Spider Monkey’s POV
I-5 North of Los Angeles
“We’re going to need to rent a vehicle for this, maybe two,” Chase said as we sped towards Los Angeles.
“What kind?” The car we were in wasn’t enough to pick up more than one person. Two, if I sat in Vic’s lap, which would be fine with me.
He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. “Depending on how much cash they are holding at that building, it could be a pallet or more. Add in that my brother is going to be arriving with between eight and twelve more men, and all their gear?”
“So a van, something with a closed back that we can load into. A U-haul? The men could sit in the back, and it would be quick to load.”
He nodded. “That would work.” He got a look on his face as he realized something. “You know, the Oklahoma City bomber was identified because he rented a van like that. If one of us rents it, we’re leaving a trail.”
“Could your brother or one of the men do it?”
He shook his head. “We need to pick them up with the vehicle, so no.”
I just smiled as I reached into my bag. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I wanted to drink before I was twenty-one,” I said. Finding the hidden seam, I pulled open the thin compartment where I kept my emergency supplies. I pulled out a plastic bag and opened it; inside was everything I would need. “May I introduce Mariko Lim, my alter ego.”
He took the driver’s license out of my bag. “How…”
“I realized long ago that an alternate identity might keep me out of trouble. Mariko here has a history going back almost two decades. Driver’s license renewals, credit cards, social security number, she’s been carefully maintained to avoid scrutiny.”
“The photograph? It’s like you, but not perfectly.”
“True. When they started using facial recognition, I substituted a woman in China who looked similar for my photograph. It didn’t take much to hack the DMV database, changing the image in there as well. She even has a job and an apartment.”
“You’re kidding me,” Vic said. “How have you maintained that?”
“A friend manages an apartment complex. There is a mailbox for Apartment 4K, but you won’t find it if you go there. I stop by and pick up the mail every few days. The only thing I haven’t done is register to vote because I don’t want to get called for jury duty.” I smiled as I pulled out the auto insurance card. “She owns an old Ford Tempo that is parked at the apartment and carries minimal insurance.”
“Wow, you thought this out,” Vic said.
“Hackers are on alert for compromise all the time, Vic. Mariko allows me to hide income and expenses, while little old me works as a Google drone waiting to retire early on my stock options,” I giggled. “She’s never gotten a ticket, unlike me.”
Chase looked out the window; we were hitting Los Angeles traffic on the north side, and we had to get all the way around to Long Beach. We might spend as much time stuck in traffic as we did driving down. I started searching for rental places near Long Beach, figuring we didn’t want to drive far from the airport to get it. I heard a buzz and he reached into his pocket, checking the text message. “It’s my brother,” he said. “Their plane is arriving at Long Beach at half-past midnight. He’s bringing eleven with him, including Charlie and his four brothers,” he said. I looked at him, not getting it. “Charlie and Four? C-4, a military-grade plastic explosive. It means they came prepared for most anything.”
Damn. His family didn’t mess around. “So what do we do until then?” It was just after six.
“We should stop and eat. Spider, you should reserve the truck and maybe find a hotel for the night,” Chase said. “After we’ve got the truck, I can go visit Director Grimes while you guys pick the men up at the airport.”
“We should drive past the warehouse and their clubhouse, just to get familiar with the area,” Vic said.
“All good ideas, but let’s get some food,” I said. We stopped at an In-N-Out burger and loaded up on all kinds of stuff that wasn’t healthy but tasted damn good. I planned to get a lot of exercise tonight, so I didn’t even feel guilty. We decided to rent from a place in Anaheim so that Chase could take the car, plus we were running out of time before the store closed. I rented it for three days on Mariko’s credit card, telling them I would return it in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. I also rented a block of eight rooms at a hotel near the Queen Mary in Long Beach.
We got to the rental place at seven-thirty, and Vic walked off while and I entered the store. The rental went without a problem as I pretended I was moving to my boyfriend's hometown, and the woman teased me about the Midwest winters. I got a mid-size truck with sixteen feet of cargo space, leaving plenty of room for people.
Parking it in the back of the hotel lot just after nine at night, I looked over at Vic in the passenger seat. “Let’s go check-in,” I said.
“We’ve got a few hours until we pick the brothers up,” he said as he sent me a smoldering look. “What shall we do?”
“You’re going to pound me into a puddle in the middle of the bed,” I said as I leaned over and kissed him. “Come on, stud.”
Ten minutes later, we were approaching our room. I was hot and bothered on the way up, his teasing and casual touches of my body sending delightful tingles through me. All I had to do was think back to last night, and the way he loved me up; I couldn’t wait for more. I opened the door and turned on a light before going over to close the shades. “No,” he said as I reached for the heavy drapes. “Open the curtains all the way.”
