Blood Lines by Mel Odom Page B

headquarters in Camp Lejeune.
    Remy pulled the earpiece connector from his shirt pocket, slipped it into his ear canal, and tapped it to open the line. “Gautreau.”
    â€œRemy.” It was Will’s voice, calm and intense at the same time.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œWe just got word from Charlotte PD that the FBI is on-site at your twenty.”
    The sound of running feet echoed down the alley.
    â€œOh yeah,” Remy agreed. “They’re here.”
    â€œWhere’s Shel? He’s not answering.”
    â€œShel’s inside.” Remy tried the back door. It was locked.
    â€œWhat’s going on there?”
    Remy watched helplessly as four men entered the alley from either end. They carried flashlights and military-style assault rifles.
    â€œPut the pistol on the ground!” one of the arriving men yelled. He wore an FBI jacket over his bulletproof vest. “Do it now!”
    â€œYou might want to get hold of the FBI,” Remy stated calmly. He let his pistol drop to hang from his finger. “Let them know that you’ve got two men out here working this.”
    â€œThey know,” Will said. “Maggie’s already sent them copies of your photo IDs.”
    â€œGood to know,” Remy said. But it didn’t make him feel any better.
    The four FBI agents locked into position along the alley.
    â€œDrop the gun!” the man bellowed again.
    Ruby lights glowed to sudden life against Remy’s chest. He knew he was only a heartbeat from death. Carefully he bent over and placed the pistol on the pavement and awaited further orders even though he was pretty sure he knew what they would be.
    â€œGet on the ground!” the man ordered. “On the ground now! Facedown! Hands on top of your head!”
    Remy followed orders and took care that his hands were always outstretched from his body so they wouldn’t think he was reaching for a weapon. His heart felt like it was going to explode.
    Memories of other times he’d been arrested back in New Orleans flashed through his mind. It was hard to believe that he was going to survive such an encounter when there had been so many close calls back then.
    The rough pavement chewed at his cheek. He had to force himself to lie there when footsteps pounded in his direction. In the next instant someone blinded him with a flashlight beam while someone else jumped in the middle of his back and raked his arms behind him.
    Hard metal bit into his wrists and secured his hands behind his back.
    â€œI’m with NCIS,” Remy said. “My ID—”
    Someone punched him in the back of the head and snarled, “Shut up.”
    â€œHang in there, Remy,” Will said over the earpiece. “We’ll get you out of there as soon as we can.” Then one of the FBI agents stripped the earpiece.
    Blood from a split lip tasted warm and salty inside Remy’s mouth. He shut up and stayed where he was as he was roughly frisked. But he hoped Shel was still safe.

    >> 2035 Hours
    Slowly, not offering any sudden movement that might panic Bobby Lee Gant, Shel raised his arms. “Hey, bro,” Shel said. “I don’t know what you’re smoking, but I just came in to check out tattoos.”
    â€œWho is he?” Bobby Lee demanded.
    The young woman behind the counter shook her head. “He just came in. He was asking about tattoos.”
    â€œBobby Lee!” the big man from the back room roared.
    Shel recognized the man from the file Remy had downloaded. His name was Ralph “Spider” Gemmell, a known associate of biker clubs.
    Bobby Lee swiveled and pointed his pistol at Spider. “Back off, man!”
    Spider came to an abrupt halt. “You don’t want to do this, bro. It’s gonna end bad if you do.”
    â€œI ain’t going to jail!” Bobby Lee screamed. His eyes rolled in panic like an animal’s. “They ain’t gonna take me to