Brigends (The Final War Series Book 1) (9 page)

Paz stopped. “Yu an me, pute. Cont on it.”

Max gave him a wink, not allowing the brute his boisterous save-face. Paz stomped away, leaving as the loser — for the time being.

Patti closed the door quick, fearing Cho would change his mind. She didn’t see the deal as an improvement, but it would have to do.

Regardless of her arbitration, Max pouted. “Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea what he’ll do to me if I don’t get the money?”

“Probably something really bad, I know.” She grabbed his earlobe and tugged on it to the point of almost ripping the fleshy appendage from his head. “What were you thinking, going behind Cho’s back? And, getting mixed up with the Vegas? My God, Max, do you ever mucking think?”

“I was just trying to make some money.”

“Money? Honestly, was it worth almost getting killed?”

“But, I didn’t get killed, did I?”

She released his ear and pulled him into her arms. “I swear you’re going to be the death of me.”

“I’m not a kid, okay,” he said, squirming free. “I wasn’t taking a risk. If those two dinks hadn’t mucked up, then I wouldn’t be in trouble.”

Patti went to her desk and refilled the glass with whiskey from the bottle. In her agitation, she spilled a splash on the polished surface. “Please, promise me you’ll stop with this bounty hunting crap.”

“Hunting is legitimate work.”

“No, it’s not. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“If it’s not, then how come you let the bookies work the pools here?”

“No more running with the hunters! Do you hear me?”

“Then how am I supposed to square with Cho? You haven’t left me with options.”

“I don’t know. If I had the credit, I’d give it to you. But, I don’t. Running the club eats up almost everything.”

He rolled his eyes. “Figures. Funds dry up when I need you.”

“I don’t care what you think. For now, at least you’re safe.” She chugged the drink. “That’s all any mother cares about.”

“Why? You’re not my mother.” He regretted saying it the moment the insensitive words jumped from his mouth.

“Right — what was I thinking?” Patti carefully sat in her chair, hiding the emotional kick to her gut. She twisted around to face the roll of surveillance screens behind her.

His thoughtlessness shocked even him. She could at times be a first-rate tyrant, but he knew deep down she loved him and was just looking out for his welfare. It was easy for him to ignore the stress he put her through and pretend she was the baddie. Well, it was only easy when he didn’t feel like a heartless prick.

He looked at an old framed photograph hanging on the wall. In it, she was dancing on a stage. In her youth she had been a stunning beauty. It never bothered him that in the image she was scantily clad with only two feathery fans to cover her modesty. What attracted him to the picture was her expression of inherent regality. Her confidence made the image a thing of exquisiteness.

He looked at the real her. Gone were her blonde tresses; silver strands had replaced those long ago. Her cheeks no longer had a ruby blush. Now there was a pallor accentuating her wrinkling face. She was timeworn, sitting there in her expensive imported leather chair and drinking her high priced Irish whiskey. She could pretend to enjoy her lavish life, but he saw underneath the veneer. He saw the unhappiness he was responsible for.

A random blip appeared on one of the monitors and she noticed right off. Flicking a switch on the console, the camera zoomed in on the image of Zoe doing a terrible job of going unnoticed.

Patti twisted back to her desk and punched the link box. “Tank?”

He responded, “Yeah?”

“We have an unwanted visitor near the backrooms.”

“No problem. I’ll take care of it.”

“No. Bring her to me.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. You’ll recognize this one. She’s a real pain in the ass.”

“What if she refuses to come quietly?”

“I’m sure you can persuade her.” Patti reclined and rubbed her forehead. She didn’t look at him. “If you would excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

“Hey, I’m sorry about what I —”

“If you don’t mind showing yourself out, I’m busy.”

He was a scolded child again, leaving the room without saying another word.

He waited at the top of the stairs for his lip to stop quivering. Regaining some composure, he walked down. Every step felt as if it was his last. A lot had transpired, some of which he refused to accept blame for. None of it bothered him as much as what he said to her.

Zoe watched him from afar, unsure of her next move. The problem — how to approach him. A little over twelve hours earlier, he had a gun in her face. It would be hard for either of them to forget.

Max disappeared into the crowd. While switching spots to find him, a large obstruction lumbered in front of her, blocking the view. She looked up to see Tank brimming from ear to ear. His wide face brought relief to hers.

“You know, you make a better wall than a window.”

He picked her up and she dangled in his thick embrace. “Damn good to see you again, Captain.”

“Ok — ok, you big softie.”

He put her down. Once she regained her steadiness, she gave him a playful punch in the chest, making him wince.

He rubbed the sore and laughed, “Yeah, same old Chica.”

“Let me guess, she sent you to kick me out?”

“No, not this time. She wants to see you. Well, you gonna come quietly or do I have to persuade you?”

She didn’t see Max anywhere. “No, of course not. Okay, let’s not keep her highness waiting. Who knows when this invitation will come again?”

On the opposite corner of the dance floor, Max had seen Tank’s interaction with the woman responsible for his misfortune. It was apparent they were acquainted. What made it worse — they were actually happy to see one another.

What’s going on was his million-mark question.

“Enter!”

Tank escorted the intruder inside. Patti stared at her over the brim of the half-full glass. The other poked her hands inside pockets and stared back.

The growing tension bothered the big guy. “Uh, should I stay?”

Patti shooed him out. He didn’t wait for her to change her mind. Once alone with Zoe, an awkward silence followed. She continued to drink from her glass with her attention fixed on the younger woman.

