Wendy picked up a landline phone and dialed a number she knew by heart. The phone rang for three rings then, “Hello?” Wendy didn’t say anything back. The voice on the other side said, “Hello Wendy, it’s been a while since you called I was starting to think you stopped.” Wendy took in a breath then said, “I don’t think we are there, yet I just thought that just maybe you could use some time away from my drama.” The voice said, “so you are thinking about it then or is it just because its that time of year?” Wendy looked at the calendar on the wall. It said it was March except it was April and not 2015. Wendy said, “I had one of the members kill a woman and bury her in the desert. Her son was killed in a ricochet when we used a 50-cal to stop a truck.” The voice asked, “why did you do that?” Wendy said, “because she was going to talk about what and who she saw. One of my friends killed himself when he saw what he had done, what I ordered him to do.” The voice asked, “when you went after Darren did you question what you did?” Wendy said, “Jack I didn’t know what to think. Also, just like before.” The voice interrupted her saying, “yes I know you’ll kill me.”
Angie grew up on Venice Beach watching the surfers and weightlifters. Her favorite thing was to watch the bodybuilders work out. She dreamed of a day she could work on a look that would turn heads and open doors. Her mother was a well-known nutritionist, and her father was known as the surfing doc. Arnold Davis worked as an emergency room doctor at night and a surfer by day. Arnie would say he was a surfer that worked as a doctor to pay the bills. He helped people on the beach with medical needs even though it could have hurt his license. Angie’s mother Samantha was tone and fit. Sam became a nutritionist to help with her workout. Both she and Arnie practically lived on the beach, so it only made sense that their daughter would be there. Angie worked out and ate right. She soon found she was garnering attention from all the right people and building a physique that will win awards. Arnie was helping someone on the beach when he was stabbed to death for the drugs in his bag. Sam said she could never go back to the place that her husband died, so she and Angie moved to Napa where Angie met a man named David. She took the name of her father to honor a person that did something good even though it might have been against the law.
Jack Hester didn’t understand he was an addict. It started when he broke his arm playing football. The doctors gave him painkillers that made him feel good until they took them away. Jack’s arm healed, but he found himself daydreaming about the feeling the pills gave him. That was when he met Darren. Outside of the practice field, Darren met with his clients selling whatever they needed. His clients were like Jack, all of them were under the age of fourteen. While Darren liked selling to kids like Jack he preferred his female clients. A thirteen-year-old with an Adderall addiction will do anything for a fix. Jack was fourteen and desperate for his fix. He had some money just not enough for what Darren wanted. One day he had watched as Darren had a girl in his class take off her clothes then Darren had is way with her for the drug she eventually overdosed on.
“Darrel, I just don’t see where the work went,” Wendy said as she looked over the van he spent a week on tearing down and building back up. Darrel smiled and said, “damn right you don’t see it. You don’t see all the carbon fiber replacing the steel or the steel reinforced front end. You can’t see how I added the side door or all the secret storage pockets for guns and ammo.” He demonstrated the Kevlar and carbon fiber pull-up window armor and the hydraulic doors. From behind the van, Sally asked, “what’s with the stick figure family?” Owen said, “well that helps it fit in with the other soccer moms.” Wendy walked around to see a stick figure with a bow in its head spinning on a pole in a sort of dance while other stick figures tossed dollar signs at the dancer. Sally asked, “Pole dancing?” Darrel sighed and said, “just like mom.” Sally shook her head saying, “there is just something wrong with you Darrel.”
Back at the ranch Jill found Scott and nearly tackled him. She kissed him, and he kissed back. She did this in front of everyone in the common room. Cathy looked to Wendy who shrugged her shoulders in a “whatever” gesture that meant they would need a new boy toy from now on. About the time Jill started to unbutton Scott’s pants Wendy suggested they move into one of their rooms. Jill pulled Scott into her room and moved her hand down to his inner thigh then back up to the belt. Scott knew her past, so he knew not to try and force himself on her, or she just might push away and something about this new attitude in her he didn’t want to lose. In the morning he woke up and went back to work on the van but all he could think about was her.
