by Blaze Ward
Her real name was Roxanne, but nobody outside a small group ever called her that or even Roxy. She had spent the better part of two decades as the principle stuntwoman for Mrs. Jones, one of the most famous actresses in the galaxy, before that worthy woman had moved on to more cerebral and so-called serious roles. The kind that didn’t involve close-combat martial arts, combat driving, or small arms expertise.
These days, with the right makeup, a big hat, and sunglasses, she was Mrs. Jones, and had played that part for Jorge on several operations, where misdirection was the key. Everyone wanted to fall all over themselves to be near the most beautiful woman in the galaxy.
Roxy was amazing looking, all by herself, but she was all muscle and brains under those curves, and on their last mission together, had been impersonating a nymphomaniac. And she’d needed Rob’s help to get into character.
He couldn’t help but smile as he saw her. The late afternoon sun made it a pleasant, tropical day in the mid-eighties. Roxy was wearing white today. A dress slit nearly to her hip bone on one side, mostly backless, and with just enough front to contain her chest for polite company. As always, she was without tan lines on all the visible parts, which was most of them.
Just for the hell of it, Rob walked right up and kissed the woman. Probably the worst she would do right now was punch him, but she returned the kiss fervently before breaking it and grinning.
“Now everyone will be jealous,” she laughed quietly, looking over his shoulder, where Rob was sure he had an awe-struck audience on the other side of the glass windows.
Rob laughed and handed her back into the back of the vehicle before climbing in himself and pulling the door shut.
Jorge was already there, on the other side of Roxy. He could make a tuxedo and an undone tie look perfectly appropriate in any situation, and did.
Across the way, facing rear, sat Longbow, aka Levi Framingham the musician, dressed well but not as well and smiling. At least the unfortunate, blond flattop had grown out over the last year into something vaguely businesslike.
Next to the musician was Raef. Rafaela Dominguez, captain of the Private Service Yacht Valencia del Oro. She was almost Rob’s height, but built more like a scarecrow than an athlete. Unlike Roxy’s hard curves and dangerous muscles, Raef was skinny and kinda homely, but a first rate navigator. She shared Rob and Jorge’s Hispanic heritage in the black hair just starting to gray and brown eyes broad and laughing much of the time.
Tonight, she had stepped away from being a captain, wearing a simple black sheath in silk that made her legs look three miles long. With her shoulder-length hair loose and brushed back, she looked like a tree that a squirrel might enjoy climbing. Longbow had that look in his eyes.
The interior partition was down, and Rob spotted Nigel’s cowboy hat up front on the driver as the ground vehicle pulled away from the curb with a smooth burst of acceleration.
“Did I buy this or is it stolen?” Rob asked Jorge in a serious innocence. Never admit to being an accomplice, even unknowing and after the fact.
“Neither,” the man grinned. “People owe me favors. Or want to get on my list.”
“Good enough,” Rob nodded to everyone. “Surprised that the whole gang was available on two days’ notice.”
Roxy had curled herself up against his side in a distracting way. Gods, that woman smelled even more amazing than he remembered.
“A little pixie might have whispered in my ear a few weeks ago,” Jorge grinned, lifting his martini glass from what looked like a custom stem holder. “Suggested the powers that be might be starting to panic, as it were. I put the word out, just in case.”
“I see,” Rob grinned back. “Thank you. We’ll talk more at dinner, after I have hopefully sufficiently bribed all of you, because this one’s even bigger and crazier than stealing Silverfish.”
Roxy looked up at him with the most innocent eyes ever.
“You’ll have to ask me extra special nice to do something like that for you, Handsome,” she purred as the other folks in back laughed.
Seriously, no man was safe around this woman. And probably most women, if she set her mind to it.
Longbow handed him a highball of whiskey that matched the one the guitarist was holding.
“Let’s get crazy, kid,” Longbow toasted him and they both drank.
