Atlanta Extreme by Randy Wayne White

Author:Randy Wayne White
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504024587
Publisher: Open Road Media Mystery & Thriller

twelve

Hawker spent the afternoon in his hotel room resting, reading the material Rehfuss had given him. The carefully written reports went into the vigilante’s mind in bursts of pure data:

Shawn Pendleton, 31, Caucasian male. Seven arrests: four assaults, one armed robbery, one rape, one DWI. One conviction: DWI, fined, released. 6’4”, 220 pounds, black hair, brown eyes, missing two upper incisor teeth, wears dental plate. Occupation listed variously as mechanic, motocross racer, mercenary. Dishonorable discharge U.S. Marines 6-10-69, cowardice under fire in Vietnam. Member Hell’s Angels; Member Atlanta Ghost Riders. Always armed, considered extremely dangerous.

Greg Warren, 33, Caucasian male. Five arrests: four drug-trafficking, one assault, no convictions. 5’11”, 180 pounds, blond hair, blue eyes, tattoo on right arm (American flag with serpent); scar on back right hand. Occupation listed variously as chemist, mercenary, Playboy photographer. Dishonorable discharge U.S. Marines 6-10-69, cowardice under fire. Member Atlanta Ghost Riders. Always armed, considered extremely dangerous.

Hawker read each man’s dossier carefully, storing away information. And he began to get a pretty clear picture of the two men in his mind: pseudosoldiers who couldn’t make it in the real military. Motorcycle tough guys when they had a gang behind them; bullies to whom Wellington Curtis had now given a purpose, a reason to use their strong-arm methods on isolated small-business people of Georgia.

There wasn’t much on their victims in the briefcase, but what there was, Hawker noted carefully. Apparently a few of the victims were banding together to try to fight back. The small group was being organized by a man named Andrew Watkins, a former U.S. senator who had returned to Atlanta and private legal practice after three terms in office. It suddenly dawned on Hawker how he had come to get involved with the Wellington Curtis case. Senator Watkins had probably somehow communicated his problem to Thy Estes, and Thy had contacted Hawker’s friend, Jake Hayes.

The vigilante made a few notes, checked a phone number in the Atlanta directory, then stripped off his clothes. On the way to the shower he took a cold bottle of Stroh’s from the little refrigerator room service had provided, then scalded and sudsed himself for fifteen minutes until a loud tapping at the door sent him scampering for a towel.

“Who is it?”

A woman’s voice. “Mr. Hawker? Are we interrupting? If we are, I can stop back. I left a message, but the clerk said you didn’t pick it up.”

Hawker recognized the voice. He pulled open the door. Senator Thy Estes stood holding a briefcase; big round glasses perched on the bun of red hair; heavy breasts and trim hips primly covered by white blouse and green tweed business skirt and jacket; strong, mature face with high Loretta Young cheekbones and a strong, full mouth. She seemed surprised to see him and stammered, “Oh, James … er, Mr. Hawker. I really didn’t think you would be in. The man at the desk said you weren’t in. I was going to slip this note beneath your door.” She held up the note for inspection.

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