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Fiona
The DEA cleaned house.
They arrested every single member of the Midnight Riders present that night. They waged a gun battle with the Santa Muertes where a third of the gang died – including Rodrigo – before the rest of them gave up. And every single Richards police officer was put in cuffs. At least the cops were smart enough not to open fire on a federal agency.
But the aftermath was hell on earth. Every ambulance in Richards was there at the gasworks, trying to save any Santa Muertes who had been stupid enough to fight back. Dozens of cops were on their knees, hands bound behind their backs. Forensics experts were working the scene, taking photographs of Lou and every other corpse. The DEA was like an invading army, with 80 agents throwing bikers into van after van, even going so far as to commandeer the Richards police cars to transport them.
The ambulance medics had more important things to worry about than Jack’s hands, but I managed to finagle some supplies to clean and bandage him up.
“Hhh,” he hissed as I doused his bleeding knuckles with rubbing alcohol.
“Aaaah, suck it up, you big pansy,” Sid said.
My boss had managed to avoid being shot when the DEA found him, and they’d brought him back over to us on Fordham’s orders.
Jack held up his swollen hands. “Watch your mouth, or I might have to bash them up a little more,” he said good-naturedly.
“Betcha wish you’d let me take him out when I had the chance,” Sid said.
Jack looked down at his fists. “No… no, I’m fine with how it went down.”
“You better pray I am,” Fordham said as he strolled up.
“Are you?” Jack asked.
Fordham shrugged. “We got enough to put everybody away for a couple decades, at least. So… yeah. I’m fine.”
“Are you going to be able to charge the cops?” I asked. “Even though Lou killed Dan Peters?”
Fordham chuckled. “Oh, you should hear ‘em – they’re already squealing. Every other guy wants to cut a deal. ‘I was just following orders!’ Guess they didn’t hear how that worked out at Nuremberg.”
“What about the Riders?” Jack asked, his voice betraying the tiniest bit of hope.
Fordham gestured like What can I do? “If they were out there tonight, they were knowingly participating in a massive drug deal. Nothin’ I can do now. It’s in the Attorney General’s hands whether or not they get prosecuted. Spoiler alert – they’re gonna get prosecuted.”
Jack looked off grimly into the distance. “Great.”
I touched his shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”
“Mm,” he grunted.
“Ya live by the sword, ya get fucked by the sword,” Sid said.
“Which every asshole here tonight absolutely did,” Fordham agreed.
“What about us?” Sid asked. “We gonna get fucked, too?”
“You’re a Marine, aren’t you? No way I fuck over a fellow jarhead. As far as I’m concerned, you guys delivered. We’re good.”
“But everybody’s dead,” I pointed out. “Lou, Dan Peters, Rodrigo – ”
“Them being alive was never a condition of the deal,” Fordham said. “Stick around so we can get your statements, but after that, you’re free to go… but don’t go too far. There’s gonna be a lot of people who want to talk to you, but it should only last a couple of days. Then you’re free, period.”
With that, Fordham walked off into the throng of bustling DEA agents.
“I like that guy,” Sid muttered under his breath.
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