Moral Degeneration

“I need 5 grand,” Brianna said when we were in a more secluded area. I was surprised by the amount. “I know you boys get 1 grand a month just for existing. I only want 5 of it.” That made more sense. I forgot about that fact. 

 

“I’m not against the amount, Brianna,” I said. She sighed. “But how do I know you won’t just ask for the same amount next month, or the month after? To be sure you don’t bully anyone I’d have to give it to you in installments. Unless you need it all right now?” 

 

She groaned but nodded quickly. “I need it now,” she said. The older girl was desperate, I could see it clear as day. 

 

“Then I need to know why you need it.”

 

The tall skinny girl looked around. No one was there. “I just need it.”

 

“Cool. No deal. If you want all that money. I want to know why.” The private school should be the kids of the elite. I would think $5,000 was nothing to them. She clenched her fist in anger. Her nostrils flaring she was considering hitting me. Brianna surprisingly stopped herself and sighed. I released the knife in my pants as she explained. 

 

“About 1 in 100 kids here are on scholarships,” she said. We were in an empty classroom. Sitting on a desk she faced me and explained shyly. “I’m one of them. My home life isn’t the best but I’m smart. Really smart. My older sister, not so much. She got with a bad crowd after graduating her high school and got popped. It was her first offense. She got 2 years. We are hoping she will get out on parole in a year. But until that happens I need to get her protection. Protection costs money.”

 

“You need $5,000 for protection money,” I said. It sounded like a lot for 1999 er 2000. I forgot the year again. “Who is providing the protection?” 

 

“Local biker gang. The Nightingales,” she said. Bikers could be tricky. Coked out and running guns were the standard back in my day. Then I remembered they were all women. They might be different. I had to admit it was a sweet name. I wondered if they were this world's equivalent to the Hells Angels. I had thought bikers were primarily in warmer states. What the hell was one doing way up north in Minnesota?

 

“Do you have a contact?” She looked at me confused. “Who do you pay this money to?” 

 

“They have a club across town.”

 

“Okay. Take me there and I’ll get it done,” I said. 

 

“What?! I can’t do that,” she said. Fear in her voice. 

 

“You can and you will if you want to protect your sister,” I said. “You have a car? I need to go to the bank to get the money.” 

 

She had an internal fight. But eventually she nodded. I could feel her desperation making her do dumb things. Of course she shouldn’t take me. She would do anything to protect her sister. I respected that. I had my own reasons for going.

 

We headed out the door. I got a call from Luna. After explaining some things I told her I’d call her in a couple hours. If I didn’t, she could worry then. She did not like that answer. But I was firm. We got in Brianna’s crappy old car. An old Buick LeSabre. I couldn’t tell you the last time I had seen a car this ragged. I guessed it cost a few hundred dollars, if that. 

 

“I’m driving,” I told her. She fought me on it, but I don’t negotiate. I took her to my bank near my house. 

 

I had received the documentation for all my money the Friday before. I left Brianna in the car. Provided the necessary papers. Pulling out $9,000 I put $5,000 in one pocket and the rest split into $1,000s hidden over the rest of my body. 

 

Getting back in the car with Brianna she was nervous for obvious reasons. I ignored her and drove. She directed me to a seedier part of town. I was getting more comfortable with every crack house I saw. 

 

This was the area I was used to. It had been odd seeing nothing but nice house after nice house since I arrived in Minneapolis. I expected there was some trick to it. But no, everyone in those neighborhoods had money. This was the sort of place I grew up near. Someone selling drugs on the corner. Another corner had someone getting beat up. 

 

It was weird to see all the culprits were women. But that was to be expected in this world. People didn’t change. There were vacuums everywhere. When some ugly part of society wasn’t represented, the world would pull who it could to fill the void. I think I saw some prostitutes too. They were run hard and beat up. At least they were still female. Some things didn’t change.

 

“What did your sister do?” I asked Brianna. 

 

She eyed me from the passenger seat. Her legs shaking she twitched, too nervous to put on a cool face. I was calm and collected. This was any other day for me. Eventually she answered, “Robbery. B & E. It was dumb. Cops came and her buddies ran.” 

