Wasp

This is a story of one of the people in the Devil Dogs, an arm of the Kinship. The Kinship is a pagan organization that has been around since Christians started killing and absorbing heathen religions. The Devil Dogs is a biker organization that specializes in anti-abuse, working against abusers to bring them to justice. They also do security gigs, Private Investigation and other activities where their military history can be utilized. Most are ex-military, the core that started the club were Marines and Navy SEALS.

This is a work of fiction. Though a name may be real here and there, none of the situations or personalities are real. Nobody you might read about is under eighteen, unless I mention it. Of course, either way, the people in the story are all made up. So, there really isn't any age for any of them. Any parallel to a living person is purely coincidence and totally unintended.

Please, enjoy. If you want to let me know what you think, I am happy to hear it. I love constructive criticisms. I'm not real fond of "YOU SUCK" comments unless they tell me why I suck. I will read them and if they are opinions, I may even leave them on the wall. Just tell me what you think. And VOTE. Please. It all helps me get better.

*****

Winter in the Inland Northwest, for a biker, is a pain. I have a Jeep for the snow, but it just isn't the same. This was the third call for intervention this month. The grey skies and full moon seems to have brought out the crazies. I was wearing my headset, which reminded me of Afghanistan, though tonight I only carried the old hog leg, a Peacemaker number 101. It was my great granddaddy's gun and passed down to me. But mostly, I had my collapsible batons and taser. I'm Wasp, one of the enforcers on the Idaho side of the line. I am a licensed PI and bodyguard. I have a concealed carry permit, though tonight I was open carrying. It was cold though, so I was in long johns, Levis, snow boots and a lined leather jacket, with fingerless gloves and a yellow and black striped wool cap.

Somewhere, on this small piece of property, was a perpetrator. He'd broken in, beaten his ex and tried to get to her new girlfriend. The girlfriend called us and hid. Butch and Mankey and I went to our positions. I got the front door. I always got the face duty. I was Wasp. I have six black belts and I look like a little girl. Well, because I am a little girl, or at least, a smallish girl with a baby face. I rang the bell as Butch went in the garage and Mankey covered the back door.

The door opened, "Hi! I'm Heather! Is Leslie ready?"I said to the guy who opened the door.

"There ain't no Leslie here kid," he said, "You've got the wrong house."

"No, sir, I've been here before," I said, "Leslie, she is about my height, black hair, sweet little body. We're going to see the new Captain America movie. Oh god, is he to die for or what?" I almost squealed at that last bit and he pushed the door as I started moving forward. "I'm sure she's here, I just spoke to her."

He looked shocked then spotted the gun on my hip and reared back. I tased him below the belt, well, okay, on his balls. It never ceased to amaze me how vulnerable men are there. He screamed like he spotted the devil himself and curled to the floor. I looked down at him with his bloody knuckles and the blood on his knee.

"So," I began with my patented line, "There are two types of yellow and black bugs that you might know, the bee, which is cute, pollinates flowers and fruit trees and is innocuous. And then there is the wasp. The wasp doesn't do any of that shit. The wasp is a bitch and a badass. They call me Wasp. Stay the fuck where you are, and I won't hurt you more."

But he didn't. Like a fool, he tried to hit me. I broke his nose and his hand. Then, tears streaming from his eyes, hand all pulled in, he tried a kick. I grabbed his leg, pushed it up and tased his balls again. He flopped like a fish for a couple moments before passing out, still twitching.

"Mankey, front door!" I said and he appeared. Mankey was the king of strange. After he got out of the Army, he let his hair grow and now it was a mass sticking almost straight out from his skull. He was named after a Pokemon, some kind of creature from a game I never played. But he was containment. I heard Butch's voice.

"I have the client here, Wasp," he said and I'd heard that tone before. It was bad. I headed toward the back and heard mewling from a bedroom. I opened the door and there was the ex. He'd beaten her solid. One eye was closed and her mouth was all broken open and swollen. This was Robbie, the abused ex of the perp. She needed an ambulance.

"I have Robbie here, Butch," I said, I knew my voice sounded like his. "Calling an ambulance."

"Make it two, Wasp, and the cops," he said.

I got the ambulance and a patrol car on the way then called Guinness. We called him Guy and he was a friend, supporting what we do. "Guy, it's Wasp. Hey, I am here in town," I said and gave him the address. "we just called for a pair of ambulances and a patrol car. I think we need you out here. These two girls are in bad shape. One might die."