Roxy grabbed Rob’s glass and took a sip as well, while Jorge enjoyed what appeared to be a bottomless, or at least never-ending martini and Raef drank wine
Quickly enough, Nigel pulled them up at the base of a tower. They were still in Puerto Peñasco, barely, right along that line where the naval base gave way to the city, except that they were outside the gate closer to officers’ quarters, and well down from where the enlisted partied.
Rob handed Roxy and Raef up as every person in sight stopped to stare, doubly so as Jorge emerged from the other side and Longbow joined them. Nigel would park the beast and be along shortly, not trusting a valet with these wheels.
The elevator seemed intent on reaching orbit, but they were in truth only going up sixty stories. Still, Roxy had attached herself to his side with a lascivious grin that just made up for the rest of the week.
Now they just had to do the impossible. And survive to tell.
Handsome Rob did not ask how Jorge had managed reservations here tonight. From his limited understanding of things, the list went out approximately six months in advance.
And yet they were seated in a private room located just behind the bar and next to the kitchen, with their own dedicated waiter and bartender poised for service. Rob let his decadence stretch just a little bit when they ordered. He didn’t really need a one kilo ribeye steak. Nor the grilled shrimp on the side. He did need something to drink, and the cost per bottle on this whiskey was high enough to make him smile.
Nigel and Longbow both went all in, as well.
Smiling at his friends, dinner tonight would possibly run into roughly what he got paid on a monthly basis, in a nice gig as a Field Agent. Not quite the top of the tiers for service salary, but not down with the little people.
Of course, his budget for a mission this insane was probably a frighteningly high number, if he decided to push. That might yet come, but first he wanted to treat his friends well.
Rob ordered the Tiramisu and the Crème Brulee with fruit, just so Roxy could have delicate nibbles off both, acting like a wee, little kitten so innocent you blushed on her behalf.
It was all a ploy. Rob knew she could bench press his weight.
Rob toasted Jorge and the others with a glass of whiskey almost as good as what Tallia brought.
“The other day, you mentioned conning the wrong people, Jorge,” Rob paused to belch, grin, and then sip some more. “Who are the right people?”
“So the bosses want something like this done with plausible deniability, as always, right?” Jorge asked. “Complete misdirection and all that. That’s why they hire us to handle the big things. You can hide an amazing amount of deceit by pretending to be larger than life movie stars.”
“With you so far, but no sure where that’s taking us on this one,” Rob gestured with his whiskey glass to the others, all eyes around the table bright and focused.
“I had considered one of the other Syndicates as my patsies,” Jorge finished a martini, just as the waiter arrived with a replacement and departed wordlessly. “That way, everybody over there is mad at each other. As you know, they aren’t really a government so much as a bunch of crime bosses that own politicians, so that’s always a seam we can exploit. But we should dream bigger. Crazier.”
“Oh, shit, you’re really going to do it this time, aren’t you?” Longbow asked. “After threatening it for more than a decade?”
“Worse,” Jorge practically preened. “We all owe Rob one from last time, so we’re going to play straight men on this one, and he’s pulling the con.”
Roxy stopped being the dead-sexy movie star and turned back into a stuntwoman as she sized Rob
up with new eyes.
“You think they’ll go for it?” she asked, but it was obvious she was talking to Jorge.
Rob felt lost. Way lost.
“The kid’s a natural,” Jorge said. “You all know that. And we can use that to our advantage. Where will they naturally look?”
“Uhm,” Rob managed to interrupt the flow before he drowned in it. “What exactly are we talking about here?”
“You tell him, Roxy,” Jorge prodded the woman.
She turned and fixed Jorge with a catlike scowl, like maybe a mouse was getting presumptuous. Jorge appeared as immune as ever.
“So our dear leader has had this fantastic scam that he has always wanted to pull,” she explained. “However, by the time we got all the moving parts established, the world had changed, and it was no longer appropriate, except in a worst case scenario. Apparently, he’s either suffering from mental decline, or wants to go out with a bang, because there’s almost no way this works in the current political climate.”
“Yup,” Rob nodded absently and sipped. “Still lost.”
