He thought of other things. He wished that he had a chance to tell Natasha that he loved her one more time. He wished that he could apologize to Susan for failing to protect her husband, and somehow to Tiffany, for giving her a life without a father.
The sliding door of the van opened and he was hauled out by the arms and dragged across rough ground before being placed in a kneeling position.
The minutes ticked by and all he heard was the engine noise from a couple of vehicles. He started to lose his balance and felt himself falling forward, but a hand grabbed him by the hair and jerked him back into position. The duct tape was unwrapped from around his eyes.
Jack blinked and strained his eyes to see. Headlights behind him cast light and shadows across a construction site. He stared down at a hollow wall of rough planks interwoven with metal bars. He was kneeling in front of a large pit that had been dug out of the ground to build a basement. The construction was at the stage where the forms had been prepared for the pouring of the cement floor.
Jack looked behind him but was blinded by the high-beam headlights of a van and a car. He glanced down at the feet of a man standing beside him. He could make out the same square-toed boots and realized that his groin still ached. The man was no longer wearing a ski mask and sneered down at him. He recognized him from photographs of the east-side chapter as someone who went by the nickname of Thumper. Two more men approached from out of the headlights, and one of them used Jack’s knife to cut the tape wrapped around the back of his neck before peeling it off his mouth. Jack recognized him as a striker from the same chapter. The striker handed the knife to the third man, who commanded, “Leave us!”
Thumper and the striker walked back and disappeared behind the headlights. Jack recognized Damien’s face as he stepped closer.
“Do you know who I am, Officer Taggart?”
Jack looked up at his face. “Sure I do, Damien. Please, call me Jack. I hate formalities. Excuse me for not shaking hands.”
Damien did not appear to be amused. “Let’s get to the point. What do you think the point is, Jack?”
“The point is, you fucked up this morning by trying to kill my partner and his wife and baby. Now you’re fucking up again!”
“I can understand why you would think that. Tell me, why do you think you ended up out here?”
“You want me to give you the name of someone. Good luck. Let the games begin! What will you start with? Water and a cattle prod?”
“Interesting tip. Tell me, Jack, just out of curiosity, what name would you yell out first?”
“Yours!”
A wry smile flashed across Damien’s face, and then he said, “That’s what I thought. I know we’ve got a rat in our club. I accept that. It happens, and it is something that will be dealt with. Unfortunately for you, others don’t accept it quite as easily as I do, which brings us to the point of our meeting here.”
“The point being?”
“The point being that sometimes large organizations have internal problems that need to be dealt with. You referred to an incident this morning. I had no knowledge about that incident until after it happened. I admit that someone in my organization may have been impetuous. I have since rectified the situation.”
“Impetuous! Is that what you call committing murder? I don’t care if you sanctioned it or not. You’re in charge, and that makes you responsible!”
“I agree. I must, and do, accept responsibility for what happened. However, it would hardly be fair for other … innocent people to get hurt simply because someone acted foolishly.”
“What are you implying?”
“You’re hardly the person to ask what I’m implying! You know full well what I’m saying! You and I are in different clubs, but we’re very much alike.”
“Alike? That’s bullshit! I don’t kidnap and murder people!”
“Kidnap? Murder? I brought you here to save lives! That’s the whole point! You need to know that if I wanted you dead, you would be.”
Damien then took the knife and slashed the tape from Jack’s ankles and wrists.
Jack got to his feet and asked, “What about my partner?”
“He’s okay. Probably relaxing in a tub right now.”
“So you don’t plan on committing any murders today?”
Damien leaned close and hissed, “Don’t you, of all people, stand there and accuse me of murder! You’re only alive because the others didn’t figure it out!”
“Figure what out?”
“The switch! When you get home, wash your jacket. You’ve got an oil stain on the back from crawling under vehicles!”
Jack found himself at a loss for words.
Damien scowled and said, “I bet you and your partner had a good laugh over that one.”
“He doesn’t know. He thinks it was an accident.”
“Loose lips?”
“I prefer to call it a need-to-know basis. He didn’t need to know.”
“Just as well. Do you give me your word that we’re even for what happened this morning?”
Jack thought for a moment, then quietly said, “Yes.”
Damien handed him his knife and pistol. Jack checked the pistol and saw that it was fully loaded.
Damien then yelled, “Thumper! Take him home!”
Jack glanced down at Thumper’s square-toed boots as he approached. The man was slightly shorter than Jack and sneered up at him as he got close. Without warning, Jack kicked him hard in the groin and watched as he buckled over and staggered back.
Jack then turned to face Damien and said, “Now we’re even for tonight, too.”
Jack felt a tap on his shoulder and was surprised to see that it was Thumper.
“Ya want a piece of me, pork chop?” Thumper asked.
Jack had two months of rage burning inside him. He was eager to release some of it. He handed his gun and knife back to Damien and said, “You’re damn right I do!”
Damien and the third man both laughed. Damien whispered something to Thumper, who nodded, then looked at Jack and said, “Okay, pig, let’s see how tough ya are!”
Thumper opened with a side kick to Jack’s ribs. Jack blocked the kick with his forearm and landed a fist on the end of Thumper’s nose. Thumper stepped back, his eyes watering and blood gushing down across his lips. Jack stepped in close to deliver a karate punch to the solar plexus, followed by another punch to the throat. He didn’t connect with either. He found himself sailing though the air, and then he landed in the pit dug for the basement.
He scrambled to his feet as Thumper jumped in beside him and planted a boot squarely across his chest. He staggered back, then lunged forward with another punch. Thumper grabbed his wrist and spun him sideways while delivering another kick to Jack’s armpit.
Jack felt his arm go numb, and for a moment, so many fists and feet were slamming his body that he believed he was fighting all three men. He realized he wasn’t when he was lying barely conscious, face down in the dirt, and heard Damien from above ordering the striker to go down in the hole and help Thumper carry him back to the van.
Jack was still winded and dazed as he was tossed onto the floor of the van.
Damien dropped Jack’s gun and knife on the floor beside him and said, “I think I figured out who