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Skeemo, Sam, and Sapphire continue their adventures |
| [Introduction] FELCANROD Felcanrod is a team of three bounty hunters - a wolf, a cat, and a rat. It takes place on an alternate earth that is just like ours, same time, same places, but it has a humanimal population in it (and other beasts, creeps, critters, and weirdness as necessary). ... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ............ Samuel ...................... Sapphire ......................... Skeemo ... NAME: Samuel Blacktail SPECIESs: Grey Wolf BODY: Muscular, with a variety of scars covering his body, both from past fights and accidents. Missing an eye and an ear, on the left side, to say nothing about the scar running through that side of the face, practically bisecting his muzzle, along with a tear on the left side of his jaw, that makes it look like he's always snarling (Something like Jonah Hex), the pinky on the left hand is missing, and favors his left leg. Fur color is grey, except for his tail, which is black. OUTFIT: Prefers to wear something casual, in an attempt to blend in with the locals, but Samuel Blacktail always seems to stick out - mainly due to his charming good looks. PERSONALITY: Samuel always tries to be friendly towards those around him. However, those who insult women around him had best watch out; he once disfigured a man, by slicing off his ear, tearing out his eye, chopped off a finger, then tossing the guy into a pig pen, all because he called his own wife a whore. Then again, Samuel once had a wife, only to lose her in the incident that disfigured him. That being said, he tends to focus on the job. NAME: Sapphire Shores SPECIES: Siamese Cat BODY: Slender and graceful, Olympic Gymnast fit, has large blue eyes and long cream colored head fur. OUTFIT: Normally wears a Blue Jumpsuit, when Stealth is needed she gets into her jet black full body cat suit PERSONALITY: Calm, cool, collected, Cares deeply about other creatures and seeks to protect them from harm, mess with Cubs or other youngsters around her at your peril! NAME: Skeemo SPECIES: rat BODY: Kind of dumpy, not fat, just chunky. But he doesn't waddle, he walks smoothly and stealthily. HEAD: Large, sharp-pointed nose, beady eyes but hidden by black wraparound sunglasses, jet black hair slicked back with oil. OUTFIT: Usually seen in grey sweatpants and sweatshirt with expensive Italian shoes of black leather. Prefers zip-up-the-side, lightweight boots. PERSONALITY: Friendly, but knows how to fight clean or fight dirty. He's probably not as calm and cool as he tries to appear. THE ASSOCIATES ... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** .... Sally the Flea ..... Zzrt the Alien ..... Penelope the Mouse .... Episodes (clickable links) ------------------------------------------------ ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ... 1: Madam Slither ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ... 2: The Champ ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ... 3: Brazil ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ... 4: Back In The USA |
| It was a lazy day in July. Skeemo sat in the office of Felcanrod and Associates, Professional Investigators, and looked on ebay for a new pair of shoes. Sapphire was out somewhere, but Sam had just walked through the door. He sat down in the chair closest to Skeemo and said, "What's happening?" "Shoes," Skeemo said, and closed the ebay window. He always found Felcanrod business more interesting than anything else. "Business has been slow lately, hasn't it?" |
| "Slow is good," said Sam. "It means that no one needs a group of mercenary-type of bounty hunters to help them solve their problems." "To be honest, I'm just bored," Skeemo said. "I need something to do." "Well, if you really want something to do, Mr. Smitty has a business trip over in Europe, and he's looking for an extra bodyguard, or three," Sam said. "Or, if you don't feel up to that, O'Greadly has a stack of FTAs that could be captured." "How would things be if we worked with Mr. Smitty?" Skeemo asked. "Part of the time, stand next to him as he goes through boring meetings with other business leaders, other part of the time, whatever the hell we wanted to do, and it's all paid," said Sam. "And if we worked with O'Greadly?" "Catching drunks, pickpockets, nudists, people who showed more than they should, the occasional drug dealer, some street hookers, a few fighters, and maybe a rapist or a murderer." "What's the pay?" Skeemo asked. "Depends on if you want to stand around getting board, or if you want to run around and risk some idiot taking a shot at you." "Not what I was talking about." "Fifty thousand dollars, either way." |
