Playing A Losing Game

by MF Bishop

  Chapter Seventy Six

  "There it is," Lonnie said, "pull into the alley." He tapped Alexa lightly on the head with his gun. "Don't move, Red, I'll be right back."

  Alexa heard the creak of hinges. They drove into a garage. Bobby had talked about the garages and tunnel at Enterprise Magnetics. Lonnie opened the left back door and pulled roughly at Alexa's arm.

  "Ok, up and out. Jeezus, you're a mess." Her arms were scratched and bleeding. She realized that small bits of glass were still stuck to her cheek. Now she could see Lonnie clearly. One side of his face was bruised. He caught her glance and gingerly touched the spot. "Yeah, you owe me for that, you bitch." Then he smiled. "But you'll have a chance to make it up to me."

  Alexa's heart sank. Bad sign. And they didn't care if she saw their faces. Another bad sign. Lonnie pushed her ahead of him, up a stairway with solid concrete steps, then down a battered, trash strewn hallway. They passed glassless windows that looked out on a brick wall. This wasn't Enterprise Magnetics. The place must have once been a small factory. They didn't seem to care whether she saw where they were. Another bad sign. She was always an optimist, but Alexa had to admit she was in trouble.

  Mel waited for them in a large room furnished with four splintered kitchen chairs and a shaky looking table. There were no windows, but a battery powered lamp threw plenty of light. The door was solid and strong.

  Mel grinned. "Welcome to our crib, baby. We cleaned house just for you."

  "Yeah," Lonnie said, "this place was a fuckin' mess. This is the dirtiest city I've ever seen. Siddown." He pushed her into a chair sitting close to the wall opposite the door.

  Mel closed the door and pulled a briefcase from under the table. "Let's get this over with," he said, "we've still got the other one to bring in." Opening the case, he arranged a box and several small bottles on the table. He opened one of the boxes and brought out a hypodermic needle.

  Lonnie had been watching Mel, but now he turned to Alexa. "A shot or two of Mel's magic juice, and you'll sing like a bird, Red. But before that...."

  He held her knees loosely between his legs and touched her hair. "I'm partial to redheads," he grinned, "and now you get to make up for hitting me, bitch." He ran his hand down the side of her face and rested it on her neck.

  She pulled away. The chair tipped back several inches and hit the wall. Lonnie shifted his feet farther apart and leaned forward. His hand slid past her throat, into the opening of her blouse. "Now don't be shy, Red," he said thickly. He pulled at the top button.

  Alexa kicked him in the balls. Braced against the wall, she put power into the kick, driving her right foot up into Lonnie's crotch. Something in his groin cracked. He screamed, turned away from her and collapsed on the floor.

  Mel looked up from his chemicals. "Ah, shit," he said. He walked over to Lonnie, who was making small moaning sounds. "Dammit, Lonnie, that's what you get for not keepin' your fuckin' pants zipped. Get up and help me, you dumb bastard."

  Lonnie cried. Mel pushed him with his foot, first lightly, then harder. "Oh, God," Lonnie moaned, "Oh, God. I'm hurt bad, Mel, that bitch has hurt me bad."

  "Bullshit. Get up." Mel kicked him again.

  "I can't, I can't," Lonnie whined. "I've got to get to a doctor, Mel. I think she broke something."

  "Dammit to hell." Mel said. He returned to the table and rummaged in the briefcase. He came back and kicked Lonnie again. Lonnie moaned. Mel turned to Alexa and hit her in the face. Dazed, she toppled out of the chair. Kneeling in front of her, he hit her again. Then he held up a roll of tape. "Duct tape," he said grimly, "so you're still here when I get back."

  He hit her again, then slapped a piece of tape across her mouth. He wrapped more tape around her arms and hands, and fastened her ankles together. He got to his feet and kicked her in the ribs.

  Groggy from the blows and the pain, she barely saw Mel half carry, half drag Lonnie out the door. He reached back and turned off the light. The door closed behind them. She heard Lonnie cry and moan as they shuffled down the hall. Then she was alone in the darkness and silence.

