Page 61 of Property of Rattler

“Odds are he will,” the enforcer tells him. “He’s already cut off a finger. He’s not afraid to get his hands bloody.”

“Prez?” I raise my chin toward Genie to let him know he can speak. “Why don’t you call him, explain the situation. We can record the call and try and see if there are any clues that give away his location.” He turns his eyes to Saint. “I know Pippa’s got her hands full but I could really use her expertise right now.”

Saint gives a sharp nod and offers a simple, “She’ll help.” Then he adds with a quirk to his mouth, “I value my balls too much to keep her out.”

The situation is so serious that no one laughs. But in the short period of silence that follows, I think we’re automatically waiting for Rat to interrupt with something to the tune of Saint handed over his genitals when he got married. Of course, he’s not here to lighten the situation.

“Saint, can you get Pippa and bring her into church?”

“Trix is still here. She can go babysit Jade. I’ll get one of the club girls to go sit with Ames.”

After nodding his thanks to Freak for the suggestion, Saint gets up and leaves. It’s one of our rules that we always leave our phones outside and never bring them into church. The only exception is mine, and even then, I power it down. You never know who might try to hack into it and use it as a listening device. Paranoid? Yeah, but it keeps us free and breathing.

While the VP’s gone, no one’s in the mood to make light conversation. Piston leaves his seat, comes to the top of the table, and stares at the bloody digit, taking a closer look. He doesn’t let on what he’s thinking, just gives a shake of his head and goes back to his chair.

One of the benefits of Saint having built a house on the compound is that he’s back within minutes, bringing Pippa with him. She looks like she’s just rolled out of bed. Her hair’s sticking up, and while no one’s stupid enough to point it out, her t-shirt’s on inside out. The VP pulls her down onto his lap.

“Saint quickly updated me.” Pippa doesn’t wait to be asked for her contribution. “I’ve got an idea. We need to get tracking software downloaded onto his phone so we can trace where he is.”

Stalker snorts. “Then, we, what? Ask him if he doesn’t mind loading a program?”

Even I cringe at the death stare she turns on the treasurer, while he slides down into his seat as if wishing he could disappear under the table.

Genie, to the contrary, sits up straighter. “You mean send him a Trojan?” He shakes his head. “He runs his own tech company, we found that out when we looked into him.”

Pippa raises her chin. “Yeah, it will have to be something that sneaks in under any anti-virus protection he’s got set up.” Then she adds quite matter-of-factly, with no pride in her skills. “I’m sure I can knock something out in a couple of hours.”

“But we’ve still got to get him to open a message up and click on a link.” Genie frowns as he voices the problem.

“Send him the link to some nudes,” Woody suggests. “I’d click on that.”

Unfortunately, he’s sitting next to our tech expert, who backhands him around the head. “You better fuckin’ not,” Genie growls.

Woody doesn’t know when to shut up, but does try to redeem himself. “Send him a message saying he’s had a big win on the lottery. Make it official-looking. Who wouldn’t click on that?”

Nobody answers.

Genie’s gone a strange shade of red. In a voice barely containing his anger, he snarls, “You give your fuckin’ phone to me right after this meeting.”

In a deceptively gentle voice, Pippa informs Woody, “You know.” She starts casually, “It’s exactly the type of ploy the Fedswould use. Send a text or email that an idiot is sure to open. Then get into everything stored on your phone.”

In direct opposition to Genie, Woody pales. “Fuck. What should I do? Drop my phone into some bleach or something?”

“Just give it to me,” Genie repeats through gritted teeth.

Tempest, who’d seemed to zone out for a moment, suddenly slaps the table. “I got it. Something that would definitely make him click.” He doesn’t keep us waiting, just gets straight into it. “We tell him we want Rat back, and we’re prepared to exchange him for Ames. Make him believe that Rat had the hots for her, and that she’s nothing to do with the Kings.” He shrugs. “Should be easy for him to believe, as it was only them at the cabin.” When I narrow my eyes, he finishes with, “Set up a meet for the exchange and send him the pin for the location.”

I notice Pippa’s eyes spark, but Freak isn’t on board. “Don’t like that idea, Brother,” he states. “Not sending that girl to Stone. Pretty sure Rat wouldn’t want that. And if we want to come down to basics, we’re sending a potential cool five million that could be in the club’s coffers back with her.”

Pippa leans over and fixes her eyes on Freak. “I hear you, but she doesn’t even need to be at the location. Or anyone. We won’t be at the meet. We just need him to click the link for the pin, then we’ll upload the software and we'll be able to track him. We’ll go in guns blazing, get Rat back before the meet takes place. Knowing where he is will mean we can go on the offensive, not the defensive, and solve Ames’s problems for good.”

There’s silence for a moment. It’s up to me to break it. “Right, unless anyone objects, it looks like we’ve got a plan. I’ll call Stone now, and Pippa…”

“I’ll start work on the Trojan.”

“You want me here, Prez?”

“Nah, Genie. You go with Pippa and get started on your magic.” And to me, some kind of sorcery it is. But then, as prez,I don’t have to know how to do everything myself. I use the expertise wherever I can find it. Everyone here brings something to the party, which is why we make such a good team.