| "Doesn't Mr. Smitty already have enough bodygaurds?" asks Saphire. "He seems to go through them faster than Mr. Tusk goes through his peaunuts." (Mr. Tusk is an elephant humanimal, whom is addicted to peanuts.) "I think it's suspicious." "It isn't so suspicious," Sam says. "After all, his secret motto is: [Never trust anyone]. He probably doesn't want anyone staying with him for too long, he thinks they'll figure out his secrets." |
| (Raven, Mr. Smitty is Sam's former father-in-law, the owner of a very large shipping company, worth 300 billion dollars, and Sam will get at least 50 billion of that (As Mr. Smitty has 4 actual sons, and one step-son). Basically, back when Sam was a kid, his family was dirt poor, until Mr. Smitty, who was looking for a bodyguard, hired Sam's father - a former soldier, and let them, along with the rest of his servants/bodyguards, live at his place, where they get the best of everything, including benefits, like school for the children, and even collage. As for Sam, he met up with Annabel, Mr. Smitty's daughter, whom he eventually married. Problem was, Sam, who became a cop, killed a man in the line of duty. This man had a brother, a corrupt ambassador, who would disfigure Sam, and kill Annabel. Sam killed him soon after this. Thing is, seems there is a third brother, who has sworn revenge on Sam.) "I'll visit the Pen and see if Mr. Stripes has heard anything," said Sam. "Isn't that tiger locked up?" Skeemo asked. "He's serving 15 to 20 for Interfering in Interstate Trading," said Sam. "Of course, that was the only charge that anyone could stick on him, especially given that he essentially turned State's Evidence in order to bring down Mr. Skies." "That man made the wrong move when he kidnapped Mr. Stripes' granddaughter," said Skeemo. "So, you plan on visiting him?" "Mr. Stripes might be behind bars, but his men are not," said Sam. "With any luck, he'll pass word on to them, telling them to assist us." "What about afterwards?" "I'll go to the Bread and Butter Saloon, ask around there, and then pay a visit to Susan," Sam said. "She has some new things she'd like to try out." Skeemo chuckled at this. "Enjoy yourself." (Another note to Raven - Mr. Stripes is a Tiger crime boss, known for many crimes, but nothing that really stuck, who had asked Felcanrod to help rescue his granddaughter after his only honest law-bidding son had been shot by one of his rivals, and the granddaughter kidnapped, in return for his surrender to the Authorities. As for Susan, she's a human woman who works as a Honey Bunny (basically, something like a prostitute, with better benefits, among other things, like being something like being a SMD (or whatever you call those who are paid to spank others)), whom Sam tends to visit whenever the urge for a good time comes upon him.) |
| "Wait a minute, don't you think it's strange?" Sapphire asked. "I mean, Madam Slither didn't even tell us what he looked like, and why did he want to know his fortune? If he does manage to blow up a bomb tonight, Madam Slither saw that he did in her crystal ball, or perhaps he was just setting the bomb up in what she saw, and he came wondering if it really would blow up?" "I'm leaving now" Sam said in a thoughtful voice. |
| Skeemo said, "I see what you mean, Sapphire. But we have to assume he will set it up a bomb and it will blow up, don't we?" "I guess so," she said. "Do you really think this Madame Slither person can foresee the future?" "I could tell you some stories about her that would make your hair curl, but I have to admit sometimes she is wrong. It's not a perfect gift by any means. I hope Sam has some luck. I suggest you and I search the social media for any clues about this guy." "Oh goody! The internet. What first? Google, Facebook?" "You check Facebook while I Google." |
| An hour later, plus one strip search and a change of clothes, Sam was wearing a green outfit, and walking over to Mr. Stripes, who was wearing an orange uniform, and sat down to play chess with the tiger. "So, to what do I owe to the pleasure of this visit?" Mr. Stripes asked, as he moved a piece. "Information," said Sam, as he made a move. "Have you heard anything about a bombing being attempted?" Mr. Stripes frowned. "I can't say that I have. Do you know the target?" Sam shook his head. "I wish I knew." Mr. Stripes nodded. "Understood. I'll tell my men to keep an eye out." "Good," said Sam. "So, how are your sons?" "The one is locked up in solitary, which is what can be expected for a cop who is a pedophilia," Mr. Stripes growled at this. "The other thinks that he can use my name to protect him, but I've let it be known otherwise. He shouldn't have shot at you, and the first one shouldn't have messed with that rabbit, nor his wife, nor made those comments about his daughter." "What about the other one?" Sam asked. Mr. Stripes gave a rare smile. "He'll be released from the hospital in about a week, and will start physical therapy soon after. From what I've heard