Kay pressed his lips together, sighed, and said, “Yes.” He turned toward Storm knowing before he looked that his partner thought his position was a betrayal. “Sorry.” He shook his head. “On balance, I think it’s the best thing for the team and maybe also our best shot at dealing with this outbreak. The city's counting down to panic. So far they haven’t put it together that what many of the missing have in common is a club in the Times Square district, but they will. We’re just running out of time for indulgent choices, my friend.”
Sol looked to Ram. “Guess that means it’s up to you, Hawking.”
Elora looked at Ram hopefully, but didn’t see assent on his face. Finally, he leaned back in his chair and heaved a big sigh.
“It goes without sayin’ that, if she was any other female, this would no’ even be on the table. But we know how special she is. I can no’ stand the idea of exposin’ her to what’s out there, but I do no’ have reasonable grounds to deny her if this is what she wants. As she said, she is stronger, faster, and is the best of us in hand to hand. She’s very likely smarter as well, at least more so than I. So far as bein’ my partner, I already know I like spendin’ time with her. If she’s goin’ to be out there, I’m glad I’ll be close by.”
“So that’s a yes?” Sol asked for clarification.
“Aye. ‘Tis.”
“This is madness!” Storm thundered then let out a string of curses under his breath that weren’t quite inaudible.
When he was finished, Sol said, “I think as a courtesy Gautier should be told before a general announcement is made. Right or wrong, he’s expecting to be named. I will inform him of the decision, but, with your permission, would like to be able to tell him he will automatically be transferred to B Team the next time there’s an opening. Gods forbid. Does everyone agree?” Sol took the silence as acquiescence by abstinence.
“Ms. Laiken, henceforth known as Lady Laiken, report to the personnel office in one hour and they will go over your benefits package. You will receive the same salary and benefits as any knight on probation.”
“What are benefits?” she asked.
“Things like pension, holiday, and sick leave.”
“I don’t get sick.”
“You mean you’ve never been sick?” She shook her head. “Ever?”
“I’ve never been sick. Ever.”
“Interesting. Your team has one week to brief you on guidelines and bring you up to speed on weaponry. It will also give us time to make adjustments in your teaching schedule.”
“Are we done?” Storm grated.
Sol looked at him. “Unless one of you has something else.”
Storm walked out, let the door slam against the wall on his way and didn’t look back.
Sol looked at Kay. “He may be due for a workshop on temper control.”
Elora was thinking Storm was making a habit of childish displays of petulance, but she was feeling a little insecure about his reaction anyway.
Kay caught her eye. “Don’t worry. He’ll come round.” He stood up and leaned over the table offering his hand. “Welcome to B Team, Lady Laiken.”
Elora stood and shook his hand with a grateful grin. “Thank you, Sir Caelian.”
“You know there’s a reason why they call us Bad Company. And it isn’t because we’re no fun.”
She smiled. “I surmised as much and will do my best to uphold the reputation for badness.”
Ram left with Elora. She could think of a dozen reasons why he might not be his jovial self, but he was clearly lost in disquietude. In addition to the danger quotient and the added worry for her safety in the field, The Order’s policy on “office romance” was going to create some internal havoc for two of her new teammates.
Ram saw it as a logistics problem. An hour ago his biggest worry had been how he was going to make a human fall in love with him using romance. Now his biggest worry was how he was going to make a human fall in love with him under a handicap of “no romance”.
What was worse, it seemed there were rivals all around. He had no conventions or models to draw upon since elves don’t compete for love. Mates are selected by a mysterious force that matches genetic patterns and other factors - maybe astrology for all he knew - so that progeny would enjoy the maximum benefits of hybrid vigor, thereby ensuring the survival of a healthy, hardy race and parents who never fall out of love but grow continually more devoted until they are separated by death. Granted, in this case, there would be no progeny since an elf/human couple cannot reproduce, but the principle is the same.
An errant thought flitted by and silently he asked, "Why couldn’t she just be an elf?"
He looked at Elora and flushed with guilt that, in a weak and selfish moment, he had just wished away the gift of this miracle in female form.
In a general meeting of hunters, Sol relayed a report from Baka that vampire were indeed making use of the underground system. As he had suspected, there was a secret entrance from the building that currently housed Notte Fuoco although clearly not all active vampire were aware of that.
Sol didn’t like the idea of patrolling space where operatives would be so vulnerable, but, if they didn’t get the rampage contained soon, there would be a city wide panic.
The splat deck was immense and divided into two sections: a firing range with stationary targets and an obstacle course set up very much like those designed for recreational laser tag. On the firing range side, there were several weapons lined up on a table. Kay began going over them with Elora, concentrating on those most popular for field use.
“We developed bullets with a core made of hard wood so green it won’t catch fire before reaching the target, but we like the splat guns better because they’re silent and, if an innocent gets in the way, they won’t get hurt.
As you might guess, one of the logistics problems is how to carry this,” picking up a splat pistol, “without drawing attention. That’s a lot easier to do in cold weather because you can hide a world of sins in outerwear. In warm weather we pretty much have to rely on stakes in boots.