"Fuck Wasp," he said, "Do you know what kind of a pain in the ass you are?"

"Short, hot and white," I said, "Just how you like em?"

"That's dirty pool," he said, "Okay, I'll tell the wife and head over. You couldn't do this earlier in the evening?"

"You know how it goes, Guy," I said, "We get a call, we go running, like the cavalry."

"Why don't these people call 911?" he asked.

"Remember last year, that lady called 911 because someone was hitting her husband? The patrol car arrived and shot the black man, her husband," I said, "And you ask me that question? The police are taking some serious credibility hits right now."

"All right, all right, call it 30-45 minutes. I'll call dispatch and let them know I am coming and not to shoot the bikers." he said then hung up.

I moved to the kitchen, where Butch was looking down at Leslie, our client. He had a kitchen towel pressed in place around the large kitchen knife she had in her side. She looked up at me, her face battered and swollen. "He kept... hitting me... but wasn't... ow... enough. I spit in... ughn... fuckin hurts... in his face... he grabbed the knife... shoved it in me..." her eyes closed and she grimaced in pain, before relaxing her body under Butches direction.

"Don't try and talk," I said. I had met with her, told her it would be alright. Someone lost him. I got the call and then the one from here moments after. It took so long to get here. "I'm sorry, Leslie, I'm so sorry we were late."

"How is Robbie," asked Leslie suddenly, her breathing deepening until it hurt.

"Relax, she is hurt, but okay," I said, "Cops are on the way, we have him tied in the entranceway. This makes me wish I'd tased him a few more times."

"You're not like him," she said in her broken fashion, "Can't we just take that knife out?"

"No, we can't," said Butch, "If we do, you could bleed out before the ambulance gets here. I'm afraid it will be in you until you get to the hospital."

"Fuck, that fucking ass," she said, "It fucking hurts."

I smoothed her face and pushed her hair back, "I know, baby. It won't be long, but it will feel like forever. Hang in there okay?"

She grabbed my hand, "Thank you. Thank you."

"I need to check on Robbie," I said, "I'll be back."

As I passed through the entranceway, he was awake and glaring at me. I pulled out my taser and tested it a few times, then moved toward him. He scooted back against the wall, fear on his face, well, closer to terror really.

"You can't fucking do this," he said, "This is my fucking house."

I squatted down next to him with an evil grin, "No, it isn't. You can lie to yourself all you want, but you were an invader in someone else's home. I just happen to be the weapon she used to defend herself against you. I am within my rights to kill you for trying to escape. Keep it up, and I will. But I think you in prison, well, that sounds better. I have a few friends there too. They like abusers. Well, they like to show them what it is like, to be beaten and fucked then beaten and fucked, all before breakfast. I think I'll have them send pictures of you as their bitch." I touched his inner thigh with the taser, but didn't trigger it. "Look at you, so pretty. I am thinking you won't survive prison."

I stood and walked away. Everything in me wanted to taser him, over and over, make him beg, cry and scream. But I didn't. I was one of the good guys, the cavalry. Robbie was still unconscious in the bedroom. I couldn't cover her or change the scene other than immediate first aid necessary to save her life. This part sucked too. I wanted to comfort her, but I couldn't do that either. I heard a siren in the distance, the ambulance I hoped.

The EMTs arrived and, after a quick assessment, went to work on Leslie. They immobilized the knife and strapped her side and stomach to make it difficult to move and minimize additional trauma. Then, along with a couple of firemen, got her on a stretcher thing and out to the ambulance. The patrol car arrived as they were taking her out and Leslie stopped a police officer.

"Those bikers saved us," she said, "Don't you fuck with them. Without them, we'd be dead."

"Yes ma'am, we know the Dogs here, ma'am." he said and she was mollified.

I went to greet the patrol, it was Wong. "Hey Wong, how goes?" I said in greeting.

"How bad is it, Becca?" he asked me. I huffed immediately. I don't like using my name on the job. "Sorry, Wasp. How bad is it?"

"You saw the knife? Well, the Fire Chief took pictures," I said, "She was the new lover of his ex. He busted in, beat the shit out of the ex, then started hunting her down and beating her. She spit in his face and he grabbed a knife and shoved it in her."

"Fuck, you guys need like yard signs," he said, "Protected by the Devil Dogs."

