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I tapped Fan’s helmet hanging by the jaw strap from her palm until it swayed gently back and forth.
“I know a thing or two,” I said with a smirk. “In fact, I used to own a Shadow. Gift from my uncle. But I sold that years ago.” I looked down at myself. “Was never really big enough anyhow.”
Times had been tough since I left college and pursued music full-time. Hell, I was still sweating next month’s rent until I got paid by LMG. Gigs in Austin barely pay if you’re lucky enough to not have to work for the door or tips. Throw in all the expenses for parking, instruments, sax maintenance, practice space fees, reeds, car repairs, gas, and the rest, well, it’s a testament to my band’s success. I’d squeaked out a living without taking on too many side jobs, especially with no day job. That didn’t leave room for luxuries.
Fan lowered the helmet to her side. “I’m sure. But don’t be silly. A Honda? Big galoot like you belongs on a Harley. Whaddya think, Dante? Do we have a bike to fit him?”
Dante looked up at me. “I know just the bagger. How much you weigh?”
“Two fifty-five. Give or take,” I replied.
“Goddamn, son! Your momma feed you steak three times a day?”
“Just twice.”
That got a laugh from the room.
Dante continued. “Alrighty then. For you, I’m thinking a Road King with a tall boy seat. Won’t take me too long to adjust it in the garage.”
“Hell yeah,” I said, and meant it. Any excuse to ride a Harley was cool in my book.
“And I’ll find you some leathers, but that’ll be tougher,” Fan said. She looked at Conrad and Silana expectantly.
“Dig through the Armory. Should be a few pieces we can adjust to make work,” Conrad advised.
Silana nodded. “Oui. We’ll make do, but after this week we really need to tailor him some customs.”
“I detest being this rushed. Decide what clothing you prefer, Lochlan, and let us know,” Conrad said.
“We also need to consider new stage clothing for the band,” Silana mused.
Conrad pushed a lock of Silana’s auburn hair back from her face. “Silana and her fashionistas will work wonders.”
I nodded. “I could use a new pair of cowboy boots. But let’s talk...saxophones.”
“Ah.” Conrad smiled.
“Of course,” Silana said. “Make another list. I love shopping.”
I looked at the floor.
“What is wrong?” Silana asked.
I grimaced. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
“Lochlan...” Conrad’s voice wasn’t harsh.
My honest streak kicked in. "It’s just. Everything’s been moving so damned fast. A day ago, you offered me the deal of a lifetime and this is the first minute I’ve taken to even seriously think about it.” I sighed heavily. “These fucking people. The kidnappers. This just shouldn’t be happening. Vicki should be enjoying her summer break. And I should be planning a party for Friday’s gig—to tell fans the big news!” I looked around at every face. “But here we are instead.”
I realized I’d formed two fists while I was bitching and squeezed them tight enough that my fingernails had dug into my palms.
“Sorry.” I sucked in a deep breath then slowly let it back out.
Silana walked over and hugged me, just like that. “This life tosses us all into the storm. It’s the price of free will. But do not despair. I have learned that quests are often unavoidable—and right now you have yours. It’s healthy to let the anger out.” She squeezed me tighter, and a weight lifted from my spirit. “We’re with you.”
“In fact, we’re going on this plane ride,” Conrad said. “Much to discuss.”
Silana stepped back from me then patted my cheek gently with one hand. “Oui. And we will eat lunch in the skies, too. I’m sure brunch is wearing off by now.”
“I can always eat,” I agreed.
Silana’s eyes glinted. She had that part of me figured out already.
Conrad stood up straighter then and spoke another series of commands. “Dante. Fan. I need to speak with you. Silana, please go with Lochlan to the armory and help outfit him properly. Sophie can help. And Fan too when I’m done with her.”
Silana placed her ear protectors onto a nearby wall shelf, glanced at me, then led the way back to the armory. I gave a brief look to Fan and Dante. Fan smiled, but I trailed behind Silana without another word.
