The two roommates trailed the man, and when he stopped to ask directions on how to get out of the district, that cemented it. This was their target. They were getting close to the outer river walk and the bridge, so they had to move.
They picked up their pace. They were still 10 meters in back of the man as he came within sight of the Riverwalk.
“Hey!” Tamara called out.
The man, the Marine, turned around. “I was wondering when you two were going to say something,” he said in his off-world accent.
“What do you mean?” Tamara asked, using the time to close the distance.
“Well, you’ve been following me since the café.”
“Well, did you have to make it that difficult for a girl, then?” she asked, reaching out to take one of his hands in hers.
“Difficult is all relative, don’t you think? Anyway, I’m afraid that as much as I find the both of you fine specimens of Kauregan womanhood, whatever you had planned won’t come to fruition.”
Specimens” Michi thought as she maneuvered in back of the man, just off his right shoulder. I’ll show him “specimens.”
The man gently disengaged his hand from Tamara’s as she started to protest. He cut her off. “Look, I’m trying to be polite, but whether you’re looking for some fun or you’ve got some scam going, it isn’t happening tonight. So why don’t you two—”
Whatever he was going to say was lost as Michi’s roundhouse kick connected solidly on the side of his head. Michi could feel the force jolt up her leg, and she reveled in the power of it.
Only, the Marine didn’t go down. He staggered a step into Tamara, then spun around.
This time, Michi was not going to be caught just looking. She was surprised he was not down yet, but she launched into a back kick. The Marine whipped up his arm and deflected it, knocking Michi off balance.
“So that’s your game, girlies. Not a smart move. I don’t have many credits on me, so even if you could get them, I don’t think it would be worth the effort, so what say you two just turn around and find someone else to rob.”
The way he just stood there, not even protecting himself, infuriated Michi, and she suddenly spun into a spinning back fist, anxious to smash his smug face. Only his face wasn’t there as she came around. His right fist was, however, swinging into a short uppercut to Michi’s chin, stunning her. She went to one knee, fighting to get back up.
The Marine wasn’t following through. He stood there, looking down at her with a look of, could it be pity?
“No one pities me!” she screamed as she struggled to her feet.
The Marine suddenly sprouted an extra pair of arms, it seemed to Michi’s still-fuzzy mind. It took her a moment to realize that Tamara had launched herself into the fray, and just as quickly, the Marine had thrown her off to crumble into a heap against the wall of the building beside them.
“Have you had enough?” the Marine asked her.
With a wordless shout, Michi rushed the man, wanting to tear him apart. Forget about Cheri telling them that this was to be a simple mugging—she was going to kill him.
His resigned look and the big fist coming at her face were the last things Michi remembered.
Chapter 18
Michi rang the buzzer, and a few moments later, the door opened. She climbed the steps to the third floor and opened the door to Apartment G. A small counter blocked her way, a 30-something man leaning over it, looking at her expectantly.
“You Seth MacPruitt?” she asked.
“Yeah, and who might you be, angry young woman?” he answered.
He was observant, at least. Michi was angry. More than that, she was humiliated. It had been a day since they had tried to jump the Marine, and the bruise on her face still showed. She hadn’t gone to a doctor, so she had to rely on NovaSkin, which was great for small cuts, but didn’t work as well with subcutaneous bleeding.
The bruised face meant nothing, though. It was her pride that had been damaged. She had been so sure of herself, and even with complete surprise, she had gotten her ass whipped. Worse than that, she was still free.
Oh, she was glad she hadn’t woken up in jail. But the fact that the Marine hadn’t even considered them enough of a threat to call the jacks was the utmost degree of disrespect. No, not disrespect. That, at least, required that the Marine thought something of them. He just didn’t care. They were nothing.
“My name really isn’t important right now. I hear you still do MMA training.”
“Which would explain the mats and punchin’ bags behind me,” he said.
