Shelter From The Storm (The Bare Bones MC Book 6)(29)
“I know you can be cruel,” I whispered, my breath fluttering across his pectoral. “But I trust you to protect me, too.”
Mechanically he brought his hands up to my shoulders, where they fluttered ineffectually like pieces of Kleenex. Was he actually afraid of me? “I will,” he said, not too convincingly. “I will.”
Good gracious, Ignatius. I’d gone from a heartless Lieutenant Commander who didn’t love me to a redheaded hitman who didn’t love me. I was a woman who loved too much.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
FOX
“Let me hold the rocket launcher.”
“No.”
“At least let me pull the trigger.”
“No.”
“Oh, come on!” cried Wolf Glaser. “Why do you get to do all the fun stuff?”
Because Ruben Ochoa’s bulletproof SUV had not come down his access road yet, I fell for it, and engaged with the former Prospect. Sometimes I can be so stupid, or maybe just bored. “I get to do ‘all the fun stuff’ because it’s my mission. I’m the trained operative. I need to hit the passenger door while they may be going seventy miles an hour. You’re just the guy who works in the Bare Bones parts shed.”
Wolf had executed his role. He’d waited patiently by Ruben Ochoa’s fortress-like abode for the garage door to open. As expected, Ruben had walked directly from his home into the armored SUV. He was already in the back seat by the time the SUV moved out onto the driveway and a couple goons looked out the windows suspiciously. Wolf radioed me to get ready, got on his scoot, and went off-road behind a few hills to reach my position a half a mile down the road. Now he lay on his stomach next to me. I’d dug a slot in the dirt in which to rest the tube of my grenade launcher. I had the iconic, Russian-built RPG-7 and it fit comfortably on my shoulder. It could take out a tank, so I imagined it would probably incinerate the SUV. No one else took this access road to Ochoa’s mansion, so I just listened for the approaching vehicle.
“They gave me that job because I used to work at Home Depot. Made sense, don’t you think? It’s an important position, knowing which part to hand out for an operator of a Cat 374D excavator. What’s taking these losers so long? They barbecuing in their garage?”
I had to chuckle at that. Beaners sure did like to barbecue in their garages, or their front yards for that matter. “Listen. You sure you don’t want to take off? I don’t really need you here.”
“What, and miss the extremely awesomesauce sight of what is essentially a tank blowing to smithereens before our very eyes?” Wolf lost his grin. He had his brain bucket on in case of falling debris. So did I. It felt like I was in the Army again. “It will, won’t it? Blow to smithereens?”
“That’s what I’m banking on,” I muttered, attentive to the sound of an engine coming closer. “We’re only sixty yards away.”
The Ochoas were threatening to destroy our union—either that of The Bare Bones MC or my increasingly tenuous one with the Jones cartel. Taking out their kingpin sent a message that we’d take it to the mats with them if they so desired. I’d just been reading Abe Lincoln’s Cooper Union speech in which he’d solidified his presence as a man to be reckoned with. Ochoas sending spies into the Bare Bones backyard was a blow to their union, a suspicious threat akin to armed robbery, like the South demanding to secede from the North.
“Oo, they’re coming,” trilled Wolf. I had to hold him down by the shoulder to prevent him from popping his stupid head over the ridgeline. Being spotted wouldn’t be fatal, but it wouldn’t help.
“Stay put,” I growled. I followed the approach of the vehicle by tracking it with the tube. I estimated the SUV was moving at a steady fifty miles per hour. I tracked, tracked, tracked and squeezed the trigger.
I felt as well as heard the impact. The ground shook as though we were jumping a moving train. The entire vista on the other side of my little hill was lit up with a few flashes so bright they temporarily blinded me. I couldn’t resist man’s natural urge to witness what destruction he’d wrought, and I shot to my feet.
All that remained on the road was a mangled chassis. Whoever had been in the vehicle was liquid bone now. The shaped charge had penetrated the side of the SUV and exploded on impact. Twisted pieces of metal and flaming engine parts were dropping with thuds all around us. I got conked in the head with part of a fuel hose, so it was time to make tracks away from the impact site.
“How f*cking awesome is—” Wolf was brained with part of a seat followed by a hunk of bloody flesh slapping upside his lid, so he followed me to our bikes too.
“That was awesome, Fox.”
“I’m going to report to Ford at his house. You can do what you like.” I thought, then said, “Thanks for your help.” I wasn’t used to thanking anyone. I always worked alone. But Lytton had stuck me with this guy, so I may as well make the most of him.
“No problem. I love witnessing explosive carnage like that. See you at Ford’s.”
We thrashed it off-road for awhile until we could hook up with Obed Road. A bridge there would take us to Joseph City where we could hit Route 40 west again. We’d ride separately on the off-chance someone had already heard and investigated the explosion and had called other operatives along Route 40. But honestly, who would jump to the immediate conclusion the hit was affiliated with The Bare Bones? Wolf wore his cut, but Jones might want to take credit for the hit. Well, Ford and Ortelio Jones could fight it out for the honor. I was pulling double duty today.