HARD CASE (A John Harding Novel - Special Ops, Cage Fighter, CIA Agent) (2 page)

“I thought we… I mean… did you… think maybe we could continue this?”

“I like you, Tess. I enjoy seeing you.” I hope it’s enough. It isn’t.

“Some things would have to change if we continue seeing each other.”

“Think of it this way, Tess,” I try to reason with her. Yeah, that’ll work for me. “We could get to know each other first before you try changing me. Maybe I’m not so hard to take like I am.”

“You won’t even talk to me on the phone!” Tess is getting excited, but not in a good way. “I… oh hell… I don’t know what got into me the other night. You’re dangerous, John. I’m not diving into a relationship with some leg-breaker on a whim. I-”

“Why didn’t you say so?” I stand up, smiling to let her know my feelings aren’t hurt or any other whiney metro-man crapolla I hear about all the time. “Calm down, Tess, I won’t stalk you or anything. Thanks for dinner. It was great. Maybe we can do business sometime in the future. No hard feelings, right?”

Tess runs around the table as I’m trying to make good my escape.

“Wait a second. I’m trying to be reasonable here. If you’d-”

“Tess!” I hold up my hands in surrendering fashion, which doesn’t help. “Let’s part company as friends. Goodnight.”

After the set to at her house I didn’t get a call from their firm for a couple months. Tommy and me managed a few extra pickup fights and handled the usual stuff from other bail firms and PI’s in the area who like me along for the ride sometimes. See, I don’t talk to no one. I’m all business. Whatever they want done, they give Tommy the details and he briefs me, just like in the service. Then Tommy noticed Tess in the audience of our fight gigs, trying to keep a low profile. I thought it was kind a flattering. She came up real apologetic after a fight and asked if she could buy Tommy and me a beer.

When we were seated with a beer down at the ‘First and Last Chance Saloon’ in Jack London Square, Tess pulls a contract out of her briefcase. Tommy looks it over and laughs. This doesn’t go over well with Tess.

“It’s the standard fee, Tommy,” Tess tells him.

“That’s fine for standard work, but John here doesn’t do standard work.”

“Over half the time he doesn’t do anything at all,” Tess argues. “Your fee for a few hours work is too high.”

“Well then, thanks for the beer,” Tommy replies, and we all lapsed into an uneasy silence.

“John?” Tess looks at me expectantly after a few moments.

“Tommy’s my agent, Tess. You know that. Sorry our way of doing business doesn’t suit your firm’s needs.”

Tess turns red in the face. She’s not blushing, but it’s cute just the same.

“Fine! What would it take to get an exclusive on John’s work?”

“We don’t do exclusive,” Tommy answers. “One job from your competitors would be worth more than any retainer you could offer. We work case by case. I’ll look over what you want done, price the job, and you decide yes or no, same as the last couple times we worked together.”

Tess grabbed the contract and stuffed it back in her briefcase. She took out a folder and handed it to Tommy. It was a skip trace on some guy named Ishmael Ali. They knew where he was but they had no clue how to get him. Tommy laughed again.

“Your firm issued a bond on this guy?” Tommy asks incredulously. “Who the hell provided the collateral?”

“I can’t discuss that. I take it you are familiar with Mr. Ali.”

“He’s a stone killer and a psycho to boot. Anything he got caught doing is like a tiny portion of what he’s done.” Tommy took out his notepad and wrote down an estimate with his signature. He handed it to Tess and she nearly had a stroke.

“That’s more than we make on the case!”

“Your firm made a mistake. We clean it up - you pay the piper. You don’t like the tune, you’re free to shop it elsewhere.”

Tess stood up, gathered her things and walked out.

“That went well.” Tommy took a sip of his beer.

“We know where Ali hangs out. It’s a good gamble, T. If they don’t find another taker, we’ll make a nice piece of change.”

“You can’t kill him, John.” Tommy leaned towards me. “We’ll never collect this playing ‘Wanted, Dead or Alive’.”

