The first thing I did was call Gen.
“Hey Jack. I was just thinking…”
“Gen. I hate to be rude, but I have to ask you to do something.”
She hesitated. “What?”
“I want you to pack a small bag and go to Dani’s house.”
Her breath caught, but only for a moment. “Why?”
“I’ll explain later. Dani will understand. I promise this will all be okay in a little bit.”
“Jack, I’m not going anywhere till you tell me something.”
“It has to do with the Aesir. I don’t think they know who you are, but I don’t want to risk that.”
“Are they back? In touch with you?”
“Something like that.”
“Why Dani’s house? Why not my parents?”
“Your dad a combat veteran and a martial arts instructor? Because Dani is.”
“Okay,” she said. “Be careful, Jack. Come home. Un-perforated, like I said before.”
“I will.” I hated thinking that I might be lying to her.
The next thing I did was make two more phone calls. Then I got hold of Daphne on the hotel line. Then I sat and waited for my phone to ring, or for an email to come. Daphne waited with me.
It took an hour, but the phone did finally ring. I looked over at Daphne, whose eyes were wide. I took a deep breath to still myself, and tapped the screen to accept it.
“Mr. Dixon.”
I knew that voice: Jarl Troy, of the Aesir MC. I didn’t respond.
“Surely a man of your insight already knows that we hold your friend, Mr. Aronson.”
“What do you want, Troy?”
“Many things, Mr. Dixon, only some of which you are capable of delivering.”
“Just name it.”
“I would, except you are already proven a liar. So I will need assurances.”
“Christ, you like to hear yourself talk.”
“Swearing by the pacifist god of weaklings, cowards, and hypocrites does not become you, Mr. Dixon.”
I decided to clamp my mouth shut and give him time.
“Surely you have not been so foolish as to alert the authorities. If you were to do that, I’m afraid we would find Mr. Aronson’s continued care and feeding too expensive to countenance. And, Mr. Dixon, please understand that we are very well connected in this area. We will know if you contact the police. Then I will call you and you will listen as my seax takes a finger off Mr. Aronson for every one of my men you have taken from me.”
“No cops. I got it.”
“Yes. In time you will be provided with an address. You will go to that address—alone. We will be observing the route in. Once there, you will surrender yourself.”
“Go on.”
“Do not complicate this matter, Mr. Dixon. You owe us considerably. I did not like using Mr. Rackham in this plot. I will not like moving on to your family and friends. Such things ought to be beneath men.”
“No part of that told me how we get Grant back.”
“Once we have you, we’ll discuss ransom for Mr. Aronson. Are we clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Good. Do keep this line open.” There was the silence of dead air, and then the screen of my phone lit. I looked at Daphne, who had gone pale.
“That didn’t sound good. We gotta call the cops.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. From what he just told me, I think they’re wired in. I don’t know if that means crooked cops, or some kind of tap…but it doesn’t seem like a good risk.”
“I thought the threats were in the south, in Virginia,” Daphne said. “This doesn’t make any sense.”
“This has nothing to do with those threats.” My voice was much, much calmer than I felt. I sat still on the hotel room bed, breathing carefully. I wasn’t sure what came next, but some part of me was waiting for it, reserving my energy.
“What do you mean?”
“This is about me. The people who took Grant are coming at me. Not at Grant, not at your company.”
“Then why…”
“Because my name and my face were on the goddamned news, and all over the internet.” I took out the card David Rackham had given me, which I’d slipped into a plastic bag. I scanned the lines again.
Mr. Dixon,
We have been building quite the picture of your habits and acquaintances. We have no wish to hurt Mr. Rackham. He was an expedient tool to demonstrate our reach and grasp; we know you and your life, and if need be, we can reach out to people you care about more than a wrestling opponent whose back you broke. We know where you live and the places you frequent. We know where your family lives. Your friends.
Do not prove yourself a coward by putting them in danger. Wait for our instructions and even Mr. Aronson will live.
Troy.
“What do I tell Mr. Gogarty…”
“Well, I already told him plenty. He was the second phone call I made.”