Seth MacPruitt was First Family, even if the MacPruitts were considered somewhat on the low end of the Clan totem pole. But as a young man Seth had managed to win not one, but two Kakurega MMA championships and had even taken runner up at the sectional tournament. The fact that he had then joined the Marines had given Michi pause, but the rumor was that he left the Marines on less-than-favorable terms.
“Well, given the fadin’ bruise on your face, I’d be sayin’ you’re here to get some revenge on a beatin’. The thing is, I don’ take on no wannabes.”
“I can fight,” she protested.
“Not well enough, evidently.”
“Look, I can’t pay you much,” Michi started.
“You’re Clan, cousin, I can smell it on you. And you can’t pay much?”
MacPruitt and Michi were not related, as far as she knew, but some Clan liked to call each other cousin as a sort of endearment. MacPruitt, though, used it sarcastically, as if to emphasize their different positions in life.
“Uh, well, I’m sort of on my own now,” Michi admitted.
“Ah, you pissed off your family? Interestin’. Maybe you’ve got some balls, girl. Tell you what. Hop around the counter, and let’s roll around on the mat. Let me see what you’ve got.”
Michi walked around the counter and started to step onto the mat when Seth stopped her. “Take off those Clodders. I don’t need you tearing up my mat. There’s a locker room in the back. Get dressed, then we’ll see.”
As Michi crossed the worn mat, she saw various photos on the wall, some of Seth in action, several at awards ceremonies, and one of him teaching what had to be Marines. There was even his discharge certificate framed and on the wall. Was she coming to the enemy for help?
She was changed and back in a few moments, standing in front of the relaxed Seth. She came to the balls of her feet, ready for whatever he might have for her.
“Well, don’t waste my time, girl, show me you’re worth it.”
Michi immediately launched into a superman punch, knee up to change to a kick if the opportunity presented itself. She was taller than Seth, and the superman punch was a good way to close the distance.
In an instant, she brought her fist down towards his nose, and an instant later, she was on the mat, her right arm being extended and cranked back.
“Tap, tap!” she shouted, using her left hand to tap Seth’s back.
He let her up while she tried to shake out the strain on her arm. “You done?” he asked her.
In response, she flicked out with a front kick, which barely touched his chest. She hopped up to come down with an axe kick, which he easily batted away before dropping down and punching her between the legs. The punch hit her squarely in the crotch, and pain flooded her senses. With a shout, she dove at him, grabbing him and driving him back, striving to mount him so she could get to the ground and pound. She felt a momentary thrill as she felt him go down, but somehow, he ended up on top, and within moments, she was in a crucifix, pinned.
He didn’t pummel at her, as she expected, but he thrust his pelvis into her face once before letting her go and looking at her expectantly.
She felt the radge start to rise, but she fought it down. She knew his little balls-in-the-face was an attempt to get her to lose it. It would take more than that to get to her, she promised herself.
She stood back up, brought her fists up, and started circling, leaving anger
and emotion to focus on technique. She thought she saw Seth slightly nod as he closed in. They sparred for another 20 minutes, giving and taking, although Michi was taking much more. She managed to reverse Seth once, and she caught him with an elbow, but that was about it. If he’d wanted to, he could have destroyed her, she realized.
He called a halt, walked over to an old, beat-up fridge, and pulled out two waters, throwing her one. She gratefully took it, trying to drink between heavy breaths.
“Well, you ain’t very good, are you?” he asked.
She started to protest, but he held up a hand and continued, “But you’re ungodly strong, and you’re aggressive. You’ve got some potential. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but come around at 3:00 tomorrow, and we’ll see what we can do. Pay me what you can, and if it ain’t enough, you can clean up the place after, give it a good scrubbin’. Deal?”
Michi wasn’t a maid, and cleaning wasn’t her thing. And she owed him for the crotch shot, which still hurt. But she needed to get better, and this was her best shot.
“Deal,” she said as she shook his hand.
