Chapter 4: The Betrayal

It was the morning after the fight in the Horny Bull and Lara ached. She had taken a few good hits in that brawl, especially near the end. She had an impressive black eye and there were a few other bruises and marks about her body. It was nothing new; Lara had spent more than a few mornings like this, nursing her wounds and exulting that she was still in one piece. She still had memories of her Natla adventure, injecting antibiotics with shaky fingers while dizzy with pain, or stitching up wounds with a sewing needle while miles underground and alone. It was hard to keep the terror away in times like that, but Lara had managed then -somehow- and next to that last night was nothing.

Lara was normally a solitary person and enjoyed it that way. It drove her matchmaking parents crazy. Sometimes, though, it would have been nice to have some one to share things with. After a brush with death, to have some one to celebrate life with. Maybe it was more base than that, more physical. It had been a very long time, and she was a healthy woman.

Rubbish. Lara overcame problems, and that included any itches she may need scratched. She knew what brought those thought on: Ben Polecat. He was an arrogant, rude, insufferable chauvinist but also strong, tough and determined. This is pathetic. She was mooning about like a school girl, but still those broad shoulders, dark brooding eyes, that firm jaw...

Ben may of caught her interest but if there was ever a relationship more doomed to failure. They were too different, no that wasn't it. They were too alike, each used to being the toughest in the room and trying to dominate the other. He couldn't handle a tough woman, she thought, he needed them meek and submissive and that wasn't going to happen with her.

Lara shook her head in disgust and finished braiding her hair. She wasn't wearing her shorts and top today. They showed off her bruises too well and were dirty besides. Not that she hadn't worn them for days—weeks—straight before but this morning she felt like wearing something fresh. A faded black Nike T-shirt and equally faded blue jeans, with her boots and gun belt. She'd gone out unarmed one evening too many and didn't care to repeat her mistake.

She looked in the mirror and examined the deep purple bruise there. Nothing could hide it, so she didn't bother. It was a war scar, and she'd bear it proudly. Checking the safety's on her guns, she left her dingy hotel room and went down for breakfast with Flo. She hadn't survived last night unscathed, either, Lara saw, with a bruise on her cheek, but most of her bruises were on her knuckles. I bet who ever picked on her regretted it.

"Morning, honey!" Flo called out in her western twang. "How'd you like our fine town's entertainment last night?" She handed Lara a cup of coffee which had been waiting on the counter. Lara took it happily and took a big sip. Ahh, caffeine.

"Charming." Lara placed the coffee on the counter.

"I see you didn't get out of that place without some sort of scrap, I see." Flo said, indicating Lara's black eye. "You all in one piece?"

Lara smiled and drank some more coffee. "I'm in somewhat better shape then the man who did this to me." She didn't add that Ben had been the one who had taken him out, not her.

"So I heard. You left a bunch of guys on the floor." Flo chuckled. "Where'd you learn how to do that anyway? You looked like you were doing some Bruce Lee thing to them."

Lara shrugged. "Aikido and a bit of karate. I started studying when I was in college." As a way to deal with stress and grief, after I watched my fiancé die in front of me.

Flo smiled. "Well, you sure cleaned up. You want breakfast? Toast?"

"Yes, please." Lara looked out the window. It was a lovely morning. "Could you bring it to me outside, please? I think I'd like to be in the sun."

"Sure thing," Flo said as she bustled back the kitchen. "You take my electro-mag out with you, and I'll bring out toast and fresh coffee." She disappeared into the back. Lara took the E-zine outside with her and downloaded the London Times. She made her way to a faded and dusty picnic table and sat in an equally faded chair. Lara idly flipped through stories while sipping her luke-warm coffee.

The weather was nice. It was still early, so the oppressive desert heat hadn't swept in yet, and there was a mild breeze. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked. She tried to find something of interest in the paper but found herself unable to do so. Current events: the latest Royals scandal, what bill was passing in parliament, the latest round of aggression in the middle east, all seemed trivial. She spent her time solving 2000 year old mysteries or fighting off toughs that had no idea where the middle east was. It was like she was in a different world sometimes.

Flo came outside then, interrupting Lara's musings. She had a carafe of coffee, toast and that wretched soy-spread... "Thank you, Flo."

"Ah, shoot, its just toast. You should have let me make you something." Flo sat down and refilled both of their coffees.

"No thank you, toast is fine."

