Out of Nowhere (The Immortal Vagabond Healer Book 1)
Page 23
‘Dude! What happened? We wondered where you got to.’
‘I had to check up on somebody,’ I answered. ‘How’s Tiffany?’
‘Better than we expected. CAT scan was clean, no damage to her eyes, no teeth missing. Bad bruises, some broken fingers.’
‘Thank God.’ I released a long breath.
‘So what’s up with you, man?’
‘I need a favor.’
‘Money, an accomplice or an alibi?’ he asked without hesitation.
‘An accomplice,’ I replied. ‘You know the guy who was asking about me? The guys who attacked me and Nique? They’re the same guys who beat up Tiffany. I have a line on them, but I need a little help.’
‘I’m in.’
‘It might be dangerous,’ I warned.
‘Danger is my middle name. Of course, that means “Dodging” is my first, but if you ain’t running for the hills, it can’t be that dangerous. I’m in.’
‘You wound me,’ I said. ‘But thanks. Meet me at the Moonlight Inn. Soon as you can get here.’
‘What are you doing there? This isn’t a ploy to take advantage of me, is it?’
‘You’ve seen through my cunning ruse. Just come on over, OK?’
‘Will do. Oh, call Monique. She’s worried. Doesn’t want to lose her best girlfriend.’
‘I will. Thanks again.’
‘See ya in a few hours,’ he said. ‘I got some stuff to finish up, then I’ll head over.’ He hung up.
Sarah walked back in with a cup of coffee in either hand. She offered me one.
‘Who was that?’
‘My second, probably,’ I replied. ‘His name’s Pete. He’s a medic.’
‘So now what?’
I took a long sip to buy time. ‘I need to call Monique.’
‘I see.’ Her tone was neutral. No anger, nothing I could detect.
It scared the hell out of me.
‘First off, she’s worried about me. She’s a good friend and deserves a call back. Second, I need another person to pull this off. Someone I can trust. That’s a short list. And last, I think it’s time you two met.’
After a long pause, she forced a smile. ‘OK,’ she said, ‘maybe it’s time to put a face to the name.’
I squeezed her shoulder. ‘You’ve been amazing, you know. You gave me enough new perspective on this for me to try to solve this mess, and being with you is the motivation I need to actually stick it out and do it. I don’t know who took you for granted, or how, or why, but he was an idiot. You have no reason to be jealous of anyone. If heavily armed thugs who can teleport can’t come between us, do you really think I’d let another woman?’
The tight, forced smiled thawed into the twisted grin I’d come to love. ‘You’re right. How bad could it be? She’s not gonna beat me up.’
‘Probably not,’ I returned the smile, ‘but try not to make any remarks about her having a bimbo name.’
‘It was her bimbo voice,’ she corrected. ‘She has a stripper name.’
‘Ah. That’ll make it OK, then.’
‘But like a stripper who would work at an expensive place, not a cheap dive. Or maybe an escort service. Oh, that’s it! She totally has an escort name.’
‘This’ll be fun,’ I muttered as pulled out my cell and dialed Nique’s number.
‘Sean!’ she exclaimed as she picked up. I’m still taken aback by the fact that people know it’s me before I say anything. I have adapted to technology slowly. ‘Is everything alright?’
‘I’m fine. How’s everybody?’
‘Tiffany’s doing much better. Nobody else has been hurt. We were all worried when you took off. What happened?’
‘I had to run and check on Sarah,’ I replied. ‘She was trying to research some writing on the knife I took from those guys who jumped us. Tiffany got attacked after she gave us the demographic sheet on the guy we brought in when all this started. I figured they might go after Sarah too.’
‘Oh my God. Is she OK?’
‘She’s fine. And, thanks to her, I’ve made some progress tracking down the guys who did all this.’
‘Really? That’s great. You going to the police?’
I grimaced. ‘It’s a bit more complicated,’ I said. ‘In fact, there’s a favor I need. Can you meet me today?’
‘I picked up a shift. I’m actually on the truck now. I’m out at seven tonight, though.’
‘You know what? If you’re working, there are a few things you could pick up for me.’ Shopping from the ambulance supplies is pretty much illegal.
‘Sure thing,’ she answered brightly. ‘What can I get you?’
It’s also pretty much a constant.