The silver gel only works on exposed skin. That means, if your aim isn’t good enough to hit a vamp in the face, it won’t do you any good. So we’ll start with the fixed targets at maximum range of thirty feet. Have you ever shot a gun?”
“No.”
“Okay, well, we all have our strengths and weaknesses. We know you’re good at hand to hand.”
“And ancient weapons,” she interjected.
“Yeah, but swords and quivers are not exactly low profile. Storm’s the best shot.” Turning to Storm. “Why don’t you show her how it’s done?”
Storm, who had been standing back with his arms crossed over his chest, lips pressed together said, “You wanted her on the team. You show her..”
Kay opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by Ram coming to stand in front of Storm, in his face. “What’s this now? A fearless leader or just a pouty lunker who turns crybaby when he does no’ get his way? ‘Tis done! You get that? Let me say it again carefully. ‘Tis. Done! She’s one of us. And, if you do no’ come on board, you’re goin’ to get us all killed.” He jerked his head toward Elora. “That includes her.”
Storm’s eyes flashed with anger as he alternately clenched his jaw and his fists while he and Ram stared each other down. He was not in a humor to be challenged today. But slowly, he began to relax as the words were absorbed and he realized there was a valid point. His breathing slowed and he looked past Ram to Kay.
“Okay. Move aside.”
He showed Elora how to load the gel filled capsules and bring them forward into the chamber.
“We deliberately designed these guns with a sound identical to loading shells in a shotgun because any advantage is a good advantage. And few things sound more ominous than hearing the sound of a shell moving into the chamber of a shotgun, especially when it’s both quiet and dark. Vampire scare fairly easily and then they make fatal errors.” He smiled. "We like
that."
The gun he was using held three shots. He aimed and pulled the trigger in rapid succession. All three hit the target in the face.
“Whoa. Seriously?” she said.
“Told you he was good,” said Kay with pride.
Storm gave the gun to Elora so that she could practice the reload. He moved behind her to make sure her form was correct. The first two shots missed altogether. One hit a target in the crotch - two targets away from where she was aiming. By the fourth round she was managing to hit her target… in the crotch.
Ram said, “I’m beginnin’ to sense a very disturbin’ pattern here.”
Kay laughed.
Elora said, "Maybe you should keep it in mind, partner.”
Ram grinned. Stepping behind her he placed his hands on her hips and swiveled her body so that her angle to target was slightly different. He urged her body into a different position so that her weight was redistributed. He ducked a little to line up his sight with hers, then took her arm and moved her aim upward.
“You’re hittin’ ‘round two and a half feet south of where you’re aimin’. Maybe there’s more of a drop in flight than you’re calculatin’. So why do you no’ try aimin’ just that much higher and see what happens?”
She reloaded and tried that suggestion with the result of hitting the target in the chest.
“I’m callin’ that progress.” Ram smiled proudly with prejudice and affection.
Kay took the pistol from her and said, “We’ll work on it, but we’re gonna make sure you have boxes of toothpicks in your pockets just to be safe.”
Ram laughed. Storm was still too sullen for humor.
That night for the first time she sat at B Team’s table as an actual member of B Team. The conversation scattered from details of field operations to B Team’s self-reported deeds of tour de force. As an example of the latter, Kay told her to ask Ram about the time he gave Storm mouth to mouth. It would be hard to say which of them wanted to throttle Kay more for bringing that up. Their embarrassment made Kay laugh until he was red in the face. It's not easy to get two Bad Company knights to blush at the same time. As they glared at Kay, he explained to Elora that it had been that incident that had caused them to adopt the policy that what happens as a team, stays with the team.
She was told that she must never be separated from her partner and to avoid being cornered together as a team in a dead end or a trap like an elevator so that each partnership serves as back up to the other. They went over other ways to identify vampire without asking them to show fangs. They discussed the unique opportunities presented by having a female operative and how that might best be used to their advantage without excessive risk to Elora.
The question of the reported powerful aphrodisiac came up and Elora expressed her doubts. Glancing at Storm she said, “The day you told me about what happened to Lan, you mentioned aphrodisiacs and I didn’t question it at the time. I know there are differences, but, in my world, aphrodisiacs were proven to be a myth.”
“I, for one, would very much like to hear how that was proved.” Ram sounded mildly amused.
“Um, actually, it was a TV show called ‘Myth Busters’. Every episode they would take a commonly held belief and put it through a series of scientifically designed tests to determine fact or fiction. I saw the one on aphrodisiacs.”
Storm looked unconvinced. “Like you said, what if it’s one of those differences?”
“Could be. I’m just saying that aphrodisiacs can be a convenient ‘devil made me do it’ excuse.”
Storm nodded thoughtfully. “Noted.”
Kay turned to Elora. “On another note entirely, I don’t want to be the dead messenger, but I think you ought to do something about the hair.”
Elora blinked. “Like what?”
“Like cut it off.”
“What? Why?”
Having three sisters and a lifelong girlfriend, Kay knew enough about women to tread carefully with a woman’s vanity. “Your hair is great, Elora, but you didn’t just fight your way into a beauty contest. Your priorities have got to shift from cuteness to battle readiness.