 

“Of course,” I said. “Sounds like something that should have been thrown out. Get a lawyer?” 

“Didn’t have the money. Public defender. They did what they could. But judge wanted to make an example. Wasn’t one for deals. My mom is all distraught.” 

 

I was more than a little curious. “My guardian had trouble getting 2 guys to impregnate her,” I said. “How’d you mom manage to have 2 kids?” 

 

“She has 3,” Brianna corrected. “My little sister goes to public school. You can get ahold of guys if you know where to look, and you don’t mind if they’re not the most …reputable.” 

 

I understood. Drugged up guys. Men that would do anything for another hit. I could see the need for it. And I doubted the government stepped in. It would be a crying shame if only the elites had kids. They needed low income households to have them too. Who else would cut their lawn and serve them lunch? 

 

We were getting closer to the destination when my eyes caught something off. It was a nice new truck. It was obvious as per usual. An electrician’s vehicle, the cops were as subtle as ever.. 

 

“Where are you going?” Brianna asked as I missed our turn. 

 

“Getting the lay of the land,” I said. I took a turn. Then another. At the last intersection I found another one. It was a big shipping truck. Like UPS, but a white truck instead. No one moved in or out of the truck. The biker clubhouse was straight ahead. Prime location for the bikers to be monitored. Either local police or feds were watching them. I wasn’t sure. It made things tricky. 

 

Putting my sweater hood over my head I drove us to the club. There were a few bikes lined up out front. A few choppers. Mainly nice and shiny crotch rockets. I couldn’t understand why they would drive them in such cold weather. There were a few Jeeps and minivans as well. Why be a biker gang if you weren’t going to drive your boke? 

 

The bar we were in front of was called Nightingales. We parked on the opposite side. I was sure to stay hidden under my hoodie. Brianna was nervous. I was not. 

 

“Ok, how much is your debt?” I asked. “I’m not buying $5,000 for a year of protection.” 

 

“The bikers want $250 a month. So $3,000. I had to pay $1,000 for an introduction. I didn’t have that. Had to borrow it at high interest,” she said. 

 

“Damn, you got ripped off,” I said. $250 was more along the lines for protection. It wasn’t the best protection, but it would keep her out of people’s hair. “Ok.” I pulled out the $5,000. I gave her $2,000. “We are paying your loan shark after this. Right?” She nodded. Eyes wide as she stared at the $2,000. “I don’t trust it in your car. Put it in your bra. Don’t let them see it. What is your sister’s name?” 

 

“Leanne, Leanne Brooks,” she said. I guessed that made her Brianna Brooks. 

 

“I do the talking,” I said. 

 

“Are you sure?” She whined. The bully was so nervous she was actually shaking. 

 

“I’m sure. You’re about to piss yourself. I do the talking. Don’t react to anything. No sudden movements. If people search you. Let it happen. Look them in the eyes, but don’t stare. Whatever happens in there. Let it happen. Don’t react. I can’t stress that enough.” 

 

“What-what are you going to do?” She asked. 

“I’m going to make some friends,” I said. Getting out of the car I walked into the bar like I had done this a thousand times. Brianna yelped and ran after me. No one outside, I stepped into the bar. A wave of smoke billowed out. I took in a deep breath and put a smile on my face. Taking my hood down I looked around. 

It wasn’t much different than back in my old life. The bikers were mostly hotter, but some were rough around the edges. Tattoos everywhere there were shaved heads, mohawks, braided hair, piercings, and surprisingly a whole bunch of nudity. Women wore tight leather that showed off cleavage, abs, legs, and asses. This was my kind of place. I was tempted to join myself if the view was this good. 

 

The girls stopped what they were doing one by one. Looking up at me they eyed me like I was their prey. A shiver ran up my spine and a smile split my face. “Hola Nightingales. I have a meeting scheduled with your boss.” 

 

There were mumblings from the girls. A woman with a shaved head hit a ball on a pool table. It bounced around and she stood erect. Eyeing me she had this very strong feel to her. Leather jacket vest on, she showed off the toned muscles of her arms. Her eyeshadow was a little excessive, but one of her eyes was black. She had been in a fight recently. 

 

“Who’s asking?” She asked. 

