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Authors: Patrick LeClerc

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BOOK: Spitting Image
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Chapter 27

WE WERE OUTSIDE the house and halfway down Marlborough Street before I let out a long breath.

“That went as well as it could have,” I said.

“Why do I like every one of these people less than the last?” asked Sarah.

“Power corrupts,” I said. “Or at least it runs the risk of turning you into a douchebag.”

“I’ve been talked down to before,” she said. “I’m a woman. My roots are working class, and I still drop my ‘r’s when I get worked up, and I work with tenured professors and the offspring of the wealthy. But this guy made me feel...like a
thing
.”

“Because that’s how he thinks of you. Of anyone who isn’t ‘gifted.’ I know it’s been a while, but if you had been around a century and a half ago, you’d have heard the same tone from slave owners. Once you start thinking certain people are a different species, anything you do to them can be justified.”

She walked beside me for a moment in silence. “Is he a different species?” she asked in a hoarse whisper. “Are you?”

I pulled in a deep breath. “There’s a bar up on the left,” I said. “If we’re going down that road, we need some booze.”

We went in, found a table in the back, and ordered two whiskies. Another thing I liked about Sarah was that she appreciated good alcohol. I took a sip, let it roll around my mouth and burn its way down to my stomach before speaking.

“I don’t really know what makes us different. I know people fear what they don’t understand, so I’ve never gone to a doctor to have him test me to see if I’m an alien. But I’m reasonably sure we’re human. I can’t believe another species would be so identical to humans. The biology is too similar. My guess is that these ‘gifts’ are mutations. Helpful ones, ones that would be passed down, and ones that people would select for once they figured it out. That makes a lot more sense than a whole different species walking around undetected for millennia. Now, could some ancient aliens have landed on Earth and bred with humans, or done experiments on some humans and these traits are a legacy of that? Sure.

“But even if– and this is a huge if– I found out I was an alien or some offshoot of the evolutionary tree, like my people went one way and Homo Sapiens went another, I am human because I choose to be. Because I don’t think people who can’t do what I do are subhuman. Lots of people don’t have my charm or good looks or roguish smile either. But I stand with people, and work with people and value the companionship of people. I tried to explain it to Doors last winter, when he was sure I’d ‘gone native.’

“That’s what the Brits and Americans used to say if you started to sympathize with whoever they were exploiting. Human on human violence and degradation for you. No speciesism required.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just don’t know how to react to this. I hate these people.” She tossed her drink back and signaled the waitress to bring another. “Except for you, every ‘gifted’ person I’ve met has been an asshole.”

Only in Boston could I meet a beautiful, educated woman who could belt single malt and curse with such casual skill. Warmed my heart.

“I know this sounds horrible, but I kinda want you to lure them into this trap, then you and Bob and John could just shoot all of them.”

“The idea has a certain appeal,” I agreed.

“I don’t really, intellectually want you to kill anyone,” she said. “I just viscerally hate these people. They kidnapped me, and I can’t believe what they did to you. And you managed to keep your cool with the man who actually did the torturing. Don’t you just want to choke him?”

“More than you can imagine,” I said. “But the goal isn’t the nice warm feeling I’d get from strangling my old buddy Brad. It’s ending the threat. To me, and my friends. And you.”

I finished my drink. “I can forego the pleasure of revenge to guarantee that.”

“There you go, getting all picky about results,” she said. “Considering the consequences. That’s not like you. Maybe I should ask you the password.”

“I may have acted rashly in the heat of the moment a time or two,” I conceded. “And when attacked, the goal is to survive, and if that involves some undirected violence, so be it. But an attack or a trap should be planned with an end in mind. It’s not enough to go do some damage. If you don’t think further ahead, you just wind up in a quagmire. No point taking out one enemy if that just earns you two more.”

“So you think this plan can fix the whole problem?”

“I think it’s the best chance we have,” I said. “If I just go to war with the family, they have a lot more resources than we do. If this works, then they won’t have any interest in coming after me.”

“And if it goes to hell?”

“Then we always have undirected violence to fall back on.”

She laughed at that, shaking her head. She smiled at me as she brought her second whisky to her lips, and I felt a flutter in my chest.

Here we were again, facing stupid, dangerous odds and she was able to keep her cool, and even laugh in the face of them. I wanted to kiss her. Hell, I wanted to tear her clothes off and make love to her on the table, but things were just too strained.

And the bar might never let us come back.

