Desert Vengeance 6

One hundred and forty one Harleys riding full bore down Interstate 17 was enough to make even the most stout hearted trucker pull his rig over onto the highways shoulder and stop.

The close formation and intense speed made it clear these riders had a purpose and they were pissed.

A rolling, rumbling mass of thunderous sound reverberated clear into the valley below.

Buildings shook, the occupants peered out windows and seeing the oncoming horde quickly closed the blinds and locked the doors.

Not understanding the purpose, no one wanted to be the reason for this groups arrival.

Pop, leading the pack, headed straight onto the off-ramp for Grand Avenue.

At speeds almost seeming to defy physics. The parade of angry snarling bikes rolled through town. Streets full of activity just moments before were devoid of any signs of life. Air raid sirens have never been known to be this effective.

Turning onto Camelback road from Grand Avenue The pack gained speed. Seeing the sign for the Panama Red bar. Pop raised his arm and made a circular motion. The military precision in which the bikers encircled the building would have made a West point drill team seem disorganized.

As one, the riders placed the bikes on their side stands, killed the ignitions and dismounted. The abrupt silence amplified the still reverberating echoes shuddering across the valley.

Local clergy hiding behind the doors of their churches hastily checked the big book's passages on the Apocalypse. Checking to see if perhaps they had misread it, just in case it was one hundred and forty, not four. Judgement day must have certainly arrived.

And for some. It had.

Animal heard a shot. Before his ears could tell him the direction of the sound, his eyes watched the gunman's upper body explode onto the walls of the tavern.

A second blast tossed the gunman's accomplice clear over the upturned table. The look of surprise frozen forever in his eyes.

Animal looked to the direction of the sound having regained his sense of direction. Oracle was standing at the bar with a shit eating grin, holding a duffel bag in one hand and a sawed-off shotgun in the other.

Oracle laughed and said, "They made a helluva motorcycle back in nineteen fifteen and they make some damn fine guns too." referring to the Iver Johnson shotgun.

Tossing the duffel bag over to Animal he continued, "Those two idiots were sent to take you out? They could have sent Abbot and Costello and they wouldn't have been as sloppy."

"Sloppy or not, had you not been here they might have succeeded," replied Animal.

"I doubt that dumb shit could've aimed well enough to hit you. Shit, he got Henderson in the leg. Not exactly a marksman."

"Still I owe you one."

"Yeah and for the times in ninety five and ninety eight. But then lest we forget the times in ninety one, two and four where you saved my ass. But who's counting?"

Looking over at Henderson, Animal wasn't really surprised to see him sitting upright in the doorway casually smoking a cigar. One hand holding a tablecloth over the bullet wound in his thigh.

"I don't know if I should even ask. You OK?" asked Animal

"Sure why wouldn't I be" replied Henderson.

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps the sudden ventilation of your leg?"

"This?" pointing to the hole in his pants leg. "I've gotten worse being bitten by a horsefly."

"Remind me never to go to your ranch." Chuckled Animal.

The tavern walls started to vibrate with a slow but steady capacony. The wooden floorboards creaked aganst each other spraying up dust plumes. Animal could hear the sound encircle the tavern and suddenly fall silent.

Oracle spoke up "The Cavalry's here, just in time, too" he laughed.

Animal, seeing Pop enter the doorway chimed in, "Hey Custer, too many Indians on the way here?"

Pop holding up a one fingered salute smiled and said. "Jack in the Box was having a lunch special today. We didn't feel the need to be in any real hurry. After all, it's just you three."

Henderson grinning replied, "Hey, don't bunch me in with this scooter trash. I'm a talented kinda guy, I'm worth saving. Can't say the same for this cretin," pointing a finger at Animal.

"Cretin? For a guy two barely evolutionary steps above primordial soup you should talk."

Marduk hearing the banter back and forth said, "Look if you idiots don't knock it off. I'll take your bikes and lock'em away for a week."

Oracle,Pop, Henderson and Animal replied almost as one "That's harsh Bro!"

"Hey I'll do what I gotta do and Henderson, stop bleeding all over the damn floor. This is a respectable joint."

Henderson lifted his leg saying "I've heard this place called many things...but respectable? I gotta look up the Websters meaning of that word because I must have got it wrong."