Zoe waited for her to say something. She finally ended the face-off. “Nice place. You did good for yourself.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Don’t worry yourself none. I was passing by and thought I would drop in for a drink.”

“Oh, really? My place is too upscale for the likes of you.”

The barb smarted. “Yeah, you’re right. This place is cold and, what’s the word — audacious. It lacks a woman’s touch.”

Patti’s mouth flinched. “You were to stay as far away from us as possible, remember? We don’t need your trouble here. Take a hint; keep walking the next time you feel like a drink.”

“Sure, see you around.” She went for the door.

Patti got up. “If this has anything to do with Max, you better think twice and leave him alone.”

Zoe opened the door and without turning, countered, “By the way, great job raising him. He’s a real gangster.” She walked out, slamming the door to claim the last word.

Tank was waiting for her with his massive left arm layered atop of his slimmer right biomech one. There was a feeling of relief; neither woman tried to kill the other.

Her brigend mark flared again and she scratched it, not caring if anyone saw her. “I see she’s still a bitch. Damn it, how can you work for her?”

“It has its perks. Besides, she’s been good to me and Max.”

“You should work for me and do something honorable with your life again.”

“I like it here just fine, Captain. The war’s long over.”

“No, Sergeant, it never ended.”

He didn’t argue with her. He understood how bad it was in the real world for their kind. “What can ya do? We gotta survive somehow.”

“I didn’t have a sponsor like you did to keep me out of trouble,” she said, referring to his lack of a mark.

“Oh, you know it ain’t that way. Maybe if you had asked her for help, who knows what might’ve happened.”

He was right, but she would never admit it. They walked in silence down the majestic staircase and through the crowd. He was dismayed by how she had become someone he didn’t recognize; full of bitterness and defeat. Where was the girl with the devil-may-care abandonment?

As any good-hearted person would do when meeting a comrade who had lost her way, he blamed himself. It wasn’t true in the slightest, but his oversized heart wouldn’t believe otherwise.

By the time they reached the hallway running to the rear exit, he had stopped showing her the way out. She went peacefully, not wanting to cause him any further trouble with the boss lady.

After she departed, a persistent thought plagued him. What if he had done things differently? Would she have turned out like this?

He owed her his life.

Zoe paced in the alley, disappointedly absent of a plan. The Luma Lounge was the only place she knew where to find the kid. The club was a known hotspot for hunters and she couldn’t risk hanging around longer. It had been foolish to search for him here.

She moved to leave, but sensed someone spying on her. Reaching for her gun, she quickly recognized who it was by the sound of his breathing. “I could’ve shot you.”

Max rolled the bike into the light of the security lamps. “Are you following me?”

“It looks that way, don’t it? Yeah, I guess I am... Max.”

“You know my name?”

“I know a lot about you.”

“That’s creepy. Why are you here?”

“I want to know why you let me go this morning. You had me dead to rights.”

“I don’t know.”

“You sure? There had to be a reason.”

The conversation was meaningless. He didn’t have an explanation for the inexplicable feeling that stayed his hand. He straddled the bike. “Look. I’m not in the mood. This has been one big crappy day for me. So, if that’s all you wanted, I’d like to get on my merry way.”

She blocked the front tire. “There’s not many who can keep up with me the way you did. You have skills. Kind of skills that are better suited helping people rather than locking them up.”

He laughed.
Here’s another one looking to cash in on my freak abilities
. “Hey, I hunt brigends. I don’t hunt down anyone who doesn’t deserve it,” he said, ignoring the fact he wasn’t a legitimate hunter.

Brigends... it was a slur with a strange history. Most likely the label started when some long ago bureaucrat misspelled another word. To that key-rider, the dissidents were no different from common criminals, so who cared about the spelling? Brigand or brigend... what difference did it make?

It made a world of difference to her. “Keep saying that, maybe you’ll convince yourself someday. Max, you’re working for the problem, not against it.”

“You sound like...”

“Like who?”

“Never mind.”

“You don’t know about the bad stuff the hunters have done. You don’t know about the families they’ve torn apart.”

The mention of families bothered him. He cranked the bike. “I don’t care. The pay’s good. Save your breath trying to recruit me, unless you got money.”

She had to be clever or lose him for good. “I have a job if you’re interested. I can pay you.”

That worked. She got his attention.

“How much?” he asked, pretending indifference.

“Enough to make it worth your while,” she answered, knowing she had him hooked with her lie.

“I don’t know about that — I don’t come cheap.”

She pulled out a silver coin and held it up at eye level. “Here take this and think it over,” she offered. “If you —“

He sneered. “Uh, you’re going to need a lot more to convince me —“

“Just shut up and listen. If you decide to take the job, bring this to the Romanian bar over on 84th tomorrow before noon. I’ll be waiting.”

Taking the coin, he held it flat on his level palm. He had heard about these old world coins, but had never seen one. Pocketing the currency, he pretended ambivalence to the offer.

“What makes you think I’ll show up?”

“Because you wouldn’t have taken it if you weren’t going to.”

He couldn’t argue with her logic.

“Haven’t you ever wanted to do something rewarding with your life?”

He revved the engine and she backed away. As he rode off, a knot formed in her stomach. She feared she just blew her only chance.

Traveling through Brooklyn was never simple on foot, let along going twenty kilometers an hour on a speeding bike. But, Max had an innate ability to negotiate the clutter of shanties, garbage, and hapless pedestrians which few others could boast. His unique talents, as Zoe and others called them, gave him an edge. He was fast, agile on his feet, and much stronger than he appeared. Until that morning, those were qualities he was always fearful of putting to the test.