The Shadow of Mudflap (A Foxtrot Team Novel #1) (5 page)

Shanae

Shanae swung her leather-clad leg over the seat of her black Hayabusa motorcycle in the gravel parking lot for Mickey’s, a bar that appeared to be full of other bikers from the amount of chrome in the parking lot. Word had come into LiFT that the Intrepids Motorcycle Club was holding a meeting here tonight about the same time they’d been informed she needed to be here for a pickup. She wasn’t sure if the two events were related or not.

When she’d moved to Lubbock, she’d begun to regularly hang out at this particular bar about once a week because of its reputation with the motorcycle gangs. Mickey’s was a seedy— but clean— little hole in the wall kind of bar, five minutes out of Lubbock on a little bitty country road. It was one of those bars that people found by reputation and word of mouth. Mickey, the owner, was a biker before it became cool and he catered to others like him. He had a true passion for motorcycles.

They knew her here so no one would question her on nights like tonight when something was actually going down. It just meant that she’d had to cut her date with Mudflap much shorter than she liked. But she couldn’t think about him now. She had a job to focus on here.

The bartenders and bouncers all knew her as Shay, a nurse with a serious motorcycle fetish. As Shay, she always came here in full black leather, a chic, straight, black blunt-cut wig, dark blue contacts in her eyes, heavy makeup, and a facial scar applied with a bit of prosthetics. The guys who frequented this bar couldn’t care less about how her face looked. Her body’s attributes were shown off in the tight, black leather, so no one ever looked twice at the facial scar. But it provided her another layer of anonymity if she ran into one of these guys in her other lives.

As she entered the darkened bar, a quick scan told her the motorcycle club was seated in a group at the back. She headed over to the bar, nodding at a few regulars along the way. Sliding into a barstool, she made eye-contact with Troy, the bartender, who came over to serve her.

“Hey, Shay. Corona or tequila for you tonight?”

“It was a long day at work. You better make it tequila.” As Troy turned around and grabbed the tequila bottle, she asked, “Is your little one over his croup yet?”

Troy poured her a shot and nodded. “Yeah, he’s great. Your suggestions really helped. Thanks.”

“So, what’s going on tonight? This isn’t your normal crowd.” She nodded her head toward the gang in the back.

Troy lowered his voice. “They come in every once in a while, but you should probably stay away from that group. They’re bad news.”

“Really?” She cocked an eyebrow and looked back over the group appraisingly. She’d already spotted a couple of guys she recognized as the upper echelon of the Intrepids leadership. “I don’t know. They look like they could be fun to me.” She gave a flirty smile as she met the gaze of one guy who just happened to be looking her way. She twisted slightly in her seat so the full effect of her leather push-up corset was obvious to the guy. Interest lit up in his eyes.

She didn’t want to be too obvious, so she turned back to Troy and tossed back the shot of tequila. “I’ll take another. Thanks, Troy.” Although, one was her limit when out on a mission. The next one would just be a prop for her to fiddle with as she sat at the bar.

The TV behind the bar was tuned to a sports channel where they were discussing college football. “So what do you think? Will Tech be able to go all the way like they’re predicting?”

Troy glanced over at the TV as he reached around to grab the tequila bottle. “I don’t know. Damn, Tech is king of choking and it’s way too early to judge their season yet, but they’ve looked good so far. Coach Porter has put together a good team.”

He set the second shot in front of her and a hundred dollar bill appeared over her right shoulder. “I’ll take care of the lady’s drinks,” a deep voice drawled close to her ear.

She turned to find the same guy she’d just made eye contact with from the gang. She gave him a flirty smile. “Well, thank you. I’m Shay. What’s your name, Cowboy?”

She stood and he used his body to cage her back against the bar. She practically purred to encourage him, ignoring the twinge of guilt over Mudflap. Right now, it should be his body over hers.

Where the hell had that come from? It had been one date and this was her job. She needed to stay focused on it. She gazed back into the hard grey eyes of a guy who’d obviously seen way too much in his life. He was attractive in a sexy, bad-boy kind of way with a dark shadow of scruff on his sculpted chin and hair that was about three months past its last needed haircut. The edge of a tattoo peeked past the neckline of his black fitted t-shirt.