I did what he said as the room darkened again; the lights of the city were the only illumination in the room. I turned to look at him; he was standing a few feet away, his intimidating body bristling with strength and sexual energy. It was like he was hunting me, and it was hot as hell. “Vic, what…”
“Strip,” he commanded. I did what he said, pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it into the corner. My shorts and underwear soon followed, and I was standing naked in front of him; anyone looking at the room would see me. “Turn around and put your hands high on the window.” I moved forward, stretching up, my legs spreading as I looked out. I heard clothes hitting the floor and sensed him as he moved forward. His hard cock poked me halfway up my back; such was the difference in height between us. “Don’t move a muscle, or I won’t let you cum for me,” he said into my ear.
I was so turned on right now; I was dripping onto the carpet. I looked forward, seeing the city below from our tenth-floor window. He reached around me, cupping my breasts, and pinching my nipples gently as his mouth moved to nibble at my neck. I moaned as he wrapped me in his strong arms. I tried to stand on my tiptoes, to encourage him to sheathe himself deep inside me, and all it gained me was a loud smack on the ass. “I told you not to move,” he said. “Now you won’t cum until I do.”
I whined as his hands kept working me into a frenzy in front of the window, but every time I got close, he’d stop and move somewhere else. He was driving me mad with lust, and I loved every second with my big man. I wanted to move so bad, but his warning kept me from doing anything else. “Please,” I begged him.
“Hold onto the window frame and don’t let go,” he said. I let out a screech of surprise as his big hands reached around my thighs and lifted me until I was a little past horizontal. He set my legs on his shoulders as he stood tall. His mouth latched onto my hot pussy, and I almost let go.
I was shaking, I needed to cum so bad, and he was driving me wild. I was looking down through the window at the parking lot and the city, while his talented tongue plunged my helpless body. I’d never felt so absolutely at the mercy of my lover, and I loved it. He tongue-lashed me for a couple of minutes as I begged him to let me cum. He moved his head back. “Suck me,” he said before going back to suck on my aching clit.
I looked down; he was hard and ready. I trusted him to keep me from falling, so I just let go of the window and let my hips bend. I put my hands on his thighs as I engulfed his large cockhead. I knew he wouldn’t let me orgasm until he did, so I pulled out all the stops as we did a standing 69 in front of the window. I took him deep into my throat, swallowing hard against the gag reflex, then came back out. My thighs were shaking with need as he warned me not to cum yet.
I could feel him swell in my mouth as he got closer. I felt him move forward, my back pressing up against the window as his length pushed into my throat. He started to cum as he sucked hard on my clit, and I came so hard I saw stars. I lost control of my body; only his arms around me kept me from falling as the sensations rolled over me. His load had gone deep into my throat, and I gasped for air as he pulled back out. “Holy shit,” I said as I hung there.
He walked over to the bed, my neck hitting the edge before he pushed my body onto my back, my face looking up at his spent cock. “We’re not done yet,” he said. “Get me hard again.”
“Yes, sir,” I said with a smile. I laid my head back over the edge of the bed, setting myself up for a good throat fuck. Taking him back in my mouth, I swirled my tongue around him. The faster I could get him hard, the sooner he’d be inside me.
I wasn’t going to waste a moment with the best lover of my entire life.
I dropped off Vic and Monkey at the rental place, then drove a few miles away to make sure I wasn’t on the same cell tower they were. Pulling into a parking lot, I pulled out my phone and texted Frank Grimes from the phone I’d used earlier for him. “NEED MEET W/U 2NITE,” I sent.
It took a few minutes to get a reply. “FLYING IN VERY LATE MEET ME AT OFFICE TOMORROW.”
I didn’t want to tip anything, so I told him OK and turned off the phone again. Knowing he was not going to be around for a while, I set off for the piers in Long Beach. Over the next few hours, I surveilled both the Clubhouse and the Warehouse where the money was from a distance. I could see people in the Clubhouse, but the gates were closed, and no one was arriving or leaving. They looked like they were on lockdown too. I could see armed men by the fence and on top of the building.
I didn’t want to risk getting out of the car or getting close enough one of the Werejaguars could scent me. I spent some time looking at how to get in and out of the warehouse without being seen by the cops that would be surrounding the Clubhouse in a raid. When I was satisfied, I drove back to Anaheim and parked down the street from his house. I walked around the block, making sure there were no feline scents larger than house cat size, then grabbed the packet of printouts and a thermos of coffee. His home had been built in the ’20s and had a full front porch with a hanging chair. I sat in a dark corner away from the door, poured myself a cup, and waited.
