SUED FOR PEACE (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 11) (18 page)

Barnabas turned behind him to reach out and snag a folder from the table before resuming his first position. “While you were sleeping, we have done some research.”

“What the hell?” she asked, “I’m only out like eight or nine hours, and you kick my researching efforts to the side?”

“Eight or nine hours?” Barnabas asked looking over to her, “Why do you think that?”

She pointed towards the window, “Well, look outside. It’s what, noon or somewhere close?”

“Yes, but this is five days from when you got shot, Tabitha.”
 

“Five…days?” she stammered before looking down at her legs. “Oh. Well, that explains the hair, and I suppose the extra boobage cooking time, too. I got quite a soufflé here.”

“Can we stop talking about hairy legs and boobage, number two?” Barnabas asked, looking over the top of the folder he had opened.

“Sure, but why do you keep calling me number two?” she asked him as she picked up her tray to drop it back on the serving table.

“Because,” he told her as she sat back down, “It’s what Bethany Anne calls me. Although she calls me Number One like it’s a hilarious joke. She will call me her ‘Number One Ranger.’ and smile. I know there is a joke that’s relevant to her age in there somewhere, but I’ve realized I like the numbering system. So now, I’m one, you're two, and as we add more, we will add to the numbers.”

“We should totally get specially numbered badges or something so we can flash them to the bad guys. Then, I'll let them know that Ranger Two just kicked their ass.” She considered aloud.

“If you don’t let them shoot you, first,” Ryu commented.

She glanced darkly at Ryu when Barnabas wasn’t paying attention. She wondered if Bethany Anne’s blood helped her in other ways while she was recuperating. Ryu might be in store for a Ranger’s ass kicking if it did.

Which would be nice, because she was tired of the Ryu ass kicking he kept handing her.

“I’m sure that is the main reason,” Barnabas murmured as he reviewed something in the folder, “Not the fact that you would be able to flash a big Number 2 badge in front of anyone else who joins us in the future.”

“Never entered my mind,” she told him.

“Right,” he agreed.

Damn
, she thought,
he’s on to me.

“Hey,” she spoke to her guys, “while Dr. Demento over here is reading his folder, do I have any clothes?” Ryu nodded to the couch behind her, and she turned to see two bags from a local fashion clothes store. “Not that shit!” She said aloud and turned back around, mad at being provided regular clothes, “Where the hell are my leathers?”

“Ah, Barnabas,” Hirotoshi spoke as Barnabas looked up from the folder to raise his eyebrows, “She is ready to get back to work.”

Barnabas smiled and closed the folder. Tabitha saw what he was reading as he closed the folder.

That son-of-a-bitch! The papers in the folder were blank. He was just stalling to see how she reacted.

—

Barnabas left three hours later. He made sure Tabitha had learned a few more of the things that had happened in the last few days regarding TQB’s fight with China before he left, and told her that there was an effort by China to bother more companies that helped TQB manufacture.

That annoyed the ever loving shit out of her.

He made sure that Tabitha had figured out how to get the armor on appropriately and even shot her once with a twenty-two to help her learn to trust the ceramic discs. She cussed him out for two solid minutes as Barnabas stood there and allowed her to vent. She finally realized she was yelling because she had been scared of being shot again.

Barnabas had been completely surprised when she stopped yelling at him and stepped up to envelope him in a hug.

“Tabitha, what are you doing?” he had asked her, trying to keep his voice under control.

“Showing you I appreciate you helping me get past being scared of getting shot,” she told him, holding him tight.

“I’ll accept a thank-you if you promise not to do this to me again,” he told her, looking in appeal to Hirotoshi for help. Hirotoshi just shook his head very subtly.

She stepped back from him and noticed he was still standing rock still, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Tabitha, I’m still not that far away from the Barnabas that stayed aloof, understand?” he told her, and his eyes softened, “I’m not used to having close contact, physical contact, with others, ok?”

She realized he wasn’t upset with her hugging him, he was just uncomfortable with being touched by anyone. She smiled to let him know she understood.