This must have been mentioned in your hand to hand training. If you leave all that hair down, sooner or later it will get in the way, could easily create a blind spot. Wearing it up is almost worse because it might as well be a handle; grab, jerk, pull you off balance at best, snap your neck at worst. I think I speak for all of us when I say I’d rather see you alive with shorter hair.”
Elora looked at Ram and Storm to see their reactions. Ram said, “Well, when put like that, how can I no’ agree?” He was thinking that not a night passed without him drifting to sleep fantasizing about diving into a tangled mass of jasmine scented silky strands. Or feeling it trail down his body as she feathered kisses on his skin from chin to cock. Or having it brush against his thighs as she rode him with her head thrown back. He looked at it longingly and sighed. “I, too, prefer you alive.”
Elora studied her plate for a few seconds and then said, “I’ll think about it.”
Thinking this might be a good time for a new subject, she remembered the mental note she had made to ask about the leadership comment from earlier in the day. “I thought I heard Sol say that teams are organized without any official leadership, but, on the splat deck, you,” looking at Ram, “called Storm fearless leader.”
Ram nodded and looked at Kay as if to say, “You take this one.”
Kay took a minute thinking about how best to explain. “Okay. What happens when you form a unit of four guys,” he caught himself, “or, people, who are all alpha personalities with a raging case of Oppositional Defiance Disorder and you add to that a tradition of not formally naming a leader? Well, curiously enough, on some basic instinct level, we know that decisions can’t always be made by committee. When it’s final answer time, one of the four will find the other three standing there looking at him. When Lan was our fourth, that person was Storm, but group dynamics are always in motion.”
Elora then presented an idea that had been germinating. She was thinking that maybe the same contact who booked the house bass player gig for Baka could arrange jobs for the four of them. That way they could be there every night without their constant presence raising suspicion and could keep each other in sight.
Everybody liked the idea. They argued over which jobs would best fit their purpose and which of them would be best suited for a particular position.
“Can you dance?” Kay asked Elora.
“You’re talking about the cage dancers on the club level?” Kay nodded. “I’d have to get a new partner if I took that job.”
“Why?”
“Because Rammel would never sleep again. There just aren’t that many cold showers in a day's time.”
Kay snickered. Storm pouted.
With a rakish smile, Ram said, “I’d be acceptin’ that challenge, my girl.”
Elora grunted as if that was drivel and turned back to Kay. ”Okay. Seriously. If the vamps are coming and going from the live music level, then, shouldn’t that be the center of the operation?”
“She’s right.” Storm said. “She should serve drinks. Right or wrong that’s what patrons expect to see female employees doing. Plus it gives her a mobility that we wouldn’t have as bouncers or bartenders.”
“Too bad,” Ram stared at Elora with a gleam in his eyes, biting his bottom lip, unabashedly and conveying the impression that his imagination was still lingering on images of a scantily clad Elora writhing, bumping, and grinding.
She was starting to feel her cheeks heat and Ram was clearly enjoying making her squirm. She knew she had only herself to blame. She had started it. But it was a lesson learned and she made a mental note, "Do not ever challenge the sex god to a duel of sexual inference. You’ll lose."
In the end they agreed that it would make the most sense for Ram to bar tend so that he could stay in constant contact with his partner ordering and serving drinks while Storm and Kay worked securit
y. That gave them the perfect excuse to stand on the sidelines and observe without looking out of place.
Elora spent the rest of the week in briefing, target practice, and, finally, on the splat gun course. She also spent some time with the kitchen and bar staff consulting on the details of professional drink delivery.
She made arrangements with the Operations Office to qualify a few dog lovers for walking and exercising Blackie when Elora was on duty. He was so well-behaved that they decided he could hang out in the Operations Office at night and set up a large, comfy bed for him in a corner.
Blackie was becoming a master at ‘hunt the vampire’ using two halves of Baka’s shirt; the one to queue the dog and the other to hide for him to find. He was a very quick study, showing remarkable aptitude for tracking. As an added bonus he liked it and thrived on solving puzzles. It was the doggie version of a Sherlock Holmes mystery and also made him feel like he was working for his keep.
One beautiful fall afternoon, after a romp in the leaves, Elora decided to alter the game a little. She got Ram to let her borrow a Black Sabbath tee shirt that he had worn recently and had him hide somewhere in the building without telling her where, stipulating that he should start in the hub. She promised to call if it looked like Blackie couldn’t find him.
She took Blackie to the hub. He had grown into the role of the mascot they had hoped he’d become when he was adopted. He liked getting affection from the people he thought were in his pack: Elora, Ram, Sanction, and a few more in Operations. For the rest, he was tolerant, but not overly engaging. When women would switch to baby talk, Elora would have to stifle a laugh at the sardonic way Blackie looked at them. If he could have arched an eyebrow and said, “What the fuck?”, he would have. Elora couldn’t be more proud. In every way, including temperament, he was the finest example of a mature, Alsatian male.
Having just stopped by the coffee bar, Storm noticed the commotion and wandered over.
“What’s up?”
“We’re playing a new game today called Find Sir Hawking.”
My Familiar Stranger Page 23