Tabitha shrugged. “Hey, I can’t help it if European women don’t understand just how over-empowered they are compared to men. We not only have the brains, but we also have the bodies to confuse the best of them and, in the fog of war, men are putty in our hands.” She thought for a second. “Okay, some women have the brains, not every one of us.”
Tabitha finally caught up with Barnabas so that she was walking beside him. He glanced sideways at her and asked, “The fog of war, Tabitha?”
“Sure, anytime a man is around an attractive woman, it’s war. You might not think it, but their wives know it, their girlfriends know it. It just happens. It’s chemical. Do I have to pull up the physiological books to discuss this with you? I would think after a thousand years this would be old news to you. Hell, you’re practically a talking cadaver that’s walking around.”
Barnabas snorted. “I am not, nor have I ever been, a cadaver,” he stated.
Oh, this was so delicious. Tabitha gave herself three points and figured that she was up five to two so far. Barnabas had earned two secret points for making her catch up to him.
“Big B, I bet I wasn’t even alive the last time you got horizontal and did the mambo. I’m willing to bet you weren’t even assaulting with a friendly weapon when my parents were children.”
“Tabitha, please remember I lived in a monastery until relatively recently. What are you talking about?”
“Buttering the biscuit? Checking the oil? How about doing squat thrusts in the cucumber patch? No? Damn, Number One. Just how long were you in that cave? All right let’s try filling the cream doughnut? No? Posting a letter? Of course not, you probably don’t even remember or know what letters are.”
Barnabas grunted, “Yes Tabitha, I know what letters are. You do realize letters are something that happened many centuries ago, yes?”
She had to be up twelve to two, at least.
“Fine, I’ll try to see how far back I can go. Latina women are good at euphemisms, and I have a ton. I’m just trying to remember which ones an old dried up husk of a man like you might know. So, let’s try this Dr. Acula—how about shrimping the barbie? Oh, crap, that’s something from Australia, never mind. Slamming the clam? Taking old one eye to the optometrist? Sorry, I forgot an optometrist is the last couple of hundred years. How about something more fantasy driven. Taking the bald headed gnome for a stroll in the misty forest? No? Taking the magic bus to Manchester? Here’s one for someone your age, how about cleaning the cobwebs with the womb broom? Fuck, Big B, didn’t you ever just screw a chick?”
Tabitha finally realized that Barnabas was barely able to contain a smirk. His eyes, however, gave him away. “How long have you known what I was talking about?” She asked, annoyance coloring her voice.
He finally let loose with the smile he had been holding. “Since five to two.”
“What?” she asked, confused. “Hey, I didn’t say that out loud…” she stopped in the hallway, Barnabas kept walking. She closed her eyes, “Fuuuuuck!”
She forgot he could read minds.
She jogged to catch up to him and find out about her new case, right after she tried to apologize... if only a little.
TQB Base, Colorado, USA
Mason held his wife’s hand and carried Anne. For a twelve-year-old, she was still quite small and light.
Thank God.
His arm was dying a second time.
“Mason,” Sheila whispered, “what’s happening?”
The family had time to spend together, to just enjoy being a family. The lady here at the base had given them all of the food they wanted. Anne had sat in Sheila’s lap the whole time. No matter how much Mason tried to convince Anne differently, she was sure that her mom had been taken because she’d been ugly to her. Mason had tried to tell her arguing with moms is what girls her age did.
Now that Anne had her mom back, she was the most obedient daughter ever. Or at least until she wasn’t scared anymore of her mom being taken a second time.
Which led Mason back to Sheila’s question.
“We’re going to TQB’s home base,” he equivocated. “I’m to speak to the CEO.”
“I thought the lady said you need to talk to the Queen?” Sheila asked as they followed Jasmin out of the main office doors into the early evening’s darkening skies.
“Same person, apparently,” Mason said. “Her group has pulled off of Earth, so she’s setting up a monarchy.”
“Why does she want you?” Sheila continued.
Mason saw the black shipping container and two men, both with weapons, standing at the back, one door open.
“I think she wants answers,” Mason admitted.
“Why did they help us, is it your job?” Sheila asked. “I know I’m not supposed to ask, but you have to give me something here. Those men were looking for information from you.”
“Yes, they did and no, I don’t think they were helping us because of my job. I don’t know why they’re helping us.”
Anne squirmed in his arm and lifted her blond head. “I asked.”
“What?” Mason said, looking down. “Asked who?”