I ignored his statement and continued, "That's about when we arrived. I knocked, asked for Leslie, that's the new gal, he told me to fuck off, so I entered. I tased him, twice, in the balls."

Wong barked a laugh, then toned it down, "Shit Wasp, that's rich. Okay, is Detective Guinness on the way?"

"He is," I said with a grin, "And none too happy."

"Where is the perpetrator?" he asked.

Wong made the arrest, read him his rights, then put him in the patrol car. Robbie was awake and he took a statement from her, just a few simple questions. Then Guinness arrived with another pair of patrol cars. We gave statements and Guy shared a thermos of coffee with Butch and I, Mankey wouldn't touch it.

"Well, Wasp, this is a clusterfuck," he told me as we leaned against his SUV. "The ex is Burt Chalmers, a high mucky muck for the neo Nazis up north. He moved down here a few years ago to try and expand. He hasn't had much luck, just a few people, but his group is strong and they have some money."

"So, you won't be able to hold him," I said, a bit of disgust in my voice. "After he beat the crap out of two women and stabbed one of them."

"You know politics here," Guy said angrily, "He got two lesbians and stabbed one of them. Shit some of the crooked bastards at the top will tout him as a fucking hero."

"So, can you tell me when you release him?" I asked. "I'll have some talkers come by. I doubt it will help, but we have to follow our own rules."

"I can try," he said. "They don't have to tell me though. I know you have someone at the jail. Maybe that person can keep an eye out."

"I can't risk my resources, but yeah, I'll pursue that," I said.

"I can give you 24, then I will have to charge and book him," he told me.

"I hope I can get the girls out of the hospital by then," I said. "Thanks, Guy. I think you're one of the good guys too."

"Okay, enough mush," he said with a smile, "Now you and your boys, get the fuck off my crime scene. And Wasp, two other things."

I'd started off, then turned back, "Yeah, Guy?"

"You did good tonight," he said, "I sure didn't want a murder investigation right now."

"And the second thing?" I asked

"Damn those jeans look hot on your ass."

"You wishing again?" I asked and started to sashay off.

"You know it, that's why you wore them," he called after me and I threw a smile at him before calling the boys and heading out.

We drove to Benny's and went into his converted barn. It was the local clubhouse. Inside there were six bikes, being stored for winter. Not everyone had a place to keep their bikes and a car. Misty came out and brought a light snack and some beer along with a Mike's Hard Lemonade for me.

"You're in late," she said, "Rough one?"

Misty was kind of a mascot, a success but with the signs of the struggle still on her. Her ex had gone off one night while Benny was there and smashed a hot iron upside her face. Then he turned on Benny. Benny wasn't an enforcer, he was a driver. He was only there to help Misty get out. He got pretty screwed up too, losing an eye in the process. Some of us were already on the way and Buddy knew it was up to him. He became a real hero that day and Misty has been with him every since.

"It was bad," I said.

"He stabbed the new girlfriend," said Butch, "after beating the crap out of them both."

Mankey was smiling, "Wasp stung him, twice, in the balls."

I glared at Mankey but he was unrepentant. "How's the baby, Misty?"

"Daisy is good, so are Rose and Norm," she said, then she folded me into her arms. I looked up at her from the table where I was sitting and she kissed my cheek. I reached up and ran my hand over the burn and groove on her face, a tender reaction that she accepted from me. She kissed me lightly than pulled my head to her bosom and held me.

I felt safe. That is what I got from the Dogs. They are my family. The rest is a blank. All I remember of my past is waking up in a hospital in India. I didn't know who I was, what my name was, where I was from, nothing. I had a head injury. Some insurgents had taken our post and I was found wearing a hatchet as a forehead decoration. The Seals that rescued us killed them all. I wasn't the only one tortured either. There were six other survivors. But I was the only one living a real life.

Misty had sort of adopted me. She was forty and had just had her third kid with Buddy. She was almost old enough to be my mother and she took the job seriously. "Are you okay, baby?" she asked me and I nodded, but held on, nestling in. Butch and Mankey headed out and I went into the house with Misty and into my room. "Do you need some company tonight?" asked Misty.

"Did Buddy get drunk again tonight, Misty?" I asked and she nodded. I stripped down and said, "Not with all those clothes on. You know I get hot holding you when you aren't naked."

"You get hot when I am naked too," she said with a grin as she stripped down to panties and crawled in with me. I spooned up in front of her and fell asleep.

