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  True Grit

  The Nighthawks Motorcycle Club

  Bella Knight

  Book

  7

  Edited by

  Natasha Lind

  © Copyright 2017 - All rights reserved.

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  Contents

  1. Scrapes

  2. Vengeance is Mine

  3. New Life

  4. Letting Go

  5. Opportunities

  Book 8 Raw Deal

  Afterword

  About the Author

  1

  Scrapes

  "Stupidity comes in many forms. When it comes in the form of those supposed to protect us, watch out."

  Wraith, Henry and Nantan arrived at the hospital, their Harleys loud. They parked, locked up their helmets and weapons, and moved swiftly into the hospital. They ganged up on the emergency room nurse, a thin woman with wide-set blue eyes and curly hair.

  "Where is my son?" asked Henry. "I am the guardian of Helaku Standing Hawk. He is of the Pauite Nation."

  The woman stammered. "We can't give out information on..."

  Wraith took out her credentials, and flashed them in front of the intake nurse. "What part of ‘guardian’ did you not understand?"

  "He's... um…" She pointed vaguely at the intake door.

  "Let us in," said Wraith, "or be arrested for impeding an ongoing investigation. Your choice." The nurse sighed, but buzzed them in.

  Wraith stepped in the door, Henry and Nantan on their heels. "My son," said Henry, in Paiute.

  "My father," said Helaku.

  They went to his cubicle, surrounded by a sheet, and they found him handcuffed to a bed. His face was swelling from bruising. His bloodied hands had not been wrapped. His wrist was swollen. There were no tubes running into his veins.

  "Medic!" yelled Henry, rushing to Helaku's side. "Get me a doctor, now!"

  Wraith stood in front of a nurse and refused to move. "Get me a doctor, now, on the double," she said.

  "He's seeing patients," she said.

  "Not anymore," said Wraith. "And get me a hospital administrator." She unlocked her phone and threw it to Nantan. "Take pictures for the lawsuit," she said. She held her badge in the woman's face. "Get. Me. A. Doctor. Now. And the idiot who chained an eighteen-year-old assault victim to a bed."

  "That would be me," said a tall man. He had wide shoulders, pinched eyes, and a pulled-forward face; making him look like a boxer dog. "Officer Jude Lohn. And you are?"

  She held her badge in his face. "Annika Jensen, DEA. You in the habit of handcuffing eighteen-year-old assault victims to the bed? And why hasn't his broken wrist been x-rayed?"

  "He's not the victim," said Officer Lohn. "He assaulted someone else."

  "Bullshit," said Ruby, from the next bed. Wraith put her head in the curtain. A nurse was wrapping her arm in a blue bandage. "I tried telling Officer Lohn that the two guys jumped us at the ATM. He has stones in his ears."

  Nantan stopped taking pictures and handed the phone to Henry. Henry took more, then handed the phone back to Wraith. Nantan pulled open the curtain and went over to hold Ruby's hand. She was not in handcuffs.

  "Unlock this young man," said Wraith, her voice now ice-cold.

  "Not your investigation," said Officer Lohn.

  "Looks like you're not investigating anything," said Wraith. "Did you take their statements? Get them proper medical care? Arrest the perpetrators? Call their next of kin?"

  Denise came flying in, eyes narrowed. "What is the meaning of this? Unlock my client. He is a danger to no one, and why the fuck isn't he on pain medication? And why hasn't he been x-rayed?" she bellowed. Her eyes were wide, and rounded on Officer Lohn. "Unlock. My. Client. Now."

  The doctor came over; a short, fat man with wisps of brown hair combed over his balding, bowling ball head. "What is the meaning of this… hubbub, in my ER?"

  "Good question," said Wraith, turning her laser stare on him. "Why is this eighteen-year-old assault victim handcuffed to a bed? Where is his pain medication? Why hasn't he been x-rayed?"

  "There are priorities..."

  Wraith flashed her badge. "He is a priority." She rounded on Officer Lohn. "Who is your supervisor? Where is your partner?" She took a photo of him, and of his badge number. "Why haven't you uncuffed the victim?"

  Denise took out her own phone and began taking pictures of the officer, her clients, and the doctor. "Lawsuit city, here."

  Wraith pulled out her phone and called the officer's division. "Yes, this is Special Agent Annika Jensen, DEA. May I please speak to the supervisor of one Officer Lohn with your precinct? No, I can't hold long; this idiot has handcuffed a teenaged assault victim to a bed and won't unlock him. Yes, I see." Denise kept taking pictures as the doctor ordered the obstinate nurse to get the patient to x-ray.

  Officer Lohn's phone rang. Wraith smiled her famous, sarcastic smile. "It's for you," she said. She turned to the doctor. "I want complete bloodwork done on the boy. This idiot here will try to cover his tracks by claiming he was drunk or high, and I know for a fact that's not true."

  She still had on her sarcastic smile; the doctor quailed. "Um, yes. CBC, chem panel, and... um…"

  "Pain medication," said Wraith. "He better not feel a thing."