I had a pocket AM/FM radio and tuned to a 24-hour news station while I waited. The raid in Oakland was leading the news, and I was shocked at the death toll. The Sons weren’t going quietly, and the commentators were full of speculation about what this meant for them. “A major drug bust is a game-changer,” one of the commentators, a former US Attorney from California, said. “If they can tie this to other chapters, they have a criminal conspiracy that brings the Racketeering Influence and Corrupt Organizations statutes, commonly known as RICO, into play. It would not shock me if this club ceased to exist by the new year,” he said.
“Really? That fast,” the host asked.
“If they can make the links, then yes. The RICO statutes were put in place in the fight against organized crime, and a criminal gang can be taken down that way. If the Government can prove there have been at least two acts of racketeering activity within a 10-year period, and those acts are related in one of four ways to an ongoing criminal enterprise, they can use RICO.”
“What exactly is a racketeering activity?”
“There are twenty-seven federal crimes and eight state crimes that meet the definition. Drug smuggling certainly meets that bill, as does murder, kidnapping. and extortion. They’ve got them with at least one with this bust; if you include the attacks on the Steel Brotherhood clubhouse and the murders of current and former law enforcement officers, you’ve got more than two. If these acts are tied back to the Club leadership, proving the criminal enterprise is straightforward.”
“What does that mean for the Sons of Tezcatlipoca?”
“It’s a hammer. Each charge of racketeering can result in a fine of up to $25,000 and twenty years in Federal prison. The Feds can also immediately seize all the ‘ill-gotten gains’ of that criminal enterprise, and those assets are forfeited if they are found guilty.”
“Wait, they take their money?”
“Not just their money; they can seize businesses, homes, properties, jewelry, cars, anything they can show was paid for in whole or part by the proceeds of that criminal enterprise. Usually, prosecutors can use the hammer of RICO to get defendants to cooperate in prosecutions in exchange for lesser sentences. The US Attorneys love RICO because it’s easier to prove a pattern of acts and take out the leadership than to prove an individual leader ordered a specific act. We just charge them ALL.”
“What about the victims? If the Federal Government takes all its assets, what happens to them?”
“Well, Bob, the RICO statutes allow for civil cases. For instance, if the Steel Brotherhood in Orlando can prove in civil court that the ‘enterprise,’ in this case the Sons of Tezcatlipoca, damaged their business or property, they can file a RICO suit for damages. In these cases, they are suing the enterprise, not the individual, and the Fifth Amendment doesn’t help you in civil court.”
“Because in civil court, if you refuse to answer the question, the jury can assume you are hiding the truth.”
“Exactly. If Federal actions are ongoing, they’ll have to plead the Fifth. It almost makes me wish I hadn’t retired; this case will be the highlight of a prosecutor’s career. When they are done with the Sons, they won’t have a Club, a motorcycle or even a Club cut. They’re going to lose everything.”
The talk show moved to commercial, and I smiled as I thought about what I had on the small table next to me. The account statements would tie each chapter to the drug trade, and the hammer would fall. I’m sure Mongo had lawyers already working on a civil suit.
The night was beautiful, and it was just after two in the morning when lights moved across me as a car drove into the driveway. The Mercedes sedan parked in the detached garage, then I heard the footsteps coming closer. The motion-activated light came on as Frank Grimes walked up the stairs, and he froze as he spotted me. “Chase?”
“I couldn’t wait,” I said.
“Come on in.” He opened the door and walked into his kitchen, grabbing a couple of beers out of the fridge. “What’s so important you came all the way down here?”
I set the manila envelope down on the table. “My informant gave me printouts of the offshore bank accounts where the Sons are laundering their money. I’ve looked at them; they show payments to each of the Chapters, as well as the incoming and outgoing funds to the dummy corporations they are using. I thought you might find them useful.”
He set his beer down unopened and flipped through the package. The accounts had been organized by chapter and the person making the transfer was identified in the margins. “Well, raise my rent; this is real?” I nodded. “Who did you get this from?”
“I can’t say, but it’s legit. All I ask is that you give me an hour’s warning before you hit the Los Angeles clubhouse so I can get him out of there.” I didn’t have a source in that Chapter, but he didn’t have to know that. “You should move fast; they might already be destroying evidence after the drug bust last night.”
He nodded. “I’ll get this verified immediately; then I’ll contact the US Attorney and get a warrant. Don’t get too far from your phone.” He reached out his hand. “You’ve come through big time, Chase. Thank you for letting us handle it.”
“It was the best thing for the Club,” I said. “Good luck, and keep my name out of this.” I walked out the door and drove away, headed for the hotel. My brothers and the Warriors they brought along should be in, and we needed to meet.
It was going to happen soon.