by brett hicks
“I thought you might make an appearance, though I could not be sure.”
He spoke in a calm, and cold tone. His eyes evaluated me and my bloody blade.
“How many of the crew did you kill to get to me?”
I shrugged, and I closed the door behind me. I strode a few steps further, and I finally spoke to him.
“No more than was necessary.”
He nodded, and he smiled a genuine smile.
“You don’t look much like a detective now. You are just like me, only your master’s hide in the wilds of the untamed lands.”
I narrowed my eyes, and I said, “I am no one’s instrument of death, but my own. I would have seen you hang for your crimes, but your Brit officials spared you the proper fate of a murderer.”
He chuckled lowly, and said, “I merely did as I was ordered, as did the fine men who you killed the night your face was forever marred.”
I narrowed my gaze further, and my body stilled unnaturally unmoving, like a predator readying to strike.
“How is it you could piece this together?”
I asked calmly, as dispassionately as his own tone. He smiled slightly, and he said, “Blonde hair, icy Nordic eyes, and heavy skin-colored concealer make-up on only one side of your face. You might blind the layman to your true face, but having seen you strike, I thought of nothing else while sitting in that cell. How could a woman of such common birth lull me to make such a rudimentary mistake? The answer was obvious, she couldn’t, not unless she was something much more than she seemed to be.”
“I see, that much makes sense, but how did you notice the concealer? I had a scarf around my face, and my goggles on at the time?”
He chuckled, and said, “They turned on the lights once they were hauling me off to jail from your apartment. I noticed you had taken the time to wash your face—only your face—before backup arrived, that was curious. I noticed the make-up, but it did not connect to Elise Brown, not until I really thought about everything.”
I sighed, and said, “Well, should I bother asking you where you hide your evidence, or should I just toss your room once you are dead?”
James smiled an easy, even charming smile.
“My foot-locker, at the end of the bed, you will find a journal. None besides myself has seen it, yet. That notebook is why London pulled to have me freed.”
I nodded, and said, “Leverage, in case you were caught, clever. Your government is not worth a single fart in the trust department, after all.”
James chuckled richly, and he did not deny this fact.
“What is that saying, ‘the devil you know.’ I would rather serve the ones who I have spent my entire life surrounded by than to risk the ones who might just as quickly scalp me for being a British citizen.”
I frowned at his logic, and said, “The revolution does not work like that. We have many Brits in our cause, as you have begun to discover.”
“Yes, and you should have been chasing the psychology of a serial murderer, not a Crown blessed mirk-man. Do you believe it is any coincidence you, and your colored partner drew this massive case? They were setting you up for a fall, and to prove that women and coloreds were not fit for the black badge.”
My gut itched at this, he was not lying. I have spent too much time around Teddy Angel, I know how these mirk-men think. They do not bother deceiving when you are facing them at the doorway of death. He truly believes I will be the one to die here, so all I learn should follow me down to hell.
“Are you going to try to call for help?”
I asked calmly, and his smile widened, and something akin to thrill shot through his expression.
“And ruin the chance to see who the better teacher was Dark Horse of the Natives, or the Angel? No, I will meet you honorably, after all, there is such a thing as assassin’s pride. That was what you were counting on with this little plan of yours, no? You are either the craziest foe I have ever faced or the most brilliant.”
“A girl can manage to be both, so are we about done talking? Have you made your peace?”
His smile didn’t slip, and he said, “I have, have you?”
I nodded, and said, “If I die, your word that you will leave Avery alone. She is innocent, and you shall have the head of the Crown’s most elusive assassin to present to London’s fat ruler.”
He thought about it for a moment, and then he nodded.
“I give my word, and I ask you to leave my sister, and my parents in peace in return, just in case.”
I bobbed my head, “I do not bring hells upon the families of the dead, you have my word.”
“Then, en garde.”
He said, and his large gun blade whipped in a fast arc. I barely managed to move my slimmer blade up to parry the assault, then he kicked out with the force of several horses. I coughed, but I managed to hold his blade at bay.
He slashed, then kicked at my joints. I managed to pivot and avoid any damage to my knees. His style was so much more refined than all the Brits I had encountered before him, even the elite bobbies were like bumbling fools at my death-stroke.
He slammed into me with the force of a charging bull, and I slammed against the wall, and coughed, losing most the air from my lungs. I kicked out and pushed him back with my powerful lower-body force. I spun and jump-kicked him in the face. He staggered back a few steps, and then he juked to the side, and my follow-up slash went wide, and I ducked in time for his blade to miss my neck. I felt a few hairs flutter free.
I spun, and I kicked out in a sweep, and he jumped over my legs. He landed on a chair and spun in time to slash out. His blade caught my lower belly at the side, and I widened my eyes a fraction as the hammer cocked back on the massive revolver attached to his gun.
I stared death down the blade and barrel.
Thirty-One:
My mind spun back to the night of my parent’s murders. The barrel, and the explosion that had left me marred for life. I felt my left-hand pluck at the dagger inside my sleeve, and I pushed up with all my might, and the blade tore through more of my gut, as I pushed it free. I threw the dagger, and I aimed for the one spot I have been practicing hitting for more of my life than not.