 

“Me, and my friend here,” I said giving Brianna the thumbs up. She wasn’t shaking, but I could feel the fear in her as she stepped behind me. Though she was taller it was natural to move behind someone. I caught sight of more than a few guns and knives openly displayed. 

 

“A boy coming to us,” she said with a laugh. “This is a new one girls.” She walked up, pool cue in hand and she stopped a few feet away. Eyeing me up and down I gave her my best smile. “Alright, come to the back.” She started walking to the back of the room. I walked through the parted group of women. One grabbed my ass. I didn’t react. Some gave me kissing faces, others winks. I dropped my smile and put on a serious look. 

 

We walked back to a small room, and surprisingly there was a guy there. He was pale, blonde, and in barely any clothes. The track marks on his arms were obvious. Whatever he was on was doing him wonders as he sat in the corner, oblivious to everything around him. 

 

“Get the money for your sister?” The woman asked Brianna. She yelped and nodded. She looked to me. 

 

“I have it,” I said. “Just want to make sure on the details. I’m new around here. Mind if we sit and chat?” 

 

“Not at all,” the woman said. A few more women followed in after us. They sat at a large nice wood table. There were cards, poker chips, and beer bottles splayed all over it. An ashtray too. I grabbed it and pulled it over. Reaching into my pocket they didn’t react. They weren’t too scared, which was good. Either I caught them sober, or they didn’t have much competition. Or I was really low on their threat radar. 

 

I pulled out my stolen pack of smokes and lit one up. Taking a long drag I looked to the leader. “I am Willard,” I said. “Mind introducing yourself?”

 

“Florence,” she said with a smile. I doubted that. They were named after Florence Nightingale. I wondered if Florence was more of a title. 

 

“Good to meet you. So protection. Curious how many girls you have in the same prison to provide the protection.” 

“Enough,” she said. Her bald head shined in the dim light. I wondered if the carpet matched the drapes. 

 

“What other gangs are there? Aryans? Mexicans?” 

She let out a sigh. Rolling her eyes she said, “Kid, I’ve got things to do.” 

“What? Better things than talking to a cute boy like me?” I asked with a big smile. A few of the women showed it as well. “I am here to talk business. I grew up across the country. We can skip the small talk and jump straight to it if you want, but I like a little foreplay.” 

She eyed me up and down. It took time but she came to a decision about something. Leaning forward she said, “You are a strange boy.” 

 

“If the ol’ tweaker twink back there is a representation of a normal boy,” I said pointing at the drugged up boy behind us, “then I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

 

She laughed loudly at that. Nodding she said, “Fine, I can make some time. Your sister is in Sandstone. Mid-security. Mainly Mexicans are the only ones to worry about. They like to make runs up to Canada and get caught.” 

“Good to know,” I said. I pulled out the $3,000 and threw it on the table. “We good on that end?” One of the girls took it and Florence nodded. “Perfect. I want to talk other business.” 

“Oh yeah?” She asked. “You got a sister locked up too?”

 

“No, but I would like to procure some items,” I said. “I assume you guys provide protection for businesses around here. Run guns and drugs across the country?” No one answered. I didn’t expect them to. “I want some guns.” 

“Oh yeah? What’s a cute boy like you need with some guns?” A girl asked. 

 

“I was almost kidnapped the other day,” I said bluntly. 

“Boys get kidnapped every day,” another one said. 

 

“Isn’t that a shame,” I said. “I’d prefer it didn’t happen. So I want a few guns to help…deter such actions.” I looked the girls over one by one. “I don’t care if the weapon is hot. I think I’ll be able to prove I didn’t pull the trigger if you dropped bodies with it. I’m sure you have a few laying around that you would prefer to…disappear.” 

 

Florence looked to the other girls. She shrugged. “What are you looking for?” 

 

“A revolver for one. The other I don’t care. .357 or 9mm,” I said. “2 total. Show me what you got.” Florence looked to the youngest girl. She sighed and got up. Going to the back it wasn’t long till she came out with a bag. She dumped them on the table. I put out my cigarette and got up to look at them all. 

