The Biker's Fate Chapter 403

Flea

Since my bike was at Grace's grandmother's, I hitched a ride with Train and we pulled into the compound to find the parking lot almost full.

"All-hands," Train observed.

"Thanks, Captain Obvious," I said and climbed out of the truck, heading inside. Every club brother, along with Ace and Knight's biological FBI brother, Jaxon, milled in the great room. What I wasn't expecting to see was Grace's dad. I made my way to him. "Does Grace know you're here?"

Ryan shook his head. "Merrick filled me in on what happened. I'm hoping I can help."

I crossed my arms. "If you're expectin' me to keep this from Grace, you need to adjust those expectations."

"Hatch had my back when he could have told me to fuck off," he said. "I plan to help however I can. I'd like to keep this from Grace for as long as possible, but if you feel you need to tell her that's up to you. As a side note, I've checked you out, and I know you're clean. I also know you're Hatch's guy, which means somethin', but you hurt my little girl and I will bring down a world of hurt, this shit with Hatch will look like child's play. We clear?"

"Clear, man," I said and walked to where Booker and Hawk were in a heated discussion. "What's goin' on?" I asked.

"Not sure. Crow's been meeting with Mack for a while," Hawk said.

"Has Mack been to see Hatch yet?" I asked.

"I just said I don't know anything," Hawk replied, sounding irritated.

"He's acting as his lawyer, right?"

"I don't fucking know, Flea," Hawk growled.

A loud whistle sounded and we all turned to face Crow. "Right, brothers, this is the situation," he said as he walked to the center of the room, Mack and Jaxon flanking him at each side. "According to what Jaxon's been able to find out, the local PD are holding Hatch for suspicion of producing explosives."

"What the fuck?" I snapped.

"It gets worse. They've notified the FBI, who will most likely detain him under the Patriot Act. That's why it was on Jax's radar so quickly."

"Hatch is no fucking terrorist," Ace said, to nods all around.

"No one said anything about terrorists," Crow said. "Only that they're holding him for questioning regarding making explosives."

"Which is also complete horse shit!" Hawk exclaimed with a scoff.

"Obviously," Crow replied. "We all know Hatch, and I know that he would never purchase large amounts of bomb making materials."

"Is that what the cops are claiming?" I asked, unable to comprehend Hatch doing anything of the sort.

"Yes, in a nutshell, that's why he's being detained," Jaxon said. "Portland PD was given an anonymous tip that a man matching Hatch's description has been seen at local building supply and box stores purchasing large quantities of acetone, fertilizer, and pool cleaner, as well as items like lengths of pipe, duct tape, and spools of wire. These are all obvious ingredients of mass producing pipe bombs, or other explosive devices."

"No fucking way, not Hatch, and this is total bullshit that he could be hauled off just because someone makes a phony fucking phone call," I said.

"That's not all they have, Flea. I wish it was," Mack said, with something in his voice I'd never heard before; fear.

"What is it?" I asked. "You're his lawyer, what do you know?"

"That's just it," Mack said. "I'm not his lawyer. No one is."

"What about his Miranda rights?" I asked.

"Miranda rights don't apply here, because Hatch hasn't been arrested. He's simply being detained, and under the Patriot Act, that can be for as long as deemed necessary, without counsel."

"Based on what? What the fuck do they have besides this so-called concerned citizen's phone call?"

"For starters, Hatch's internet browser history, and it's not pretty. Anarchist web sites, manuals on DIY bomb-making, schematics and architectural drawings of local buildings—"

"All of that can easily be faked by someone who knows what they're doing, right Booker?"

"Not easily," Book countered. "Not if it's passing the cop's sniff test, anyway. It also wouldn't be a cheap forgery, I can tell you that. They must feel good about this intel, because they moved in fast as hell."

"That's not all," Crow said, and nodded for Jaxon to continue.

"They have Hatch on surveillance video at three stores buying this stuff, his credit card transaction records at each of them," Jaxon said. "They've also got a photo of him, and his vehicle taken from a red-light cam, one block away from the last store he visited."

"No… no fucking way," I said.

"Look, none of us believe that Hatch is planning on blowing up the courthouse or anything—"

"Who said he's actually involved at all? Doesn't anyone here actually have his back?" I asked.

"They've got a lot of solid initial evidence here, Flea," Jaxon said. "I don't want to believe it either, but obviously something's going on here, and the police are just doing their jobs. Frankly, if I had the kind of information and evidence they have, I'd be just as inclined to move on it as they are."

"Yeah? Well, I'm inclined to tell the cops and the FBI to suck my left nut, because there's no way in hell Hatch would ever be making pipe bombs in his basement while trolling skinhead porn sites! And if any of you think he's capable of that kind of shit, then you should be ashamed to call yourselves his brothers."

"Okay, calm down before you rupture an ovary, Flea," Crow said. Much needed laughter broke some of the tension in the room. "No one said we believed the cops, just that they have a strong case against our boy. Not only do we think he's got nothing to do with this, we think we know who's behind the frame job."

"Who the fuck would frame Hatch?" I asked.

"Los Psychos," Crow said.

"I thought they packed up and left town after everything that went down with the Burning Saints," Hawk said.

"They did, but they're pissed at the Dogs for helping the Saints run them out, and it looks like they've hired some heavy hitters to put the hurt on Hatch."

A few months ago, our club had rekindled an old relationship with a rival club in town called the Burning Saints. Minus, their newly patched-in president needed some help with a rival club from Mexico, as well as some guidance in cleaning up their club internally. We were more than happy to help them out, in exchange for some future services rendered; whenever called upon, of course. Apparently, our help didn't go unnoticed by Los Psychos, and although they left town, they weren't gone for good or done with the Burning Saints or the Dogs of Fire. To make matters worse, Hatch's sister is Minus's old lady, which is likely why he was their target.

"Los Psychos is sending us a message," I said.

"Clearly, now we need to figure out how to respond," Crow replied.

"Without making Hatch's situation with the local cops, the FBI, or Homeland Security any worse," Jaxon added.

"Any thoughts?" I asked, flippantly.

"I think we might need to call in that favor from the Burning Saints sooner than we'd thought," Crow said.