The dagger wedged between the barrel and the shaft as the hammer struck the metal and the round exploded into James’ chest and face like a small powder keg.
I kicked out, and my adrenaline-fueled my agonized body into action. Someone would come, and soon. James made a gargled sound, and he moved in time to evade a lethal blow to his chest, but my blade wedged deeply into his upper shoulder when it joined to his arm. I pushed all my weight, and I wedged him against the wall of the cabin with my sword holding him in place, then I pulled free my slim and compact nine-millimeter handgun.
“He was right… told me… to run far, to run fast…”
I pulled the trigger, and the thundering explosion of power did nothing to silence his final words. James’s head opened at the back, and he slumped lifelessly to the wall, with my sword the only thing holding him upright. I pulled my sword free, and I sheathed it. I kept my hand-gun out, knowing I would have to make a hasty escape.
I raced over to the locked foot-locker, and I fired a shot into the lock, and it shattered. I opened it, and I plucked free the journals, and I looked, ensuring there was no other paper or form of communication. Nothing but a few changes of clothes, and a dagger with a strange insignia remained.
The door opened, and someone raised a rifle, but I fired off two well-placed shots to his torso, center-mass. I heard thundering foot-falls from many directions, and I swore to myself. I turned, and I looked to James’s view-port window, and I fired three shots into it, shattering the glass, and I ran as several more figures rounded the corner, and I jumped free from the ship. I fell, and I kept falling from a height I barely imagined possible, considering I was half-way down the ship’s full height.
The water was like slamming into a freezing brick wall. I felt my breath flee my body, and I dropped the gun in the p
rocess of recovering my senses. I fought with the tides pulling me out, pulling me back towards the ship. My burning stomach wound was molten agony, as I was constantly assaulted with the salty waters of the Atlantic.
I dove back below the surface, and several projectiles raced near-by. I fought to free myself from my black cloak, and I pressed through the pain, and the spotty vision and I swam hard against the currents.
***
Time began to lose meaning for me, and I was almost certain that I would drown like a rat, or from blood loss. These waters were not notorious for having sharks, but with the bait, I was leaving them, something predatory might come this way.
My life was fading, and my body was breaking at its seams. My arms tired after what seemed like days of swimming, but I knew couldn’t have been more than an hour.
Darkness engulfed me, and I was suddenly back at home in Westwood City.
Mother wore one of her pretty blue dresses, and she fought to get me into a matching dress. I hated the ruffles, and the long lacy affair, even as a child! I felt vulnerable, and my legs felt drafty in the winter!
We were out walking, just spending her free day doing nothing. She loved to go for walks, she loved to enjoy the sights of the natural world around her, and she loved to go to the country lands of the kennel master who bred quality hounds. We both loved the large canine animals.
She looked at me, and her eyes shown with unadulterated parental pride at the sight of her lovely little lady. I was then eleven, and this was but less than a year before she would be sundered from me forever.
“Come now Elise, it’s not that bad! You will learn to understand why it is good to dress in a manner befitting your station.”
I huffed, but I didn’t dare sass my mom in public. She was the first female to run for the position of City Mayor. Westwood was progressive, even though the whole west was also dangerous. Gunslingers and natives roamed out in the open. Even my lady-mother had a large caliber revolver strapped to her hip, and she wore it with her beautiful blue dress. She saw no reason not to be both womanly, and deadly if needed. While I disagreed with the “womanly” part, I wholly agreed with the deadly part.
“Why don’t men wear something cumbersome? It just doesn’t seem fair that they get to wear all the comfortable clothing.”
She smiled at me, and mischief danced in her eyes.
“They have their own worries, my dear, you will learn in time. Come, let us find a good and faithful new watch-dog for our estate. I have such interest in the new imported German Shepard, they are said to be both fierce to dangerous foes and loving and kind to their family. Doesn’t that sound just right for our home, Elise?”
I bit my lip, and I nodded up at my mother. He blonde hair was loose, and it was now streaming along the breeze of the afternoon. She looked like an icy beauty of some fairy story she would tell me. Her blue eyes were so like mine, even if they were a few shades darker, and she beheld me with those eyes, and she seemed to send love to me, even when she said nothing at all.
“Mom, why do yawl think we need a new guard dog?”
I asked in light concern. Dark Horse had been training me for most of my life, so I was no fool. I was eleven, a pre-teen, but a girl grown enough to know that something was changing, that something was wrong. She looked down at me, and I only noticed a slight edge in her look. My mother was an excellent poker player, and she loved to throw a few back, and have a friendly non-profit game with the locals. She had even bested Randal the Hammer, a notorious gunslinger. He had not taken offense to the loss, no, he had laughed and shared around with his future mayor.
Mom was loved by all, except the loyalists—British sympathizers who thought our belief in independence and co-habitation with the indigenous peoples was crazy and treasonous.
“Come on Julia… It’s time for you to wake, you must wake!”
I felt my eyes widen in shock at hearing my faux name on my mother’s lips.
“Remember!”