 

It was a wide variety of shit. I started moving them out of the way. Some were still loaded. I was careful not to be too rough. “These have seen better days,” I whispered. None were well maintained. I picked one up, looked down the barrel and it was actually bent.

 

“Come on man,” I said. “I want a gun, not a pea shooter. Look at this one, it’s got blood on it,” I said. “This seriously all you have?” I asked. Florence gave me a wide smile. With a groan I picked up a Ruger LCR. It was older, but tiny and snub nosed. Perfect for concealing. Opening the chamber I dropped the bullets out of it. They were spent, no one bothered to empty it. I looked down the barrel. It was passable. Digging into the pile once more I found a Glock. I didn’t want to risk it being owned by a cop that was now dead. Dropping that I pulled out a nice Jericho 941. I had missed it before.  

 

Both guns were 9mm. Black handles and metal. Good balance. I was pleased with them. “Alright, these both hot?” I asked Florence. 

“Maybe,” she said. 

 

“How much?” 

 

$1,000, each,” she said. 

 

I laughed in her face. “You couldn’t have paid more than a hundred each,” I said. I wanted them, but I wasn’t up for wasting money. 

“That’s the price,” she said. 

“$500 each,” I said. 

“$1,500  for both,” she said. 

 

“$1,000 for both. That’s already double what they’re worth. Besides, I might want more in the future. You’d hate to pass up a future sale, wouldn’t you?” I asked. She frowned, but nodded. I pulled a grand from my sleeve and threw it on the table. Putting the guns in my hoodie front pocket I sat back down. 

“Now, I am curious if you all have a line on condoms,” I said. 

 

Florence laughed loudly. “What makes you say that?”

 

“Tweaker twink over there,” I said. “I assume he’s your little play thing. I doubt you all risk anything laying with that guy. How much for condoms?” Florence smiled. 

“$100 each,” she said. 

“Come on, Florence. We just did the dance. I have money. I’ve been a good customer the last transactions. Give me a real number,” I said. 

She looked to the other girls at the table. They all sported smiles. “Gotta admit, I like you kid. Your friend is about to piss herself. You act like you’re at the grocer,” she said. Some other girls chuckled with her. 

“This is a simple transaction,” I said. “I have money. You have goods. It’s how the world works.” 

 

Florence nodded. “15 each,” she said. I gave her a look. “We get them shipped in from Japan, kid. They aren’t cheap.” 

I nodded. If they were from Japan I actually trusted the quality. “How many can I get right now?” Florence looked to one of the girls. 

 

“100. We didn’t finish that one shipment,” she said. 

 

“I’ll take all 100,” I said. Pulling out 2 more stacks of $1000 I counted out and dropped $1,500 on the table. 

 

“Planning a fun weekend?” Florence asked. 

 

“Why, you want an invite?” I asked with a wide smile. She mirrored it. “No, I just like to be prepared. I’m a boy scout.” 

 

“Ha!” She laughed. “I haven’t heard of one of those in a long time.” 

 

“I’m bringing them back,” I said. 

 

“Anything else?” Florence asked. She eyed me up and down. 

 

“One last thing,” I said. “I want a favor.” 

 

“Oh yeah? What kind of favor?” Florence asked, leaning forward again. 

 

“Information,” I said. “I assume you’re well connected. I was serious about almost being kidnapped. Curious if you would hear of future things like that.” 

 

“We don’t deal with that too much,” she said. 

 

“But you have,” I noted. “I want to know if you hear anything in the future. Boys about to disappear. Any of them that match my description.”

 

“Usually a favor is paid with a favor,” Florence said. 

“I’m willing to do one for you now, you know, if you were so inclined to grant me mine,” I said. 

 

“Now this I’ve got to hear,” a woman said with a loud laugh. 

 

“Me too,” Florence said. “Fine kid. If your favor is good enough, I’ll grant it to you.” 

 

I gave her my best smile and leaned back. Lighting up another cigarette I said, “I assume you know the police are watching you.” The women stiffened. Looking to their leader for guidance. I was focused, watching all of their reactions. Florence nodded. “Electrician’s truck up that way.” I pointed. “Shipping truck that way.” I pointed again. “I was curious myself why they would have an interest in you, but with so many guns, I guess it’s not a huge surprise.”