from my man on his nursing staff, he's happy that his daughter is safe and sound, and that he'd wish to visit you for rescuing her, and he'd like to know why you risked your life to protect her." "He doesn't know that you arranged her rescue?" Sam asked. "He suspects it, especially since Maria has told him about me," said Mr. Stripes. "As it is, I've been thinking about calling him, and try to patch things up." Sam grinned. "Good to know." "Your move." A few hours, and seven games, plus a clothes change, later, Sam was at the Bread and Butter Saloon. Problem was, he'd struck out there as well - no one had heard anything about a bombing being planned. "A rough day?" Susan asked, as the wolf laid on her bed, on his front. "The start of one," Sam said. Susan placed her hands on his shoulders, and started to rub them. "What's the problem?" "Potential bombing attempt," said Sam. "Don't know the who, where, or when, nor the how, or the why." "Might just be a false alarm," said Susan. "How did you find out about it?" "Madame Slither and her Crystal ball," said Sam. "Claims she did a reading for someone who was planning one. Have you heard anything?" "Men love to talk around me as I work on them," said Susan. "That being said, I haven't heard anything." "I guess, in a way, that is good news," said Sam. Susan chuckled. "As the saying goes, 'No news is good news.'" |
| "Look at this!" Sapphire said. "It's a Facebook page for a radical who seems to live right here in Vegas. There are photos of casinos. He claims Vegas is Babylon, a metropolis of sin. "It's all one giant whorehouse!" he says. "Let me see that!" Skeemo studied the monitor. "Abdul Faroud Rabella. What a name! Let's Google it. Nothing. Damn! I have an idea! Casino employement records. We'll check them for the name Rabella." Ten minutes later they had a hit. Skeemo whistled. "Allen Frank Rabella. That's too close for coincidence. He works at Caesar's Palace. Come on. We've got to go there right away." On the way to the car Skeemo thumbed his cell and sent a text to Sam: Caesar's Palace - now! Target: Allen Frank Rabella - employee |
| It was, more or less, fortunate that Skeemo had sent is text when he did. "Looks like we don't need to use a condom after all," Sam said, as he looked at his phone. "Still, he needs to work on his timing - five minutes later and you and me would be stuck together for an hour. If he had called five minutes ago though, I wouldn't be ready to need a condom." "I know," Susan said, as she looked at Sam, who had all but been ready to get intimate with her. "Still, how am I going to walk around with this making a large tepee in my pants?" Susan chuckled as she rubbed her hands together. "Dealing with ready males is something I know how to do." She then kissed the wolf, and slowly lowered her hand to take care of what needed being taken care up. A while later, Sam was wearing his clothes and walking towards the casino. He looked down, and saw that nothing was trying to escape. That Susan sure did know her stuff. "Now, to prevent one bombing." |
| "Sam!" Sapphire called out when she spotted him. "Skeemo's already inside looking for Rabella." Just then Skeemo burst out of the casino's side entrance on the run. "Sam! We found a likely suspect but he called in sick today. I've got his home address." "Let's go then," Sam said. "Do you think he's the bomber?" "I don't know! But he's the only possible we could find. What else can we do but check him out?" "Right. Tell me more about him while we ride." After a short trip they parked in front of the apartment building that Rabella listed as his address. Sapphire said, "Remember, guys, this might not be the bomber. Please don't shoot an innocent citizen." "We'll be careful," Skeemo replied, checking his gun to make sure it was ready to use. |
| "How about we keep our guns holstered until we are sure about things," said Sam. "Rabella might be a fairly common name, like Smith, and Jones." |
| They knocked on the door of Rabella's apartment but got no answer. "Either he's out or he's in there and won't answer the door, " Skeemo whispered. "That's bad if he's out," Sapphire said. "Let's knock on the neighbors' doors and see what they know." |
| "Just one thing first," said Sam. The wolf stuck his head against the door, trying to listen for any sound inside. |
| Sam frowned. "Not a thing. Would have heard him snoring if he was asleep, and I would have smelled food from the stove if he was cooking something." |
