CHAPTER 1

At dusk, I found myself leaning against a county ownedHarley Davidson, which had been confiscated during adrug bust, waiting on a guy named Gonzo in the nearlyempty parking lot of the Sub Tavern. Sheriff James had donecompletely the opposite of what I thought he would do. Insteadof relieving me of my undercover duties, he threw me headlongback into them. He explained that there was an actual war goingon between two gangs for exclusive control of the Mansfieldarea. One gang was made up of soldiers from the Vintessa family,out of Chicago. This is the group that Skate, Charlie, and Eddieworked for. The other warring family was out of Atlanta and isnamed Rollo. The Tessas have controlled the I-71, I-77, and I-75corridors, the main north-south arteries through Ohio, for years.The Rollo family is trying to start their takeover with I-71, whichgoes right through Mansfield and right into my jurisdiction.Their plan is to use a biker gang for distribution. That's whyI'm stuck out here on a Wednesday night waiting on some guynamed Gonzo. He is one of the heavies in a motorcycle clubcalled the New Sons, being courted by the Rollos.

It hasn't been all that hard for me to infiltrate their group.I had contacts from being undercover and was able to hookthem up with drugs. After that, all I really had to do was hitthe weights, be available, and be patient. Sure, I had to hang outat the right biker spots, which thankfully we're located outsideof Lexington, and more into the heart of Mansfield. Not thatanyone would, but could not afford to be recognized as a deputyofficer, by anyone. While wading, I thought about how quickeverything changed for me. Originally, I was perfectly happypatrolling the small towns and villages around Mansfield, thenwhen my partner, Laura, got pregnant and subsequently left theforce, I became someone looking for new challenges. I foundsatisfaction when I solved a cold case or busted some drug dealerby infiltrating his operation. My boss recognized this and startedgiving me more commendations and moving me up in rank,with each of my professional successes. I also found it satisfyingthat the higher-ups have taken notice to what I am doing. Iguess when I think about it and take the words, "to protect andserve" literally, I am doing the most good for the public righthere. But sometimes, honestly, I would like to be at home withmy girlfriend Lisa, on a weeknight, just hanging out. I changedmy mind's focus from my personal thoughts about my job tothe black Harley Davidson, being ridden by an overweight,stereo typical long-haired man with the graybeard coming in mydirection; this guy had to be Gonzo.

Not wanting to look to eager, I remained motionless, withmy arms folded and my sunglasses on as he rode by once to checkme out, and then back to me again. I have learned that one of themost, if not the most important thing about undercover work,is your cover story. Sharon, the boss's secretary had set me upwith a good one. My name is to be David Bosco. I stayed in theMansfield area after bouncing around the Ohio prison system fordrug trafficking. I supposedly had grown up in Georgia, whichfits perfectly with the Rollo family connection. Personally, I'vefound it amazing how much a different hairstyle and attitudechanges people's perceptions of you. I could walk by most peoplethat I grew up with and they would either not recognize me, orlook away because of intimidation. Gonzo did neither and afterparking his bike, walked directly towards me.

"Are you Bosco," he said, in the gravelly voice, lighting up acigarette.

"That depends," I answered, removing my black sunglasses.

Looking around me, at my bike, Gonzo said,

"That looks like Spider's old bike, did you steal it?"

Knowing the history of the motorcycle that you are ridingis very important to these guys and I was aware of the properprotocol and the history of the bike. I was trying to earn theirtrust, and to do that, I had to know every detail of the othergang members.

"No, I didn't steal it, but after he died in the Mansfield prison,I figured he wouldn't be using it, so I bought it from the auction."

"It shows respect that you waited until he died to do that,"Gonzo said, throwing his smoke out and stepping on it, beforelaughing and saying,

"I never really liked Spider all that much anyhow, but rulesare rules and I'm glad you followed them. Let's go inside andcrush a couple, then maybe we can talk some business."

The Sub Tavern was a small, redneck place, just off ParkAvenue, going out of Mansfield towards Madison. Unlike mostof the bars around, this place's clientele seemed to change all thetime. As I stayed undercover longer, it was obvious that peopleeither got killed or busted, or their wives stop letting them come,so there were long gaps between their visits. This is strangebecause in Mansfield you usually see the same people at the samebars forever. The two of us strode into the bar like we owned theplace. Some looked at us, but only briefly and then went back totheir drinks, or their pool game. The bartender looked like shewas probably pretty attractive twenty years ago, but now showedsigns of hard living, but that didn't keep her from the dressinglike she did twenty years ago. She took one look at Gonzo andsquealed,

"Hey baby, where have you been?"

"I've been around," was all he answered, as he took the twobottles of Budweiser from her and led me to a secluded table.