I brought my new double-barreled pistol with me though. It needed a holster.
***
IN THE ARMORY I FOUND a proper shoulder holster and harness to fit me and the 2011. Finding biker leather and body armor—or a combination of either—well, that proved to be more challenging. The armory wasn’t exactly the Big and Tall shop.
But I had the duo of Silana and Sophie working on my wardrobe.
By the time Fan hurried into the armory to help out, I was already in a leather jacket that Sophie had created in the workshop from two smaller versions. It was brown leather, and despite the retrofit, I have to say it looked good. It made hiding my sidearm a snap, too.
I wasn’t shy, but I entered a dressing room anyway.
“At least come out of there one time with your shirt off, or I’ll feel cheated forever,” Fan quipped through the closed door.
“Oh, that’s professional. Aren’t you supposed to be busy finding me shoes?”
“As if anything around here will fit those paddles!”
“You should have more respect. These ‘paddles’ could meet your caboose.”
Fan laughed, and I envisioned Silana’s feigned look of disapproval.
Silana came up with a pair of jeans I thought would be too small, but they fit me perfectly, felt comfortable, and were armor-stitched in all the strategic places. Perfect for motorcycling.
I tucked my old jeans into my backpack, along with my sneakers.
Despite her teasing, Fan found boots in the armory storage lockers. They weren’t cowboy style, but I didn’t complain. Black leather and rugged, with steel toes, they were perfect for a biker. Best of all, they were in my size fourteen.
“Conrad must have gotten a sale price on hard to sell shoes,” Fan said, which made Silana laugh loudly.
Gloves were the last item. My gorilla mitts are stupidly huge, so none of the full leather gloves fit me, but a pair of extra-large fingerless riding gloves did the job. I prefer having fingerless—it makes it easier to shoot and type on handheld devices.
Once they had me outfitted, the ladies assessed their work.
“Well, when you’re ready to form your own biker gang, you’ve definitely got the look down,” Fan said.
“Very handsome,” said Silana.
“You should be able to withstand most motorcycle accidents without serious injury,” Sophie noted.
“What about a helmet?” I asked.
Conrad walked into the Armory. “Dante will find one. He’s busy readying your Harley.” He moved around me in a circle. “Everything fitting okay?”
“Yeah, feels fine. I had all the helpers needed.”
“Superb. Only a couple more items I’d like to take care of before we head to the jet.” Conrad walked over to a rack of martial weapons I’d assumed were for practice or decoration, but when I looked closer, I realized that many of the swords, in both Western and Asian styles, were razor-sharp. “How are your hand-to-hand skills?”
“I’ve barely had any martial arts, to be honest, but I’ve seen my share of bar brawls. That’s how I got this...” I rubbed at a small scar that ran down my right cheek, just in front of the ear. “Guy thought he had a right to slash me with a broken bottle.”
“Lesson learned? Small scar for a bottle gash,” Conrad observed.
I shrugged. “I guess I heal well.”
“And the guy with the bottle?” asked Fan. “Did he live to tell the tale?”
“I tossed him into a crowd of my friends and bandmates. Didn’t even know he’d cut me... I was too busy with two other idiots.” I grimaced. “The crowd kicked the crap out of him, and then the bouncers got involved. I backed off at that point. I know security wherever I work and like to keep things legit.”
“What was the fight about?” Fan asked again.
I tilted my head. “What are bar fights always about?”
Conrad chuckled knowingly, but Fan gave us both a blank stare. Silana pursed her lips into half a grin.
I offered my hand to Fan, and she took it. Then I looked deeply into her light brown eyes, put on my best angsty face, and said in a low, breathy voice, “A woman.”
Fan slapped my hand away. “Oh, fuck you!” But she laughed along with the rest of us.
I didn’t protest. “Hey, I’m no saint, okay?”
“I knew you were trouble,” Fan replied.