She said, her eyes pleading, insistent. I frowned up at her, and suddenly, I was looking down at my own mother. She was tall, but I was much taller still. She was five-nine, and I had almost three whole inches on her.
“You have to leave me now, go! Go back, you are not alone anymore!”
My murky mind suddenly collided with the fact that I had last been swimming towards shore in the Atlantic, and then…
***
My eyes opened, and I coughed and hacked. I spit out what seemed like a whole bucket’s worth of salt water. I groaned, and I looked up, and the sun nearly blinded me. I was water-logged, and I was laying on a sandy shore.
My gut protested in agony, and I swore in a tangent to myself. Coughing hurt my wounded lower stomach, but I kept shaking and coughing. My soaked hair clung to my face, and I had to pull it out of my eyes, which were burning, and bleary.
I looked down for the first time at the wound, and it was deep enough to be problematic, but I had managed to evade the lethal strike he had intended to deliver. What I did was so reckless, that I doubted I would have survived such a deranged all-or-nothing assault any number of attempts, if time were to be rewound.
I pulled free a water-tight pouch from my pocket, and I was hit with the heady herbal scent of Dark Horse’s Native wound staunching muck. I packed it into the burning and protesting wound and blood began to slow. After a minute, I managed to completely halt my blood-loss. I always took some basic medical-care products with me on any insane mission, even with the department, but I had never had much use for it, until now.
I heard a noise off in the distance, and I could see the ship turning about slowly off in the ocean. I was not sure how I had managed to float so far away, but they would be back to port soon, and I needed to get to Teddy Angel’s place, just in case I had to take Avery and run. I had the journals in my leather waistband. They were damaged for sure, but they would likely still hold some useful information.
I stood, and I kicked the bloody sand, and I moved it around until you couldn’t spot my landing point on the shore. I was soaked to the bone, and I was about to be very popular, again, but for different reasons.
I could have just sparked the powder keg with the Brits. Elise was likely going to be suspected, my false identity would either save me, or it would lead them right to me. For now, I had to go see Avery.
Thirty-Two:
After a brief stop at my storage unit, I changed back into my usual black leather trousers, and a white collared dress shirt. I had my leather jacket on, and my familiar .357 on my hip again. I had also managed to pack my wound again, and properly clean it with alcohol, which stung worse than the damn salt in the ocean!
Teddy watched me approach, and his eyes held no trace of surprise. He nodded as if silently indicating his comprehension of what my arrival meant for his apprentice. I didn’t bother to hover my hand over my weapon, because I knew Teddy Angel could have killed Avery or held her as leverage against me. He had done neither of those two things, and she was now trying to split wood with his ax. A strange chore to give to a little pre-teen girl, but this was Teddy’s land, so his rules.
“Teddy, thank you for this.”
His lips spread into the barest of smiles.
“It was only fair trade, one day you will understand.”
I frowned at him, and his cryptic message to me. He spoke in spy-worthy code when he had some multi-layered meaning to his messages. They often did nothing but piss me off and confuse the hell out of me!
Teddy looked down, and I thought I had done a masterful job of hiding my wounded state from him, and from Avery.
“Come inside, we will attend to James’ handiwork, and I shall see if he has done any lasting damage.”
Teddy looked to Avery, who was wide-eyed at my arrival. I felt my heart stir and my gut clench at the sight of the bright hazel-eyed brunette girl. She was radiance, even sweaty, and tired from her laborious chores.
“Girl, finish with the wood before it gets dark, then y
ou can come in for a nice meal.”
She looked at Teddy, and back at me, then she nodded reluctantly. I winked to her, and her lips formed a ghost of a smile.
“Come, that will keep her busy for a while.”
“Do I even want to know why Avery is splitting your firewood?”
He chuckled, and said, “She told me she wanted to learn how to fight properly. I told her that her first task was to put some muscle on those boney arms of hers.”
I blinked, and I looked shocked.
“You do realize that she views your government as her mortal enemy now?”
Teddy shrugged, and said, “Who am I to blame a child for taking action, or for her justifiable hatred after the loss of a parent?”
I felt something in that statement, it was somehow directed towards me as well as Avery. Teddy lead me into his modest ranch-style home, and I looked around, assessing the objects, and the rooms as I had been trained.
“How long have you known who I really was?”
I asked calmly once I was sure we were out of Avery’s range of hearing, with a house between us. Teddy didn’t even blink or try to deny this fact that settled between us. He made a gruff sound, and he gestured to a chair at his kitchen table.
“Sit down Elise, I will patch you up.”
My heart stuttered at this man, the very personification of colonial death calling me by my given name.
“How long?”
I asked again, and he huffed and gestured towards the seat.
“Sit the hell down ye bloody stubborn child. If I were going to kill your skinny self, I would have right and done it by now!”
I huffed, and I shot him a stubborn scowl. I sat down, and I eyed him with an edge of defiance playing in my gaze.
“I knew you the moment you walked into The Irish Rose for the first time as a rookie officer fresh from your training. You might not remember this, but I have met you before, back when you were a child. Not a single set of eyes since that day have been as chilly ice-blue as yours. You are a very striking young lady, as was your mother before you.”