 

Back in the day it wasn’t rare for motorcycle clubs to be watched. Pre-9/11 the government did what it could to stay busy. After the terrorist attack small fries like these guys were mostly left alone. I would use that to my favor. 

 

“What about it?” Florence asked. 

 

“I can help you find your mole,” I said with all the confidence in the world. 

 

“How you going to do that?” She asked. Unbelief in her voice. I didn’t blame her. 

 

“I can smell a rat a mile away,” I said. 

“And where did you come across such a skill in all, what, 16 years of life?” Florence asked. 

 

“14 actually,” I corrected. “Hey, it’s no skin off your nose if I’m wrong. Let me have a look around. I can find your rat in about 5 minutes,” I said. 

 

“Now this, I gotta see,” Florence said. “Fine kid. Let’s see your play.” I stood up. Pulling my revolver out the girls stiffened. I flipped it around, holding the barrel. Handing it to the closest woman I said, “Point this at me.” She looked to Florence. The bald woman nodded. 

She took it gingerly. I watched every facial tick. Every twitch of her eyes or fingers. She pointed it right at my head. She shook more than I would have expected. It took me a bit to realize. She wasn’t comfortable killing a boy. 

 

I let out a sigh. “Brianna, I need your help,” the girl jolted with her name. Grabbing her arm I picked her up. “Point it at her.” The woman was much more willing to point a gun at another woman. I sighed and moved down the line of women. Eventually coming to Florence. She had no problem whatsoever. 

“All of you are clear,” I said. “Let’s get to the big group.” 

 

Walking out into the main part of the bar I let Florence line everyone up. They were confused and reluctant, but Florence was tough. I liked her. I passed the gun to girl after girl. Brianna was their reluctant target. I didn’t care. Some girls would hold it for only a second and I would know. Other’s took me a full 30 to know for sure. I remembered faces and distinguishing marks on all of them. Luckily most had distinctive tattoos showing. 

 

When we had gone through everybody I sat atop the bar and looked at the girls. “You have 2 moles in your presence,” I announced. “One is a fed. The other is wearing a wire.” There was stunned silence as I stared at the girls. 

 

“Who?” Florence asked, reluctantly believing me.

 

“I will tell you tomorrow,” I said. She pulled out her gun and pointed. I faced it easily. Rolling my eyes I said, “What? You gonna kill a boy in broad daylight? You actually trust people don’t know where I am? Besides, one of these moles is wired for sound. They might have people listening in. If you actually do fire the gun they’ll have you dead to rights.” 

Florence cursed. With a groan she slowly dropped the gun. “I will tell you tomorrow,” I promised. “Midnight tonight, really. I am giving the mole and fed until then to get out of here. Also that will give you girls time to move whatever contraband you have here hidden away. Whoever is listening in doesn’t believe I know who the moles are, but I do. 100% certainty.” 

 

Florence was none too pleased. “Hey, you didn’t believe me in the first place, remember. You’re not out any skin if you wait a few hours. The leaks, if they’re smart, will simply disappear. And whatever charges the feds and local PD were hoping to get on you will have to wait.”

 

“Are you serious?” Florence asked. “2 here? How the hell am I supposed to believe you?” 

 

“Believe what you want,” I said bored. Getting off the bartop I dusted myself off. “You all should work on your psychology. People all have bodily tics and unconscious indicators of stuff like this. Feds are harder to find. But if you wait until midnight I’ll tell you the trick to finding them.” I looked to Florence. She let out a long sigh. 

 

“Fine.”

 

“Your number please,” I said. She read it off and I put it in my phone. “Burner I assume?” She nodded. “Perfect. I might have to give you a booty call when our work is done.” She chuckled. I looked her up and down. She wasn’t half bad at all. Who didn’t want a strong woman that ran a biker gang? 

 

“My condoms?” I asked. Florence looked to one of the girls. She ran to the back and came out with a box of condoms. Everything on it was written in Japanese and it had some guy on the front. There was a big bold 100 written on the side. 

 

“Pleasure doing business with you. I’m sure you’ll be happy with my results.” I put my hood up and walked out. Guns in my pockets, condoms in my hands, Brianna followed me quickly.