The round flew past the target and down the range eventually burying itself in a mound. Sally just stared at the untouched target wondering how Jill could have missed with every shot while Jill was just happy she didn’t hit herself in the face with the recoil again. Wendy said, “just maybe we should have you train with a different caliber for now. Maybe a 9mm or a 380?” Jill looked down at the colt 1911 in her hand and asked, “you mean there are different kinds?” Cathy pulled her nickel plated Chiappa Rhino 20DS chambered in 357-magnum. She showed Jill how to hold it and work the hammer so she could shoot it in a single action. By the end of the day, they had her with a Smith & Wesson model 360 running 38+p rounds. She also was working with an FN Five-seven pistol, but they told her that they were having a hard time getting the ammunition.
Scott pulled into the shop in a van they bought from a scrapyard. It was an old Toyota Previa that Scott and Darrel plan on stripping down and turning into the next breaching van with a reinforced frontend and Kevlar side panels. The van had only one side that opened so they will retrofit the other side to open. Both sides will have hydraulic arms that will force the doors open quickly. Darrel grumbled as he worked on the new van. He spent a lot of time on the first one only to watch its aftermath on the news. The local news was calling it a gang war. They were interviewing people from outside of the community who would say how terrified they were with all the fighting and guns. They had interviewed a few locals who were happy to see the drug house go. Sally said how the locals didn’t meet the media’s narrative. Scott said, “yeah, its hard to do an anti-gun interview with a grandmother while she is holding her AR15 on her hip with a Colt 1911 on the other.”
Wendy went to a storage room in the main building behind the only lock in the complex. Inside was all the stuff she had from the ranch as well as her life as Tracy. She opened a box and found her AK-74 a cop sold her back in the day. She sat down and stripped the rifle down to clean and oil it. The weapon was all kinds of illegal, from the length of the barrel to the fact that it was full-auto she wasn’t supposed to have the gun. But there was a lot of things she wasn’t supposed to have or do. She put the rifle in a hard side case along with four magazines and left the storage room. The rifle was a reminder of past mistakes and new beginnings. She took the case to her office in the warehouse and mounted it on the wall. Underneath it she put a picture from the ranch of herself, Cathy, Cindy, Scott, Bill, Nancy, April, June, Ruth, Allen, Alice and Max.
This part of the story takes place in the past months before Jennifer/Alice goes to the ranch in the first story. Part four will tie this in along with the talk about Sam in the earlier parts of this chapter.
David Warren sat just outside in his car near a dive bar in a small town in Nevada. He had twenty-five thousand dollars in a bag. He watched as the ATF raided the bar where he was supposed to buy some guns for a project he was putting together. David was a grief counselor in the Napa area of California where most of his clientele have in some way been afflicted by the drug trade. The one takeaway from all his work was just how much money these dealers were making as well as their ability to kill at will. Something about taking a life just made David hard. He thought that it was the strongest form of power. But to do that he would need firepower that couldn’t be traced to him. A few nights before contacting the people the ATF were arresting he had a client kill his dealer using a 22-automatic. David acted as his alibi for the shooting for the price of the gun. He sat there thinking about is options when he remembered this woman he met about a month ago. She had said how she bought a gun illegally and just maybe this Wendy could help him.
Sam stared out his door at the black van that has been parked across the street from his shop for the last two days. He thought that they should just stencil FBI or ATF on the side. He thought how they couldn’t tie him to the ranch or any of the militias working the border so now they will just sit on his shop and watch until either he does something illegal or they find a new target. The gun shop in town was the legal side with a separate place for his less than legal side business. Sam once told a man that, “the second amendment says we have the right to bear arms not we have the right to bare what the government allows us to. Rights with limits are not rights, they are privileges, and they can be taken away. I provide people with freedom and the ability to express that freedom with firepower.” That man turned out to be a narcissistic serial killer who used those guns to kill drug dealers then his own people but all he did was provide the hammer not pull the trigger.