Anne flipped her hair, blew on some errant strands and then used her left hand to pull the last hair out of her face. “I sent a letter to Ms. Bethany Anne, asking for help.”
“How did you do that?” Mason asked.
“I heard the men talking to you when Mom first disappeared. I used my crayons to write a letter and send it. No one at school asked me about it. Well, Josephine made fun of me a little and said I was writing to Santa Claus.”
Sheila chuckled. “I imagine she did.”
Jasmin nodded at the two men. “These are the three the Queen wants to speak with, VIP soft delivery.”
“Aye ma’am, VIP soft delivery,” answered the first guy. He was blond with huge arms, Sheila noted. He smiled at the family.
“My name is Scott,” he pointed at the other man. “He’s Darryl. Trust me when I say you will absolutely be safe with us.”
“Not to be rude,” Mason asked, “but in a container?”
Scott grinned and turned his hand over and pointed up. “No. The Queen said VIP soft delivery.”
Mason and Sheila looked up. Four sleek fighters were hovering a hundred feet in the air. “Are those…” Mason’s question stopped.
“Yes, those are Black Eagles,” Darryl spoke for the first time. “There’s nothing on this Earth that I’m aware of that’s going to get through your guard. The Queen wants you safe. We tend to go overboard for her.”
“I see that,” Mason was awed. His group had tried to pull as much information about these ships as they could. From what he did know about them, and what he knew about his own people’s abilities, he had to agree with Darryl.
These four planes could probably decimate a small country.
Darryl spoke up again, “Sorry, we don’t have our best quality multi-seat Pods yet. Those are in production. But, if you would jump on board? We need to be over on the ArchAngel in about twenty-five minutes before we all drop back in.”
“Drop in… where?” Sheila asked as Mason stepped ahead of her and into the large black rectangular box.
“The gravity well,” Darryl answered. “We need to be prepared for Bethany Anne’s introduction in a couple of hours.”
Scott closed the door behind them as Darryl made sure everyone was getting clipped in correctly. This container, modified for larger groups, had fifteen seats on each side of the long walls.
“Sorry sweetie,” Darryl said, his voice soft. “But we can’t let you sit on your Dad’s lap. It’s against regulations.”
Sheila watched as Anne stood up and sat between her parents. “Am I going to get to meet Ms. Anne?”
“Hmm?” Darryl asked as he carefully belted in the fragile looking little girl. “Ms. Anne? Oh, sorry, her full name is Bethany Anne.”
“Well then, what is her last name?” Anne asked. “I thought my first name was her last name, that’s kind of embar
rassing.”
Mason noticed how huge the man was he stood up. “No, you share parts of your first name,” Darryl told the child. “Trust me, your letter got to Bethany Anne just fine young lady, and I’m sure she’ll speak with you sometime soon. Unfortunately, she has meetings right now.”
“Who is she meeting with?” Anne asked as Darryl crossed to the other side and buckled in a seat apart from Scott who was talking with someone subvocally.
“The Japanese leadership and royalty,” Darryl answered.
CHAPTER FOUR
QBS ArchAngel
Barnabas slipped behind the desk in his office as Tabitha sat in the chair facing him. She asked, “Why aren’t you outside with the Queen?”
Barnabas shook his head. “We don’t want all of our faces on video cameras. So, we’re only showing the minimum people necessary.”
“Is that why I haven’t seen Stephen lately?” she queried.
Barnabas smiled. “No, you don’t see Stephen because he spends his off time with a particular lady. It seems he has lost a battle due to those assets and fog of war you were speaking about earlier, and is enjoying life even more than he thought he could.”
“No shit?” she said sitting up in her chair. “El’ Stevo has a woman? Who is it?”
Barnabas grabbed a folder. Moving it in front of him he opened it up and set it down. “Let’s not try to do research for ‘As The ArchAngel Turns’ right now. We do have a case to discuss.”
She slumped back in her chair. “Wow, you have been catching up. How do you know about soap operas?”
Barnabas glanced at the ceiling in his office as he murmured, “Please give me strength. Bethany Anne would be upset if any accidents happened to Tabitha.”
Tabitha smiled. “Uncle B, you know I’m just playing with you. There’s no need to get stressed out. I’m sure I can set up a nice relaxing Friday night date for you, if you’d like.”
He eyed his female Ranger. “No, let’s not. Let’s not and say we didn’t. In fact, let’s not and never suggest it again. Now focus,” he told her, giving her such a frown that Tabitha understood she had pushed enough.
