Guns & Dusty Roads: The Iron Brotherhood Series (4 page)

Kara commented on this, and she saw Cross nod in approval - but only for a moment, and then he paused.  “Allusion?” he repeated, his eyes narrowing as he gazed back at her.  “I’d keep that fancy talk down, if I were you.  Don’t go trying to show off that you’re too high and mighty - not to these folk.”

She wanted to say more, but Kara just nodded.  She didn’t have time to argue with this dark, commanding man, and she needed to learn everything that she could, if she was going to fit in.

Now that they had pulled up at the house, parking their bikes in amid a cluster of other hogs out in the open driveway in front, Kara was working hard to project confidence.  Her mind was still awash in the information Cross shared with her only an hour or two earlier, but she let it all settle within her. 

This wasn’t the first time that she, as an agent of the law, had been thrown into an unfamiliar situation with almost no training and little time to internalize her lessons.  From infiltrating drug runners to chasing down several organized crime units, Special Agent Kara Sybil had built a good part of her career around infiltration, around easily and quickly becoming one of the “in” group, not an outsider.

But even though this wasn’t her first time, she knew better than to assume that things would get any easier.

Every time she did this, she found herself confronted with a whole new set of unknowns, a whole new set of variables and risks.  A single slip-up could spell disaster for her, and she had to be at her peak performance.

Climbing up the stairs, a little corner of Kara’s mind noticed that, surprisingly, this wasn’t one of the worst communal houses that she’d seen or visited.  The building might be inhabited by a bunch of men who worked on motorcycles, or pursued other, less savory, pursuits for a living, but the house was definitely well maintained.  None of the paint on the exterior was peeling, and it actually looked as if someone had made at least a valiant attempt at trimming the grass and bushes growing around the sides of the porch.  There weren’t any award winning flower beds here, but at least the place looked well maintained.

Somehow, Cross must have caught a hint of Kara’s surprise.  “Just ‘cause we don’t always love the law doesn’t mean that we’re slobs or dirty,” he commented over one shoulder, not looking back.

For a moment, Kara felt blood rush to her cheeks in a blush.  What?  How had the man managed to pick up on that particular thought of hers?

“I didn’t say anything of the sort,” she replied, keeping her tone calm and level.

Cross paused at the top of the stairs for a minute, waiting until she drew up alongside him.  Kara was quite tall, and her black leather boots lent another half-inch or so to that already lofty figure.  But Cross was still taller, and he could look slightly down at her as she stood beside him.

For a minute, Cross didn’t say anything, but just stared at the FBI agent.  Kara forced herself to keep his gaze, but it was surprisingly hard.  She had stared down criminals and killers, people who were true psychopaths without a soul.  She had gazed into those empty eyes as they leered back at her, faced down the darkness, and had always won.

But something about Cross’s gaze was different.

The man looked as if, just as she evaluated him, he was doing the same to her.  He was judging her, silently evaluating her on some hidden list of factors that only he knew.  And every time he looked at her, Kara got the vague impression that she wasn’t quite measuring up.

Still, Kara wouldn’t back down, and she stared back at the man.  While she waited, she considered his face.  The man had lines already showing at the edges of his eyes and cheeks, signs perhaps less of age than of a life lived out on the edge.  He looked hard, and his eyes held the glint of steely ice chips.  But his hair was trimmed evenly, and while his cheeks were covered with a slight stubble, it was also well trimmed and maintained.

A thought suddenly popped into Kara’s mind that the man would almost be handsome, if he ever bothered to smile.

She started slightly.  Where in the world had that come from?  That was definitely not the sort of thing to be thinking when she was about to walk into a dangerous, unknown situation!

But in the realization, she’d broken Cross’s gaze.  When she looked back up at him, the man still wasn’t smiling. 

“You’ve got the gear,” he said quietly to her, his eyes flicking out to where their bikes were parked.  The man had expressed grudging respect, possibly even admiration, when she fired up the Fatboy, and his respect had grown significantly when he watched her handle it without a problem. 