Oracle looked around the bar that was rapidly filling up with thirsty bikers and asked, "Before you get to tilting back the brew, anybody want to tell me if anyone figured out what that hell is going on yet?"

"Pop's got a theory." said Marduk, flipping his thumb back at him.

"Me? I wasn't the one who came up with it," waving is arm in a sweep, "it was those two. Digger and Springer."

"Well then out with it." said Oracle.

Springer proceeded to bring Animal, Henderson and Oracle up to date. Animal looked over at Digger, "All the possible outcomes and you still got that damn knack for getting close to the truth."

"You mean I was right?"

"Damn close. Since it's out among this brotherhood and I know it''ll never leave this group I'll tell you what I know."

"It all started with an ancient culture called the Toltec's. They wrote a codex that has yet to be completely deciphered. The scientists were able to gather this bit of information from them. Dec 24 2011 is believed to be universally accepted as the doomsday date in Mayan calenders. This is fairly common knowledge. But what the scientists figured out was, it's not an ending but a beginning. And if it comes to pass, shit's gonna hit the fan."

Desert Vengeance 5

"Marduk! You old goat I see you brought some friends with you. You need 'em to hold your date steady? Those hiefer's sure can run." chuckled Pop.

"Goat?" Marduk laughed ."This from a man who grabs his dick to take a leak with three fingers...and pisses on two? Shit, I didn't bring' em. As soon as the news went out that Animal was a suspect in a federal treason case they all showed up here on their own. There's not a man here who would consider it even a possibility."

Pop glanced around the circle of men. Some faces he hadn't seen in years.
Others had lived under his roof at various points in their lives. Some had stood with Animal in dense jungles and foreboding forests fighting for their country with extreme honor. Animal had saved the lives of a few of these hardened men. And several had saved his.

Seeing the respect earned of the son he raised left Pop at a rare loss for words.

Kathy aware this was a extraordinary event stood quietly watching.

"I still have contacts in the various agencies involved in this case. This is what I know so far. The stolen file has to do with the last mission Animal and and a few of us here today had worked together. It was called Mayan dawn. We were ordered to recover two professors and some crates from the ruins of a dilapidated warehouse near Peurto Penasco Mexico. We weren't allowed to inquire as to what was in the crates or even talk to the men. It was a straight forward in and out extraction," said Marduk.

"An entire team to recover two geeks and a copula crates..in Mexico? There's something wrong with that picture," replied Pop.

"All I know is that the crates were covered and the professors didn't say a word. The only thing out of the ordinary was the fact that Animal and Tank received orders to load the crates separately from the team."

"Tank? Didn't he muster out just after that mission?"

"Yes, when we reached the base stateside he kept to himself. He didn't re-enlist and never kept contact. A few of the guys tried reaching him but it was as if he dropped off the face of the earth. Nobody's seen or heard from Tank in years."

"I remember that mission. Animal wouldn't talk about it and seemed to get pissed off if it was even brought up. I could tell from the way he was acting when he got back, something shook the living shit out of him."

"We are never allowed to discuss missions even amongst ourselves. But even at that, this one was different. They didn't debrief us afterwards. No one ever even referred to that day after it was completed."

"Well, today that changes. We need to discuss that mission here and now. We've gotta piece together what the hell is going on."

Marduk gathered the four men who served with Animal on Mayan dawn. Walking to the rear of the clearing they stood in a circle. Each man fully aware of the consequences of breaking their solemn oath of silence.

Five men thought as one.

Not a word was spoken between them. None were needed. After years of serving together in all corners of the globe, each man knew the measure of the other. With a simple nod of assent they all walked back to the table and sat with Pop.

'Digger' having earned his moniker by always having the ability to quickly figure the bare bones of a mission, spoke first. His instincts were legend.
"Whatever it was that Animal and Tank saw that day had to be an abrupt change in a spiritual way or a relevant change in accepted history. I can't think of any other instance that would affect two battle hardened men like that. Both have seen greed and atrocities too numerous for them to be affected like they were. For the kind of life changing reaction they showed I'd put money that it was a combination of the two."

" I agree," said Springer, "but considering that Animal is less religious than Tank and the fact that Tank changed virtually overnight I'd also say it has to be something along the lines of rewriting accepted beliefs about our origins."

