Free Honor Unraveled by Elaine Levine

conditioned. And though all the windows were open, the stench of sweat, beer, and urine was heavy in the crowded space.
    No one announced him, but the bar grew silent and still when he entered. He sent an assessing glare around the room through the cover of his sunglasses, broadcasting what he saw back to Greer. The men were generally taller than average. Several of them sported thick paunches. All of them had dead eyes. They had seen and done things that put them well below the line of humanity. They’d gravitated toward the WKB because there was nowhere else a pack of jackals could live. East and west, it was all the same.
    In every clubhouse, there was one prime sitting area. In the back, with line of sight to the whole space and an exit nearby. This one was occupied. Max made his way toward the back booth. One of the hang-arounds came over to greet him. Or block him. When he opened his mouth to speak, Max put his fist in it, dropping him to his knees.
    He continued on to the back booth, only to be challenged by a prospect. Pete had his guard around him. Interesting. Max stared at the gangbanger, giving him all of three seconds to fold or throw.  
    “Stand-down, Pike. Mad Dog’s our guest,” Pete ordered. He pushed the others out of the booth and invited Max to join him, sending one of the hang-arounds to fetch a couple of beers for them.  
    “Didn’t know you were back,” Pete told him.
    Max nodded. “Got a month’s reprieve before I have to pull more duty up North. Not an easy thing to do in prime fishing season. What the fuck’s goin’ on here?”
    “Holbrook got himself killed, shot in the chest.”
    “Yeah? Where were you? You’re his second; you shoulda taken that bullet for him.”
    The kid came back with the beers, then took his place standing a few feet away, pulling bouncer duty. “Holbrook was taking care of personal business that night. It had nothing to do with the WKB.”
    “That’s not what I heard. They’re saying he took a crew from here to do it. That makes it club business.”
    Pete nodded at him. “Let’s take a walk.” They left the booth and went toward the back door. One of the hang-arounds opened it for them. Max did a slow sweep of the grounds, giving the guys back in Wolf Creek Bend some good visuals. Dozens of tents were pitched in a distant field, in every size, shape, and color. He knew the ground layout from the satellite images they’d collected of the compound. To the left was the long barracks for the boy soldiers Blade had seen. To the right, an adult barracks. In the far distance, were a few large warehouses.
    They’d loaded Rodeo’s horse trailer with heroin from one of those warehouses.  
    “Start talkin’, Pete.”
    “King wanted Holbrook to clean up some old problems.”
    King again. Who the hell was he? “So he sent him to take down a bunch of Feds? Is he fucking crazy?”
    “The Feds are new to the area and don’t know how things work yet. They needed schoolin’.”
    “Yeah. Or King sent Holbrook to his execution.” Max sipped his beer as they walked. “What’s King’s plan?”
    “He’s been quiet.” Pete shrugged. “I guess he’s letting this play out.”
    Max looked at Pete. “You ever meet King? He one of us? Or is he on the outside?”
    “No one’s met him. He knows things, though. About all of us, what we’re doing.”
    “And that’s okay with you? Doing whatever some ghost wants you to do? Being his puppet?”
    Pete stopped walking and gave Max a narrow-eyed stare. “What are you saying?”
    “If you want me to vote for you, I need to know what you’re gonna to do about King. From the way I see it, he’s the real leader of the western region, maybe of the whole club. Don’t see why we need you since we have him.” Max finished his beer, then tossed it in a barrel trashcan over by the back of the clubhouse. “And I ain’t the only one who’s gonna ask that question.”

    * * *

    Kit was standing with the guys, watching