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Dean pulled the trigger, and Ave stumbled backward into the wall. As he slid down, blood coated the dull gray paint. He ended up in a heap in a sitting position against the wall. He clutched his chest and gurgled, then his eyes closed.
“What the hell is going on!” Gage shouted from the back as he charged toward them. “Ave!”
Dean discharged the gun again, and Gage fell to the floor, blood pooling beneath him.
Cal looked at Dean, apparently was surprised that he had pulled the trigger. Dean walked into the storage room and crouched down to set his fingers against Ave’s neck. Nothing. “He’s dead,” Dean said.
Cal went inside and checked. Satisfied, he rose. “That Marine had it coming, too. He broke Bear’s jaw. Let’s get out of here.”
They left the garage through the office. Tubby already had the Shadow on the trailer. He was on the other side of the truck when Ophelia shouted in his earpiece.
“Dean, watch out! Tubby has a gun!”
Dean stopped, and before Cal could react, Dean got him into a headlock. Tubby came from behind the truck and started shooting.
Cal cried out and went down, but Dean had already pulled Cal’s weapon from his waistband. Tubby looked at Cal, his face contorting when he realized his mistake. Before he could get another round off, Dean plugged him right between the eyes.
He rushed over to Tubby and kicked away the gun. There was no need, Tubby was gone, but Dean never took chances. “You were always the weakest link,” he murmured.
Ophelia, Logan, and Jessica moved across the lot with their guns drawn. When it was evident that there was no more threat, they holstered them.
“Well, this was a freaking goatfuck,” Dean said.
“What are we going to do now?” Logan asked as Gage and Ave came out of the garage, fake blood and all, and very much alive.
Dean stood there for a moment. He couldn’t have foreseen they would double-cross him and take him out. He wasn’t sure if it had been Dos’s idea, but he was almost sure it had been Cal’s. He feared Dean’s in with The Black Hearts. He could try to spin it, but he guessed that Dos wouldn’t be too receptive to the man who had killed two of his lieutenants. And it was still possible that Dos had ordered his buddies to get rid of him. There was only one alternative that was going to have any chance of success.
“We have no choice. We arrest Roach and Dos and interrogate them. We have to hope they cooperate.”
“Or we’re royally screwed,” Logan said.
Dean looked at O, and she nodded. Standing close to him, she got on the phone to her commander and made the request for backup. Walking into The Black Heart’s clubhouse to arrest their leader and remaining lieutenant wasn’t going to go over well.
She touched his arm. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” he said, giving her a smile to reassure her. “This wasn’t the plan, but we always say in the SEALs no matter how well you plan something, it’s always different when you actually execute it. But all of this doesn’t matter. Right now, it’s just us and the enemy. We have another shot at this.”
They piled into the van, Ave along with them. Dean worried he wasn’t safe from The Black Hearts, and it was best to give him some protection. His family had already flown to stay with his wife’s relatives to keep them safe. He figured he could put him up at the shop. With the new security, it was like Fort Knox.
Gage was going to stay with him. After dropping them off, Jessica, Ophelia, and Dean went back to the clubhouse. When he walked in the door with SWAT backup, Dos rose quickly from the table, the surprise on his face telling Dean that he had ordered the hit on him.
Dos lunged at him, catching him in the jaw, but Dean recovered and punched him back, sending him reeling into Roach who was reaching for his gun. He knocked the man down and Dean rushed over and stepped on his wrist.
The two of them were then hauled up and put into handcuffs, both swearing a blue streak as they were dragged out of the clubhouse.
Back at Metro, Dean looked at Dos, his hands cuffed to the metal bar on the table, a sullen look on his face.
“He doesn’t look very cooperative,” O said, now dressed in her uniform.
“We’ll see,” Dean said. “Let’s go.”
They entered the room and Dos’s eyes narrowed when he saw “his old lady” wearing a SWAT uniform.
“Where are Cal and Tubby?” he demanded, rattling his cuffs in anger.
“In the morgue,” Dean said, sitting down in the chair across from him.
His face contorted in rage. “You are a backstabbing son of a bitch. Your dad’s rolling in his grave in disgust.”