One of the things that I have had to learn going undercoverwas that you only spoke when you were spoken to. If you aretoo outgoing and friendly in this job, they will pick up on it realquick and figure you for a snitch. I sat back and sipped my beerand let Gonzo do most of the talking.

"That broad at the bar, used to hang out with the New Sonsall the time. She was a lot of fun, for a while. She was even myold lady once," Gonzo recalled as he drank. "I caught her at arally one time screwing Spider, and that was the end of that."

"That's why you didn't like Spider?" I asked, taking in largeswig of my beer.

Gonzo looked at me, confused, then I asked,

"You've never been with the club before have you Bosco?"

Realizing from his question that I had said something wrong,I backpedaled by answering,

"I've always been an independent. You know, rioting andlooking out only for number one."

The bartender came over and brought two shots of whiskeyand set them down, while she blew a kiss to Gonzo. We raisedour glasses, as Gonzo proclaimed,

"To the brotherhood," while we knocked them back.

"You'll find out when you ride with us that brotherhood isall that matters. There are a lot of bad things out there and yourbrothers will help you stay clear of it. I can go anywhere in thecountry and as soon as they see my colors, they know what kindof dude I am. They know I'm someone that is just one part of abigger thing, and nothing or nobody is going to stand in the wayof the brotherhood."

"That includes chicks," I asked finishing my beer.

Gonzo leaned in close to me and said,

"Especially chicks, no matter how much good head she givesyou!"

We both laughed heartily, like a couple of pirates, as shebrought us another round. This male bonding was fine, but I didwant to get around to talking about moving some drugs. I saidnothing, however, waiting for him to bring it up. After anothershot, Gonzo got up from the table and played a Stones song onthe jukebox, I smiled at the aging biker, but kept from laughingas he played air guitar on his hip and shouted,

"Turn it up, God damn it!"

No one said anything as the barmaid increased the volume toa substantial level. Gonzo danced slightly on his way back to thetable with two more beers. He sat down and it became obviousto me why he wanted the music turned up. He leaned in and litanother smoke and asked in a low voice,

"How much weight are you looking to move?"

"Let's just say I have access enough to keep all of the brothersbusy for a long time," I answered.

"They're not your brothers yet, but I like you, Bosco. We'rehaving a ride and a party on Saturday, through the hills ofMohican. Consider yourself invited, and why don't you bringenough party favors for about thirty people. It will give us achance to check you and your stuff out. Do you have an oldlady?"

"No, it just me," I answered as the songs switched.

Gonzo waded into the music started again, then said,

"Don't worry about it, they'll be plenty of pussy there."Laughing, he added,

"But stay away from that broad behind the bar, she's usedgoods."

"Because you've had her?" I innocently asked, causing Gonzoto almost choke on his beer, while he answered,

"No because she was fooling around when she was my oldlady, so I passed her around to all the brothers and now none ofus will touch her. That should include you, my friend, stay awayfrom her, she's poison."

I waited until Gonzo finished his beer and it looked likewe were ready to take off. We walked out the door towards ourbikes, and I thanked him for meeting with me and buying thedrinks. He smiled and looked back towards the bar saying,

"I didn't buy anything, she never asked me for any money."

We left and I held my hand up to shake his. He clamped onmine and then looked surprised at what I had slipped into his palm.

"What's this?" he asked as I started my bike.

"It's a free sample to say thanks," I answered revving up the1300 that I sat across. "I'll be there Saturday around noon."

I took off towards Mansfield, just in case anyone waswatching. Once I was sure that I was alone, I changed directionand headed home.

Heading south on Route 13, I found myself fitting intothe role of the biker. I kicked back, put up my highway pegsand cruised past the gas stations and McDonald's, away fromthe everyday distractions towards my secluded home. Thisassignment, I knew, was going to limit the amount of time that Icould spend at home. Living the life, as they say, of a club bikerwill force me to spend more time at my cover house, which isan apartment, in town. The place was set up by Sharon, just likemy cover story. I guess that to fit in, I have to show that I'm notreally tied down to any place for anybody. Those thoughts andmore were rolling through my mind over the roar of the bike,mostly, how to explain things to Lisa.

For all intents and purposes, the two of us have been livingtogether since her father passed away. Her dad, Mike Henson,was my inspiration to become a deputy. Lisa and I met whilehe was in a home care for his Alzheimer's disease. The two ofus have hit it off beautifully and have been dating for over twoand a half years. We have plans to get married, but both of usare so busy with work that when we get time to spend together,all we do is enjoy it. I guess that's a little immature on my part,because if something were to happen to me, in my job, I wanther to be taken care of. Again, that's not something we discuss,but we are working towards it. She sold her house, in Lexington,when I started working undercover. She kept it at first; to see ifwe could successfully live together, before getting married. Thatlasted about two months and we both knew that we would befine, so we just moved her stuff into my place.