==============================

I woke up alone, no surprise, and feeling rested. The clock said it was almost ten, so I'd gotten a touch over six hours of sleep. I rolled out and slipped into my flip flops then walked into the bathroom. I examined myself in the mirror, then relieved myself and dressed. I moved to the barn, the real center of activity at the club and went to the workout room. Buddy was in there doing some stretches and cool downs while Misty watched him.

"Goddess, I wished someone looked at me like that," I thought, then moved out on to the mat and began my routine. I only knew stuff about myself that I could get from my service jacket. I lived here in Idaho because I joined here and listed no address. But I felt comfortable here. And I found a person that knew me, one of my martial arts teachers. My jacket told me, I have six black belts or mastery degrees in martial arts. Dim Mak a Korean art, Tai Chi'ang, Dragon Kung Fu, Tiger Kung Fu, Ju-jitso, and Spirit Element. My personal effects were found as well and included some diagrams of another art I had called Kirin. It was a combination of my other belts and very soft as they say. The art was focused around Ki usage.

I started out as usual with a standard workout. I did twelve treasures Qi Gong, then moved into some staff and baton work. Once I had worked up a sweat I began Kirin. Kirin included a lot of aerial moves and strikes with multiple limbs. I incorporated head butts as well, since I had a steel plate that made it feasible. Finally, I worked on incorporating my new equipment. I had a new, wrist mounted taser like item. It wasn't as powerful as a taser, but provided a painful shock when I triggered it. A curl of my fist downward and the protruding end would add a shock to the strike. We tested them out and the shock is very painful. The strike is as well, but the addition of the shock is a form breaker. Especially since it doesn't matter where you are hit. If the tine hits you, the shock is delivered.

"Shit, Wasp," said Buddy where he sat holding Misty, "You make that look so easy."

I unstrapped my stings and called him over. "Have you been practicing old man?" I asked him. He grinned and stood up.

"You know I have," he said.

"Okay, I will give you two full minutes to make a touch, then I will touch you," I said, "First touch wins the fall."

He stripped off his loose shirt, leaving just tights and shorts. Not to be outdone, I pulled off my loose top, leaving just my yoga pants and sports bra. He came in and I noticed at least three others moving in to watch from the club area.

Misty had a stopwatch and said, "Ready, go!"

Buddy came in and began his standard reach based attacks. But when I stepped inside, he moved to the side and almost got me. Then it was on and we were in constant motion. He knew he only had two minutes so penetrate my defense and came on strong. I'd been teaching him a bit of Kirin and he used it, along with some of other arts, a little Dragon, a touch of Tiger and then some Crane he picked up somewhere. Then he moved into Drunken, and I almost lost the rhythm. I held on and avoided the touch by less than an inch.

"Time," said Misty and I blurred and touched him three times, solar plex, forehead and throat.

I threw myself in his arms and he hugged me as he gulped air. "Damn, I almost had you, baby girl." he said. If Misty was like a mother, Buddy was like a father to me. "Good to have you home."

"Thanks, pops," I said softly so only he could hear. Buddy was fifty-two and I loved him like a real dad. And, since my jacket had my parents as dead, I acknowledged him as my pops, a kind of dad like being. It made him happy.

"Will you be here for dinner?" he asked, "I have some venison steaks I was thawing. There's enough for you, if you stay." And he looked at me with those baby blues and I caved.

"You know when you ask me like that, I'll stay."

"For the weekend?" he asked and I nodded. He smiled big and he and Misty went in the house.

Crabapple came over with a couple others I didn't know, "Damn Wasp, every time I think I am getting there, I see you and think I'll never be that good."

I hugged him lightly, I had a small problem with closeness, but I knew Crabapple for two of the three years since I came to life. "Hi Nick, who're your friends?"

"Oh hey, Wasp, this is Horseshoe and Flitter, they rode over from the Montana club to see if they could find work," he told me.

Horseshoe was a big man, callused hands, palms not knuckles. He reached out a hand, "Hi, it is Horace, so I prefer Horseshoe, or just Shoe." I grinned and shook his hand. He had a good grip.

Then she was there, "I'm Flitter, because I flitter around so much. I have a ton of energy and there is never enough to do." she said with a huge grin as she held my hand without shaking. She was exuding a desire to be liked and a whole bunch of sexual overtones. I was pretty open to most everything, but I had to work up to a person usually. I'd only done a one night stand once, at least that I could remember. I put my hands on her waist and rubbed first one cheek then the other before stepping back.