Chapter 194

The RV pulled into the parking lot of the Jupiter Diner. Three armored SUVs formed a protective circle around it. Louis spoke through the comms. “Captain, help yourselves to order breakfast. We’ll stay here for a while.”

“Copy that, sir,” Yamamoto said. “My men will appreciate it.”

One SUV left the convoy and drove up to the drive-through. Olivia’s car parked across the street. Louis focused on the laptop screen. Maeve had parked her Ducati in front of the Big Sky Beef office. The office was a small, one-story building with a faded sign showing a cartoon bull. She took off her helmet and walked to the door. She adjusted her leather jacket and knocked.

The door opened. A tall fat man with a bald head and a graying beard stood in the doorway. He wore a grease-stained T-shirt and jeans. He looked Maeve up and down.

“Maggie Mayflower?” he asked. “From Nevada?”

“That’s me,” Maeve said. “You Hank?”

“That’s me,” Hank said, already sounding frustrated. “Hell of timing for you to show up, Mayflower.”

“Why’s that?” Maeve asked, her voice flat.

“Why’s that?” Hank repeated, stepping aside. “Come on in and see for yourself.”

Maeve walked into the office. The room was small and messy. Papers were scattered on the floor. Hank pointed at the phone.

“Calls, that’s why,” he said. “I’ve got three trucks sitting out there, dead as doornails. The delivery to Yellowstone was supposed to leave at eight. I got every mechanic in three counties on the phone, and every single one of ’em is on a plane to Vegas. Can you believe that shit?”

Maeve feigned surprise. “Vegas? All of them?”

“Every damn one,” Hank said, running a hand over his face. “Got some travel people showed up at their houses in the middle of the night. All expenses paid. Won a prize. Who the hell wins a prize for being a mechanic?”

“Damn,” Maeve said, looking around the office. “I want that too.”

“Yeah, well, good for them. Bad for me,” Hank said, looking at her. “So. You say you can fix ’em?”

“I said I’m the best there is,” Maeve said. “Let’s see them.”

Hank snorted and led her out the back door into a gravel lot. Three refrigerated semi-trucks were parked, their trailers emblazoned with the Big Sky Beef logo. Two of them had their hoods open. A burly driver in a ball cap was kicking one of the tires.

“I told you not to do that, Dave!” Hank yelled.

“Not helping,” Dave said. “The engine won’t turn over.”

“Told you that already,” Hank said. He turned to Maeve. “This is Dave. This is the truck he’s supposed to drive to Yellowstone.”

Dave looked at Maeve. “You the mechanic?”

“I’m the mechanic who’s gonna get you on the road,” Maeve said. “Let me see.”

She walked over to the truck and opened the driver’s-side door. She climbed into the cab and turned the key. The engine was silent. She got out and opened the hood. She looked at the engine.

“See anything?” Hank asked.

A Dominion Guard spoke over the comms. “It’s the fleet immobilizer.”

Louis exchanged a glance with Willa.

“I see a truck that needs some love,” Maeve said, her voice flat. “You have tools? A workshop?”

“This is the workshop,” Hank said, pointing to a small metal building in the corner of the lot. “I have some basic tools. But not much else.”

“Show me,” Maeve said.

Hank led her to the workshop. It was cramped, filled with old tools and spare parts. Maeve looked around. “This is sad,” she said. “Very sad.”

She picked up a wrench and looked at it. “This is a sad wrench too.”

“It’s a sad day, Mayflower,” Hank said. “So, can you fix ’em or not? Because I got a schedule to keep.”

Maeve looked at him. “I can fix anything. But it’s gonna cost you.”

“I figured that,” Hank said. “How much?”

“A hundred dollars an hour. Plus parts,” Maeve said.

Hank’s eyes widened. “A hundred dollars an hour? That’s robbery.”

“That’s my rate,” Maeve said. “Take it or leave it. I’m sure you can find someone else. Oh wait, you can’t. They’re all in Vegas.”

Hank sighed. “Fine. A hundred dollars an hour. But you have to fix them first. And fast. I have a delivery to make. A very important delivery.”