I shut the bike off and coasted down my driveway, to mystorage shed. I walked into the house and there she was. Lisawas the only woman that I'd ever met, who was just as beautifulwhen she was dressed casual, in sweats and a T-shirt, and she wasdressed up. Even after a couple of years of being together, I stillcatch myself looking at her perfect body and her sexy smile, whenshe doesn't expect it. Like me, she has let her brown hair growto almost shoulder length. It was almost like a contest betweenus; when I was growing my hair for this undercover role, shebeats me and I don't mind because it looks terrific on her and Ithink kind of silly on me. We went through our evening routine,which I enjoyed more than usual, because I knew that over thenext months, nights like this would be few and far between.

We went to bed, talking about what I was about to do. Ididn't reveal any secrets about the case, but I wanted her to beaware for her safety. She laid with her head on my chest, softlyrubbing my stomach, as we paid little attention to the baseballgame on TV.

"How long are you going to have to stay at that littleapartment?" she asked, with a tone of disappointment in her voice.

I answered, while gently rubbing the small of her back andthe firm but soft skin of her buns,

"I'm not really sure. I have to attend a motorcycle rally onSaturday and then who knows. Hopefully, everything goessmoothly and they will start courting me to join the club."

"I've seen stories about how those women do their courtingand I'm not sure that's right for you," she said jealously.

I pulled her shoulder back, so that I could look into her hazeleyes and teased her,

"Are you worried about some of those biker chicks?"

"Hell yes I am," she said emphatically, "they all seem prettyeager to accommodate, if you know what I mean."

As strange as it might sound, I hadn't given the women asecond thought, but I knew she needed to hear that.

"You do realize that I love you, right?"

"Well, yes and I love you too, but—"

I didn't let her finish and just began kissing her. Both of usknew how we felt and trusted what went with those feelings.

"I could be a biker chick," Lisa joked, getting up on herknees and stimulating holding the handle bars out in front of herand making noises. She continued by saying,

"Hey boys look at these! Do you want to ride me?"

"Stop it," I said pulling her back down to the bed.

We began laughing and wrestling around, by the light of theTV only. Our kissing became more passionate and our playfulwrestling moves turned much sexier, as we shifted our attentionto the one thing we knew that we both needed and we neededmore than you could measure. It was the best sex that we hadhad since her father had died. Our encounters since that eventwere good, but not like tonight. Each of us had an enthusiasmand lack of apprehension that made our romp raw and loving atthe same time. I guess we both wanted to prove that we were theperfect fit for each other. I also got the feeling that both of uswanted the other to remember this, in case it was a while beforewe get to do it again.

I was wrong about not being able to be together for a while,because Lisa took the next day off from work and we spent theentire day together. We continued rolling in bed, and in thehot tub, and anywhere else we saw fit. But that wasn't the bestpart of the day, it was a close second; but just getting to spenduninterrupted time with her—no distractions, no cell phones,and no work at all—was wonderful, and I felt it rekindled somepassion that the stress from work and its routine steals from you.Friday morning came much too fast for both of us, as I walkedher to her car in the morning. I leaned down to kiss her goodbye,saying,

"I'll call you when I can, I promise."

"You better and you're welcome to come back to your houseanytime you want," she joked forcing a smile.

"I'm doing this to protect you, I don't want it to turn outlike last time," I said, referring to when she was taken hostage byEddie's friends, when I was working on that old case.

"I don't want that either, because even though you're sexy ashell, with your long hair and motorcycle dude attitude, I don'tthink I could stand having a living room full of those people,because the ones I've seen don't look anywhere near as good asyou."

I kissed and hugged her hard, telling her that I loved her, andshe started to get into her car and I started walking to my bike,to load my stuff in the saddle bags. Before I got there, I heardLisa whistle and yell,

"Hey Bosco, keep in mind this is what a good one looks like!"

With that, she turned around and pulled up her skirt,showing me her perfect ass. I was already in full "biker mode,"as I howled,

"Yeah baby, take it off!"

Lisa smiled as she pulled down her skirt, waved and droveaway. I continued packing my saddlebags, mostly with T-shirtsand jeans, and the dope. I knew that the apartment was alreadystocked with towels and sheets, so I didn't need much. I tooka look around my place, kind of taking a mental picture ofeverything. It's not like I was going away for a year or anything,and I knew Lisa would take care of the place, but I guess I justwanted to take another long look around. After that, I fired upthe bike and headed towards my apartment.