Buried Treasure Ch. 66-70

The adrenalin had worn off, and I hurt like hell from all the places I’d taken shrapnel.

I saw the grenades flying up and turned to run, but I didn’t get far enough away. The blast knocked me into the door frame, making me a little loopy. The stretcher-bearers had moved me onto the operating room table, and a woman in pink scrubs started taking my vitals. “How are you feeling, Mr. Grimes,” she asked.

“Like I should have retired earlier,” I said. “How bad is it?”

“We’ll let the Doctor tell you,” she said as she injected me with something. “It’s a sedative, not strong enough to knock you out but it should dull things a little. There’s a lot of little pieces in you, this might take a while.”

“I need to make a phone call,” I said.

“You’re getting operated on, phones aren’t happening in a sterile zone,” she countered.

“Put it in a bag. I’ll use Siri and speakerphone, so I don’t touch it. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important; the Task Force needs to know what’s happened here.”

“Let the man talk,” Chase said as he walked in. He’d taken the time to dress in scrubs and a surgical gown, and went to the sink to scrub up. “It’ll keep his mind off the pain.”

“Yes, Doctor,” she said. She put the phone in a clean bag, putting it by his head. Pressing the button, she brought up Siri for him.

“CALL IRENE LINDSTROM,” he said. The call was placed, rang five times, and went to voice mail. “Irene, this is Frank Grimes. I’m with Chase Nygaard, and we just repelled an attack by members of the Sons of Tezcatlipoca at his home near Two Harbors. It’s imperative that I talk to you immediately,” he said. He nodded to Possum, and she ended the call. “Hit the Siri again, please?”

This time he called Frank Donovan. The phone rang four times, and a very sleepy Frank answered the phone. “Frank, It’s Frank Grimes. I need your help.”

“Jesus, Frank, it’s four-thirty in the fucking morning, you’re not my boss anymore, and you’re on vacation. What possible reason could you have to wake me up?”

“Chase and Rori’s home was attacked by the Sons a half-hour ago. We killed five of them.”

“SONOFABITCH!” There was noise as the phone dropped. “I’m up. What do you need?”

“I need to talk to the Task Force, but they’ve moved. I tried calling Irene Lindstrom directly, and she didn’t answer. I need to talk to them.”

“I’ll have them call you. Are you all right?”

“No. The attackers were tossing grenades, and I’ve got a bunch of metal in my ass. We lost two dogs in the defense.”

“Shit. I’m not on the Task Force anymore, but I’ll have them call you ASAP. Take care of yourself, Frank.”

“You too.” She hung up the phone, and I groaned in pain as Chase started digging around in my back. “How bad is it, Chase?”

“We’re going to be here a while, and you’ll have lots of new scars,” he said. “You got lucky; you were far enough from it that most of the wounds aren’t deep, and the rest missed vital organs. You’re lucky you were turned away from it and bent over when that grenade blew.”

“The important stuff is still good, right?”

“Christ, Frank, that’s my MOTHER you’re sleeping with, the one I heard you banging last night like a broken screen door in a tornado. You’re lucky I don’t neuter you while you’re here.”

“Don’t take away her happiness, Chase.” She hadn’t shared much, but I could tell she was happy being happy again.

“I won’t. You’ll be in a lot of pain as I remove all the shrapnel, clean out the wounds, and sew them up. I can’t use a general anesthetic, and locals can’t do much, so we’re going to strap you down and see how tough you are.”

Possum leaned down. “I can give you something to bite down on if it gets too bad.”

“Fuck. Can’t I just drink half a bottle of whiskey like in the movies?” This night was going to suck.

“Nope. I’m going to start injecting the sites with lidocaine, you’ll feel some pokes, but you’ll thank me later.” He had been working on me for about half an hour, and I still hadn’t heard from the Task Force when the door opened and Colletta was wheeled in. I smiled, then grunted as Chase dug around again.

“How is he doing,” she asked.

“Your human pincushion will be fine,” I said. “I hope you don’t mind company on bedrest.”

“Not at all,” she said with a smile. She held my hand, and I relaxed into her touch.

“We need to talk about some things,” I said.

“Later. Let’s get you sewn up first.”

Chase and Possum were in a rhythm, working wound to wound. The pile of junk they’d pulled from my body kept growing; he was on my thighs and working down. Suddenly, Chase stopped working and growled. “Those BASTARDS,” he yelled. “I can’t believe it.”

“What happened,” Possum said as I wondered how he could learn anything with no radio on and no phone call.