“He wants to go con the pirates of Corynthe into doing it,” she grinned a little lopsided at him, like it was an apology.
Rob studied her face. Jorge’s. Longbow. Nigel.
It was perfectly insane. So completely off the charts that the Service would probably teach it as a special class in Field Agent school. Whether that was to repeat it, or never make that mistake again remained to be seen.
But after a moment, all the pieces fell into alignment. Rob didn’t think his face had changed, but Jorge smiled.
“Yes,” the con artist smiled. “You see it. What do you think?”
“I think we need a better script,” Rob grinned at the man. “Can’t Shoot Straight Gang Returns.”
4
Valencia del Oro was a lovely yacht that Handsome Rob approved of. Like last time, Jorge and Mrs. Jones had the two master suites, located at either end of the long-skinny ship, with Jorge a deck above the engines and Mrs. Jones above the bridge with wraparound windows that covered three-quarters of the suite when you opened all the shades. The other three of them, along with Raef, had four of the six cabins on the main deck, a right turn towards the front end.
Rob was even in his old cabin when he boarded, but fortunately for his relative sanity, it was empty when he entered. Not that he would have minded a good romp with Roxy, but it wasn’t that kind of mission. Presumably. Still, a white rose left on his pillow, without any note, suggested that perhaps the woman had had the same thoughts.
He did smile as he headed aft to the main lounge, looking to find the others back there. Rob had a suspicion many had been aboard for a few days, just waiting for him. Not that he minded.
The lounge had a kitchen on one side and a booth big enough for a dozen friends on the other. Coffee was ready and waiting for him as he entered
Jorge was already drinking coffee and reading something on a table as Rob watched, but there was a martini glass close, like perhaps the man needed it for fuel on a regular basis. With his career and reputation, Jorge could do whatever he wanted.
Rob grabbed a black coffee today, rather than whiskey, laughing to himself as he sat next to Jorge and remembered the last mission. Jorge had consumed martinis morning, noon, and night. Longbow had been experimenting with all manner of narcotics to find the perfect blend for his cover as a drug-crazed rock star. Nigel had spent time aft in the machine bay, building things that ended up never being used but made him smell like a pyromaniac.
And Roxy had spent the entire flight getting into character. As a nymphomaniac. In his cabin. At least she still smiled at him when she wasn’t playing that character.
Longbow wandered in a few quiet minutes later, with Roxy right behind him.
“Raef says three minutes to lift, if we want to strap in,” the musician smiled as he grabbed a sippy cup mug and poured coffee, coconut cream, coconut oil, and honey in, sealing it and shaking hard.
“Any warrants out for her arrest?” Jorge looked up at Longbow.
“Not that she’s told me about,” the man replied innocently.
“Then I don’t feel the need to batten down the hatches just to take off,” Jorge smiled and went back to his tablet, about the time Rob was considering how hot a liftoff they might have if she needed to outrun the law.
You never knew, especially not with this crew.
Roxy smiled at Rob from across the table when she sat, but she was all business today. Valencia del Oro lifted with just the slightest surge in the lights and motion as the ship leaned back and ran like hell for outer space.
Nigel and Raef entered from opposite ends of the ship at almost the same moment after a few minutes of small talk later. Nigel poured two mugs of coffee while Raef sat her remote piloting tablet on the table and slid into the big booth next to Rob.
“You’re probably wondering why I’ve called you all together like this,” Jorge smiled at the group as everyone laughed, groaned, or in Roxy’s case, punched him on the shoulder.
“I’ve always loved that line,” Jorge said. “So utterly cheesy and trite, especially when you can deliver it deadpan in a comedy movie. Raef, what did you find out about our target?”
Rob felt a bit of whiplash has he turned to the tall woman on his left.
“Last anyone knew, nothing had changed,” she said cryptically. “Most recent intel is about six months old, so it might be a complete cluster when we get there, but he’s been in charge for five years, give or take, so make of it what you will.”
Raef wasn’t one for long speeches, so Rob was a little shocked. That might be the most words he had heard her speak in one breath.