So long as you only steal a little bit, and you don’t touch the narcotics, which are strictly tracked, you can outfit a small personal clinic.
I gave Monique my laundry list and we said goodbye. As I hung up the phone, Sarah gave me what I can only describe as a look.
‘Tiffany? Really?’
I shrugged.
‘Hey, you wouldn’t let me run away from the guys with knives. I say we stay and face the peril of the girls with stripper names.’
She sighed in theatric exasperation. ‘You’re lucky you’re a good cook.’
I killed time going over and over the plan in my head. It wasn’t the craziest plan I’d ever been involved in. I’d seen worse plans work out. I’d also seen better ones go to hell, but I didn’t dwell on that.
What gave me that weightless, falling sensation in my stomach was that this was different for me. This wasn’t me hiding out in uniform, trying to put myself in the absolute minimum danger to avoid totally disgracing myself or betraying my companions. This was leading a group of civilians I cared for into harm’s way to confront my problem. In theory, I’d be the guy in danger, but how much faith did I really want to put in Mr Doors’ sense of honor?
Much later, the welcome sound of a knock on the door interrupted my fretting. ‘Hello?’
‘Hi!’ came a cheery voice, which, to my dismay, would be all you could ask for from an escort. ‘It’s Nique.’
‘Come on in.’ I gave Sarah a quick smile, saw her take a deep breath in preparation.
I opened the door to Nique’s sunburst smile. She gave me an enormous hug. As she released me, she turned to Sarah, who was doggedly maintaining a frozen grin.
I’d not have thought it possible, but Nique cranked up her smile by a few thousand BTUs.
‘You must be Sarah,’ she beamed. ‘It’s so nice to finally meet you. Sean can’t stop smiling since he met you.’
See, a good partner always has your back.
Sarah’s reserve melted in the face of Nique’s greeting. Stronger men had fallen before. Nique was just about impossible to dislike, even for the new girlfriend who’s just discovered what her boyfriend’s partner looks like.
I limped to the mini bar for drinks, and by the time I got back, the two women were chatting like old friends. I heaved a sigh of relief and marveled at Monique’s ability to charm. Drop her with a tribe of headhunters in the jungle of the Amazon basin and a week later she’d be thanking them as they carried out her luggage, and they’d be smiling that she let them.
Pete eventually showed up, introduced himself, got an eyeful of Sarah and practically dug his elbow in my ribs and high-fived me. I tried to enjoy it, but I was sure he’d work the whole thing into a new gay joke by week’s end.
After the introductions and small talk, I felt it was time to address the matter at hand.
‘Thanks for coming, you two,’ I began. ‘As you know, there have been a series of attacks on me and people close to me recently. It took a while, but with some help, I’ve put together who it is and why. Sarah finally helped me figure out how to fix this. But this is a strange story, and I’m gonna ask you to take it on faith. I had no idea these guys were looking for me, or that it put any of you in danger. I never would have taken a chance on that.’
I was happy to see nods all around. Even Pete didn
’t make a wisecrack. Reassured, I pressed on.
‘A long time ago, I did something to piss these guys off. I basically disobeyed an order that never should have been given.’
‘You?’ asked Pete. ‘Get out of town. Mr Sorry-the-radio-is-cutting-out decided to ignore an order? No fuckin’ way.’
I looked to Nique for support, but she just shrugged eloquently. ‘He’s not wrong.’
‘I took the punishment and got on with my life,’ I continued. ‘I guess my colleagues weren’t so quick to forgive and forget. Now that we’re all mustered out, they want to settle the score.’
‘You were in the military?’ asked Pete. ‘That must’ve been after “Don’t ask, don’t tell”.’
‘Well, I hadn’t met you yet, so I had nothing to hide.’
‘Where did you serve?’ asked Nique, rolling her eyes as she tried to drag us back to business.
‘It’s not important,’ I replied. ‘It was a long time ago and a long way away. Let’s just call it service to a foreign power.’
‘Dude! You were a merc? No way!’
‘Oh my God,’ exclaimed Nique. ‘Were you in the Foreign Legion?’
‘No I was—wait, why the Foreign Legion?’
She shrugged. ‘I’ve heard your French. Your accent isn’t Québécois, like you say. My Memère is from Montreal.’
Huh. I had thought I’d done a better job with my cover than that. I wondered if all the women in my life were smarter than I was.