“Ron talked to the Deputy over at the neighbor’s house, where they are holding the Lundergaard’s. A Duluth Police Captain got a tip last night that the Sons had a few dozen men meeting at a hotel down there. When he called the Task Force, he found out that the Sons were up here to go after Rori and me.”

“And no one warned you,” I finished.

“Yeah. Locals have surrounded the hotel, but they didn’t bother to give us a heads up.” He had to step away from the table and take a few breaths; I could see his hands shaking with rage. “I lost two Pack members because we didn’t know.”

At that point, the phone rang. “Frank Grimes,” I answered.

“Mr. Grimes, this is Deputy Commander Virgil Solozzo with the FBI Sons of Tezcatlipoca Task Force. I understand you were involved in an incident?”

I just got quiet; my woman and her family could have died, and he was treating it like it was nothing. “Commander Solozzo, were you told a few hours ago that the Sons of Tezcatlipoca were gathering in Duluth tonight?”

“I was told of this, but also that the weather was such that they couldn’t go anywhere. We have Hostage Rescue and other assets ready to move in as soon as they can. We are coordinating with local law enforcement so we can take them into custody without endangering civilians.”

“Yeah, right. Like the two trained guard dogs here who died because you didn’t warn Chase Nygaard there was a threat? Or the retired couple kidnapped in their own home across the lake? You fucked up, Solozzo. You know it, and your team knows it. Quit digging around in my business, and stop poking around in Rori’s past too. You are endangering good people, and I’m tired of it.”

There was a laugh on the other end. “You’re on suspension, Grimes, and you’ll be in jail by the end of the week. We don’t owe you a fucking thing, not after you tipped off people that the raid was coming and good men died. As for Chase Nygaard and his crazy-ass wife, we don’t owe them anything either. I’ve seen her medical records; they make for fascinating reading. What will the Medical Board say when they find out Chase was fucking a mental patient just weeks after he signed her release from the looney bin?”

“How did you get a warrant for her medical records, Virgil?”

“We don’t need warrants; this Task Force can do whatever it needs to do to take both gangs down. Chase and Rori are dirty, and I’m going to find out how she got her money and take her down. If the Sons kill them first, that’s even better.”

“You’re an asshole, Virgil. I’m going to enjoy watching your career end, along with anyone else who went along this.”

“You’re out, Grimes.”

“I’ll see you on the news; they will LOVE this recording.” I gestured to Possum, and she ended the call. “This isn’t over.”

“Not by a long shot,” Chase said. He drank a bottle of water, scrubbed in, and started poking around in my legs again.

Ch. 69

Hawk’s POV (SoT Patched Member)
Arrowhead Lake

There were only two ATV’s and no snowmobiles, so Loco told us we’d have to walk. “We’ll lead you there, just follow the engines,” he said.

Asshole.

We left a Prospect in charge of watching the old couple, and the rest of us armed up and headed out. It was colder than a brass toilet seat in an outhouse; it hurt to breathe. The snowmobile suits and boots we had on were warm enough, but they didn’t cover everything. My eyeballs hurt, my nose started running, and the tears and snot were freezing in my beard before we even got to the damn water. It was so cold you could spit, and it would freeze before it hit the ground. We reached the lake, went maybe a hundred steps out onto the ice, and we couldn’t hear the engines anymore. “Fuck, anyone hear them,” I asked. Fucking Loco was so eager to kill people he couldn’t even stay with us.

We couldn’t hear anything but the wind. Our group was huddled together in the dark, where you couldn’t see five feet in front of you. I had my left hand in my pocket as my right shined the flashlight back and forth, the wind gusting in our faces. It was too dark for sunglasses, and the snow and wind made it impossible to look up. I got lucky; the beam of my flashlight showed a tire track from the ATV’s. I yelled for everyone to follow.

It was tough going; the lake would have patches of slippery clear ice, then a snowdrift three feet high. We were going at the speed of smell, and the wind soon erased any evidence of ATV’s ahead of us. Fucking Loco had told us not to bring phones on this trip, so I couldn’t call him, and I didn’t even have a compass. I promised I would beat his ass when my flashlight died too.

Everyone gathered close, huddling behind me to let me block the wind. “Where the fuck are those guys,” one man asked.

“Keep the wind at our two o’clock, and we’ll make it to the Point,” I said. “We’ve got to keep moving. Grab on to the guy in front of you and don’t let go. You’ll fucking die out here if you get lost.”