"What the hell could do that, in the middle of the Mexican desert?" asked Pop.

Weed stood up to his full six foot six height, looked around the men gathered around the table. Stroking his long pepper salt beard. He looked as if he considering how to say what it was that he knew. Taking a long deep pause he said, "Tank called me about a week after the mission. He sounded drunk and incoherent, all he kept saying was 'They knew...They always knew.' At the time I didn't give it much thought, I figured it was just the ramblings of a drunk...until today. Now I'm remembering a conversation we once had years ago about man's origin. Just idle campfire philosophy. Tank once made the statement that governments knew more than they were telling. He claimed he had collected many books researching it. Tank just needed to find the one missing book to prove it. The books content was supossedly written in ancient mayan pictographs. Which until just a few years ago no one could decipher. At the time I thought it was just conspiracy bullshit. But, now I'm not so sure. The one concept he kept harping on was that the true story had been fractured and that's why organized religions never seemed to get it just right. Think about it, if all the differrent 'bibles' telling the stories were right in general context..but not complete. If various religions each had just a part of the story and they found the one journal that tied them all together. Every religion would have to be rewritten. The implications would be staggering. churches and mosques would fall from power. Governments would collapse. Even being an agnostic, Animal would have to agree anarchy would reign. It was always Tank's belief that if it were true the information should be released immediately."

"Wait a minute, are you trying to tell us our beliefs are wrong?" yelled out Pope. Pope being ordained a christian minister looked visibly pissed.

"No, not at all...we are just speculating here. We have no proof of any of this. Just following a line of logic as to what could affect two men so deeply. What would it take to turn Tank against his brothers and distance himself and why our goverment is going to such great lengths to discredit Animal. Whatever it may be, it's huge. And simple espionage dosen't cut it. Homeland security my Ass!" replied Marduk

Silence fell among the canyon walls. Each man lost in thought. They all had heard rumors through the years of the existance of such a journal.
Secret societies throughout history had claimed to posess the knowledge.
But to date it had never surfaced. Belief that goverments and religious organizations weren't always truthful or forthcoming was part of what made them bikers. They stood outside societys conventions. Often paying the price of losing freedom and for some even their very lives.

They also understood that even if it was true, information like that would have to be released gradually to allow the worlds population time to grasp the changes. Releasing proof like that all at once would be devastating.

Many had held the private belief society was already being given clues to this very subject. But slowly to give it time to assimilate into mainstream thought.

Pop surveyed the men surrounding the granite table, stood up and said, "Well, we ain't gonna find out sitting here. Mount up!"

Canyon walls shook as every bike in the clearing fired up at once. Some bikes cold from sitting had popped and backfired echoeing sharp staccato shots. Sand filtered off of the mesa walls in mini avalanches. Pungent fumes of oil and fuel permeated the dry desert air.

Almost as one the riders kicked into gear and rode out single file. Heading into the Valley of the Sun.

BSA blues

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I just took in trade for some work a 65 BSA frame. 650 engine and wheels

I dug out some parts and threw them on.

A old triumph front ribbed fender for the back.

A maltese cross tail-light on a old sissy bar. placed at the top. instead of using it as a tailight I'm thinking a leather pad for a backrest.



A tank that was rusty and caved in but I couldn't bear not to restore so I cut it open and striaghtened.

I haven't decided what to do about the oil tank, I have several to pick from.

Apehangers of course.

short stack exhaust.....obnoxiusly loud...this a 10.5 compresson engine.

Bates headlight.....perhaps 2 staggered one over the other. How we ran them in the seventies.

I'd like a 8 over girder or twisted springer front forks.....

Pagan gold or big metal flake green......or perhaps pearl orange..[yes I know Ann you hate that color] but it's for me ...not for you
You already stole one of my bikes.;]

Maybe even a metalflake king and queen seat.

But then I discovered a dillema.

After measuring the engine, with a few mods this thing would fit in my old servicar frame.

Be a helluva lot cheaper than finding a harley flathead and tranny.

I have a spare triumph 650 that would bolt right into this chopper frame [BSA and Triumph used the same frame configuration]

But I already have a triumph chopper.

And a BSA chopper is kinda rare nowadays especially with a lightning rocket engine.... very rare.