"Hey, did you see Ben take on that Gunny character?" Flo asked, her eyes dancing. She went on with out waiting for an answer. "Man those two went into each other. I swear that man is never as handsome as when he's pummeling someone."

Flo regaled Lara with a somewhat slanted version by blow of Ben's fight. In Flo's version, Ben was just as tall as Gunny, Lara fit no where into the equation, and Gunny was sent off with his tail between his legs. Lara ate in silence, letting Flo go on with her story. The woman was allowed her fantasies, and this tale certainly had little anchorage in the real world. Lara tuned out the words, listening to the flow of the older woman's voice as she studied the landscape. She was finishing off her last slice of toast when something Flo said brought her back to reality.

Lara sat up straighter in her chair. "I'm sorry, Flo what was that last bit you said?"

"I said, I'm pretty sure Willie didn't mean to nail Ben with that mug, but it sure knocked him for a loop."

"I'm sorry, do mean Big Willie, one of the Polecats?"

Flo nodded. "Yup. Ben's probably tanning the guy's hide right now, but anyway, when Ben got up he was more pissed off then ever." she continued to talk as Lara's mind raced.

How can you hit some one in the head with a beer mug by mistake? Lara hadn't liked Willie from the moment she had first met him, two days ago in the Kickstand. It was more than his being rude and fast with his hands, the man seemed untrustworthy, and this proved it.

Things like this happen in gangs all the time, Lara reminded herself, and this one had nothing to do with her. Ben seemed like he was more than capable to handle discipline in his ranks. Lara was sipping her coffee, half listening to Flo, when someone caught her eye.

Speak of the devil, and he show's up. Big Willie, looking cautious, walked down the street. "I'm sorry, Flo, excuse me please." Without waiting for an answer she got up from the table and walked down the street. The way Willie was moving, quickly and looking over his shoulder often, as well as the way he jumped at any sound, set off Lara's suspicion alarms. The man was sneaking around for some reason, although he wasn't doing it well. Lara managed to stalk him easily as he walked down the street without being seen. The question was what was he doing in Baron's Head that he didn't want anyone to know about?

Willie walked up to an abandoned boarded up store front and looked around him. Lara ducked behind an old stripped Toyota, and when she popped her head up, he was gone.

She crept across the street to the building where she had last seen him. Peeking between the cracks of the boarded up windows, she peeked inside. Her field of vision was pretty limited, but after scanning about for a bit she saw him. Willie was shaking a man's hand whom she couldn't see, then the unknown man put a large wad of cash in Willie's hand. This does not bode well. She went to another window, trying to catch a glimpse of who Willie was talking to. When she saw who it was, for some reason she was not surprised. It seemed appropriate, somehow. The man was Gunny.

After a concluding handshake, Gunny and Willie parted ways, and Lara made her self scarce. If Willie and Gunny were dealing together, then this had to be bad for the Polecats, and for Ben. It's none of my business Lara chided herself. Ben can take care of himself.

For a moment she almost convinced herself, but then she was running back to Flo's, to get her bike and warn Ben.

The Polecat's home roost was secret. Ben didn't like other gangs and independents knowing where he parked his bike when he slept. All of the Polecats were sworn to secrecy, and when one left they changed the location. Currently, it was in a small steep sided canyon about 65 miles out of Baron's Head. The guys lived in tents, prefab houses or motor homes. There was an old striped circus tent that they used as a communal garage and storage depot. The gas tank, a portable 200 gallon fuel trailer with electric pump, was kept a ways away from everything else, just in case. Power for the place ran off a gasoline generator.

Most of the set up and tear down stuff was handled by Jackson, but it was Ben's camp, and he was proud of it. Ben's pad was a prefab wood framed tent. His bike and an old worn ramp with day glow flames sat outside his door.

Inside, it had a marine issue cot & foot locker. A hardwood dresser, booty from a raid, sat in the corner with only one piece of ornamentation, a worn and bedraggled battery powered yellow rabbit. Dirty clothes littered the ground as well as several used paper plates and empty beer cans. It wasn't the Hilton, but it was home and Ben liked it a hell of a lot better than one of the other places he had stayed: Leavenworth.

It was after noon but Ben was still in bed. He was dressed in what had once been a white T-shirt and a tan pair of surplus fatigue pants. He and the guys had been out late, scouring the desert for any sign of Gunny or his wannabe gang, the Leathernecks. All it had gotten them were headaches and a bunch of empty gas tanks. That Gunny had vanished off the face of the damn Earth, but he couldn't stay hidden forever. When he raised his ugly crew-cutted head, Ben would stomp on it once and for all.