‘Something like that,’ I offered. It wasn’t completely a lie. I did spend some time in the Legion, but that was unrelated to this mess. So far as I knew.
‘So, anyway...’ Sarah prompted.
‘Right. Anyway, I have some information that would be embarrassing for these guys. They’ve agreed to meet just me to settle this, and lay off my friends in return for me not leaking this. The thing is, the boss is a bit... well, traditional. He wants to settle our differences the old fashioned way. A duel.’
‘Are you shitting me?’ Pete asked, pretty reasonably.
‘Sean, you can’t be serious,’ Nique said. ‘Why can’t you just go to the cops?’
‘It’s complicated. The info I have would be bad for them, but it wouldn’t end this permanently. And you guys have seen what they’ll do. Remember the ambush at Dugan’s? The attack on Tiffany? They’ll be out for revenge, and I can’t have that.’
‘So you’re gonna duel this guy?’ asked Pete incredulously.
‘Yep.’
‘You can hardly walk,’ said Nique. ‘How are you going to fight?’
‘That’s where your shopping spree comes in.’ I took the bag she’d brought and tipped it out on my coffee table.
‘Some lido and syringes?’ asked Pete. ‘What’s that gonna do?’
‘It’s going to numb my ankle and wrist so I can fight. Think Schilling in 2004. Game six against the Yankees.’
‘You’re going to inject an anaesthetic into a damaged joint so you don’t feel the pain of the incredibly bad idea of running around on that joint?’ Nique demanded.
‘Sometimes you need to do what you need to do. And I heal fast.’
‘Sean, I really think you need to think harder about this.’
‘No.’ Sarah put a hand on Nique’s shoulder. ‘He’s right. This will work. I’ve seen him in action.’
Nique gave her sad but tender smile. ‘Sweetie, I know Sean is a great guy, and I suppose he’s a decent fighter, but he needs somebody level headed to watch out for him. He’s not big on details.’
‘I’d noticed,’ Sarah replied with a grin. ‘We’re working on that.’
The two women seemed to have bonded. I wondered if that would be good or bad for me in the long term. For now, it was a relief.
‘OK, for the sake of argument, let’s pretend this isn’t a stupid idea,’ Nique continued. ‘This guy isn’t the Count of Monte Cristo, he’s a drug lord. Why would he agree to this? Why wouldn’t he just have his thugs kill you when you show up?’
‘He’s an aristocrat. There are forms that must be observed.’
‘Yeah, but if he’s dealing drugs, isn’t that already violating his code?’ asked Pete.
‘Not really,’ I replied. ‘How well do you know your history? Look at the Opium Wars. British merchants were basically pushing drugs on the Chinese, and it was OK, since it was just on the Chinese, not real people who mattered. It was so OK that the Crown sent a fleet and a few regiments over to China to force a treaty to allow the Opium trade. The take-home point is you can deal all the drugs you want, so long as you watch where you do it.’
‘So why keep his word to you?’
‘I have... connections,’ I replied. ‘I’ve worn the Old School Tie. I know not to pass the Port to the right. He has to treat me by the rules.’
‘So why do you need me?’ Pete asked, suddenly suspicious. ‘I left my pistols in my other suit.’
‘I need you on the off chance I’m wrong about the whole “obeying the rules” thing,’ I said. ‘We’ll be dueling with swords but, as my second, I’ll need you to be ready for anything.’ I reached into the bag at my feet. ‘I’ll provide a pistol. This,’ I held up the weapon, ‘is a Colt .45 automatic. Ever shoot one?’
‘Nothing that wasn’t attached to an arcade game.’
‘OK, quick lesson. This is the magazine. It holds seven rounds. You slot it into the butt of the gun like this. Pull the slide back like so. That cocks the hammer. This is a single action pistol. It won’t fire if the hammer isn’t back. That shouldn’t matter if you chamber a round, but just know that. This is the safety. Leave it in this position until you decide you want to shoot, then disengage it with your thumb. It’s positioned to make that easy. As far as sights, you want to line the front blade up in this back notch. Aim at the biggest part of the target and squeeze, don’t jerk the trigger. It’s an accurate weapon, but it has a decent recoil, so after you shoot, let the weapon come back down before you shoot again. Here,’ I opened the slide and handed it over, ‘it’s empty. Now, push that, the slide release. Yeah, right there.’