“I’m Slade.” He leaned in against her and said, “Shay, you smell very nice, like cinnamon in the winter.”

That was the code phrase. She giggled flirtatiously. “Does that mean you want to eat me?”

He drew back from her and did a full-body perusal. “Oh baby, I wish I could, but unfortunately I have some business to take care of first. Maybe later?”

“If I’m still here when you’re finished, definitely come join me. But,” she looked at her watch, “this girl has to go to work tomorrow, so try not to be too long.” But they both knew that would never happen. He’d made the drop, slipping something into her jacket pocket as he’d leaned over her. It was her job to get out of here before things became complicated for both of them.

She looked longingly back over at the Intrepids. She’d love to stay and get some intel into what they were up to, but that could risk the information that had just been dropped in her pocket.

Information that she’d sacrificed the most perfect date over. Her job required her to look like she wanted to be here, but she’d much rather have still been on their date. She hated that she had to leave early. Just the thought that right now Mudflap should be the one flexing his large, muscular body over hers sent a zing of arousal down her spine.

Mudflap had that intense, fun, flirty thing going for him that made her think he’d be phenomenal in bed. Impatience banded with the need to find out. Maybe she’d have to call him up after she dropped the information by LiFT HQ.

Anticipation was such a powerful aphrodisiac and now that she had a plan, she was ready to get out of here. She fingered her tequila glass, ate a few nuts, and then casually left the bar.

She’d just hit the city limits when the intercom in her helmet activated. “Shadowfox, report your status.” Daniel’s voice was much more intense than normal.

“I’m five minutes from HQ.”

“Your way has been cleared. Make it in two.”

“Yes, sir.” She turned the throttle on the high-performance Hayabusa and quickly hit its max speed of over 200 mph.

Upon entering LiFT headquarters, Shanae glanced around the quiet lobby. Lift EMS was a private contractor for medical evacuation flights and ambulance services. That’s what worked out of the public part of the building, but she was headed to the top secret LiFT section in the basement.

She keyed a special code into the normal-looking elevator number pad. When it approved the sequence she entered, two machines slid out of the wall. On one, she placed her hand for a biometric read. For the other, she placed her chin on the appropriate bar to submit to the retinal scan. Only after both scans approved her did the elevator begin its descent to the basement.

When the elevator stopped, Shanae turned toward the innocuous back wall where a hidden door slid open to reveal the security area of LiFT. She walked forward into a scanner that looked like it was straight out of a science fiction movie with its strange lights and reflective walls. The floor slid forward about ten feet while it scanned and finally she was through the various checkpoints.

A sexy, deep electronic voice with a male Australian accent sounded over the system. “Good evening, Shadowfox. We’re thankful to see you here safe tonight.”

That didn’t sound good. A shiver of dread skittered down her spine.

The voice belonged to the interactive computer, SAM, which ran the security at LiFT. The computer regularly changed its voice based upon who interacted with it, the women received updates from an Australian male voice and the men received them in a female’s British accent. It was completely sexist, but no one had ever complained. SAM monitored all the teams both inside and outside of LiFT through their computer systems. The information was fed from the various satellites and GPS tracking units so it definitely knew when something was amiss.

“Thank you SAM. Can you tell me who from my team is in the building tonight?”

“Foxhunter and Firefox are in the war room.” Daniel, Foxhunter, was the team leader and Michael, Firefox, was their back-up pilot and paramedic. He also had a history as a firefighter, so he was working undercover at Mudflap’s fire station right now. It was odd for them both to be here this late on a Friday night.

“Thank you, SAM. Please advise them I’m in the building and will be there momentarily.”

She entered the war room where both Michael and Daniel peered at one of the many computer monitors that lined the far wall. It appeared to be broadcasting a live feed from drone surveillance. “What’s going on?” she asked them as she stepped closer to see the monitor. “Wait, is that the bar…” This was a live feed of Mickey’s, the bar she’d just left, only now it was engulfed in flames.

“What happened?” She thought of Troy, whose little boy was just barely over one and swallowed against the nausea. “Did anyone make it out?”