“I’d do Ali free.” I didn’t like him. We’d had words after a match he lost a lot of money on betting against me. Ali threatened me. Tommy intervened because he knows I handle threats on the spot and he’d seen some of Ali’s crew coming up on us. I didn’t want Tommy to get hurt in some stupid crossfire so I let it go. Tommy was right as usual. Now I might get to play around with Ali and collect a paycheck for it.

“No you won’t, John. We don’t do anything for free. You’ll figure a way-”

“We’ll pay it,” Tess said. I had spotted her reentering the bar.

“I’ll come by and pick up our retainer tomorrow.” Tommy was pissed Tess had caught him off guard.

Tess sat down again, looking at me. “Why the hell do you risk getting killed in those stupid street fights?”

“I can’t draw, write, or paint, and everyone needs a hobby,” I joke with her. At least Tommy laughs. “There’s no why. We make a lot of money and I’m good at it.”

Anyway, since then, the three of us have an understanding. I went into the bar we knew Ali liked to frequent. I Tasered him and knocked a couple of his crew down while Tommy showed the rest of them our equalizer: the riot gun. No muss, no fuss. Ali eventually came to saying he was going to kill my whole family. We delivered him without incident. I gave Ali my Dad’s last known address in case he decided to make good on his threat.

Now, here we are, together again. Tommy decided he wanted some late night breakfast, so the three of us headed for the Buttercup Pantry by the train station at Jack London. I ordered some rye toast with coffee. Tess settled for tea. She didn’t say anything until after the waitress brought our food. We’d been doing business long enough it wasn’t really an uncomfortable silence though.

“I see you’re still getting your head busted for money,” Tess said after Tommy and I started eating.

“You could call Tommy and leave a message,” I suggested.

“Slinky only comes to watch so in case you lose she’ll get to gloat,” Tommy added.

Tess knows not to let us bait her anymore. She smiles.

“Let’s cut to the chase and save the usual banter for another time.”

“How may we be of service, Ms. Connagher?” Tommy asks her formally.

“John speaks Arabic. We have a client’s daughter coming to San Francisco for a visit from Saudi Arabia. Her Father wishes his daughter protected. How much for six days round the clock?”

Yeah, I speak Arabic, Farsi, Pashtu, Russian, Chinese, French, and Spanish, thanks to immersion training with the Marines and CIA over the years. It’s not on the stat sheet Tess has on me. Even Tommy only knows about the Spanish. To my credit, I don’t blink. I just smile amiably as I rack my brain for how in hell Tess could find something like that out. Tommy chuckles waiting for me to deny it. His face lights up when I don’t. He reaches for his notepad.

“Oh, Slinky, the price of potatoes just went up. Interpreter/Bodyguard is a very specialized field, especially with exotic languages.” Tommy jots some notes down. He tears out the page and hands it to Tess.

“Jesus H-!

“Don’t blaspheme,” I interrupt gently.

“I didn’t have to tell you I knew he spoke Arabic,” Tess protests. “You didn’t even know, Tommy. I… oh the hell with it… I’ll give them the figure.”

“Sounds good.” Tommy stands up, pointing at me. “I have to get home tonight. Rachel’s making me take the kids to soccer tomorrow morning because of my no account, lazy, shiftless soul. You get some rest. We got another lamb tomorrow night.”

“See ya, Tommy.” Tommy has nearly every penny he ever earned. He lives real well with his wife and two teenagers, a girl and a boy.

“G’night, Slinky,” Tommy tells Tess as he’s leaving.

“Goodnight, you Pirate!” Tess turns on me. “Well?”

“Well what? You know Tommy’s my agent.”

“Want to tell me how a woman living in Saudi Arabia would know to ask for you as a bodyguard by name.”

“And this lady’s name would be?” Samira Karim. I knew it had to be her but I don’t volunteer anything.

“Karim is her last name. She told me you were her family’s bodyguard in Afghanistan until they could be moved to Saudi Arabia. You saved their lives.”

“I wasn’t alone. How did she know to contact you?”

“The State Department put her in touch with me,” Tess explained. “They know right where you are.”