| "OK," Skeemo said. "Sam, why don't you take the doors to the right and Sapphire and me will take the ones to the left." Skeemo knocked on the first door to the left of Rabella's apartment and a woman answerd. She was dressed very skimpily in some semitransparent stuff so Skeemo was speechless for a moment. "Yes?" she said. She had green eyes that seemed to be whispering naughty things to Skeemo. He gulped. "Uh... your next door neighbor, Mr. Rabella, have you seen him lately?" "Rabella? Is that who lives there? I wouldn't know him if I saw him. I don't live here. I'm just visiting." A male voice came from inside the room. "Who is it at the door?" "Some cop, I think," the woman said. "If he don't have a search warrant tell him to get lost." The woman smiled at Skeemo. "You heard the man," and closed the door. Sapphire looked with disapproval at Skeemo. "You handled that well." Skeemo shrugged. "She surprised me." |
| As for Sam's door, a naked old human man opened it. "What do you want sonny?" he asked. "You a member of that stupid Decent Society group? Well here's what I have to tell you; I was born naked, and I'm going to die naked!" "That's not what I'm here for," Sam said, as he tried not to look lower than the man's face. "I'm trying to locate your neighbor - seems that there are some questions about an incident he was involved in." "Him! Ha! Real creep!" said the old man. "Every time a service-person, or a first-responder dies, he claims it's part of God's plan to punish the wicked, and he protests their funerals, like those Westbro Baptists do, and that's in spite of the law that protesters can't come within a hundred yards of the location from an hour before the service, to an hour after the service. Personally, I hope he doesn't show up to my service - I've arranged for an Honor Guard composing of this Biker Group I ride with, the police, who I served with, the fire department, as I once served with them as well, to say nothing about the military, as the place I run provides them and their families with good food for a good price, the homeless, as I'm always donating to them, and nudists, as I'm a member of that lifestyle." Sam nodded. "Do you know where he is?" "Try along the Strip - there's a few people he likes to spend time with, or so my friends say." "Thank you very much." Sam then closed the door. Damn! His things reminded me of a prune with a raisin on either side of it! He then looked at the others. "Guys! Got a location to check out." |
"Great!" Skeemo said, but when Sam told him the Strip his face fell. "That's not a location, that's a street! He could be anywhere!" "Did you come up with anything better?" Sam asked. "No." "Then let's get moving. Times running out." "Alright. I guess we have no other option. Sapphire! Knock on a few more doors and then take a cab to the strip, OK?" "Which Casino?" she asked. "Just use your cell phone and call us. We'll meet up." |
| "Got any ideas?" Skeemo asked, as he drove. "I have one." Sam pulled out a sheet of paper and his phone. He then dialed a number. "This is Samuel Blacktail, an acquaintance of Mr. Stripes. Good. I'm glad you've heard of me. I need some help in locating someone. I'll send you a picture and a name. Instructions are to observe and report, however, should life and limb be at risk, do whatever it takes to protect yourself, and others." "Who did you call?" Skeemo asked. "Mr. Stripes' right hand man," Sam said. "That tiger owns a number of casinos along the strip, and wouldn't be very happy if something bad happened to them." |
. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** . "Let's start at the Bellagio," Skeemo said, "since it seems to be at the center of everything. Did you see that movie OCEANS ELEVEN?" "Yeah," Sam said. "I saw all of the Oceans movies." "Which Casinos does Mr Stripes own?" "I can't say I know," Sam said. "I never went in for gambling much. How about you?" "Not me," Skeemo said. "I tuck my money away in my mattress." |
| "Say, don't you need a special license to own a casino?" Sceemo asked. "Something about how felons, like Mr. Stripes, can't own them." "That's why someone else is listed as owner on paper, and he's listed as Restaurant Manager," said Sam. "If you want to get around the law, you need to know the law." "I'm just surprised that his men would be willing to help us," said Sceemo. "Dead men don't spend money," said Sam. |
| Just then Skeemo's phone buzzed. it was Sapphire. "What's that?" Skeemo said. "Great! Good work! We'll meet you there." He put away the phone and grinned at Sam. "Caesar's Palace. One of the neighbors is a friend of Rabella's and he says that's where he always goes." "Let's be careful," Sam said. "Remember, we don't even know if Mr. Rabella is the bomber. We don't even know if there really is a bomber!" "Yeah, I'm aware of all that, but it's still exciting, right? I love the thrill of the chase." |
