AT 29 (96 page)

“What did you find?”

“The drugs, but no gun.”

Eugene retreated from the window. “They're coming!”

A moment later the locked doorknob jiggled. The men in the room went silent and turned toward the door. A face peered into the house through one of the windows. Shouts came from outside then a heavy pool chair crashed through the window, tumbling amidst shards of glass to the spot where Eugene had been stationed a moment earlier. Ellis rushed toward the broken window just as a leg was thrust through to clear away the jagged glass and wooden frame. On his way, Ellis picked up a small metal side table. He brought the table down on the biker's knee. Another pool chair crashed through the widow on the opposite side. Other than Ellis, no one moved as another Vulture jumped recklessly through the broken window into the house and immediately sprinted to the door. Ellis tried to stop him, but he was too late. The biker unlocked the door and more Vultures rushed into the room carrying heavy metal implements wrenched from tables and chairs they'd obviously disassembled at the pool.

To Jimmy the scene seemed to unfold in slow motion. He was immobile like the others, unsure of what to do even as he watched Ellis trying to defend their space in a frenzied lone effort. Nigel was the next to take action. He hurtled past Jimmy and met the first biker coming through the door with a heavy blow to the chin. The biker went down, but the two behind set upon the big Australian and pummeled him with the heavy pieces of metal in their hands. After a particularly vicious blow Whitehurst went down, dazed. Jimmy continued to watch in horror. The bikers had re-donned their leathers, thick black jackets, leg chaps and heavy black boots. Some also wore gloves. All wore red bandanas, marking their allegiance to the warrior Vultures.

Ellis swung his metal table at anyone that moved near. One of the bikers saw the bag on the floor and shouted to the others who moved toward it. Jimmy continued to watch until it dawned on him that Ellis was being cornered. Before moving in, he scanned the men in leather for the big one Tammy called Hank. If a gun presented itself, he'd be the one carrying it. She said Stick would be close by, possibly with a knife. None of the Vultures surrounding Ellis fit the description. Nor were Chase or Benson anywhere to be seen. He spotted another table like the one Ellis was using. In a rush, he picked it up with both hands and flew toward the bikers around Ellis. In a fury of unconscious offense he swung the table with all his might, crumpling the frame on the spine of the first body in his path. The injured biker cried out in pain, then limped away bent over and red-faced with anger. The other Vultures turned, suddenly under assault on two sides as Ellis regained the offensive with his table.

Ted entered the fray, slugging the biker that Nigel had earlier waylaid. Whitehurst remained on the floor as the biker toppled over him. Next, Ted put his strong arms under Nigel's shoulders and pulled him back from the melee. He shouted for the dazed singer to stay down, then yelled at Sonny and Eugene to help Jimmy and Ellis. Ten bikers were in the house. Two were on the floor and a third remained locked away upstairs.

With Sonny and Eugene close behind, Ted sprinted toward the Vulture closest to Jimmy and dove headlong. The momentum of the tackle sent both men into Jimmy and all three onto the floor. Sonny dove on top, swinging his fists at anyone in leather. Eugene found himself confronted by a man his size, but more seasoned in the ways of brawling. He took the bass player down with a single punch. The rest of the musicians, led by Travis and the Riland brothers, joined in as best they could but, like Eugene, found
themselves no match for the tougher bikers. Ellis continued to hold his own, but Jimmy could offer no help as he struggled to extricate himself from the heavy bodies that pinned him to the floor.

One by one, the musicians went down. Ted took a blow to his head. Ellis was forced into the wall and pinned. Jimmy was kicked repeatedly in the chest and stomach. In minutes, the Vultures had control until Whitehurst rallied and re-entered the maelstrom with merciless swings of his fists. It was down to Sonny and Nigel, holding their own for another minute, blood spewing from facial cuts, before the earsplitting explosion from the muzzle of a gun suddenly brought the fighting to an end.

All heads turned toward the source of the blast. Standing just inside the door was the big man, Hank, a smoking handgun raised toward the ceiling where a basketball sized hole still trailed wisps of dust and smoke in the air. On his right stood Stick with a look of mirth on his face. Behind the leaders, Benson glared at Ellis, his neck and throat red. Chase cowered at the door, no longer looking the defiant, swaggering roadie he once projected.