I felt myself start to say something. “We make a good team,” or “I miss this.” Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but I was sure I could see the thought in her eyes as well. I kept my mouth shut, though. I didn’t want to spoil the moment by calling attention to it.

“How can you be sure you didn’t already pass on your genes?” asked Sarah. “I mean, you did ... you were with her, so theoretically...”

“No,” I said. “There’s no chance.”

“But,” she looked around, lowered her voice. “I’m on birth control, so if she wasn’t, and you didn’t use...”

I took a breath. “It’s...complicated. I can nudge a person’s physical reactions. That’s how I can heal. I nudge the cells to do what they want to do only better and faster. So when I’m intimate with a woman, I kinda nudge the hormone levels so she won’t get pregnant.”

“Hmm,” she pondered for a moment.

“That and I faked all my orgasms.”

That got a laugh. A real one. The kind that started as a short giggle and then bubbled and spilled out into uncontrollable shaking, and finally full throated laughter, head thrown back, hands braced on the table. I’m sure it was a release of tension, an emotional safety valve for all the pressure of the past few days.

It was contagious. I tried to hold it in, but soon I was helpless in its grip, rocking in my chair as the laughter took me.

There’s a reason we use “hysterical” to refer to both things that are funny and for people caught in the grip of madness.

After a long time it passed. Subsiding like an ebbing wave, leaving us gasping like shipwrecked sailors washed on a beach.

“Oh,” she said between breaths. “I needed that. But. Back on topic. You prevent conception? Always?”

I shrugged. “I’ve always known I probably wouldn’t be around for long, and I didn’t want to leave a trail of women saddled with my poor offspring. I need companionship, but I didn’t want to leave a bunch of single mothers and fatherless kids behind me. I think that would be a bit unfair to everyone.”

“They say something like a quarter of the world is related to Genghis Khan. I guess if you didn’t take precautions, you’d be in the running.”

“I’m not sure if the world is ready for that.”

“It’s too bad in a way.”

“You want kids?”

“Oh, God, no,” she said. “Not anytime soon, anyway. I just think that a world where more people shared your genes might be a world I’d like to live in.”

I didn’t say anything. If I did, it would just throw the fact of our odd, partial separation into stark relief. She’d remember why she thought we shouldn’t be together, and her warm, knowing smile would turn fragile, her eyes would slide away from mine and she’d have to remind me that she had asked for space to think.

Oh, she’d try to do it gently, but some things just can’t be done gently. It would be like getting tenderly garroted with piano wire.

So I just kept my mouth shut and smiled back.

If I’m any judge of women, and you’d think the years would have taught me to be, she was thinking something similar. We could bask in the warm glow of togetherness just as long as we didn’t acknowledge it, or look too closely.

Chapter 28

“ARE YOU fucking nuts?” asked Pete.

I shoved back my chair and looked at the group. John stood leaning against a wall, arms folded, a smirk on his lips. Bob sat expressionless, watching reactions and making calculations. Feeling out how much he could depend on each individual to do their part. Nique looked at me with one eyebrow raised. Only Sarah looked convinced.

“I said it’s our best chance,” I replied. “I never said it was a good idea.”

“So, let me see if I have this,” said Nique. “Just so we know we’re on the same page. After you were kidnapped and tortured, you are going to have this guy– the same one who did the torture– set up a meeting. And you are going to go along as bait? I just want to be sure I didn’t mishear any of that.”

“That’s the plan.”

“If you want,” offered Pete, “I could save us a lot of effort and just torture you right here.”

“Sean, sweetie,” said Nique, “he does work with you for twenty- four hours a week. He’s probably got it down.”

“My old buddy Brad is our only way to get to them,” I said. “And we need them to bring the whole gang. If we don’t get them all, it won’t work. After what happened the last few times I tangled with them, they’ll want to come loaded for bear. So they’ll show. They won’t know I’m ready, they won’t know I have backup.”

“Your backup is a hot teacher, two scary old dudes, one incredibly sexy paramedic and Nique,” said Pete. “That’s what you’re going to get when you call the cavalry.”

“I’d rather you didn’t call me ‘the cavalry,’” said John. “There’s some old issues there.”

“This is the only thing that has a chance to work,” said Bob, breaking his silence. “There’s plenty of things we could do to annoy them, maybe hurt them a little, but they have a lot more resources and sooner or later, we’d lose. This is a knockout punch. If it works, we win the war, not just a battle.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” asked Pete.

“Chances are we all get killed,” said John. “But don’t worry. It is a good day to die.”