Chapter 19
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Michi said as she looked in the mirror. She had on her own face, but she was very unsure of the outfit Tamara and Cheri had come up with.
“Look, this top is about five sizes too small,” she told them, trying to stretch it out to give it more coverage.
“We went over this, Michi, dear,” Cheri said. “The Federation government and military are the last bastions of misogyny. Women need to be protected, so they say, and that keeps us from all the opportunities offered men. If you, as a woman, take down one of theirs, that should shame them.”
“I get all of that, and I agreed to this mission, but why do I have to look like an exotic dancer? I’m not comfortable with that at all.”
“Suck it up, big girl. ’Sides, we need there to be no doubt in anyone’s mind that it’s a sister doing the deed, and your twins there are going to take care of that,” Tamara said.
“Easy for you to say. You’re not going,” Michi grumbled.
“First, I don’t have the assets you do, and second, I’ve got to be at work. Someone’s got to pay the bills around here.”
“I . . . but what about the boots? And the gloves? How can I fight in these things?” she asked, pointing at the thigh-high faux-leather boots Cheri had brought.
“I told you, this time, you won’t be fighting. I’ve got the three guys to meet you there, and they’ll do the restraining. You’ve just got to look fierce and deliver the message,” Cheri started.
“But—”
“If you feel uncomfortable in them, we’ll fix them after. But we’ve got to strike now before one of them gets tired of the other.”
“Them” was Marine Lance Corporal Thane Regent and Kelli Mae Osterson, a local girl hired as a food service contractor to help feed the Marines. The two had managed to hook up, and they were meeting every Monday and Wednesday afternoon at her apartment for a discreet liaison; only it was not so discreet that Cheri and the WRP had not found out.
The decision had been made to break into their little tryst, capture the Marine, and record a message for distribution. The decision had also been made that the person doing the recording was to be female, and Cheri had volunteered Michi without revealing her identity.
Cheri had come over to the condo the evening before to set it up, telling them that this was a better plan than trying to jump a Marine somewhere. Michi and Tamara hadn’t batted an eye at that. None of the three involved had told Cheri about their disaster the week before.
Tamara mentioned the need for a “look,” and with Cheri quickly on board, the two of them concocted this warped fantasy outfit.
Michi took a deep knee bend. The boots restricted her flexibility.
“Uh, that might be a little revealing, I guess,” Tamara said, pointing to Michi’s ass as she squatted.
Michi jumped up, pulling up on the back of the low-riding pants.
“Don’t worry, we’ll fix that, too. For a first try, though, you look pretty bitching, if I say so myself.”
“Michi, we’ve got to go. Just follow the plan. I’ve got the overalls over there on the table. Be sure not to take them off until you are in the building, and don’t put them back on until you are on the roof. Doug is sure he can control any overhead surveillance and inside the building, but not all the security cams in the area.”
Both Tamara and Cheri kissed her on the cheek.
“Kick some ass,” Tamara said as the two left for their jobs.
Michi sat down, feeling alone. She turned on the holo and tried to watch a show on how T-cells were replicated to fight the constantly evolving virus threats, but she couldn’t focus. She got up and practiced some of her kicks with the boots on. Her favorite roundhouse was doable, but some of the others would be difficult and less than effective.
At 10:00, she fixed some soup, but she could only finish half of it. She threw the rest out, then called Seth to tell him she was not feeling well and would miss that afternoon’s session.
She regretted that. In only a week, she felt that she had really progressed. She was earning the increased skill, though. Seth was not holding back, and each lesson was a journey into pain.
The day crept on, but finally, it was time. She slid on the blue company overalls worn by utility teams. PI Services was not part of the company proper, but rather a purportedly independent spin-off that managed the water, sewage, and power for the planet. The overalls looked like the real deal. The boots sticking out from the bottom of her cuffs were not, though. She flipped on the face-spoofer, and her redhead alter ego appeared. She put on the uniform cap and pulled it down low over her eyes.
