Our Only Hope - S01 E34

Story 9 months ago

Our Only Hope - S01 E34

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 34

As I was silently accelerating into the night, Sam’s voice said loudly and firmly in my earpiece, “High Rooftop Lounge, thirty minutes.”

That was not part of the plan. Something major must have gone wrong, but there was nothing I could do about it now. I drove as quickly as I legally could down to the Venice Boardwalk and went up to the High Rooftop Lounge.

One of Sam’s men met me at the top of the stairs and nodded his head toward the far end of the building. Sam was pacing back and forth and looking very displeased. “I should have caught it,” he said angrily as soon as I arrived. “I should have caught it,” he repeated slamming his fist on a table.

“How bad?” I asked.

Sam shook his head and said quickly, “Not what you think. Walter’s on a plane to The Society’s prison as we speak. The hostages are at the safehouse. No casualties. No collateral damage.”

“Then what’s wrong?” I asked.

“The Blue Deuce,” he replied. “I didn’t make the connection until I actually saw that blue two of clubs in the night sky. That’s when it hit me.” He shook his head hard, like he was making some huge effort... or perhaps holding back a terrible pain. “Weston Monty used to run a private security firm called The Black Deuce.” He shook his head again. “Everybody was the black something back then. My firm was The Black Warriors.” His voice became unusually animated as he continued. “But the Black Deuce was the worst of the worst... every atrocity in the book. The Black Deuce used that exact same logo, except it was black. Weston was convicted of war crimes in absentia. Supposedly he died in an explosion escorting a convoy in Afghanistan, but men like us don’t die like that.”

I waited for him to continue, but when he remained silent, I said, “And...”

“He’s a cop now... he has to be... and he runs The Blue Deuce,” Sam spat out. “He and his brothers ended up as just numbers within the foster system... brother number one, brother number two, brother number three. Wes was brother number two... so he started calling himself ‘Deuce.’”

He was starting to wind down so I asked, “What do we do?”

“Is Boris still listening?” he asked quickly.

In response a voice chirped in my ear– and Sam’s, “I’m here. What do you need?”

“The Blue Deuce,” Sam said firmly and slowly, “has led a charmed life. Someone has been protecting it. Someone has squashed any investigation and warned Walter of any impending raids. That someone is a high-level cop and that someone is Weston Monty.”

A female voice in my earpiece said, “Running an AI algorithm on it now.”

“Thank you, Natasha,” I responded.

We all stood there silently for what seemed like forever, but was probably less than five minutes. Then Natasha said curtly, “Got it. Captain James Montgomery Reynolds. Weston Monty was almost adopted when he was in the foster system. The family who tried to adopt him was named Reynolds. The adoption was almost formalized. They even had a new birth certificate prepared under the name James, but then Weston abused his step sister in some fashion. Except for a notation in the adoption process records, nothing was done, but the adoption fell through. Weston must have used that birth certificate to create a new identity. With his experience– and his behind the scenes contacts– he quickly rose to the position of Captain in the LAPD.”

Sam looked at me and said slowly, “This one is mine.” His face would now definitely scare away tourists or paparazzi.

“Alive,” I said firmly.

“Don’t worry,” he answered. “Captain Reynolds will be on the next plane to the prison. Once the right people are made aware of who he really is, an acceptable cover story will be given to the press. But I’m taking this bastard down.”

Sam Two Feathers and his men then strode out of the lounge area. I wouldn’t want to be anyone who got in his way tonight. There was something very personal about Sam’s anger. I would have to ask him about it some day, but tonight was not the time.

“Four down, one to go,” Boris’ voice said in my earpiece.

I took a deep breath and replied, “I need to speak with Master Tyrone immediately. Where is he?”

“Sam thought it best to get everyone out of town,” Boris responded. “They are probably headed back east by now.”

“Make arrangements for Master Tyrone to meet me at Shangri-la Three,” I said. “Tell him that I know who the traitor is and it is time to bring the Inner Circle... and the Shadow Council together.”

“Master Robert and Mistress Aleana are still unaccounted for,” Boris said.

“I know,” I replied, “but with Wyatt, Walter and Weston gone, I think that Master Robert will reappear. Tell Master Tyrone that I am suggesting you begin arrangements for the Inner Circle to meet in town.”

“In town?” Boris sputtered. “Like in town, here?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Give me five days to drive back... no make that six. I have to stop in Vegas and arrange to have something shipped back from the storage vaults there. And Boris...”

“Yes?” he answered.

“I need locations for charging stations on my route back.”

He laughed and said, “Don’t fall asleep with it in autodrive mode. I don’t think you want to end up on YouTube.”

“Duly noted,” I replied. “Check Mister Guthrie out of the hotel. I will scrub the ID and retitle the car once I get back.”

“Consider it done,” Natasha responded. “Poopsie says to drive carefully.”

“I will,” I answered and walked down from the rooftop to retrieve my Mustang from the parking attendant. I figured I could get back to Vegas before morning and rest up before three-oneing it back to Shangri-la Three.

***