On the other hand Rascal would get to ride.

I could also use the trike for B.AC.A rides for the kids.

Hmmmm............

Desert Vengeance cont 4

Animal's legs were sending his brain mixed signals, the heat generated by the mighty twin was warming his calves and the cooling from the nitrous lines under the gas tank freezed his kneecaps. That is , if his gray matter had even a chance of listening. Preoccupied as it was with handling June at 180 miles an hour.

Animals senses already approached overload.

Hanging desert valley turns and twists. Busting free of mother earths gravity at every hill crest. The snarling Crocker was in her element.
Rapidly braking and downshifting, hanging his boot to the pavement. Animal broadsided around hairpin turns.

The ghosts of every ancient dirt tracker watched in pride.

Straightening out on long straightaways, Animal would tap the nitrous switch and send the spoked invader wheel reaching for altitude. The wheel's ceramic bearings allowed the rim to spin smoothly giving June the appearnce of clawing at the moon. Instinct was the driver. Animals conscious thoughts as always, centered around the mission at hand.

For a secretive agency like the N.S.A to release a surveillance video of the
'theft' of government property. Whatever was on those chips was definitely a national security issue. You don't screw with an American biker's family and brotherhood. You damn sure don't mess with his country.

Awakened from her peaceful slumber June seemed to be looking for payback. The supercharger's whine screamed a song of retribution.

Reaching the outskirts of Phoenix, Arizona, Animal slowed June to a legal speed. Wanted by everyone and anyone who ever carried a badge and then some, it wouldn't do to announce his arrival with a dozen speed cops on his tail.

Turning onto Camelback Road from Grand Avenue, Animal cruised the three miles to his destination. pulling into the gravel lot and rolling up to the building's entrance.

Animal dismounted and walked to the bar's swinging doors. Looking up at the sign overhead spelling out Panama Red's, Animal smiled and entered. Whoever had been listening in on the phone call with Commissioner Henderson probably wouldn't enjoy the private joke.

The soft neon glow filtering through the haze of cigar smoke cast a pale light on the military bearing of the man seated at the booth tucked in the corner. Commissioner Henderson waved Animal over and motioned to the waitress.

Animal slid onto the bench facing across from Henderson. "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes I would not have believed it possible."

Henderson looked at Animal quizzically and asked, "What wasn't possible?"

Animal replied, "The last time I saw you I said there's no way you could get any damn uglier....yet you pulled it off'."

Henderson laughed and responded, "This is the kind of response I'd expect from the poster child for outlawing relations to marry."

After the waitress had served their drinks. Henderson took on a serious tone and said, "We've got a lot to talk about."

Producing a folder from his briefcase Henderson pulled out a series of photos and placed them on the table. Pointing to the photo of the gate crashers he said, "This is the couple who stole the chips."

Animal, studying the photos, couldn't make out the face of the driver. The passengers helmet also hid her face. Barely visible in the picture you could see a few lines of a tattoo on the girl's leg. The chopper looked to be an old XS750 Yamaha. Looking over the bike he saw a custom made oil cooler prominently sculptured into the bike's front down tubes.

He suddenly realized he knew the bike and the girl on the back. With this realization came the knowledge of who the rider was. Animal asked, "Did you get anymore info on what was taken?"

Henderson nodded his head slowly and replied, "It's not quite clear yet but I did get some intel unofficially. It all has to do with a file named Mayan Dawn and a case from the late 80's."

Animal's heart skipped a note when Henderson mentioned the name of the file. Instantly aware of the magnitude of the case, Animal instinctively looked around the bar and saw two men entering with their guns drawn.

Both Henderson and Animal sized up the situation. Grabbing the table in unision they flipped it between them and the gunmen and both dove for the exit. Multiple shots rang out. Animal heard Henderson groan as he was hit in the leg. Henderson fell in the doorway blocking Animal's escape.
Never one to leave a friend behind, Animal reached down to aid Henderson and looked behind him to see one of the gunmen taking careful aim.

.

Pop and Kathy headed out of the bunker on Delores to rendezvous with Marduk at Devils Girdle.

Like all the bikes Animal and Pop had built, this old '62 panhead had a few tricks of her own on her duo glide frame.