“What,” she stood upright, fear suddenly replaced with anger. “Why the hell would you…”
“Because he’s responsible for this bullshit. Him and Grant. The threats were never real. It was all a goddamn piece of theater meant to blow Grant’s name and character up. That’s all.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
I sighed and went over to Grant’s side of the room, where I’d carefully spread out his luggage and clothing. I pulled two envelopes from the top of folded jeans and underwear.
“Carefully slipped inside a compartment cut in the bottom of his weekend bag. I assume this is where the other two came from. He put the last one in out of sequence; it was supposed to be third, not second. That’s why it bothered me so much. It didn’t make any sense.”
Daphne opened the letter I’d handed her and quickly scanned it, then looked up at me, her mouth slightly open.
“This was in Grant’s bag?”
“Yep.”
“So it was all an angle. One they didn’t bother telling us about.”
“They sure didn’t. And by hiring me, and then putting my name and my face all over, some old…” Enemies sounded grandiose. “Some acquaintances of mine got stirred up.”
“So you’re saying the people who knocked out one of my security guys and kidnapped Grant are after you.”
“Yeah.”
“And what’re you gonna do?”
“Fix it.”
“How?”
I took a deep breath. “This is gonna sound like some dumb bullshit, but it’s probably better if you don’t know the answer to that question.”
“What’re you gonna do, Jack, track them down and shoot them all?”
I didn’t answer.
She stared at me for a moment before looking away.
“I don’t know how many of them there are,” I said, and decided that I probably needed to assure her a little. “So, you know…probably not all. I’m not about to hand myself over to get cut into dog treats and saddlebags. But it is my responsibility to get Grant back.”
If saga accounts of the Blood Eagle were to be taken at face value, the lungs could be pulled free while the victim was still alive. I doubted that, but I didn’t much want to find out for sure.
“Then what?”
“Not really looking past that part.” The snap of ribs figured large in my imagination.
“What the hell do I tell the company? And the fans at the next stop?”
“That really isn’t my problem right now.”
Daphne stared at me for a while longer, searching for something to say. I opted not to help her look. I wasn’t happy that I’d been used, and other than staying afloat long enough to pay me, I didn’t give a good goddamn what happened to Delmarva Wrestling Federation. I think Daphne had gotten the point without my saying that.
So I went back to waiting for the phone to ring. It did, the same number as before. Once again, I picked it up in silence.
Troy gave me an address, and some directions.
“And it would be best, Mr. Dixon, to come resigned. And alone.”
“Don’t worry, I’d hate to have to dig more than one grave.”
Troy laughed. “Oh, Mr. Dixon. We won’t be needing six feet to bury any of what’s left.” A pause, but I could hear him breathing; he wasn’t done hearing his own voice yet.
“We will expect you tonight. If the sun rises and you’ve proven yourself a coward, your friend dies. Then others.”
He was done; I could tell. I waited for him to hang up. I carefully wrote down the directions he gave me, made a phone call of my own, passed the directions on, and waited twenty-five minutes.
Then I put on my vest under a thermal shirt, my shoulder-rig, the Taser, my jacket and gloves, took my helmet, and went to track down a roadie.
I found a couple of them smoking just outside the hotel lobby, huddled together against the cold.
“Need my bike out of the truck,” I said.
“And I need my ass warm and my dick sucked, but ain’t neither of those gonna happen tonight,” he responded.
I was not in the mood for impediments to my work. I grabbed the far side of his collar with my right hand, tugging it against his neck and dragging him against the wall of the hotel, away from the front doors and the lights. I jammed my forearm across his throat, restricting his breathing just enough to hear him gurgle.
“I do not have the time for your particular brand of petty bullshit,” I said, leaning forward and whispering the words while he worked hard to breathe. “Open the fucking truck, or get the keys from someone who can. Right now.”
I stepped away. The roadie gasped for breath and reached into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. Behind me, his buddy had gotten his gumption up; I could hear his footsteps on the concrete as he readied himself to take a run at me.
I turned around, lifting my helmet and catching the downswing of the pocket-chain he’d been readying to swing at me. It was loud; probably chipped the paint. I didn’t have a lot of time to worry about that, so I just stared at him. I took a step forward; he took one back. I took another one. He took another one. And so on until we were back in the light cast by the lobby doors.
He got the idea and turned away. I followed the first one to the truck.