  "I'll go with my client," said Denise. "Confer while he's waiting for the x-ray."

  "Got a portable one here," said another nurse, rolling it over. Everyone; Nantan, Denise, Henry, and Wraith rounded on the doctor. He visibly quailed and found it difficult to concentrate on his job, for a miniscule moment.

  "You had a portable x-ray, and didn't bother taking pictures of his obviously broken hand?" Denise was first with the shrill statement. "Negligence!"

  A hospital administrator; a woman with black hair pulled back tightly against her scalp walked in. She had chocolate brown eyes and a tiny nose. She was wearing a maroon suit and an ivory blouse under it.

  "What seems to be the problem?" she asked.

  Wraith plastered her definitive smile on her. "Doctor, see to your patient." She
rounded on Officer Lohn. "Why. Isn't. He. Uncuffed?"

  Officer Lohn was sweating, the phone still at his ear. He held out a key, and Wraith uncuffed Helaku. She wordlessly handed the cuffs and key back to the officer.

  Now, Wraith rounded on the administrator. "Get us another doctor. This one is useless and incompetent." She turned to Officer Lohn. "Get someone else here who will actually investigate."

  The administrator tried to speak but her mouth just made the shape of an “O.” Officer Lohn said something into his phone, and hung up.

  Wraith looked at the officer. "Now, you and I are going to have a little talk about proper police procedure." She smiled again, and he finally realized that he was in waters he shouldn't have swum.

  “Okay,” he said plainly.

  "Denise?" asked Wraith.

  "On it," she said. "My client will be treated like the assault victim he is." She cackled. "Lawsuit city," she said again.

  The administrator quailed. "Lawsuit?"

  "Several," said Denise.

  "I'll get you another doctor," said the administrator.

  "See that you do," said Wraith.

  Ace, Chayton and Gregory found the ATM easily. Tito's truck was there. He was talking to a cop, and gesturing angrily at two people, both cuffed, in a cop car. They parked, and got out.

  Ace went straight to the cop talking to Tito. "Any reason why those two yahoos who beat up two kids aren't in jail?"

  "Step back," said the cop, hand on his gun.

  "Why?" said Ace. "Public sidewalk. Also, where are the crime scene techs? Henry says both kids have broken bones. Denise's talking about a lawsuit."

  "Step back," said the cop, again. He was short, with dark brown hair, green eyes, and a mouth pursed tight.

  "Why?" asked Ace again. "Are you going to do your job and call CSI, or shall I get the DEA involved like they are at the hospital?"

  Chayton took pictures with his cell phone. "What are you doing?" asked the cop. "This is an active crime scene."

  "Doesn't look like one," said Chayton. "The bad guys are not in jail, the blood of my little brother is on the ground, and you haven't even put up police tape. What kind of cops are you?"

  "Step away," said the cop, growling.

  "Is Tito under arrest?" asked Ace. "He came in after the guys beat up the kids."

  "Not at this time," said the officer.

  "Then why is your hand on your gun?" asked Ace.

  "Shooting video," said Chayton. "Denise's gonna love this."

  "Take lots of the crime scene," said Ace. "Since no one thought to secure it."

  The officer took out his weapon and pointed it at Ace's face. "Step away!" he said.

  "Got this on video?" asked Ace.

  "Got it," said Chayton. Gregory was speaking rapidly into a phone.

  "Name and badge number? For the record," asked Chayton. "To go into the lawsuit."

  "Why are you pointing a gun at me?" asked Ace. "I'm not pointing a gun at you. Or any other weapon."

  Tito got out of his truck and stood up. "Looks like you've pointed a gun at a man standing on a sidewalk. Looks like you refused to listen to every word I said. His name is Officer McCann, and he's sent his lovely partner off to call in my truck license plate. He did this while he should have been securing a crime scene. Or making a single note, or recording what I have been telling him."

  "Down on the ground!" Officer McCann screamed at Ace.

  Ace kept his hands just above his hips, palms open. "Why? Am I under arrest? On what charge? Standing on a public sidewalk? Asking you why you aren't doing your job?"

  A Harley, throttle open, roared into the lot. All four men smiled. They knew that particular bike.

  "Down on the ground!" Officer McCann screamed, stepping forward.

  "McCann!" said a woman, exiting the police vehicle. "Holster your weapon. The car is recording everything, and you're in the wrong," she said.

  "We're recording it too," said Chayton, helpfully.

  A Thai man with rippling biceps approached. "Arlen Thanh, ATF. Any reason why you're pointing a gun at a man who is not pointing a gun at you? Did he make a threatening statement? Did he pull any weapon on you?" He held out his credentials.

  "You're with them?" Officer McCann asked, keeping his weapon trained on Ace's heart.

  "It doesn't matter if I am or I am not, you are in the wrong. Lower your weapon." Saber walked closer to the man, and stood by Ace. "You invite me to all the fun stuff," he said to Ace.