I kept walking the way I had been going; my feet were freezing, I couldn’t feel my face, and I couldn’t see five feet ahead of me. We kept going, a frozen chain gang on a godforsaken Minnesota lake. The Prospect was crying, Reaper was praying out loud to Mary for deliverance, and the others were just quiet.

Gunshots rang out, somewhere off to our left. “Motherfucker couldn’t wait for us,” I cursed. “Come on.” We took our rifles off and ran towards the noise. The battle was brief; a few explosions, screams of pain, and a lot of growling and howling, all before we could get close enough to do anything.

“They’ve got fucking dogs,” Reaper said.

“They also won,” I said as we huddled together. “Hear that? They’re organizing patrols.”

“Do we attack now?” The Prospect was so cold, he would probably give himself up just to get in the house.

“Look, we have no vehicles, no surprise, and we’re heavily outnumbered. We need to go back to the cars and get the fuck out of here,” I said. “Follow me.”

The sound of dogs and people died away quickly in the howling wind, as our group death-marched back in the direction I hoped the house was in. “We have to stop,” Reaper said. “I can’t feel my feet.”

I looked at my watch, it was seven-thirty. “Sunrise will be soon, we have to keep moving.”

By eight, the sun was up. It didn’t help; instead of a black snowstorm, it was a dark grey snowstorm. We couldn’t see, and we couldn’t keep walking. “Sit down, boys. Nuts to butts, back to the wind, hold on to each other and we’ll get through this.”

The storm won, I thought an hour later before I fell asleep.

Heather Rhodes (Harleigh Ryder’s) POV
Alexandria Safe House

For almost two days, nothing moved outside the house as the winter storm tore through. As I woke up in Greg’s arms, I didn’t hear the wind howling, and the sun was out.

I moved his arm off my left breast, giggling a bit at how obsessed he was with them even in his sleep. No matter where his hands started, one or both always ended up cupping one of the girls. It was like a magnet, one that I didn’t mind. He’d paid a lot of attention to them in the last few days, and I’d enjoyed every minute. Once we finally went all the way, there was no going back for either of us.

I slowly swung my legs down to the floor and sat up. My gunshot wound still hurt, but it was improving daily. I put on my fuzzy slippers, then stood and grabbed my soft bathrobe on the way to the bathroom. The room was cold, and the window was frosted over. I pulled my robe tight around me after I finished my business and brushed my teeth. I was a Florida girl. I hated the cold, and couldn’t understand how people could live in this crap.

Greg was still sleeping as I came out, and since it was almost eight-thirty, I figured I’d work on breakfast. I moved into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. Looking in the fridge, I found some blueberries and a can of whipped cream. An idea came to mind; I grabbed those plus the bacon, milk, and eggs and put them on the counter, then found the pancake mix in the cupboard. I pulled out a bowl and made up a large batch, knowing just how much Greg could eat in the morning. I didn’t put the blueberries in; my Mom had taught me that if you do, it just smushes them up.

I got the bacon going in one of the pans and checked the other skillet was at the right temperature. I poured out three pancakes using a small measuring cup. Before they hardened, I dribbled a half-dozen blueberries into each pancake. I smiled as I cooked; I realized I was happy again after all that had happened to me. I went through a lot, but I found Greg because of it. His love pulled me out of the pit, and I loved being his.

I pulled out a plate, stacking up the finished ones as I worked, and another for the bacon. I was finishing up the last two pancakes, both of which had smiley faces made from carefully-placed blueberries when he came into the room. “That looks amazing, baby.”

He moved in and wrapped his arms around me, one of his hands moving inside my robe and cupping a breast. Of course. I leaned back into him, and he gave me a deep kiss. When his hand started drifting down towards the tie for my robe, I smacked it. “Breakfast is ready. Set the table, Greg. We’ve got all day for that.”

“Still not enough time,” he said with a grin. He put out plates and silverware and poured us coffee and orange juice just as I brought the plates of food over. I went back to get the butter and syrup, then took my three pancakes while I stared at his pile of six pancakes and a handful of bacon. “What?”

“That doesn’t look very efficient,” I said. “If you put enough syrup on for six pancakes, how does it reach the ones near the bottom?”

“I cut them up, and dip them in my syrup,” he said as he buttered pancakes inside his stack so it would melt.

“Yeah, but then you drown your bacon. Three pancakes max, and bacon draped over the edges to keep out of the way. Learn from the Master.”

“Maybe I like things dipped and sticky,” he said as he sprayed some whipped cream over the top of his stack. “Mmmm... so good. What a great morning wakeup.”