Chapter Two

Scapegoat

True, they still keep in touch, which is why I’m fluent in a multitude of languages, thanks to a one week intensive follow-up training gig every couple months. Tommy thinks I have a mistress in Virginia. They believe they own me. One day I may have to carve a couple of them up. For now, when they ask me to slip in somewhere occasionally, I do it without bellyaching about it. Usually I’m only used when no one wants to see a particular person ever again. This was a new wrinkle. If they contacted Tess, it must be voluntary. Samira was only a skinny eleven year old girl when I went along with them for the trip out of country. Some of us guys and the Northern Alliance had barely gained a foothold when it was decided Samira and her family were to be moved to Saudi Arabia for their protection. Her Father had been the catalyst allowing us to establish a presence in Afghanistan. The Taliban had reportedly sent assassination teams after them. We found out later how accurate our intel was.

“So, what do you want to know?”

“Everything,” Tess urged. “You can trust me.”

I wonder if those morons in the State Department knew what they were doing to me. Yeah, they knew. I’ll have to pay them back somehow. I’ll give it some thought.

“Trust you with what?”

“You really aren’t some double digit IQ leg-breaker, are you?”

“Is that what you thought I was?”

“Can you answer a simple question without asking your own?”

“Why should I?” I see the cute twist of annoyance and smile at her.

“You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”

“No.”

“I like you, John,” Tess states with irritating honesty, irritating to me anyway. “It was my fault we started off on the wrong foot. Then, on top of giving you short shrift, I badmouth you for killing the drug dealer, knowing I could have ended up like Pretzel. Don’t bother denying it. I knew when they found him in the back of the junkyard with his guts hanging out it was your work. Thank you.”

I never figured to hide it from her but I wasn’t about to admit we billed her firm for a couple weeks bodyguard work when I knew the guy I was protecting her from was already dead.

“Believe what you want, Tess. I like you too. We’ve been over this ground before. I do things a certain way, and you don’t like the way I do things. We’re friends. It’s dangerous for you to start playing Nancy Drew with my life.”

Tess started to speak but sipped her tea instead. She looked up at me after a few moments of silence. “Could we be more than friends, John?”

“Seriously… I don’t know,” I counter, wondering where she’s headed. “We don’t fit together well, Tess. Everything I do pisses you off.”

“Not everything,” Tess replies in her sexy hushed voice that makes my toes curl up. They ain’t the only thing headed upwards. “I could change.”

Yeah, that’ll happen. My silently interested gaze puts the frown back at the corners of her mouth.

“You don’t believe me.”

“Where are you going with this, Tess? Want to go see a movie with me, hold hands in the park, put puzzles together in front of the fire place-”

“I want you to come home with me tonight,” Tess cuts me off with the heavy artillery, gazing at her teacup now held in both hands. “I want to make you breakfast tomorrow morning after you’ve turned me inside out again.”

“I stink… remember?”

“You’re stalling.” She chuckles, putting her cup down and reaching over to clasp my left hand with her right. “Don’t play hard to get. Did you really think I came out to watch you get your brains kicked in on a lark? I care about you and I… I know you care about me.”

“Let’s compromise,” I tell her, wondering inwardly if I was trying out for my metro-man stripes. “I’ll see you home tonight, have a coffee with you, and come over for breakfast first thing in the morning. Like Tommy said, I have another fight tomorrow night. We can go out to dinner afterwards if you don’t mind following me back to my place so I can shower first.”

“Well, that’s two strikes tonight.” Tess sighed and waited as the waitress delivered their bill. “First, Tommy gives me a price from an alternate reality. Then you give me the brush off. You’re not one of those pugs who think sex will weaken their legs, are you?”

“If it’ll make you feel any better, then yeah, that’s it.”

“It doesn’t.” Tess stood up, tucking twenties in the folder with the bill. “C’mon, princess, I’ll make you some coffee at my house. Did Tommy drive you or did you meet him at the fight in that junker you tool around in?”

“Hey, my old Chevy’s an heirloom,” I protest, following her toward the restaurant exit. We draw a lot of looks - beauty and the beast fans would be my guess. “Tommy drove.”