No one seemed to notice anything as she walked outside and over to the tram line. No one seemed to notice as she sat on the tram, going to the other side of town. No one seemed to notice when she got out and made the ten-minute walk to Kelli Mae’s apartment building.
As she walked up, three men in the same blue overalls stepped out from the side alley. One threw her a tool kit, which she caught and slung over her shoulder. Another one of the men swiped an access card, and the apartment door opened. Talking about the latest V-Game, they entered the building and went up three flights of stairs, ignoring the elevator.
“OK, you ready?” the first man asked her.
Michi didn’t know any of the men, and she hoped they didn’t know her. She nodded, though, and slid off her overalls and stuffed them in her tool kit. She thought she caught the briefest flicker of prurient interest from at least two of them as they slid out of their overalls, revealing black military-looking uniforms, but no one said a word. Each of the men had a wicked looking handgun strapped to his thigh, and the shortest of the three handed Michi one in a belted holster. She started to put it on backwards, and without a word, the short guy helped her get it attached. Michi looked down at it. She didn’t have a clue how to fire it if it came to that, but it did feel reassuring as it hung on her hip. No one was supposed to get hurt, but they had come prepared.
They silently climbed up two more flights, then slipped into a utility closet. Standing there, half-naked, at least in her mind, in close proximity to three men, Michi wondered how she got to this position. Just two months ago, her main concerns were ballet and planning a wedding. Now she was hiding in a closet, waiting to attack a Federation Marine.
One of the men, the swarthy-looking guy, Michi thought, had horrible breath. Michi thought she was going to gag as it filled the closet. Then, to make things worse, the short guy, the one who had handed her the handgun, let out a quiet fart. That broke the tension. No one laughed out loud, but there was a sense of normalcy about it. Suddenly, Michi felt OK.
It was only five or so more minutes before they heard movement outside. There was a quiet knock, then a whispered greeting. The four of them waited another five minutes before creeping out and moving to Kelli Mae’s door.
&nb
sp; The tallest of the three put his ear to the door and listened: no high-tech gear, just an ear to the door. He nodded and motioned to the stairwell, and the bad-breath guy left and disappeared down it. He was their security.
The three left got into position. Michi knew what she was supposed to do, but it would have been nice to rehearse it at least once. She nervously waited behind the two men as the tall guy took out a small rectangular box that he held up to the lock. Red lights blinked for a few seconds before turning green.
For a moment, Michi wondered what his name was. It seemed impersonal to refer to him only as “the tall guy.” Then there was no time to wonder. He pushed open the door and the three of them barged in.
The Marine was at full throttle, pounding away at Kelli Mae, whose feet were up in the air straddling her thrusting paramour. He had time to glance behind him and start to dive off of her before both of Michi’s companions were on him, dragging the young man to the floor. Michi could see they needed no help, so she jumped on the bed, straddling the sweaty girl and placing a hand over her mouth.
“Shh,” she said, holding a finger over her own mouth. “Stay quiet, and no one is going to get hurt.
The Marine was struggling, and he managed to get up to a sitting position. Michi contemplated joining the fight when the tall guy managed to ziptie the Marine’s hands in back of him and slap a pressure gag over his mouth. They hauled him up, avoiding his kicks. The shorter guy stepped in back of the Marine, put him in a choke hold, and began to apply pressure before easing off. The Marine got the message and stopped struggling.
He was glaring bloody murder, though, and Michi had no question on what he would do to them if he could. He stood there, stark naked, being held, yet he was not cowed. He was no longer rampant, and his dick still had Kelli Mae on it, but he stood as if he had on full battle gear.
Kelli Mae, on the other hand, squirmed under Michi, not to escape, but to pull up a sheet to try to cover herself. She didn’t speak, but terror showed in her eyes. Michi felt a moment of compassion for her, but they had a job to do, and she was going to get it done.
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