“I work fast,” Maeve said. “And I’m good. That’s why I’m expensive.”

“Alright,” Hank said. “Show me what you got.”

Maeve put down the wrench and walked to the first truck. She opened the hood and looked at the engine again. Louis looked at the screen. He saw the engine through her left eye. Maeve took out a small flashlight from her jacket and examined the engine closely. Then she closed the hood.

“So, what’s the problem?” Hank asked.

“Engine looks fine to me,” Maeve said, her voice flat. “I have to check the electronics.”

Louis said through the comms. “Don’t be too fast, Mae-Mae. Make him think it’s hard.”

She got into the cab again and opened the panel under the steering wheel. She looked at the wires. “Hmm.”

“What?” Hank asked, leaning against the door.

“The wiring is a mess,” Maeve said. “Looks like a rat’s nest.”

“Can you fix it?” Hank asked.

“I can,” Maeve said. “But it’s gonna take a while. And it’s gonna cost you extra.”

“How much extra?” Hank asked.

“Two hundred dollars an hour,” Maeve said. “For electronics work. Plus parts.”

Hank’s jaw tightened. “You’re a real piece of work, Mayflower.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who needs me,” Maeve said. “So, are we gonna do this or not? Because I was thinking maybe I should join the mechanics in Vegas. It sounds like a good party.”

“Fine,” Hank said, sighing. “Two hundred dollars an hour. Now fix the damn truck.”

Maeve smiled. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Louis laughed. “She’s a shark. I love it.”

“Be careful, Maeve,” Willa said, looking at the screen. “Don’t push him too far.”

“She knows what she’s doing, Willa,” Savannah said. “She’s a pro.”

Maeve got out of the truck and went to the workshop. Hank and Dave followed her. She looked at the shelves. “So, what’s the delivery? You’re taking beef to Yellowstone?”

“That’s right,” Hank said.

“What for?” Maeve asked, picking up a screwdriver. “A restaurant? A grocery store?”

“Not your business, Mayflower,” Hank said. “Just fix the trucks.”

“Just making conversation, Hank,” Maeve said. “You seem like a man who likes to talk.”

“Not when my trucks are broken,” Hank said. “I like to talk when they’re running.”

“I understand,” Maeve said. She picked up a pair of pliers. “Do you have a soldering iron? And a multimeter?”

“Yeah, I have that stuff,” Hank said, pointing to a toolbox in the corner.

Willa stared at the screen. “Ask him about Jed,” she said.

Maeve found the soldering iron and the multimeter. She looked at Hank. “I heard about a driver named Jed. He drives for you, right?”

Hank stared at her. “Where’d you hear that name?”

“Met him at a bar last night. He said you fired him. So I figured you might be looking for another driver.”

Hank studied her for a moment. “How drunk was he?”

“Pretty damn drunk.”

“What exactly did he tell you?”

Maeve shrugged. “That he drove refrigerated trucks, that you fired him, and that you’re an asshole. Mostly he complained.”

“Sounds like Jed,” Hank said. “He couldn’t keep his mouth shut or his hands off the bottle.”

“That’s a shame,” Maeve said. “He seemed like a nice guy.”

“Nice guys finish last, Mayflower,” Hank said. “And they get fired.”

“So, who’s gonna drive this truck to Yellowstone?”

“Dave will drive it,” Hank said. “Now, are you gonna fix it or not?”

Maeve looked at the truck. “Patience, Hank. I’m not a magician. This takes time.”

“Time is money, Mayflower,” Hank said. “And I’m losing a lot of both.”

“Ask him about the business,” Willa said. “Start with generic questions.”

“What’s the business like, Hank?” Maeve walked back to the truck and got under the chassis with a flashlight. “Must be tough, delivering meat to the middle of nowhere.”

“It’s tough,” Hank said, leaning against the truck. “But it pays the bills. Most of the time.”

“I bet you have a lot of competition.”

“Not really,” Hank said. “Not for these routes. Most other companies don’t want to go that deep into the backcountry. Too many risks. Bears. Bad roads. Bad weather.”