“But that doesn’t mean that you fit into this life, that you can survive here,” he went on, his eyes narrowing.  “These guys aren’t the typical bunch, but they’re all hard, and they don’t take easily to outsiders.  Especially not ones like…”

The man trailed off, but his eyes dipped down to below Kara’s eyeline, running down to her neckline.  Wait a minute.  Was he checking her out?

When he looked back up, Kara had to peer closely, but she spotted a hint of a blush now around the man’s cheeks!  Yes, he had definitely been looking at her with those predominantly male thoughts overtaking his more civilized thoughts. 

But as fast as that thought might have come on inside of Cross’s head, it was gone.  He gave his head a little shake, and that little flush of color faded from his cheeks. 

Before he could start speaking, however, Kara reached out and put her hand on his chest.  It was a light touch, and she pulled her hand away almost immediately, but for just a second, she could feel the heat of his body, the beating of Cross’s heart.

“Trust me,” she told him, her voice calm and steady.  “I got this.”

And then she turned to the door.  Cross opened it, and they headed inside.

CHAPTER 5

Agent Kara Sybil knew that the first meeting with an organization, however it happened, was always the most important to get right.

This was her only chance to make a first impression, her only opportunity to appear with merit in the eyes of the higher-ups in the group.  Kara knew that if she made a mistake here, if she faltered, she wouldn’t be able to recover.

And in this situation, a single slip-up might get her kicked out of the gang…

...or worse, depending on this group.

If they turned out to be true one-percenters, a gang that truly embraced its outlaw roots, she could end up dumped in a shallow grave in the desert, never to be found.

So as she strode into the house, a half-step behind Cross, Kara made sure that her head was up, her eyes were open and observant, and that her shoulders were pulled back.  This also let her observe the inside of the house, trying to observe as much as possible.

The inside of the house was definitely a man’s realm, she could see at once.  The furniture tended towards “bar interior,” with wood paneling replacing any sort of wallpaper, and sagging, well-worn couches pushed up against most of the walls.  There was a set of stairs leading to the upper level on her left as soon as she entered, and a living room on the right.  The living room’s far wall held up a dartboard, and scatterings of holes revealed where dart throwers had missed their marks.

Cross stepped over and into the living room, and over his shoulder, Kara could see that the room wasn’t empty.  Two other men were sitting on one of the couches, now rising up to their feet at the entrance of this newcomer.  As they stood, Kara immediately sized them up, years of FBI training making this automatic.

The man on the left side was short; even standing up, he looked like he barely broke five feet in height.  He had a stout, thick, frame, however, which was further amplified by his shortness.  Beneath a leather sleeveless vest, his arms bulged with muscles, and a thick brown beard spilled down his chest.  He wore two thin braids in his hair, and the first impression that Kara received from him made her think of a big, burly, good-natured dwarf who had momentarily misplaced his battle axe.

“Well, well!” the big, burly dwarf chortled, half to himself, as he stood up.  “Cross, you’ve brought back someone sexy!  How the hell did you manage to pull that off?”

The man next to him, however, looked much more imposing, and even as the dwarf cracked this joke, his lips didn’t twitch.  He was tall, bigger even than Cross, but he carried his weight well on an absolutely massive frame.  His eyes glittered darkly beneath a heavy brow, and his hands were each the size of dinner hams.  He looked capable of going on a rampage through a city single-handedly, and he looked almost angry enough to do so.

“She doesn’t look like a whore to me,” the giant growled, glaring down at Kara.  “Cross, you better explain.”

Cross held his ground, even as the giant stared down at him.  Cross might be tall, but this big man had a full six inches more to look down before his eyes collided with the top of Cross’s head. 

“She’s here to help us, Bear” Cross said, his voice even.  “She wants to put a stop to the Hellraisers.”

The Hellraisers - that must be the gang that was involved in the weapons smuggling.  Kara made a note of the name, but she kept her attention focused on the giant, Bear. 