Daniel turned to her with relief in his eyes. “We don’t know anything yet. Until you checked in, I wasn’t sure that you had made it out.” He nodded his head at the screen. “Lift crews are en route to work EMS. We’ll know more after that, but it appears the place was firebombed right after you left. Were you able to do the pick-up?”

“Yes.” She handed the tiny microchip over to Daniel. “What about Slade? Was he one of ours or just an informant?” She glanced back at the fire-ravaged bar she’d just left.

“He’s DEA. He’s been undercover with the Intrepids for over two years. We don’t know who escaped and who didn’t at this point, but this doesn’t look good.”

“Could it have been ALT?”

“That’s very likely. We’ll know more after we analyze the information from this. You did well tonight, Shadowfox, and I’m glad you’re safe.”

A shiver worked its way down her spine. Whatever happened at the bar, she’d missed it by mere minutes.

Halftime Texting

Shanae
: Good morning. I’m sorry I had to skip out early on you last night. I had a good time.

Mudflap
: Me, too. Is everything okay at work?

Shanae
: Not really. Honestly, I really would have preferred ending my evening with you.

Mudflap
: Oh, really. Want me to come over now?

Shanae
: LOL, ready and willing, huh?

Mudflap
: Always…

Shanae
: Unfortunately, I’m still at work and need to get back to it.

Mudflap
: Still? Try to find time to get some rest when you can. I know what it’s like when the EMS crews are on call.

Shanae
: Thanks, Mudflap.

Mudflap
: I hope sweet dreams find you soon.

Mudflap

Mudflap sat in Grant’s hospital room, watching the Texas Tech football game. Grant still hadn’t come out of the coma and his wife, Donna, was beginning to feel the pressure and frustration. Mudflap had told her that he’d sit with him and they could watch the game together to give her a break.

As he glanced over at his partner, the ravages his body had experienced over the last couple of weeks were vividly apparent. He’d lost a significant amount of weight and bulk and was extremely pale.

“Tech’s having a good season and you’re missing it. This doesn’t happen very often and they actually look really good. You should wake up to see it. You’ll be kicking yourself later when you find out you slept through it all. They’re saying it could even mean a National Championship for us. Can you imagine? Derek and Riley made a bet as to which team is going to end up on top— Tech or A&M. Knowing our luck, they probably just jinxed us and made it a sure thing that Texas will win it all.”

Mudflap watched the screen where they were showing close-up shots of Coach Porter. Damn, the man was not handling the pressure well at all. He appeared ragged. Normally, he stayed pretty calm and collected, but the guy looked almost ill today. Right now he was talking to his young quarterback.

He looked back over at Grant and then pointed to the screen. “If we can keep him healthy, we’re going to have a good couple of years with Benny Holman as the quarterback. The kid can nail his receivers almost every single time. He has an arm that coaches dream about.”

Mudflap refocused on the coach. Tech was fortunate. In his mid-thirties, Coach Porter had two young children and he constantly talked up the fact that he wanted his kids to grow up in Lubbock. He’d only been the coach for three years, but he was a good fit in this close-knit community and the town adored him. He was already creating a dynasty that fans hoped would last for many decades.

The sound of the game echoed across the quiet room. It wasn’t right to have Grant lie there so quiet while a football game was on TV. Grant was one of those rabid fans who was constantly jumping up and yelling at the TV and the refs like he could change the outcome from home.

He glanced over at his friend and motioned toward the TV. “Do you see him? I think Coach Porter could use your advice this week. He’s rattled.”

Mudflap took a double-take at the screen as the camera showed a close-up of the coach. “Well, I’ll be damned. What the hell is going on?” he muttered. First the coach looked stressed way beyond what was normal for him and now Mudflap spotted the unmistakable bulge of a sidearm tucked under his shirt. Since the coach regularly had state troopers surrounding him at games, that was not normal.

Mudflap kept his running narration of the game rolling for Grant while he watched things on the screen more closely. “Luckily the team is strong enough that whatever is going on with him doesn’t appear to be bothering them. Only one and a half quarters in and they’re already ahead by twenty-four. It’s definitely going to be a good year.”