“Sounds like fun,” Maeve said, sliding out from under the truck. “I like bears.”

“Yeah, well, bears don’t like you,” Hank said. “Especially when you have a truck full of beef.”

Maeve laughed. “I guess not.” She looked at Hank. “So, what kind of beef is it? Prime? Choice?”

“It’s good beef,” Hank said. “All natural. No hormones. No antibiotics. The best in the region.”

“Really? Can I have a steak?” Maeve asked, grinning.

Hank stared at her. “You’re a strange one, Mayflower.”

“I’m a hungry one, Hank. So, how about a steak after I’m done? On the house. As a bonus.”

Hank sighed. “Fine. If you fix the trucks, I’ll give you a steak. Now get to work.”

Gladice laughed. “He’s getting fed up. I like it.”

“She’s pushing him hard,” Willa said. “It’s risky.”

“It’s working,” Savannah said. “He’s desperate. And he’s starting to talk.”

Maeve went back to the cab of the truck. She opened the panel again. “So, how much beef do you deliver to Yellowstone? A lot, I bet.”

“It’s a big order,” Hank said. “One of our biggest.”

“Do they have a restaurant there?” Maeve asked, her voice casual. “If so, I’d love to try it.”

“Not your business, Mayflower,” Hank said.

“I’m just curious, Hank,” Maeve said. “I like good food.”

“It’s not a restaurant, Mayflower,” Hank said, looking around the lot. “It’s a private ranch. And they like their privacy. So, don’t go asking too many questions.”

“Shame,” Maeve said. “I was hoping for a good meal in Yellowstone. I heard it’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Hank said. “But I don’t have the luxury to enjoy the view. I have a job to do. So do you.”

“I’m doing it, Hank,” Maeve said, her fingers working on the wires. “Don’t rush me. Rushing leads to mistakes. And mistakes cost more money.”

“Just hurry up, Mayflower,” Hank said. “I’m losing my patience.”

“I’m almost done with this one,” Maeve said.

A guard’s voice came over the comms. “The reset code is 7-3-1-1-9. The engine should start after that.”

Maeve took out a screwdriver and pried open a plastic cover under the dashboard. The fleet immobilizer had been buried behind the lower dash, wired between the truck’s factory controls and the starter authorization system. The device was a small black box with a single LED, currently red. She typed the code on a tiny keypad. The LED turned green. She turned the key in the ignition. The engine rumbled to life, the sudden sound making Hank jump.

“It’s running,” Maeve said, her voice flat. “Told you I’m good.”

Hank stared at the engine. “How did you do that?”

“A magician never reveals her secrets, Hank,” Maeve said, getting out of the truck. “Now, let’s look at the next one.”

Hank looked at his watch. “It’s nine-thirty already.” He turned to the driver. “Dave, get in the cab and get the truck ready to go. I’ll see what Maggie can do with the other two.”

Willa spoke over the comms. “Tell him the truck is still not fixed. That it’s a temporary solution.”

Maeve looked at the truck and then at Hank. “This is a temporary fix. The truck may break down again in a few hours. I need to replace some parts to make it last longer.”

“I can’t have it breaking down on the way to Yellowstone, Mayflower,” Hank said. “Not now. Not today.”

“Then you’ll need someone to ride with Dave,” Maeve said. “Someone who can fix it on the road if it breaks.”

Hank’s face tightened. He looked at the truck, then at Maeve, then at Dave. “Are you available for that, Mayflower?”

“I might be,” Maeve said. “If you keep paying me two hundred dollars an hour. Plus the steak.”

“Fine,” Hank said, sighing. “You’ll ride with Dave. You’ll get a steak when we get back.” He paused. “Follow Dave’s orders. Don’t ask questions. Don’t take photos. And don’t talk to anyone at the ranch. Got it?”

“Got it, Hank,” Maeve said. “Just make sure the steak is prime.”

“It will be,” Hank said. “Now, get your things. You’re leaving in five minutes.”

“What about the other two trucks?” Maeve asked, looking at them.

“I’ll call someone else,” Hank said. “Maybe I can find a mechanic in Montana who didn’t win a trip to Vegas.”