“It’s a better one to live,” I said. “So let’s aim for that and make sure we all have our jobs down pat.”

“So, still no chance you’re not interested in handing them a sample in a cup?” asked Pete. “Hell, I’ll jerk off in a cup right now and we can pass it off. They probably won’t notice until the kid gets taller than you. So that’s an easy eight years of peace.”

I let that slide past. I’d gotten used to that one. I hadn’t been short when I followed Napoleon. I’d been tall when I’d followed Caesar, but over the past century or so, everyone has kinda sprouted past me.

“Not interested. I wouldn’t want a kid raised by these psychos. Not even your kid.”

“I don’t know,” said Nique. “The amoral opportunism genes would be halfway there anyway.”

Chapter 29

AFTER AN HOUR, we had run through the plan, and likely glitches enough to feel as comfortable as we were going to.

“Ok,” I said. “That’s enough. Now let’s bring Brad his phone and have him make the call. Bob, I’m going to ask you to loom threateningly in case he gets cold feet.”

We walked into the office. Brad looked up, too quickly. He tried to keep his expression neutral, I could see the battle between fear and hope behind his eyes. As far as he knew, he was only alive as long as he was useful. That wasn’t entirely true. I wouldn’t shoot him just for refusing to help, but if he even looked like he was selling me out, I wouldn’t lose any sleep over putting him down.

“OK,” I handed him the phone. “Make the call. Tell them you’re going to lead me to the place we told you. Everybody shows up and this goes smooth, nobody has to die. We all get on with our lives like we never met.”

Brad picked up the phone, scrolled through his contacts and pressed the screen.

“Hi,” he said in Sarah’s voice. “It’s Brad. I have Danet with me... We’re going to a cabin up north. I’ll send you the GPS location... Yes, just the two of us. He thinks I’m the girlfriend... For now. He’s not suspicious, but hurry... Bring everybody. He’s armed, and he’s wary now... By about six tonight. I have to go.”

He ended the call. I took back his phone.

“Good job,” I said. “Just keep selling it. How many people do you think will show?”

“There are only about six people on her side of the family who know about you. She likes to play things close to the vest, so I would think it won’t be more than that.”

“OK,” I said. “How are they likely to be armed?”

“They want you alive. They’ll have guns but they’ll want to get you to surrender, so they’ll try to get in close.”

That was good, if it was true. If they wanted to capture me, they couldn’t just shoot me from cover a hundred yards away. That’s hard to guard against.

I left him, walking back out to my friends to finalize our tactics.

“So if we use this cabin,” I said, “we need to scout the area around it.”

“There’s not much out there,” said Bob. “It’s not near any good fishing. It’s close to the ski areas, but it’s the wrong season for skiing. See if you can meet on the balcony. It’s a good view of the valley, so it fits the romantic getaway cover story, but it’s also open, and there’s plenty of places I can set up with my rifle and cover it.”

“That’s not a bad idea. If I have half a dozen guys hoping to capture me, and I don’t know how Brad will react, the more friendly guns the better.”

“Why bring Brad?” asked Sarah.

“Because they’ll be expecting him to lead me there.”

“Looking like me,” she said. “So leave him here and take me. That way, you have one more ally and they have one fewer.”

Bob and I shook our heads at the same time.

“Too dangerous,” he said.

“I don’t like it,” I said at the same time.

“Turn down the chivalrous act,” she said. “It makes sense. They think you think you’re with me. If you’re with a disguised Brad, you’ll give it away. You’re not that good an actor. Anyone watching you and him will know you’re thinking of shoving him off the balcony. If it’s really me, you’ll be convincing.”

“I’ve faked my way through things before,” I protested.

“Go put your arm around Brad. Let your hand linger on the small of his back. Whisper in his ear,” she said. “You do all that, maybe I’ll believe you could fool these people. They’re professional deceivers. They’ll be good at spotting mistakes.”

“So what if they see you not acting right?” asked Bob.

“You think Brad does a better me than I do?” she shot back. “Besides, they will be looking for Sean to give himself away, not me.”

“She has a point,” said John. “You can’t look at the guy who tortured you the same way you look at your girlfriend.”

“I’ll carry a gun,” she said. “If they get the drop on you, they won’t expect me to be a threat. This will work. And I have a score to settle too, you know.”

“What if you get hurt?” asked John.

“I know a guy who’s really good at fixing that kind of thing,” she said with a twisted smile.

BOOK: Spitting Image
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