Able to outrun and even out handle a race-prepped sporty. This ol' girl's suspension could take to off-roading like a luxury dirt scrambler. Crunching rocks, branches and cactus beneath her meaty tires, she rode like a cloud over the uneven desert terrain.

The twin peaks that signaled the entrance to Devils Girdle towered over the landscape. Rolling into the pass in second gear Delores shook the canyon walls with thunderous echoes.

Pop deftly throttled the panhead through the narrow gap that gave the hideaway its title. Rolling to a stop near the center, Pop set Delores on her side stand and felt his chest swell with pride as he surveyed the surroundings.

Parked neatly around the perimeter of the canyon walls sat one hundred and forty bikes. Standing in a semicircle near a granite table slab at the center, arms folded at their chests, the brothers who answered the call waited silently. From all points of the southwest, these men had all at one time had stood beside Animal and fought for their country in various situations. The most skilled fighters and riders wearing colors of various MC's and RA's had gathered to offer their assistance to a well respected brother of the road.

Pop switched off Delores and stepped off to embrace the men who had come to his son's call.

The '66 Sporty

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Desert Venegence cont 3

Animal and Pop winced at the high pitched yell reverberating along the long cavernous walls of the bunker. Kathy had started wailing as soon as the reinforced door had swung shut. The sounds of the barn collapsing overhead did not penetrate the reinforced walls. It also didn't let sound escape, giving no relief to the assault on their ears.

"Hey, quit your damn yelling, it's over for now, you're safe!" yelled Pop.

"Safe. What the hell are you talking about? We just got shot at by a jet plane, it destroyed your entire property. It's gonna come back and attack again." replied Kathy.

"The barn was shot to hell. Not many people know about this bunker, they'll think we were killed. This place could just about take a direct hit from a missle. It will buy us some time before they send someone to check for our bodies in all that wreckage." said Animal.

"We'd better come up with a plan damn fast. Whoever sent that plane knew you were here. I imagine it won't take them long to find about the bunker, too," said Pop.

"I agree, however with no official records of any of the extensive renovations you and I have made over the years to this place. They'll probably think it's still a dirt covered shack like it was when you first bought this place. No one will believe we could have survived," replied Animal.

Sweeping her arms out over the various motorcycles and vehicles that were parked neatly along the sides of the acre-sized cavern. Kathy asked, "Just what the hell is this place?"

Laughing, Pop replied, "This, my dear, is the ultimate man-cave. We built this when Animal was still undercover. It has all the toys a secret agent would ever need. James Bond would need a cold shower if he ever set foot in here."

Kathy stared at the two men like they had lost their minds.

Animal shot Pop a withering glare. It had always bugged the hell out of him when Pop would bust his chops about being a "secret agent man". When he was particularly liquored up he would even start singing it.

Pop saw the look and started laughing again. "Easy boy, your super agent wristwatch will get all funky and explode or something."

Animal took a step and started chasing Pop across the bunker. Pop was laughing at his own quip so hard he nearly fell to the floor. His words had produced the desired effect. The tension had been broken. Even Kathy began giggling at the scene unfolding before her. The weight of the days events gave way to outright laughter.

Animal looked at his two nearly hysterical companions. Shaking his head, he walked toward the office set along the back wall, and said, "I gotta check on some equipment. I'll leave you two clowns to your own devices."

Entering the office he grabbed the bottom of a life size portrait of Lee Marvin smiling evilly on his Harley from the movie The Wild One. Hinged at the top, it swung up and out from the wall. Behind the picture was a door with a combination lock. Spinning the code, he pulled the reinforced door open wide.

The walls of the room held different weapons that Animal had confiscated over the years in his career as a customs agent. Set on a pedestal in the center of the room, his black Desert Eagle pistol quietly awaited it's owner's return. Opening a door in the pedestal's side he pulled out a shoulder holster and put it on.

Replaying the days events in his mind, Animal couldn't shake the idea that this just wasn't adding up. His intuition was warning him with questions he didn't care for. The A10 attack was too quick in arriving. Kathy's behavior suggested a comfort with the situation that didn't jive with what he'd been told. Holstering his weapon, he walked to the rear of the room and took down a pair of sculptured carbon fiber saddlebags that were hanging on a steel pin. After he checked the contents, he headed back out to the motorcycles parked along the walls.