“Good luck with that, Hank,” Maeve said. “Now, my money for the work I already did.”

Hank pulled a wad of cash from his pocket. “How much?”

“Three hundred,” Maeve said. “For fixing this one.”

Hank counted out the bills and handed them to her. “Here.”

Maeve counted the money. “It’s all here. Good.” She looked at Dave. “Let’s go.”

Dave nodded and got in the truck. Maeve got in the passenger seat. Hank watched them, then turned and went back to his office. Dave started the engine and drove the truck out of the lot.

A guard’s voice came over the comms. “The tracker is active. We have the location.”

Louis looked at the laptop screen. He saw the road through Maeve’s eye. “Good work, Mae-Mae. You did it.”

“I’m the best,” Maeve said.

Dave glanced at her. “You talk to yourself, Maggie?”

“It’s called self-affirmation, Dave. You should try it sometime,” Maeve said. “Might help with your mood.”

Dave grunted and kept driving. “Let’s just get this over with.”

They drove out of Ashton and onto the highway. Louis spoke through the comms. “Captain, we’re following the truck. Keep your distance. Keep an eye on Agent Powell too.”

“Copy that, sir,” Yamamoto said.

“And get her Ducati back to the RV,” Louis added. “It’s her favorite bike.”

“My team will take care of it, sir,” Petrov’s voice came over. “It’s a nice bike. I’ll drive it myself.”

“Appreciate it, Sergeant,” Louis said.

A few minutes later, Louis saw Petrov ride the red Ducati up and stop beside the RV. Several guards loaded it into the RV’s cargo bay. Petrov gave Louis a thumbs-up and went back to the SUV.

Louis watched the screen. “Your bike’s safe, Mae-Mae.”

“Hmm,” Maeve cleared her throat.

Dave looked at her. “What?”

“Just thinking,” Maeve said. “About how should I cook the steak Hank promised me.”

Dave grunted. “Rare.”

“Medium for me,” Maeve said. “I like it juicy, but not bleeding.”

“Whatever,” Dave said.

The RV started moving. Louis watched the road through Maeve’s eye. They were already miles ahead of their convoy. He saw the dashboard. The GPS was off. Dave was driving from memory.

“Doesn’t this thing have GPS, Dave?” Maeve asked.

“Yep,” Dave said. “But we don’t use it for this route. Hank says it’s not safe. Signals can be tracked.”

“By who?” Maeve asked.

“Just don’t use it, Mayflower,” Dave said, his voice tight.

“Fine,” Maeve said. “So, you know the way?”

“I do,” Dave said.

“Must be a lot of turns,” Maeve said, looking at the road.

“It is,” Dave said. “But I’ve been there before. Many times.”

“Is it a nice place?” Maeve asked.

“It’s a place,” Dave said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Maeve asked.

“Just what I said,” Dave said. “It’s a place.”

Louis exchanged a glance with Angelique. “That must be the farm.”

“I think so too,” Angelique said.

Maeve looked at Dave. “You’re not a talker, are you, Dave?”

Dave shrugged. “Not much to talk about.”

“Maeve, don’t push him too hard,” Willa said. “Let him talk when he’s ready.”

Maeve cleared her throat again.

“What now?” Dave asked, looking at her.

“I’m thirsty,” Maeve said.

“There are some bottles in the cooler,” Dave said, pointing to a small fridge behind the seats. “Help yourself.”

Maeve opened the cooler. She took out a bottle of water and drank half of it. “Thanks.”

Dave nodded without looking at her.

Louis looked away from the screen and looked at the women. “We’ll need a plan for when we get there.”

“Do you think they’ll have guards?” Donya asked.

“Probably,” Angelique said. “If it’s the Common Roots, they’ll be prepared.”

“We have more firepower,” Savannah said.

“They might have hostages,” Angelique said. “The girls. We have to be careful.”

“So we wait,” Louis said. “Until Maeve finds them and confirms the location.”

“Then what?” Gladice asked.

“Then we get them out,” Louis said. “No matter what.”