by D. E. Kinney
“There is one more thing.” Mitch paused to get Tommy’s full attention. “We both know you have unsettled business on Tarchein.”
“Mister—“
“Mitch.” The man said smiling.
Tommy sized up the man quickly. He’s in good shape, but then again I haven’t broken anything all day, he thought then looked directly at the older man. “Yea, Mitch. I’m pretty much down to a single nerve, and your standing on it,” Tommy said not trying to hide his contempt.
“Look, Thorn, let’s cut to the chase here. I’ve done my homework, and I know all about Titan,” Mitch said.
Tommy flexed his fingers, an act not lost on Mitch.
“And I couldn’t care less about you and the Star Force. What I want—All I want is to get to Tarchein and win the cup,” Mitch continued.
“You really think you can get me back to the Tarchein capital?” Tommy asked, thinking of Gary.
Mitch stood and smiled. “If you’re as good as I think you’ll be—yes.”
“You better be sure about this, Mr. Cooper.” Tommy said, finishing the last of his drink and tossing it on the beach. He watched for a moment as the empty tube dissolved in the sunlight.
“I’m sure it’s your best chance of getting anywhere near the capital, and wrapping up, shall we say—loose ends,” Mitch said.
Tommy glared at the man with sweat stains growing under the arms of his expensive suit. He did not like the assertion that Gary was nothing more than a loose end, but he also remembered a conversation he had with Gary on Mars; it seemed so long-ago. You’d drive one for me, right, Tommy?
Mr. Cooper had clearly chosen the wrong term, and he knew it. “I’m sorry, Mr. Thorn, I didn’t mean to—“
“Forget it, Mr. Cooper, I’ll drive for you,” Tommy said, and slid his glasses back on..
Mitch nodded, clearly relieved. He was a man of action, but he had no desire to tangle with a member of the Marked. “How soon can you wrap things up here?”
Tommy looked over his shoulder, back toward the mech. “Hey, Rodrigo.”
“What?”
“I quit,” Tommy shouted.
The mechanic waved him off. “Good riddance.”
Tommy then stood, pulled up the tab on his jumpsuit, and pointed to Mitch’s transport. “Spool ’em up, Mr. Cooper—we’ve got some work to do.”