Kathy and Pop sat silent, reality had started to sink in.

Walking past the many bikes that he and Pop had built over the years, he thought of the choices before him. Custom Harleys, Triumphs and Indians.

There was only one real choice for a mission like this. One bike sat covered in the center of the floor. He pulled the softcover off. The lights overhead danced on the paint. Chrome sparkled.

The silence was broken by an audible gasp from Kathy. Even Pop stared reverently at the reveal of the legendary steed.

Famous in it's day for being a well built 'super bike' the 39 Crocker had been a hand assembled jewel of engineering. Extensively modified and upgraded well beyond anything the original designers could have ever dreamed possible, Animal and Pop had transformed her into modern sport bike killer.

Cut and bobbed chrome fenders swept over the carbon fiber invader rims shod in super sticky custom tread Pirelli tires. A black and gold painted aluminum coffin styled gas tank sat perched on the backbone. The bike's name, "June" lettered in 24-carat gold was flanked by twin nitrous bottles slung along the bike's light titanium frame. Double xenon headlights sat perched on the custom Ohlins super bike forks triple tree and a minuscule taillight was blended artfully into the bike's rear fender design. With no tach or speedometer, the prominent supercharger told anybody who cared to notice...this Huntress was out for blood.

Attaching the saddlebags, he opened one and pulled out a satellite phone. He placed a call to his long-time brothers in the wind. The voice that answered grunted, "Yep." Animal smiled and replied, "Classy way to answer a call as always, Marduk. I see that being named after an ancient god didn't impart you any manners."

''Animal! I was just thinking of you! I just saw a gawd-ugly old scooter bitch and figured you had to be close by."

"Hey, I haven't touched yer mama since you crawled out. I took one look at you and started humping Buffaloes. I figured the kids would be better looking," said Animal.

"No shit, really? I think I just ate your date," quipped Marduk.

"Why, did it have a creamy filling?" 'laughed Animal.

"What graces us with your annoying whiny-assed call?" asked Marduk.

Animal's voice took a serious tone as he described the events of the day.

Marduk didn't speak for a bit. Then he replied, "Whatever you need bro, I'll send Oracle to get the package left at the rest area and then round up the rest of the brothers. Meet at Devil's Girdle?" Animal agreed, snapped the receiver off and placed it back in the saddlebag. "Devil's Girdle," Animal whispered to Pop.

Pop nodded in assent. Devil's Girdle was a familiar location to him. It was a pass deep in the superstition mountains that narrowed to the width of one bike earning it's name whenever the club would race to the campsite. With only one way in or out it was an easily defensible position.

"You take Kathy and meet up there with Marduk. I gotta go see Chief Henderson," Animal said to Pop. Kathy looked around the bunker and asked "How? The door is buried under a ton of rubble!" Pop chuckled, "You think we only had one way out?" Pointing to the opposite end of the bunker, he continued, "There are three separate tunnels leading out through the mountains."

Animal stepped over June's frame, settled in and fired her to life. The reverberating twin echoed loudly off the walls. Stepping her into gear, the bike rolled smoothly out of the bunker, reaching the tunnel entrance. Animal twisted the throttle, and flipped the nitrous switch. June revved instantly, looking like a star ship reaching warp speed she tore out along the mountain shaft.

Pop looked over at Kathy. "Satan's gonna have to put up a no more vacancy sign when these guys are done."

Desert Vengeance continued...

Kathy's parched and sun burnt skin seemed to sizzle as she lowered herself into the cool waters of the natural jacuzzi that nature had provided beneath the overhanging ledge of the rocks in Oak creek. Four hours of hard desert riding had taken its toll on Heather and her riders. Finding respite along the oaks and mesquite trees along the river, Animal had set up camp for the night. Listening to the rolling waters quiet rhythms and Heather's ticking and gurgling as the steel and aluminum cooled, Animal unpacked his saddle bag retrieving drinks and a glass mason jar of chili, packed carefully that very morning. Animal chuckled to himself, “At least I learned some skills in the service.” He was painfully aware the fact that anything surviving after today’s ride was something bordering on a near miracle. He set the jar atop a large sunlit boulder. He'd let the desert sun’s natural heat warm the contents.