“Not as good as a few days ago,” I said with a grin. “Hard to top that.”

“Me hard, you top,” he replied, nearly causing me to spit my juice out.

“Behave! I’m trying to eat!”

“So am I, but you are VERY distracting when I know you’re naked under that robe.” I pulled the top of the robe together and tightened the belt so I wasn’t showing so much cleavage. He looked out the window. “Clear skies means cold weather,” he said. “Things will be moving again.”

“Do you think I can go outside?” I’d been cooped up for days.

“I think when I open the door, you’ll squeal and run back to the fireplace. It’s got to be ten below out there.” We talked about our plans; it was time for me to get serious about an exercise routine. “I’ll get the exercise bike put together today, and we can do a light workout together. Stretching, jump rope, basic calisthenics. We’ll do exercises that don’t twist or bend your torso while you heal.”

I nodded as I finished my bacon. “It’s feeling better every day.”

“We don’t want to push it; there’s no doctor around and no need to rush your recovery. Listen to your body, it will tell you what it needs.” He finished as I did, and he packed the leftovers into baggies as I took the dishes into the sink. The rental place didn’t have a dishwasher, so I filled up one side with soapy hot water and started putting all the stuff in there. He wiped off the table as I was cleaning the plates and setting them into the drying rack by the sink.

I was starting the pans when I felt a rush of cold air on my bare butt, then a pair of hands grabbed my thighs. I squealed “GREG!” as his tongue flicked across my core. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t say anything. He just kept licking me as one of his fingers moved over my clit. I bit my tongue, not wanting him to stop. “Finish the job,” he said as he lightly smacked my butt. I groaned and went back to scrubbing the pan as he pressed his face to me again. I put the last fry pan in the rack and turned around.

He stood and picked me up, setting me on the kitchen counter before pulling the tie from my apron. He pushed it off my shoulders, spreading it behind me before he laid me back onto the hard surface. “I’m not done eating yet,” he said with a grin as he grabbed the can of whipped cream he’d left by the stove.

“What are you doing with that?”

He sprayed some of the whipped cream on my exposed boobs, making the nipples harden with the cold. Then he sprayed more between my legs. “I told you, I like things dipped and sticky.” He moved over me, opening his mouth wide to suck the cream off my left nipple.

I moaned in pleasure as he sucked and licked to get it all before moving to the other. “What if I don’t like it?”

He looked up at me and laughed. “Listen to your body. What is it telling you?”

I could feel my pussy was wet and ready for him. He grinned, knowing my answer, and moved down to start licking up the rest. He held my legs up and apart as he attacked my core, and didn’t stop until the whipped cream was gone and I’d cum hard twice. After the second, while I was looking at the ceiling and catching my breath, I felt his cock rub between my lips and push inside. “GREG!” I said as he sheathed himself in one long push.

“You’re so hot, baby,” he said as he started to fuck me. He put my legs over his shoulders as his hands squeezed my tits, and his thumbs flicked over the nipples. It felt amazing, and my body loved it. I came on his cock, squeezing it hard, but he wasn’t ready to cum just yet. He moved one hand down to play with my clit as he started pounding into me harder and harder. The combination pushed me to a higher peak, and I screamed his name again as a stronger orgasm hit me like a freight train.

He pulled out just in time, fisting his big cock until he sprayed his seed over my body. The first shot reached my neck, and the next ones left lines of white down my breasts and stomach. We both caught our breath, just getting our minds back again after a mind-blowing session. “You know,” I said with a grin, “You might be right about this dipped and sticky thing.”

“You look great like that, but we should clean up and get going,” he said. He helped me to my feet, and we walked naked to the shower together. Well, naked except my fuzzy slippers. The floor was COLD, you know.

Pocket’s POV
Duluth Dew Drop Inn Motel

I was hungry, and none of the delivery places were open this early. The storm was winding down, but the city of Duluth wasn’t moving yet at eight AM. Almost all businesses and government buildings were closed again today. The news lady said it would be early afternoon before the winds would die down enough to clear all the streets.

The others started to filter in, closing the doors quickly behind them to keep out the wind. I had men from four other Chapters who had arrived up here after receiving the message from the Oracle. I was the only Vice President, and the only one the Oracle told why we were here. That left me in charge. “We’re staying put and out of sight for another day,” I told them. “Call down and extend your stay another two days. The Oracle said that more are coming, they got stuck in the storm along the way. When everyone is here, we’ll move.”