“Get up, all of you!” Stick ordered.

Felix heard the unmistakable sound of a .357 Magnum from his perch at the front of the launch. He turned to see looks of recognition on the faces of his retired FBI colleagues. He didn't dwell on what the gunfire meant. It was too late to change what might have happened. As the launch came close to the dock, he signaled for the motor to be cut, allowing the vessel to glide in silently. He jumped out, followed quickly by the others, guns drawn.

“I'll take it from here,” the leader of the men in black ordered. He tapped Felix on the shoulder. “You stay out of the way until we get things under control.”

The opposing forces slowly got to their feet, separating with shoves and swearing as they moved to opposite sides of the room. Hank brought his gun to waist level, pointing it at the musicians as Stick stepped forward. The wiry leader let his eyes rove among the faces of the musicians until he settled on Ellis.

“Bring me the bag!” he commanded.

Ellis looked at the biker with contempt. He strode to the spot where the bag lay on the floor and kicked it forward with his foot. Stick knelt down, unzipped it and looked inside. Then he zipped it shut and stood up.

“Where's the money?” he demanded.

“Take it up with Winfield,” Ellis answered. “He's upstairs strung out on the crap you gave him.”

“I will,” Stick sneered. “You got one of my boys. Where is he?”

“I'm here!” a voice shouted from the top of the stairs. Everyone turned to look. Jimmy's defeated adversary was standing with Alice and Tammy on either side. He gripped the neck of each woman with his hands. Winfield was behind him, looking thoroughly frightened. “I was tied up, but not so good.”

Whitehurst yelled in anger. “Let them go!”

The biker took no heed, forcing the girls to walk down the stairs in front of him. Stick waited until they reached the first level before he ordered them to come to his side. Alice was shaking with fear. Tammy glanced at Jimmy as she was propelled forward. Stick nudged Hank and pointed at Alice.

“Remember her?” he mocked. Then he turned his attention to the top of the stairs where Winfield continued to stand. “Get down here, junky. We need to settle up.” Winfield followed orders.

One FBI veteran was left behind to guard the launches. Felix followed the others up the path. When they reached the pool, two men circled around the house to cover the rear exits. The others continued on to the front of the mansion. The leader stopped again, pointing at the smashed windows on either side of the front door, which was ajar with the figure of a man silhouetted in its frame. He held up two fingers and pointed, signaling two of his men to take positions near the windows. He watched each man move off and waited until they reached the corners of the façade where they knelt and crawled as close to the windows as possible. When he was satisfied that his backups were in place, he came close to the rest of his team.

Cindy looked at the dashboard clock. It was two in the morning. She didn't want to go to Winfield's party although she was sure it would be in full swing for the rest for the night. Still, she knew the tour farewell at Marvel Island required her presence, if only for a quick visit to make the rounds. Miles hated these things. It was up to her to carry Blossom's banner. She realized she was being forced to front for her executive husband, just like she used to front for Jimmy when he was drinking. Damn, he was at it again. Maybe if she told him Les had come all this way … maybe he'd stop.

Miles paced the parking lot occasionally stopping to look at the lights of the island. He'd heard a sharp crack echoing across the water. He didn't know what it was, so he didn't let it bother him. He stayed close to the dock under the only floodlight still glowing after the others were put out. The Harleys glistened nearby. Cindy would be arriving soon with Jimmy's girlfriend. He would turn them back to the hotel. At least he was good for something.

At the bottom of the stairs Winfield stopped short of crossing the room. Instead, he angled toward Jimmy and Nigel, staring at Stick with trepidation.

“Look, I've got money, but it's a check. Let's call it a night. You'll have your cash in the morning.”

“But Mike,” Stick chided, sarcastically, “you and the big guy have already used some of the stuff.” He nodded at Alice. “This little chippy, too. I know how to take payback from her, but what are you gonna do for me?”

Whitehurst cut in before Winfield could answer. “Him, Alice?” he demanded to get the shaking writer's attention. “And the one holding the gun? Who's the third?” Alice trembled.