As he was leaving, he told her that the team has tracked down who China had placed in charge of the battle with TQB and Bethany Anne had snuck into their headquarters to deliver a message. It gave China seventy-two hours to change their attitude and since that time had come and gone?

Well, then TQB was going to war.

—

Just outside of the main business district, Miguel ground his teeth together. His club, La Cola de la Zorra, was doing fine, but what wasn’t working was his agreement to hit certain businesses and get their information. George hadn’t been the best follower, but he had been a soldier who had died doing something Miguel took money to perform and now a portion of his followers were starting to grumble. Some about taking the jobs in the first place, but more about Miguel’s inability to get a fix on those who had killed George.

After the first couple of days, Miguel had to take José aside and have a friendly talk to remind him to stop discussing how the girl had taken three bullets to her back and then rose back up to kill George and walked out as if three major wounds didn’t bother her.

That wasn’t helping the other guys who were concerned that the mysterious woman and her two friends would show up again.

Last night, Miguel had told his men to hit another company on the south side of town, and they had been successful. Unfortunately, eight guys had gone, and it had only needed three. It showed how scared his men were becoming.

“Boss?” Miguel turned from looking out at the club floor where only a handful of men were, to regard Boz, his accountant.

He drew in a lungful of smoke from his cigarette, “Yeah, what’s up?”

Boz looked around the dark club to make sure no one was listening, “Boss,” he whispered, “have you approved any funds transfer out of your accounts?”

Miguel ran his tongue around his mouth while he got his emotions under control. He shook his head in the negative and reached forward to stub out his cigarette. He slid out of the booth as Boz stepped back to follow him. Both walked towards the back of the club, past the girl’s poles and finally behind a curtain to enter the back of the club. He walked past the girl’s dressing room and took a left, ending at a door that required a passcode to enter. Right now, with just him, Boz and Rickie, who was on the front door, there wasn’t any security on this door. In another half-hour, his guy Cooch would show up and stand here. Two hundred and fifty pounds of ugly muscle that had yet to fail him.

Finishing the code, he opened the door and pushed it hard enough that it stayed open and allowed Boz to catch it as they walked into the back two rooms. The first room, with the walls, painted white as opposed to the clubs black, and then the second room reached through a metal door, again secured with a digital lock. He punched in the second code and allowed Boz entry before closing the door and sitting down at his desk, clicking on his computer. He clicked the link to get to his bank and plugged in his security conditions.

Boz was watching his face, and noticed the tightening around his eyes before he clicked and entered in another passcode, “They hit the main accounts, but not the core.”

Miguel kept checking and then picked up the phone. He didn’t worry about Boz, he was family. His sister’s husband and had been a personal friend from way back. He checked the amounts left in his accounts, and it showed just over two thousand. He started looking at withdrawals that didn’t make sense and found four. He added up the totals in his head and realized he knew who had done this.

The withdrawals equaled the amount he had been paid by the Chinese businessman.

He heard someone pick up the phone, “Hello?” Miguel told the contact at the bank that his account had been hit, and then put Boz on the phone to deal with changing the accounts so it couldn’t happen again. “You got this?” he asked his brother-in-law who nodded.

Miguel left his office and stepped out into the main room and walked to a small locked door in the wall. Pulling out his keys, he flipped to the fourth one and inserted it into the lock and turned. Opening the door, he withdrew a .44 and a case of shells.

This had gone from business to personal. No one stole from Miguel Fuentes and got away with it. He would pay three times as much as they stole, just to find out who it was so he could deliver his response in person. He would double it if they were caught before he showed up. It was important that the delivery was his to perform, his hand had to be the one to pull the trigger and carry out the sentence.

Something he was happy to do. Not only for his money but for his reputation, and George, of course.

Holstering the pistol after confirming that it was loaded, he locked up the wall safe and turned towards the door to step outside. He would call for the informants to come this evening during the late hours.