 

  Chapter Seventy Seven

  When Bobby 'joined' the District police, all they gave him for identification was a piece of plastic with his name on it, but Alexa rated a real badge. Something to do with her status as an Army MP. Bobby thrust the badge at the DC Cellular receptionist.

  "Police business," he rasped, "get me the person in charge of your mobile location service."

  The receptionist was young and new at the job; she was having trouble talking and staying on top of the switchboard.

  "That would be Mr. Priest." The switchboard chimed softly. "DC Cellular, would you hold? DC Cell...damn, I mean darn." She looked at the badge. "If you will just have a seat, sir, I'll...."

  "No time for that," Bobby snapped, "where's his office?" He moved past the desk.

  "Oh, no, sir, you can't go back there." The receptionist stood up.

  Bobby flicked the badge again. "You're interfering with a police officer, lady. You wanna take a ride downtown?"

  "Room 105A," she said weakly, "straight down the hall on the right."

  Bobby ran down the hall. Ahead, he heard the buzz of a phone. The door to 105A was open. He went in without knocking. A short, blond man stood behind a desk, his face partly hidden by a pale beard and horn rimmed glasses.

  "How can I help you, officer?" His expression and tone radiated pompous authority. He stepped around the desk and held out his hand. Bobby ignored it.

  "We have a police officer in trouble. Abducted. May be tracked by your mobile locator service. Let's go."

  Mr. Priest looked troubled. "I'm afraid that service is only available to our regular subscribers. I don't see how we could locate...."

  Bobby grabbed the front of the little man's shirt with both hands and lifted him a few inches off the floor.

  "Urk," he said.

  "Christ on a crutch," Bobby snarled, "someone could be dying. Come on, dammit."

  "Really, officer," Mr. Priest said stubbornly, "unless you have proper authorization, there's nothing I can do."

  Bobby arms started to shake. Mr. Priest was heavier than he looked. So Bobby amplified the shaking, jerking the little man's head backward and forward as his feet waved helplessly in the air. Then Bobby slammed him against the wall, drew one fist back, cocked it.

  "You have five seconds," Bobby said. His voice sounded far away, and flat and cold. "One." He meant every word. Priest wobbled slightly and sweat beaded on his face. "Ok, sure, oh, my God." He staggered as he led them out a different door and down another hallway.

  "You're one wrong move away from jail, asshole." Bobby was amazed at the harshness in his voice.

  "You're not really a cop, are you?" Priest had regained some composure. He led the way into a room lined with computer terminals. Except for the computers, the room was empty.

  "Damn right I'm a police officer. My partner's in trouble. I aim to get her out. Cross me and I'll break you into three pieces." Bobby shoved the man a little to make his point. Priest hurried across the room.

  "What's the i.d.?" He turned on one of the computers and entered a password.

  Bobby didn't know. Every mobile unit had an identification number, but he didn't know Alexa's. He pulled up his sleeve and started the computer on his wrist. "How do I find it?" he asked.

  "Hey," Priest said, "that's one of those experimental jobs. How'd you get that?"

  "I'm a cop. Where's the damn i.d.?"

  "It's just the phone number, actually."

  Bobby swore and recited it. He liked to irritate Alexa by calling her at odd times, so he had memorized the number.

  Priest tapped the keys on one of the computers. A map of Washington appeared on the screen. A small red dot glowed in the center. He touched a
nother key, and the map expanded until they could read the street names.

  "Guam and Rhode Island." Bobby said. "That's it?"

  "That's it."

  Bobby held up his wrist computer. "You can patch that through to this one, right?"

  "Right."

  "Do it." He gave Priest the number of his computer. Priest punched furiously at the keyboard. "Ok," he said.

  Bobby pressed the stud on his computer. The screen that appeared in the air next to his hand displayed a map of Washington. The red dot glowed in the center of the map.

  "I'm leaving now," Bobby said. "Break this communications link, and I'll come back and kill you." As he ran down the hall, he heard Priest yelling.

  "I'm filing a complaint." Priest said.