The leader of the retired FBI contingent whispered to the man next to him. “Take out the one in the doorway, nice and quiet.” He turned to the others. “I'll go in after he clears the door. You come in behind, guns raised. No shooting, unless absolutely necessary.”

Alice turned from Nigel to the bikers assembled around Stick. Of course, she recognized the third man, but she couldn't forget the gun in Hank's hand. Nigel had a look in his eyes, one she'd never seen before, one that frightened her almost as much as the prospect of being raped again.

“Point him out, Alice!” Whitehurst stepped toward Stick.

“Keep the gun on him!” Stick ordered. “If he wants to be a hero, show him how it feels to take a bullet.”

Hank nodded, maintaining a deadly expression as Nigel advanced. When they were a yard apart, with Whitehurst towering a foot above the leader of the Vultures, Stick spoke again.

“You want to know who had your little chippy? I'll tell you. It was me, Hank and that handsome devil over there.” He pointed at the biker who still held Alice and Tammy by the neck. “Woulda been more of us….” Whitehurst didn't give him a chance to finish. He dove into the smaller man and wrestled him to the floor. Their bodies rolled into Hank a split second before the gun went off.

Jimmy dove at Hank, seeing his chance to neutralize the shooter before he could fire again, but the rest of the Vultures quickly moved to intercept. Hank stepped back just as Jimmy took a vicious club to his shoulder and lost his balance. Ellis caught him from falling and then rushed past to confront Hank as he raised the gun toward Whitehurst on the floor with Stick. Ted and Sonny flew into the other bikers, creating a diversion as Jimmy, unaware of the blood rushing from the open wound on his shoulder, saw Stick produce a switchblade from his pocket.

The second shot prompted the men outside to move in. One man leapt up from his crouched position and placed his palm around Chase's face, covering his mouth as he dragged the surprised roadie away from the door and onto his back on the ground. Once down, he put his knee on Chase's throat and pointed his gun in his face. He held his index finger to his lips signaling for silence.

The gun slipped from Hank's hand when Ellis drove his shoulder into the large biker's gut. It slid across the floor at Benson's feet, but the drummer failed to notice because he turned to discover Chase being wrenched backwards.

Jimmy slammed into Nigel, forcing him off Stick just as the switchblade snapped open and streaked through the air. The strike, which was intended for the Australian's throat, met Jimmy's hand, slicing into his palm just as men in black rushed through the door with guns raised. The two outside the windows climbed through at the same time.

Benson was the first to notice the intruders. He let out a shout as he turned to find a gun pointed in his face. The leader quickly grabbed the drummer's arm and pushed him back against the wall. Felix rushed in last, spotted the gun on the floor, and quickly bent to pick it up, just beyond Hank's outstretched hand.

All fighting stopped as Felix stood, passed the gun back to one of the men in black and produced a gold shield, which he held up for everyone to see. “FBI!” he shouted. “Everybody up, with hands in the air!”

The bikers rose first, familiar with the drill and unwilling to take any chances. Nigel moved to take the knife from Stick's hand, but stopped when he saw Jimmy writhing on the floor in a pool of blood. Stick scrambled to his feet, dropped the knife and raised his hands, stepping back.

The men in black moved in and used the muzzles of their guns to separate the bikers into a single group, apart from the musicians. One of them lowered his gun and stooped to pick up the knife. Nigel knelt close to Jimmy and then helped him get to his feet. Alice and Tammy held each other tightly as Felix went to the center of the room, scanning the faces. When he spotted Ellis he gestured for him to come over.

“Is this everyone?”

“No. We hid some girls in the rooms.”

“Find them and bring them here.”

A groan came from the foot of the stairs. Everyone turned to find Winfield lying on his back with a wound to his thigh. Felix motioned for Ellis to do what he was told, then walked quickly to the DJ, peering down at the blood trickling from his leg. “Gun shot! He's in shock! First Aid now!”

The retired FBI leader lowered his gun, reached into a pouch in his fatigues and rushed over. He knelt down and ripped Winfield's pants leg open from waist to ankle. Felix left him to his chore as he backed away and turned to the Vultures.