Bear, for his part, didn’t look impressed.  “Her?  How?” he snorted, his tone contemptuous.

Cross, in response, glanced at Kara.  This was her moment to step up.  This was her in, her story, and she had to sell it.

“The leader of them, Savage,” Kara said, injecting a note of venomous anger into her voice.  “I met him two months ago.  He took me out, told me that I was his girl, got me to loan him money.”  She raised her eyes to Bear, tightening the muscles in her face to shoot out beams of heat.  “And then he ripped me off for everything.”

Keeping the emotion clear on her face, Kara watched to see how well this story went over.  Cross had given her the name earlier, and had told her that this sounded like the kind of activity the man could have committed.  Bear didn’t look especially moved by the story, but the dwarf, standing beside him, was nodding. 

“Sounds like the asshole,” he commented, and there was a note of commiseration in his voice.  “And just another reason that we ought to put a stop to that gang.  They’re too big for themselves, and this is just another bit of proof.”

Bear was still glaring down at her, however.  “And what are you gonna do?” he asked, his tone making it clear that he wasn’t expecting much.

Kara held her ground.  “I used to date a guy with ties to the FBI,” she said.  “If we can find proof of what Savage bragged to me about, I can pass that along, and get the whole group arrested.”

“It’s legit,” Cross cut in.  “I checked her out before this.  Bear, this is our chance to get the Hellraisers off the street, stop them causing trouble for us - and for everyone!”

Clearly, Bear held the power of the final decision.  Even with Cross’s endorsement, however, he looked less than pleased.  “I don’t like it,” he growled.

“Oh, come on!” the dwarf wheedled him.  “We can at least poke around.  Seems like a low risk, high reward to me.”  The dwarf glanced at Kara, waggling his eyebrows.

“It deserves to go to a vote,” Cross chimed in.

At this, Bear sighed, looking down.  “Fine,” he finally spat out.  “Tonight, at the club meeting.  We’ll vote.”  He turned his eyes on Kara, and she saw no friendliness reflected there.  “But all the risk is on her.  And Cross, since you brought her to us, if anything fails, you will take the blame as well.”

And with that, Bear turned and pushed past Kara and Cross, heading out of the house.

For a moment, after the man had left, there was silence.  It was broken when the dwarf cleared his throat politely.

“Well, that could have gone a lot worse!” he said brightly, turning to Kara.  “Nice to meet ya!  Name’s Gimli.”  He stuck out a thickly calloused hand.

“Gimli?” Kara repeated in surprise as she took the hand.  “Isn’t that the name of one of the dwarves from-”

“-from that fantasy movie trilogy, yeah,” Gimli finished her sentence for her, looking a little embarrassed.  “Figures that you’d recognize that.  But as a short guy, hey, it fits, and I don’t mind.  So what’s your name?”

“Kara,” she replied, smiling a little in spite of herself at the dwarf’s ridiculous nickname.  Kara didn’t see any reason to conceal her name; no one would be looking her up, and this way she wouldn’t have to worry about recognizing her own name when it was called.

“So what, when you decided to get revenge on Savage, you turned to Big, Dark, and Stony here?” Gimli fired back, throwing an elbow at Cross’s ribs.  The man dodged the hit, but looked affronted at the nickname.

Kara felt a brief little burst of small-minded pleasure at seeing how Cross rankled under the nickname.  “Actually, I turned to my uncle, Grazer,” she replied.  “He put me in touch with Mister Brooding here.”

At that nickname, Cross actually groaned!  Kara couldn’t resist shooting a little smirk at him.  Gimli, standing beside them, guffawed loudly.  “A good one!” he laughed.  “And even though your new man here might not have much of a sense of humor, I can tell you that he’s a good fellah at heart, and won’t screw you over like that other fucker.”

Her man?  Kara exchanged a look with Cross, and opened her mouth to correct the dwarf.  Before she could speak, however, Cross interjected, simultaneously shifting his weight - and stepping down hard on Kara’s foot!