“No more taken women, honest.” Vicki popped into my mind again. Funny how that works. “Vicki Lott, for instance.”
“The kidnapping victim? Our objective? You two were never a thing?” Fan looked genuinely surprised.
“I’d developed a code of conduct by the time I met Vicki. I still kick myself for it.”
“Chivalry,” said Silana.
“Commendable,” Conrad added. “Worthy of a sword, if I trusted you with one, yet, but for now—here.” Conrad handed me a nylon baton holster. “You should always carry a close quarters weapon.”
I inspected the case and removed what, at first glance, appeared to be just what I expected—a baton—but once it was in my hand, and I hefted it, I knew it was a more complex weapon.
“It’s a sentry baton. Flick your wrist and it extends. Not typically lethal, but it could be if you strike the head,” Conrad continued.
I snapped the baton out into an extended piece of steel almost as long as my arm. It felt light and dangerous in my grip.
“You’ll want to strike in the high-water areas of the body to stop someone. The thighs for instance. Strikes in the arms and chest can more seriously disable. And like I said, strike the head if you need to kill.” Conrad’s voice became ominous. “But with your size and strength you already know this can kill.”
“Yeah, I get it,” I agreed. “Good to have, just-in-case.” I half-removed my leather belt and added the baton holster to it.
When I looked up, Conrad was pulling something out of a wall locker he’d just unlocked with a thumb scan. He walked over with a black t-shirt on a hanger.
“I made this in the workshop last night. With you in mind.” Conrad handed me the clothes hanger and short-sleeved shirt.
Only it wasn’t just a t-shirt—when I reached to pull it off the hanger, the feel was all wrong.
“What’s this?” I asked. I pulled on the bottom of the cloth. It stretched only a fraction and snapped back into perfect shape.
“The finest body armor on Earth. My design too. Lighter, thinner, and tougher than Kevlar. You can wear it under just about anything that isn’t a v-neck and nobody will be the wiser.”
I held the armor up in front of me, then handed it and the loose hanger to Fan. I stripped off the newly crafted leather jacket and my green t-shirt.
“Oh my,” Fan sighed.
I laughed.
“Agent Zhan,” Conrad scolded, but only half-heartedly.
“Now I see why you should stay away from ‘taken’ women, Lochlan,” said Silana.
Fan was biting her bottom lip when I reached over to take the armored shirt from her.
“Oh, brother. Hurry up and get into that armor, boy, before they rush you. It’s like I’m watching an AXE commercial,” Conrad said, but through his own chuckling. “Honestly, Silana. You’ve sculpted nude athletes and behaved less like a schoolgirl.”
“You’re not being fair to those models, my love,” Silana replied. I met eyes with her as I got the armor over my head, and she looked away, grinning.
“Sorry. I should’ve used a dressing room.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Conrad scoffed. “How does that feel on you?”
I finished pulling my t-shirt back on and was amazed by how smoothly and easily it went over the thin armor.
“I can hardly tell I’m wearing it. Incredible.” I extended my arms and twisted at the waist in both directions.
Conrad thumped a hand on my chest and his workmanship. “I haven’t had time to test that shirt as extensively as I’d like, but the materials I used are definitely not standard grade. You won’t be Superman in it, but bullets will bounce. Usually.”
“I need the underwear next,” I half-joked.
“The equivalent is on my list.” Conrad grimaced. “I’m sorry this tech isn’t ready for the whole team, Fan. It’s a slow process.”
“No worries,” she replied. Fan opened a flap of her dark green, white-striped racing jacket, and revealed what I assumed was a Kevlar lining. I also noticed a shoulder holster.
“Nice,” I said. “Okay, so we seem to be set. I’d like to check out that Harley now, if you don’t mind.”
“I’m sure,” Conrad agreed. “Fan, take him to Dante please. Silana and I will make sure we’re prepared for the plane ride. We’ll call when we’re ready to go to the airport.”
“Yes, sir.” Fan tugged my right arm. “Come on, you.”
