Page 101 of Double Shot
“You only had half your toes thelasttime I saw you,” he said, taking a drag off his own cancer stick. I handed him back his lighter, and he tucked it away inside his breast pocket.
“Same number now.” I gave a laugh. “Only one foot gets cold in the winter. How is your employer doing, I understand there was scrap yesterday?”
“Aye, there was a scrap.” He puffed on his cigarette. “She got nicked a few times, nothing serious. She’s mighty pissed off, as you can imagine.” He flicked ash off the end into the gutter.
“Indeed, so what’s the plan then?” I asked, taking a drag off of mine, the harsh chemicals and tobacco invading my mouth, drying it.
“Helo evac in about thirty minutes, bird is in the air and inbound. If you’re going to try something you don’t have long to do it,” he said.
“It’s danger close here, so no,” I said. He relaxed the slightest amount. “Did she hire you?”
“Not like that, no. Guillame brought me in, and I was handling some of his security restructuring. Next thing I know, I’m still obligated by contract, I’m out of the command loop, and the old general’s heart quit. He wasn’t a spring chicken by any means, but he wasn’tthatold.”
“I think he was assassinated,” I offered.
“I think so, too. Too convenient him pushing daisies that quick after getting that truce.”
“Kurt, did you have a hand in that?” I asked. He nodded. “The truce, aye. Not that other bit. Bad business, that.”
“Aye,” I agreed. “Bad business, that.”
“You can’t let business get personal,” he said. “That’s when you get sloppy and make mistakes. Like when Dobson went out with his patrol after those two Talibani shot up his buddy. Got torqued, went out mad, and got himself and six other lads shot up. I’m pretty sure he would have been court-martialed for disobeying orders and misappropriating equipment if he hadn’t been so ventilated.”
“He was a good lad, though,” I said.
“He was, and now he’s dead. I think we should both see what we can do to stay above ground,” Kurt replied. He flicked the cigarette into the street. “We’re flying out in a few minutes, I’m interested in trying the local barbecue where we’re headed. The brisket is apparently a big deal there.” He gave me a not-insignificant look. “Take care of yourself, Captain,” he said and gave a minimal salute and walked back into the hotel. I likewise dropped my cigarette and ground it out. I waited a few minutes and then called Lach and Sadie.
“Go ahead and see if you can call in and grab us a table, we aren’t going to get anything here today but lunch,” I said. There was a fuss in the car and they both appeared out of the parking area. Sadie looked cross and Lach annoyed following after her. As they came within walking distance, the sound of the helicopter became audible.
“Where is she, who was that?” Sadie demanded.
“She’s about to take her leave.” I pointed up as the helicopter passed overhead and landed on top of the hotel. “She’s about thirty floors up, on the roof, getting on that helo.”
“If we run…” Sadie’s eyes were wide.
“She has a security detail now, the man I was talking to was its commander, I served with him over in Afghanistan. Good chap. If he has control of her security, we won’t get close to her now.”
“I knew we should have been quicker getting here,” Sadie growled.
“I’m guessing it was Kurt who got her in this place and organized the evac, but don’t worry,” I said, tapping the side of my nose, “I know where they’re going, and what we’re going to do about it.”
“What’s the plan?” Lach asked.
“First things first, I understand that there is a special on oysters today, and the blue crab is always fresh here,” I said.
“Oh my God,really?” Sadie huffed.
“Yes, she’s in the air now.” I pointed as the helo took off again, circled the building once, and then flew away. “We can’t do anything to her unless you happen to have a Stinger missile in your clutch.”
“Where is she going, mate, what’s the plan?” Lach asked and sounded frayed. Precisely why now was not the time.
“She’s going back to Texas, and that means either the compound we’ve shot up once already, or somewhere associated with Emerson. He might be her patron now, no telling,” I said. “But in the meantime, Sadie needs time for that shoulder to heal up, and it’s time for lunch. Patience is a virtue.”
“So are poverty and chastity, but I have no time for either of those either.” Lach gave me his now traditional response.
I merely chuckled and led the way to the Powhattan’s restaurant, knowing surely that Lach and Sadie would follow.
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