My Ride is a Bitch

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My Ride is a Bitch Page 4

by Michael Anderle


  Bethany Anne turned towards the family. John noticed she frowned and whispered to herself, “I hate this.”

  Her eyes went vacant for a second, then she frowned. “Well, fuckity fuck.” She sighed, “Call ArchAngel. We need this family with us,” she told her, “John and I will grab Ashur from the cafeteria and head out. When Mason asks, tell him the Queen has said she will be able to protect his family much better than those who failed him.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She said.

  “C’mon John, let’s fetch the white wonder dog and get back to the ship.”

  The two walked past the woman, who continued to wait patiently a distance away from the reunited family. She listened to Bethany Anne and John talking as they walked down the hall.

  “Did I understand,” John started, “that Ashur is looking for a bitch or is that your idea?”

  “Nice, nice play on words, Mr. Grimes.”

  “I try my best,” he said while smirking, “when speaking to trophy wives.”

  “John,” she heard Bethany Anne say as the two tracked around a corner, “I swear if you keep up that shit, payback will be a bitch.”

  “Oh, you pray to him, too?” his voice trailed off.

  QBS ArchAngel - Above Japan

  Tabitha's Pod slowly moved through the gravitic shield blocking the air from leaving the Pod bay on the Archangel. She noticed Barnabas waiting for her as the Pod settled down and the doors cracked open. She unclipped herself and smiled to him.

  “Hey you, Big ‘B’!” Her grin grew a little bit when she noticed Barnabas frowning a little at her new nickname for him. She had decided that if she was going to live for the next few hundred years, she was going to do her dead level best to tweak him just a little bit each and every month.

  Her newest effort was giving him little pet names since you always have to be hacking and testing what you think might work,. She wasn't sure if this new name was going to last for more than a couple of months, or hell, it could last well into the next century.

  Barnabas turned his grimace into a smile, understanding that she had just laid down a challenge. "Hello Tabitha, I trust your trip was enjoyable?”

  She followed him as he walked towards the Pod bay exit. He looked over his shoulder at her and asked, "Do you know why we wanted you to join us here on the ArchAngel?”

  She shrugged, “Honestly, Big B, I figure you've got something that needs accomplishing, and you need just the right sass and ass to get the job done.”

  Barnabas hung his head. Tabitha might be more of a challenge than he had ever encountered in his many, many centuries. "I don't recall too many ladies ever telling me that they have the right, and I quote, sass and ass, to get the job done. Usually, they tell men to stop looking down there and that their faces are up here.”

  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, “Ok, some women have the brains, not every one of us.”

  Tabitha finally caught up with Barnabas so that she was walking beside him, so 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 is so delicious. Tabitha just 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 probably willing to bet you weren't even assaulting with a friendly weapon when my parents were children.”

  “Tabitha, please remember I was living 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 have been around to 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. Let's try taking the bald headed gnome for a stroll in the misty forest? No? Taking the magic bus to Manchester? Here's one for someone of 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 from showing on his face. 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 as 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 is happening?”

  The family had time to spend together, to just enjoying being a family. The lady here at the base had provided 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, that arguing with Mom’s 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 are 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 evenings darkening skies.

  “Same person, apparently,” Mason said, “Her group has pulled off of Earth, so she is setting up a monarchy.”

  “Why does she want you?” Sheila continued.

  Mason noticed the black shipping container with 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 are helping us.”

  Anne squirmed in his arm and lifted her blond head, “I asked.”

  “What?” Mason said, looking down, “Asked who?”

  Anne flipped h
er head, 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 talk 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 saying I was writing to Santa Claus.”

  Sheila chuckled, “I imagine she did.”

  Jasmin nodded to 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 nodded to the other gentleman with him, “He is 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 is nothing on this Earth, that I’m aware of, that is going to get through your guard. The Queen wants you safe. We tend to go overboard for her.”

  “I see…that,” Mason admitted. His group had tried to pull as much information about these ships as they could. With what he did know about them, and what he knew about his own group’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 the group 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 is kind of embarrassing.”

  Mason noticed the man was huge as 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 will 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

  Chapter 4

  QBS ArchAngel

  Barnabas slipped behind the desk in his office as Tabitha sat 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 are only showing the minimum people necessary.”

  "Is that why I haven't seen Stephen lately?" She asked.

  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 female? Who is it?”

  Barnabas reached to the side of his desk and 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’ eyes glanced to 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 feel stressed out. I'm sure I can set up a nice relaxing Friday night date for you if you would 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, let’s 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 requirement 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 is 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 significant amount of conversations related to 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 ladies 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 might be hidden. I prefer black or darker colors. If you try to dress me up in bright 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.”

 

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