He did, not flinching as the slide closed, which made me happy.
‘Now hold it in your right hand, and support your right hand in your left, like that. Good.’
‘So, apart from doing my best Dirty Harry, what does a second do?’
‘You’re there to observe for me, make sure that the rules are obeyed and the duel is conducted honorably. I think it will be. The thing is, when I win, if his second gets any ideas, I need you to watch my back. Don’t pull the gun unless things go to hell, and don’t shoot unless you feel confident you aren’t going to hit me. But once you decide to shoot, finish the job.’
‘Got it.’
‘What about us?’ asked Nique.
‘I think they’ll play the duel straight, but I want you two someplace safe where you can look out for one another. Stay together, and keep this.’ I pulled a second pistol from my bag, ‘This is a—’
‘Browning Hi-Power nine millimeter,’ Sarah answered matter-of-factly. ‘What? My dad was an MP in the Army. My uncle collects guns. I used to go shooting with him.’
I digested this fact for a moment.
‘You ever shoot an M1911?’
‘Yes. It’s been a while, but I’m sure I can still shoot a six inch group at ten yards.’
I paused for a moment, then took the .45 from Pete, handing him the 9mm instead. ‘This,’ I told him, ‘is a Browning nine millimeter. It’s similar to the Colt—’
‘Wait,’ he protested. ‘I get the little gun? Why?’
‘It’s got less recoil than the .45, so it’s easier to control, and the magazine holds more bullets, so you can shoot more before you need to reload. It’s a better gun for a less experienced shooter.’
‘It matches your mascara better, too,’ Nique observed.
Chapter 34
THE NEXT FEW DAYS WERE EERILY QUIET. I laid low, recuperating, and keeping an eye on the news as well as checking
in with Pete and Nique.
In a way, the lull made sense. We had agreed to a meeting, and any action before that would look bad, and hurt the very family honor that my enemy was trying to avenge. If he was planning some treachery, I had promised to show myself at a known time in a secluded location, so it was probably a safer bet to strike then rather than risk making a move earlier.
I had Sarah take Pete to a local pistol range and let him shoot a few rounds. If the meeting did go to hell, I didn’t want it to be the first time he’d ever fired live ammo. I wasn’t expecting to turn him into Sergeant York in a few days, but I’d feel better if he got acclimated to how the gun felt and sounded when fired. I’d have felt a lot safer with Bob standing behind me, but it was better that he not be there. Doors’ black ops buddies would know that Bob was out there with incriminating info; they’d want him to play this straight. If both Bob and I were at the scene, then removing both of us would look very tempting.
While I had my little friendly brush with death, Sarah and Nique would be at the Harp. It was public, and sure to have a few off duty Philips Mills cops in it at any given time. They all knew Nique from working the street, so they’d all keep an eye on her. The fact that she’d be drinking with another attractive woman wouldn’t hurt on that front either. And Sarah had my pistol in her purse. All those factors would probably keep them safe.
By Saturday, I could walk on my ankle without much more than a twinge. My wrist was stiff and sore, and I winced if I lifted anything heavier than a ballpoint, but it was better than it had been, and it wasn’t my sword hand. With the lidocaine, I was pretty sure I could get through this.
The fact that somebody would be trying to shove a foot of steel through me would probably give me enough to worry about without thinking of some minor aches and pains. It’s amazing how imminent death can focus one’s concentration.
Pete, acting as my second, called Doors and confirmed the details. Smallswords. Doors would provide a matched pair, I would choose one. We would fight to a mortal wound.
Exactly what I hoped for.
Which is odd, considering it made me vaguely nauseous to think about it.
It’s one thing to face danger, to face the chance of dying. You can always rationalize it away and, generally, the real, scary moment when you could die comes on so suddenly that you deal with it in a mad rush of adrenaline and it’s over. To plan a brush with death for just after lunch next Tuesday, for example, sounds insane. And it is. Human nature doesn’t work that way. The rush of good old fashioned fight or flight chemicals is short acting and on a hair trigger. Keep them flowing too long and you get short tempered, queasy and irritable and have a hard time eating or sleeping. The sympathetic nervous system is designed to handle a leopard leaping down on you from a tree, not one sending you a note to meet him at sunrise.