Watching Kathy contentedly relaxing in the shade, his mind replayed the day’s events; eleven customers had paid the coroner’s son's tuition to college in the space of an hour. A scrap yard had received a recycler's bounty, the local constabulary’s paychecks just went into overtime, hell’s denizens were dancing the Macarena in celebration of its new arrivals and Heather’s tanks were almost empty of fuel. All for a bunch of computer chips that sat buried a hundred miles from here. What the hell was so damn important on those chips that killing was necessitated, who was looking to gain? And how far was the extent of the threat to Animal and Kathy? Knowing no answer would be forthcoming from the desert air; he got up, undressed and waded out to join Kathy.

Settling beside her Animal breathed a sigh of relief as the cool waters swept away the dust and heat from his dry wind burned skin. Watching with a sly smile Kathy stood up and washed the dirt and grime from his back and shoulders. Low setting rays of sunlight sparkled in the crystals of liquid rhinestones on her well toned form. Droplets ran down her breast and fell from her gold piercings. Her hair gently brushed his chest as she reached over his arms to splash water down his crimson burnt skin. Sliding over to sit beside him she softly said, “Thank you for saving me out there today. If you hadn't come along when you did...,” the expression on her face said it all.

Animal didn't reply with words he just smiled and brushed the hair from her face. Kathy placed her head on his arm as they watched as the sun made it's farewell to the day with a spectacular array of colors in varying shades of orange, reds and purples. The last fading rays reflected off the clouds giving the appearance of neon tipped brushstrokes seemingly applied by the unseen hand of Michelangelo. Animal gently gathered Kathy up in his arms and carried her over to the blanket. Setting her down, he grasped her hand and said, “I'll be right back.” He walked over to the nearby boulder, retrieving the sun cooked chili and reaching into his cooler procured two bottles of beer and some utensils, and then headed back to join Kathy on the blanket. "Hope you like chili and beer.”

“Right about now I could eat lizards raw, but it just so happens I love chili and beer!” smiled Kathy.

After lighting the pile of mesquite surrounded by rocks Animal had set up earlier, they ate in silence watching the stars coalesce into view.
“Tomorrow we will ride to a place a good friend of mine lives. Then we will decide who to contact and what to do about all this.” said Animal.
She nodded in ascent and lay on her back pressing in against his hip. Animal reclined beside her, pulled her in tight and wrapped a blanket around them.

Morning came with the harsh return of sunlight reflecting over the waters of the stream. After putting on the river washed clothes they had left drying on the branches of a greasewood bush, Animal and Kathy erased all traces of having been there, packed Heather for the ride out. Animal pointed out over the desert. “Pop lives about fifty miles past that mountain in the distance. Once we get there we'll be better able to decide what we need to do.”

Heather awakened from her slumber shook and rumbled to life. Animal stepped her into gear and rolled her onto the dirt road leading away from the river. Keeping Heather’s speed slow to conserve what little gas she still had. The miles to the nearby mountain seemed to grow with each passing minute.

Spotting a silvery flash out in the nearby wash Animal stopped Heather, shut her off and speaking to Kathy said, “Wait here.” He dismounted and walked toward the source. An abandoned four-wheel drive truck was resting partially covered by the sand of the dry river bottom. Animal, hoping against hope, twisted the gas cap off the fuel tank, leaned in close and sniffed the fumes emanating forth. Gas!

Looking inside the truck’s cab, he found a three gallon water jug behind the driver’s seat. Pulling it out, he placed it under the truck’s gas line. Opening his multi-tool, he sliced the line and golden liquid poured forth into the jug. Elated at his sudden good fortune, Animal didn't even notice his muscles’ painful protest in carrying the jug back to Heather. He topped off her twin fat bob tanks and tossed the jug back toward the wash.
Animal shoved Heather’s kick start and she responded with her characteristic roar. Not having to conserve fuel Animal twisted the throttle ran Heather up thru the gears and covered the miles ahead in just over an hour.

Arriving at the well isolated ranch, Heather was ridden into the barn and covered over with a hay tarp. Animal and Kathy headed towards the main house. Sitting at the picnic table on the long covered porch, Pop was waiting with three hearty breakfasts and a pitcher of hot fresh coffee.