—

Rickie was watching the small line. He had another three hours to go before the club closed at two am. Five informants had already been sent in to see Miguel. Two he knew, three were probably hoping they could make a name for themselves.

He noticed three people turning the corner a quarter block down the street and checked his pistol’s location. They all walked with the effortless grace that spoke of training. That gliding stride that meant they were always ready to strike or block. It came from practicing martial arts for a long time, and Rickie had seen it in a few.
 

The only reason he didn’t back into the club right away was that the person in front was a short, foxy woman. She wasn’t that tall so the two behind her were probably protection. Maybe a daughter of someone important was slumming. Although the two protectors were Asian, maybe Japs, he thought. The short one was definitely Hispanic and, lord almighty, she had an hourglass figure.

If he were lucky, she was slumming and wanted to show a little tail while living on the wild side for a night. Hell, that wasn’t going to happen. Rickie never got that kind of stories to tell.

She was wearing a black leather jacket and black leather pants. It looked a little martial, but on her tight ass, it was hot as hell, and he didn’t mean the sweaty kind.

He put up a hand as they stepped to the end of the line and wave them up front.

“Senorita,” he told her when they stepped up, “Miguel sends his respects and appreciates you visiting his establishment for your entertainment.”

“Does he?” she asked him, smiling a mischievous smile, “He really likes his nights exciting, does he?”

Damn, he was going to get a chubby just letting her in if he wasn’t careful. “Yes, he would sincerely appreciate it if you stopped by to introduce your lovely self. Tell him Rickie passed you in.” He winked back, hell he might get lucky, and you always got a hundred percent of nothing if you asked for nothing.
 

She smiled and patted him on the arm as she passed, “Stay here Rickie, you will enjoy life more.”

The first Asian passed him by and nodded his head. The second passed and caught Rickie’s attention by pointing to his own eyes.

Those eyes glowed red slightly, and he leaned in toward Rickie to quietly whisper, “Stay here, guarding your post as Miguel has commanded no matter what you hear.”
 

Rickie nodded his head, “I’ll stay here, no worries.”
 

TQB Base, Australian Outback

Yuko had spent the last three days acclimating to the new Australian base, as it was called. It was weird, as most of it was underground. Or, at least under a little red dirt. The dry, barren wasteland had its own allure, but she had to admit it wasn’t nearly as beautiful as her country.

When she descended from space, it was dark. She asked where the airport was for the Pods, and Bethany Anne chuckled and told her there wasn’t one. She helped Yuko get out of the Pod, which then left and went back up into the night.

“What if we need to all leave?” she asked, a little concerned.

“Then we pick up the base and move it,” Bethany Anne told her as they walked towards an eight-foot wide opening sticking out of the ground.

“Is this a shipping container?” Yuko asked as they walked into the entrance and started walking down the angled incline.

“Yup,” Bethany Anne agreed, “This whole base is made up of shipping containers. Some of them have sides cut out so we make bigger rooms, and some are flight ready. So, if we need to suddenly leave, you get to your assigned container or the closest one to you, and when the buttons are pushed, we leave Earth behind in a sudden universal bug-out. We are living in here like we are up there,” she pointed up to the sky with her finger, “So we are roughing it and learning at the same time. Whatever we can’t seem to produce ourselves, we are buying by the shipping container load and sending them up to the moon for now.”

“Why not to the space-station you have?”

“We don’t want it to grow too fast, it would bug the politicians across the world.” Bethany Anne responded and nodded to two guards who allowed the two through a small, secured door.

“How big would it be?” She asked as her eyes took in the huge room. She counted the seams across the top. The room had to be about two containers long by eight wide. So, just over five thousand square feet in size.
 

“Well,” Bethany Anne continued walking through the large room. There were many round tables occupied. Some looked like people were eating, others meeting and a few were empty, “this is our central meeting area, by the way. It won’t move into space, so don’t come here if we have to leave. Back to your question. If we actually pulled all of our containers together, it would be over fifty-thousand.”