In the mean time, though, Ben was hurt, although he would never admit it to anyone. That Gunny packed a hell of a wallop. Next time Ben had a few tools that might put things in his favour, like his tire iron, chain, chain saw, or best, his .303 lever action Winchester which Ben liked to call Betsy. He still wished that he'd had Betsy on him when he got into that whole Corley thing last year. It would have gone a lot differently.

"Riders!" The call came from the look out that Ben had posted at the top of the canyon. Ben had two lookouts posted at any one time, unless the gang was out riding. Ben had learned a big lesson last year to watch against ambushes. He got out of bed with a curse, holding his side. Gunny had nailed him there, and one of his Leathernecks had too. Well, Ben was tough. He could take it.

He got to his feet and grabbed his jacket, which hung from a peg on the wall. Ben had gotten this jacket from Father Torque himself when he first joined the Polecats twelve years ago. It fit him like a second skin and was his second most proud possession next to his bike. He put on his shades and stepped outside. Most of the guys were still sacked out, but Jackson was up and so were a few others.

Heads poked out of doors at the call, though no one was really alert yet. The sentry hadn't called 'attackers' or 'code red', which was short for 'every body arm your self with something'. Still, the guy hadn't sounded an ID or all clear yet, so Ben strode over to his bike and grabbed Betsy from its holster. Better safe than sorry. He levered a round into the chamber.

"Its father Torque!" the sentry called out. "And Ben's chick!" Huh? Ben didn't have a chick. The only person he could think of was either Flo-if it was her he was going to shoot on sight-or else. "Croft." Great. Just what he needed. He was pissed that she knew where the Polecats called home, but if the Father brought her here, then it must be on the up and up. He'd strangle her later.

Ben could hear the bike coming now, the loud cutting roar of Corley engines. He but Betsy back with a swear. He thought that he'd seen the last of Lady Grace, but it seemed that at least one more meeting was in the cards. Walking towards the camp entrance, Ben waited for the two riders.

They were both on one bike, Croft's, which was weird. Torque never took anyone else's bike unless something serious was up. The hairs on the back of Ben's neck began to rise. Something bad was going to happen, he could feel it. Both of their face's were grim.

Torque stopped the bike in front of Ben and handed the keys to Lara. He got off and extended his hand to Ben's. "Sorry to stick my nose in, Ben."

Ben's hand was crushed in the Father's grip like always. "No trouble's, Father. You're always welcome in my camp." The reply was custom, but Ben's tone was pissed off.

"The little lady said she had something really important to tell you." He indicated Lara.

Ben frowned and narrowed his eyes, glaring at Lara.

She leaned against her bike like she didn't have a care in the world. "So. Tell me." He crossed his arms across his chest and the only sound was that of creaking leather. This had better be good.

Well, Ben certainly looked angry. If his sunglasses were off, she was sure that his dark eyes would be spitting fire right at her. He was angry now, but after what she had to tell him he was going to be furious.

"Hello, Ben." She said, leaning against her bike, trying to set a light tone. Everyone near Ben and Lara made themselves scarce, leaving the two of them alone. I wish I could join them.

"Don't 'hello Ben' me, Croft." His jaw could have snapped chain. "What the hell are you doing here, and why did you drag Father Torque into it?" Well, he certainly was angry

"Father Torque is the only person who knew how to find you." She answered calmly. "I thought that it was important enough, so I asked him."

His frown grew bigger, if that was possible. "What was important enough? What are you talking about?"

Lara took a breath before continuing. He really wasn't going to like this. "You have a spy."

She saw his knuckles turn white, and could almost hear his tendons creak. "Spy? for what?"

She didn't answer immediately and began walking towards the communal garage. She could hear Ben stomping along behind her, impatient. "I would guess the location of this camp."

"That's sure as hell easy enough." He snapped off. "They just have to follow you here. This place is supposed to be a secret."

She was handling this wrong. She wasn't here to bait Ben, as much fun as it may have been. "This isn't about me, Ben. I saw Big Willie take money from Gunny."

He looked as if some one had hit him with a plank. "Huh?"

She tried to explain. "They made a deal for something." She brought her hands up in frustration. "It makes sense that Gunny would want the location of this camp so that he can launch a pre-emptive strike against you." I didn't betray you her eyes told him.