Healey snickered.
“We’ll need to test them but not tonight,” Crouch said. “First we need a plan that centers round getting in and finding that treasure without being spotted.”
“Steal it from under their noses?” Healey’s eyes shone with excitement.
Russo stole his thunder. “Steady on, kid. We can’t lug an entire treasure trove out on our backs.”
Crouch grinned. “Maybe we can. We got into this for the action and the adventure, right? Well, let’s have a little of both.”
“I’m up for it,” Healey declared.
“We sure have the edge on technology,” Caitlyn said with a touch of irony as she stared through the holes in the fence.
“This boundary.” Alicia generally indicated the fence that stretched as far as they could see. “Is it self-proclaimed?”
Boots stared uncomprehending.
“I mean, do they own the land?”
“I guess so. But who really knows? The government build these fences all over our state, and Arizona and Nevada. Pop up like newborns they do, hush hush secret. A private military base, a so-called research center. A black site. You know how many of them are out there? One day you can walk along a path, the next you’re told to turn back or get shot. They can do that. Should they be able to do that? I don’t think so.”
“Then what you’re saying is the High Desert Militia popped up out of nowhere a few years ago and nobody knows if they’re here legitimately?”
“That means,” Crouch pointed out. “That we wouldn’t be trespassing on private property if and when we cross that fence.”
“P’raps,” Boots agreed. “But ain’t nobody that’s bothered about it been tough enough to ask ‘em.”
Alicia turned to her team with a smile. “Well, my friend, that’s about to change.”
SEVENTEEN
The team wrestled with the problem all the way back to Kanab. How to distract a badly organized but well-armed militia? Crouch came up with the sensible suggestions — distractions or a raid; Healey came up with the thrilling ones — bombarding them with mortars. Russo jiggled his massive head from side to side, suggesting they send Alicia in to drive them crazy. Caitlyn offered a few high-tech alternatives but it turned out they had none of the equipment she required and local supplies weren’t as plentiful as they’d hoped.
In the end, it was Lex that fired Alicia’s imagination.
“We employ the bikers approach,” he said into a lull. “Works every time.”
“What?” Crouch half turned in his seat. “How?”
“Militia groups have more than their fair share of bikers in their ranks. For whatever reason.” He shrugged. “Some are in hiding. Others just wanted by the law.” He grinned at his own joke. “Of all new recruits or visitors, bikers are one of the most likely groups to be allowed inside.”
“So you’re suggesting you head on in there alone?” Russo grunted. “I don’t think so.”
“I have my jacket. My tats. I’m genuine. All we need to find is a good bike. Or two.” Lex eyed Alicia, raising both eyebrows.
Alicia’s grin held weight. “Now you’re talking. Trouble is, two of just ain’t a gang.”
“We could be a splinter group.”
Alicia bit her lip. “We’d need to sell it. A gang would sell it and escape without a scratch. Just the two of us? I’m not so sure.”
“If it helps there’s a biker bar restaurant in town.” Caitlyn held up her cellphone showing a search result. “It couldn’t hurt to try there.”
“Let me get this straight,” Crouch said. “You two are going to what? Rent a few bikes and a gang for the night? Shit, can you get any crazier?”
“Oh, Michael.” Alicia smiled quickly. “I’m just getting started.”
It took the rest of the night and part of the day after, but by late the next afternoon Lex’s plan was shaping up. The biker bar had turned out to be a diluted version of the real thing but Lex did find two bona fide articles, both wearing vests embroidered with various patches. The bikers called them their colors, and attached to them a mass of meanings.
“They good?” Alicia asked him.
“They sure ain’t waxers,” Lex said. “Let me double-check.”
“What’s a waxer, dare I ask?” Caitlyn wondered aloud as he walked away from their table.
Alicia watched him go. “Real bikers call weekend riders ‘waxers’. Riding isn’t their lifestyle. The furthest their bikes go is to the end of the driveway every weekend where it gets washed and waxed until it shines like the sun.”
The group watched Lex work for a while, coming clean with the bikers as much because they were his kin as to preserve their safety. After a while he beckoned Alicia over.
“This here’s Wrench. And this is Red Head.”
Alicia evaluated them. Wrench sported old scars and sunken eyes. A beard covered his lower jaw. The stare he gave her searched for expertise and she saw a hard, experienced brother hiding behind the gaze.
“Army?” she asked.
Wrench grunted. It was enough. Red Head was younger but no less tough or sharp. It was he that spoke first.
“Lex calls you Taz. How’d that come about?”
Alicia flinched. She’d almost forgotten the biker nickname. “Not something I really talk about,” she said. “Our boys didn’t make it… ”
She paused. Wrench put up a hand. “We heard. Don’t worry. Lex here says you two are all that’s left.”
“All that’s left running,” Alicia admitted.
“So who you running with?” Wrench indicated the team seated at a far table.
“Military group,” Alicia told them without hesitating. “Has Lex explained?”
Wrench nodded. “I’m always up for a blast at the militia. Red Head here though, he ain’t so on board.”
Alicia scrutinized the man. With short-cropped blond hair, a white complexion, and a fuzzy day-old growth it was hard to see the reason behind his nickname. Always a story, she thought. And most bikers liked to tell it.
“So, Red Head,” she said. “What’s the problem? And the name? You want to tell me how you came by that?”
“No real story,” he said. “It’s the flavor I prefer,” he smirked, “in women.”
Wrench chortled. “No story? ‘Course there’s a story. Red Head ain’t never been with any other kinda flavor. Blond, brunette, black hair — never. Gets himself very upset when a redhead turns out to be a fake — if you get my drift.”
“Wrench,” Red Head said warningly.
“Checks early on.” Wrench laughed. “Then sometimes storms off leaving the little lady a tad confused.”
Alicia turned to the annoyed biker. “I guess I’m safe then. Blond all the way, head to my toes.”
“Shit.” Wrench stared at her. “Now you’re in my head.”
“Wait till you see my leathers.”
Lex leaned into the discussion. “Did I say you’ll be well rewarded? That guy over there, the serious looking one, he’ll set you up for a month.”
“Sounds dangerous.” Red Head was staring at Alicia.
“Is there any other way?” she asked.
“Got a plan?”
“Never do. Always see what comes up first.”
Red Head shook his head. “All right, stop the flirting. Lex here had me at reward.”
“Flirting?” Alicia snickered. “I hadn’t even started.”
Wrench looked a little mortified, but quickly asserted his attendance. Alicia walked back to Crouch.
“Four bikers in total,” she said. “It will have to do.”
Crouch nodded at the others. “Let’s get ready.”
Alicia pulled on her tight leather pants, enjoying the feel of the soft leather easing up her bare legs. Since it wasn’t the most dignified of operations, especially when you got nearer the ass area, she elected to perform this one alone, in her hotel room. Once complete, she took a moment to walk over to the window, taking in the dying ball of the sun as it spread across the horizon.