Silana gave me a reassuring smile. “Burgers for lunch?”
“Yes, please,” I answered over my shoulder, and let Fan lead me out of the Armory.
***
WE LEFT THE WOODS THAT hid the workshop then returned to the main part of the compound, where I’d parked the Bomber in the visitor’s circle. Dante was holed up in a horseshoe of three double-doored garages with my Harley and two BMW sport bikes.
He was wiping grease off his hands with a rag when Fan and I entered his open garage. “So, how d'ya like it?” Dante pointed a wrench at the Harley Road King parked in the garage's center.
The Harley was yet another beautiful machine being gift-wrapped for my use. It was painted in a high-gloss black, with chrome details across the wide-bodied frame. The twin exhaust tailpipes were customized in black, too, and had a look that reminded me of 50-caliber machine guns. They weren’t though, I checked. Can you blame me?
“Get on. That seat should give you a good three inches of extra leg and arm room,” Dante said. “It’s been used by some of my security crew, but none of them are your size. She’s practically brand new. As if somebody knew you were coming.”
Silana again? I climbed on the Road King and it fit like the new gloves I had on. “She’s outstanding, Dante. Fit is sweet.”
Dante tapped the bike behind my seat. “Great. Hard saddlebag containers are big enough for that backpack of yours, and I’ve already stashed some basic camping gear: rations, canteen, tent, mylar blankets, et cetera. Just in case we have to rough it in the wilds.”
“You’re taking those Beemers?” I asked.
“Yep. Fan and I ride these a ton.”
“Never ridden them in Nevada though,” Fan said. She patted the leather seat of her cycle.
Dante’s phone barked. He pulled it loose from his belt and clicked speaker mode. “Dante. Go ahead.”
It was Sophie. “Conrad wants you to bring the motorcycles via covered trailer, to avoid prying eyes. A trailer and escort vehicle will arrive shortly. Please prep and be ready to leave for the airport by 12:30.”
“Roger,” Dante replied.
“How long did it take to get used to that?” I asked.
“What? Oh—Sophie? Not long really,” Dante said. “She’s more human than most humans. And a shitload more trustworthy.”
“She’s saved our fat several times. And Conrad intends to give her legs, eventually,” chimed in Fan.
“Legs? Like robot legs?” I arched an eyebrow.
“No. Nothing that simple. There’s already a robot shell for her now, but she rarely needs to use it on the grounds...and it’s too clumsy for urban use.” Dante grabbed Fan by an arm for emphasis. “Android. Humanoid robot.”
“No shit?”
“No shit,” said Dante and Fan in unison.
“Okay, I should believe it after today, but so help me, if any of you turn out to be aliens, have the decency to not show me a tentacle.”
They both laughed.
Dante’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, damn. Almost forgot. Here’s a helmet. It’s equipped with communications gear. Satellite-rigged, so we’ll be good to go if we get separated.”
My helmet was reminiscent of a classic military guard—flat black and gray coloring—with a visorless eye space and removable muzzle piece that gave it an ominous appearance. I dug it.
I tried it on for size and sported my Ray-Bans with it. Again, either by luck or design, the helmet fit my big noggin perfectly.
“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier,” Fan said.
“Hey, the day ain’t over,” I replied, and waggled my helmeted head at her like drunk Darth Vader.
“Jesus, you two. Help me get these rides outside. Trailer’ll be here any minute.” Dante held up a hand. “Here’s your key, Loch. It’ll automatically engage and disengage the security system on your bike, depending how far away you get.”
I removed my helmet, accepted the key then pulled my backpack off my shoulder. I was about to store the pack in a saddlebag when I remembered that I’d stuck my contract inside before I left my apartment. I pulled the LMG paperwork out, then tucked the pages into a jacket pocket. Then I stuffed my gear safely into a saddlebag, locked it, and shoved my helmet onto the back of the bike
“All right. Let’s roll ‘em out,” I said.