Fun time was over.
“What we have is a little bit of information. Three names you can track down, and a request to find out who hired them,” Barnabas explained.
Tabitha chewed on the inside of her cheek. “If I find out who hired them, what am I supposed to do?” she asked, her head cocked to the right.
Barnabas looked at her. “You are a Queen’s Ranger, that decision is up to you.”
“Oh.” The mantle of responsibility suddenly weighed heavily on her shoulders. “I kind of like it when I’m just told to kick their ass, not when I have to decide if the ass kicking is warranted.”
Barnabas shrugged. “Get used to it.”
Nara, Nara Prefecture, Japan
Bethany Anne stood, waiting for her team to leave the ship. The noise in the stadium was loud. Very, very loud.
>>Yuko has hugged her father. This is good, right?<<
Yes, Adam, that’s an excellent sign. She wondered why he was asking her to confirm something he certainly could look up himself. She added another mental mark in the ‘becoming human’ column.
There had been a number of conversations about what Bethany Anne should wear for this event. Once the women got involved, what they were thinking bordered on the ridiculous.
While the women knew that Bethany Anne would very rarely read minds, they failed to realize that Barnabas did it as a matter of course. Therefore, when Bethany Anne happened to have Barnabas join them during one of the talks, the ladies weren’t guarding their minds, and he quickly discerned they were having fun at her expense.
Bethany Anne simply told the women that they would be required to wear whatever she did. Even if it was, perhaps, in an annoying canary yellow or cloying pink color.
Their suggestions suddenly became practical.
Bethany Anne put a stop to the talks after a few more minutes. “I am a very reasonable person. I’m not going to go into meetings without weapons, even if they’re hidden. I prefer black or darker colors. If you try to dress me up in bright colors or pastels, I’ll consider tying you upside down and using you for shark bait. If you want me in high heels, I better not have sore feet because of them.”
The team ended up choosing an outfit with a tailored jacket and pants instead of a dress. She might have pants with hems that ended above her ankles showing off her shoes, or some that almost hit the floor hiding the shoes. Today, her outfit was comprised of lighter fabrics, but she had similar outfits that had more leather.
All in all, she liked the general style. With her hair up as it was, the silver hairpins added a nice touch. Jean Dukes was working on some individual small rods she could use to spit out tungsten slugs, yet didn’t look like pistols.
Bethany Anne loved Jean’s devious mind. The lady was truly a master of kinetic destruction. Her team, probably already working on their team name, came to work with a purpose every morning.
“Looks good, TW,” John vocalized. She pressed her lips together. That damned audio recording with Mason was all over the ship before she got back. John told her he considered it a penalty for leaving without her guards. She should take her punishment with grace.
Bethany Anne about tore another strip off of him until he reminded her to think about what he felt when he thought she had died in the blast.
She stopped arguing, thought about it, kissed him on the cheek and said, “I’m sorry for making you fret. You get seventy-two hours,” and that was the last of it. She wasn’t allowed to say anything about the jokes for three days.
Three. Long. Ass. Days. Bethany Anne was going to kill someone, maybe herself, if this kept up. The grapevine on the ship spread that it was open season on the boss for three days. She noticed a countdown clock in the forward cafeteria on the ship.
Fucking hell.
Oh yes, she was now a firm believer in praying to Saint Payback-is-a-Bitch.
She started walking out on the stadium floor, and the noise was moderately deafening.
She concentrated to reduce the impact, and the pain, from the audio overload until she could handle it better.
It took only a few seconds before she was climbing the steps to the stage behind John and Eric, with Darryl and Scott trailing her. She could hear a few women call out the guys’ names from the audience.
Bethany Anne started shaking hands until she got to where Yuko was standing with her parents. Yuko bowed to her, followed immediately by her parents. Bethany Anne bowed back slightly.
“あなたには、美しくて知的な娘がいます。彼女は、私の個人のチームの大切なメンバーです。あなたは誇り高いはずです.”
She left the family. Yuko’s father’s mouth was open, and a tear trickled down Yuko’s face. For the next few minutes, Bethany Anne was introduced to the local and national political representatives on stage. Then she was shown the microphone and asked to speak to the crowd.
The Kurtherian Gambit Omnibus 05 - The Fans Version: My Ride is a Bitch - Don't Cross This Line - Never Submit Page 4