  "Trying not to," said Ace. "Was asking the man why he hasn't taken the two criminals in the back there to jail. Also wondering why they haven't been tested for alcohol or drugs yet. You've got to take care of that pretty quickly."

  Saber looked over at the bloodstains on the concrete. "Camera at the ATM should have gotten the whole assault. Bothered to look at that yet?" asked Saber.

  "Lower your weapon, McCann," said the female officer.

  "Fuck, no," said Officer McCann.

  Saber shook his head then stepped in front of Ace. "Want to kill an ATF agent? Well, technically, we're the ATFE; we added explosives to our acronym, but no one calls us that."

  McCann did not take this well. He pulled the trigger. Ace caught Saber as he fell. The female officer pointed her gun at McCann with one hand, and shouted things into her radio on her shoulder. She was holding the mic open with her other hand. Gregory scooped up Saber's credentials and knelt beside him.

  Tito got on the phone and began screaming into it. Chayton grimly kept recording. Another cop car pulled up. The officers got out, and pointed their guns over their doors at McCann.

  "Drop it, Officer McCann," said a black cop the approximate size of Ferdinand the Bull. His voice was like granite. "Put it down, and step back. You are under arrest."

  McCann continued to point the gun at Ace and Saber, but his hands were shaking. "He stepped in front of the suspect," he said.

  "First of all, you just shot a DEA agent who clearly identified himself to you. Second, what suspect?" said Ace, his fingers on Saber's neck. "I was standing here, asking you why you didn't take in the perpetrators. And why there was blood over there, or why there was no crime scene tape up. What did I do to you?"

  Saber choked, wheezed, then choked again. He grasped his credentials from Gregory. "That's gonna leave a bruise," he said, choking out the words. Ace helped him sit up. Gregory and Tito visibly sighed with relief. Chayton kept recording.

  "Drop it," repeated the granite-voiced man. "Put it down on the ground, McCann. Now!"

  McCann slowly holstered his weapon. "I... he's alive. He's fine. I didn't..."

  "McCann," said the huge man approaching him. "You're under arrest for the attempted murder of a DEA agent. And probably a lot more once we review your body cam, the cam from the vehicle, and these... people's cell phones." He took out the man's weapon and put on the cuffs. "Acton, take him away."

  The tall, African-American, female officer approached. "Yes, Sir," she said. "I don't suggest talking until your lawyer shows up," she said to McCann.

  "He... he lived," said McCann. "I..."

  "What part of 'shut up' don't you understand?" asked Acton. She dragged him away to her police vehicle.

  Saber choked, spluttered, and groaned as Ace helped him sit up. "You need a bus?" asked the huge, mountain of a cop.

  "Pictures," he said. "My lady is gonna kill me for almost getting killed." He wheezed a laugh. "She's more terrifying when she's angry than you probably are."

  "We'll take pictures," said the officer. "I'm Sergeant Joe Pocero. We would have been here sooner, but we were on another call." Another police car came flying into the lot. "We've got multiple crime scenes here, it looks like. Let's get you some medical attention; rule out broken ribs, why don't we?"

  "Bring me to Valley," said Saber. "Might as well have my lady kill me there, where they can resuscitate me." He coughed wetly into his palm. "Think something... got punctured," he said, blood on his hand.

  "Fu
ck," said Ace. "Get him there now. I'll go with, check in on the kids."

  Sirens wailed, and an ambulance ripped around the corner and into the lot from the far side. "There's... my ride," gasped Saber.

  "Shut up," said Ace. "If you die, I'll find you, bring you back, and kill you again."

  "What he said," said Gregory. The EMTs hopped out, one with a black box, one opening the back to pull out the gurney.

  "What do we have?" asked the EMT.

  "ATF agent," said the sergeant. "Shot with a police-issue weapon. Must be some fine-grade body armor under there, but that .45 packed quite a punch. Think broken ribs and a punctured lung." They worked on him, and Ace went with them in the ambulance.

  "Well, that was horrible," said Gregory. "Anyone actually going to secure the crime scene, get those assholes over there to jail, get them some drug and alcohol tests?" He pointed to the back of the cop car where they were, staring out the window, bug-eyed. "Those guys beat up two kids taking money out of an ATM." He swiveled and pointed at the ATM. "Camera there. That's Crime number one. The two teenagers are at Valley, getting treatment from broken bones from where those yahoos beat them up. Got hate crime all over it. They kept yelling about Mexicans taking their jobs. They're Native American, not Mexican."

  "On it," said the sergeant. He started handing out orders, and the officers in the other vehicle rushed to comply.

  “Good,” said Gregory.

  Crime scene tape went up. "Crime number two was witnessed by you, and several cameras," said Pocero. "We'll get that squared away too. Realize there's a time crunch on getting the two perpetrators their drug and alcohol tests," he said. "But, shooting an ATF agent is up there in seriousness. We've got to get everything, and I do mean everything, locked up tight as a drum on both cases." He called over to an officer talking rapidly into her mic. "Rodriguez, ETA on the crime scene techs?"