“Good enough,” Jorge replied. “We’ve never met as part of a swindle, he and I, at least as far as I know, so no reason he won’t fall for it. Though in fact, I might have met him twenty years ago when I did something on Callumnia, if it’s the same guy. Do we know?
“Nephew of the old Governor,” Raef said. “Former captain of a boat named Dragonfly.”
“Son of a gun, I do know him,” Jorge snapped. “At least sort of. If he remembers me. That might give us an in. Rob, you ready?”
“I’ve read your notes and destroyed them, Jorge,” Handsome replied. “Seems straightforward enough. Can we really trust a pirate to keep his word on something like this? Will he even go for it, or just take us all hostage for whatever ransom he figures he can get?”
“Ah, my boy, you’re getting sharp, but you’ve only just begun to scratch the surface of a good, rolling con,” Jorge laughed. “The trick is to keep them on the hook for an even bigger payoff later. Most people won’t strike immediately, because greed turns their head. That’s how pyramid schemes work, if you’re smart enough to get out early, before it collapses. After that first taste, you just keep spinning tales. It’s like hooking a big fish. You got to tease him into the boat, since he’s too large to just drag over. Pull a little, and then let him run, but each time pull a little more than he gets away. He gets tired, and closer.”
“And eventually you gaff him alongside and beat the crap out of him with a big club,” Roxy smiled and joined the conversation. “Works on fish, too.”
Everyone laughed, but there was an element of tenseness under the notes. That was the problem with stakes this high. There was always an element of risk.
It wasn’t like you could just order up a strike squadron to storm in overhead, damning the torpedoes and the costs. Lincolnshire didn’t have a fleet like that. Aquitaine did, but needed a reason to help out, and a surprise ambush of a foreign base on foreign soil wouldn’t do the trick. Especially since everyone was supposedly at peace.
Theoretically.
“So we’re just going to sail up to a pirate base and ask for help?” Rob kept most of the sarcasm out of his voice.
“Oh, it’s almost the same con as we pulled to steal Silverfish, but we’ve got a better script this time,” Longbow spoke up. “And every space pirat
e likes to think of himself as a romantic figure, rather than a cutthroat criminal. Plus, Keller did a number on those bastards, back in the day, and the worst of them either got killed, retired, or ran off someplace she couldn’t find them. Her fleet came through and scared the living shit out of anybody with second thoughts a couple of years after that, without her. Raef, what’s traffic like these days?”
Rob watched the byplay closely. Last time, they had all been into their characters already by this point, relying on him to play the straight man in complete ignorance of their scam. This time, he was part of the team. Growing up at the feet of these masters, as it were, all of them two or three decades older than him.
Wiser. Sneakier. Meaner.
“Lincolnshire’s actually a little worse than Corynthe, these days,” the captain brightened up from her scowl. “More smuggling and penny-ante stuff on any given day. Bribes for passage and fast clearance against bureaucracy. If a Corynthe pirate is feeling hungry, though…”
That much, Rob understood. Most of his missions over the last year had been subtle ones. Sneak in and deliver messages or equipment to spies already in place, or get defectors out quietly. To date, he had still never shot anyone, although he trained and qualified with a dozen different weapons every month. From Field Agent, the next step up in responsibility was Assassin.
“And that’s my general point,” Jorge took up the center of the conversation again. “We go in as wide-eyed kids, playing to their masculinity and awesome pirateness. Every man’s ego gets a little puffed up and they maybe stop paying attention to the little things. Throw in a little greed, and maybe dangle some movie star glamor. You saw how that worked before, Rob.”
“Audacity,” Rob agreed. “So big and crazy that nobody actually believes that it’s not the truth, until it bites you on the ass.”
“You got it,” Roxy grinned. “Mrs. Jones and I don’t actually look all that much alike in the face, but they never get past the chest and ass enough to pay attention, just remembering that poster they maybe had on their bedroom wall as a teenager. They want to believe the lie, because it gets them close to this,”