Animal smiled and said, “You were expecting us?” Laughing, Pop replied, “That old shovel of yours is so damn loud you couldn't sneak up on a Stones concert and Heather's distinctive bellow makes her all the more identifiable. Besides, you two are all over the news this morning, something about espionage? I knew you'd be arriving soon, after all where the hell else were you gonna go?”

Animal sat down and motioned Kathy to join them. She walked over slowly and sat next to Animal across from Pop while he continued on, “I made some phone calls and it seems that you two are wanted for stealing top secret files from the Tucson NSA Agency. There's a million dollar bounty on your heads dead or alive.”

“Are you gonna turn us in?” asked Kathy.

Pop could hardly keep from falling of the bench in laughter at that question. “Animal is more than a brother and son to me...no one will be turning anybody in around here, I can assure you. I will make a few calls and we will have trusted brother bikers up here in no time flat.” Animal finishing off the last bit of corned beef hash on his plate, stood up and said, “I'll go make some calls myself and see if I can get a little more detail concerning the case.” He walked into the cabin and closed the door.

Pop and Kathy continued eating. Kathy looked up at Pop and asked, “How did he get the name Animal?”

“Well what did he tell you?”

“He never said, but I could guess,” she said suggestively.

“Well then, you'd be wrong,” chortled Pop. “I gave him that name myself when he was just a young lad. I found him being jumped by a gang of teenagers, he fought them all off like a caged Animal...the name stuck even after I adopted him as my son.”

“What about his parents?”

“They were killed in Mexico by a drug smuggler for refusing to help bring cocaine across the border.”

“What else can you tell me about him?”

“Nothing,” Pop replied, “If you have any questions about Animal, you’re better off asking him yourself.”

Animal was never known for wasting time when it came to finding the details of a case. Today certainly would be no exception. Picking up the old style rotary phone he allowed himself a momentary smile. Things never change around this house, he thought. Pop was as stubborn and predictable as triple digit temperatures in a Sonoran desert summer. Animal remembered asking as a teenager why they couldn't have a new phone with touch tone dialing and Pop's gruff reply, “Why spend money for new-fangled phone when it could be better spent on our bikes?” Back then, Animal couldn't argue against the logic, thinking to himself, “Still can't.”

Placing a call to a direct line of the head of U.S Border Protection Service using his old undercover alias, the call was placed straight through.

“Commissioner Henderson speaking.”

“George it's me, Animal. I need to know what the hell all these espionage charges are all about. Who is claiming I had any part in this?”

“All I can tell you is they are showing footage around the agency of a biker and his female passenger busting through the gate at N.S.A I checked the footage myself and the chopper’s three exhaust pipes exiting from the front of the engine told me clearly it wasn't you. Commissioner Henderson was a longtime collector of rare vintage American bikes and knew exactly what to look for. “Somebody is setting you up. And they're doing a damn good job of it.”

“What is it they are saying was stolen?”

“N.S.A is being tight-lipped about the details. Our division of Homeland Security is being kept in the dark. Even the White House is keeping silent about this. None of my contacts there will mention anything about it. Whatever it was you stepped in, I hope you have a long snorkel because this is some deep shit. I'll keep looking to see what I can dig up. How can I get hold of you?”

Animal replied, “I still have the satellite phone from the Panama mission around here someplace, call me on that, I doubt anybody will still be monitoring that old frequency. Even if they are, the built in encryption should still hold them off for a while.”

Pop's sudden yell to “Run” was followed by a sudden rain of ordinance that tore half the house to splinters in a fraction of an instant. A growling sound and a sudden boom of a jet engine passing overhead told Animal what was happening: an A10 gunship was firing on the house.

Jumping through an open window he sprinted toward the barn following Pop and Kathy. Once inside they ran to an old horse stall and swept away the hay covering a door. Grasping the clasp and swinging the door ajar, they jumped down the steps to an underground bunker. The bunker had been part of the property when Pop had purchased it in a government auction back in the early seventies. It had been used as an underground hydroponics lab for growing marijuana.

The A10's gun shredded the barn just as they reached the bottom steps leading into the interior. Pop looked at Animal, pointed to the ceiling and said, “I don't know what the hell you got yourself into son, but I can guarantee you there's gonna be some serious payback for this.”