| "I just hope it isn't all a wild goose chase," said Sam. "After all, I had to cut off a good session because of this." "You're upset about that?" Skeemo asked. "If you had called me a little while earlier, I would of been fine," Sam said. "If you had called me later, I would have been stuck to Susan, and thus unable to be here." "You mean that you and she were all set to, you know?" "Yeah, and once a male canine's thing goes past a certain point, a knot forms, and until certain things are done, there's no getting lose," Sam said. "I'm surprised you didn't learn that in health class." "I've heard about that," said Skeemo. "Say, is it true about felines having barbs down there?" "Can't rightly say firsthand, but I've been told by a reliable source that they do," said Sam. |
| "I guess we can't all be lucky enough to be rats," Skeemo said. "In and out. Three seconds tops. Leaves you plenty of time for other things." "I'd rather spend the time on sex than other things," Sam said. Skeemo chuckled. "Rats and wolves think differently, I guess. Here we are. Caesar's palace. It's huge! You got a good mental image of what this guy looks like?" "Memorized the photo," Sam said. "Why don't we start at opposite corners of the casino and work toward the middle?" "Sounds like a plan." Skeemo was the first to spot Rabella. His initial plan had been to approach Rabella and question him, but he saw that Rabella was wearing a backpack. That was highly suspicious. He phoned Sam. "I've spotted him and he's wearing a backpack." Uh oh! Wish there was some way to evacuate the casino without alerting him that we're on to him. "Can you start a small fire and trigger the fire alarm?" Better than that, I've got some smoke bombs with me. Where are you? "Near roulette table number 13." I'm on the way. Fire alarm should go off soon. |
| Sam then looked, and saw a security guard. "Well, this is better." He then walked up to the guard, carefully pulling out his I.D. "Samuel Blacktail, Felcanrod." "I've heard of you," the guard said. "Are you after someone in this casino?" "Yeah, and I need you to pull the fire alarm." "What for?" "The man is believed to be carrying a bomb, and is believed to be planning to use it," Sam said. "Thus I'm sure that you'll agree that it is better to be safe than sorry, and merely pay a fine for a false alarm, as opposed to the alternative of being stuck with the bill for a bunch of funerals." The guard nodded. "You wouldn't be asking me to do this unless you were certain of this?" "I'm ninety percent certain," said Sam. "I'll make good on the fine if it proves to be wrong." The guard pulled the alarm. "You'd better be right." |
| Skeemo watched Rabella carefully as the fire alarm went off. Rabella seemed surprised, and then joined the other customers making their way to the exits. Sam joined Skeemo. "Is that him?" "Yeah, shall we confront him?" Skeemo said. "I don't want to get blown up," Sam said. "Good point, but we've got to control him somehow. He could set it off in the crowd outside." "Can't the doors be locked remotely?" "I think so." Skeemo was already grabbing a nearby security guard and explaining what they needed. He returned to Sam's side. "OK, they're going to lock the doors so he can't get out. It might mean a few others get locked in here with him." "Nothing is a perfect solution," Sam said. "Look, let's just draw weapons on him from a distance and see what he does. Either he sets off the bomb or puts up his hands." "OK, we can crouch behind a roulette table. They look solid as a brick wall." "Rabella!" Sam called out. "Put up your hands! We have weapons pointed at you!" Rabella made a quick run at the doors only to discover they were locked. The few others still in the casino started screaming and running as far as they could get from Rabella. Skeemo squinted his eyes expecting an explosion at any moment, but Rabella put up his hands. |
| "Alright so far," said Sam. "Stay here while I check him out." "What if he does have a bomb?" Skeemo asked. "I've worked with more than a few demolitions experts," said Sam. "I know how to disarm your basic bomb. That being said, call Bomb Squad, just in case." |
| Sam walked over to where Rabella stood with his hands in the air. "What's in the backpack, sir?" "Donuts," Rabella replied. "Donuts?" "Yes, I like donuts and I stopped by the Krispy Kreme to buy a dozen. I do it every week." |
| Sam sniffed the air. There was indeed donuts in the pack, along with something else. "Mind if I check the bag? If it's just donuts, there will be no issues. If it's something else though, there will be." |
| "Aha! What's this?" Sam said, dragging a modified clock out of the backpack. It had two wires trailing from it. "Nothing," Rabella said. "Just a clock." Sam looked through the pack but there were no explosives, just the donuts and the odd clock. The clock could be part of a timer for a bomb. "Homeland Security just arrived," Skeemo said. "Good. I think they will be interested in Mr. Rabella here. There is no bomb in his bag, but there is definitely what could be the components of a bomb." "Donuts?" Skeemo asked with a puzzled frown. "No, the clock, you moron!" Skeemo chuckled. "Either way it's out of our hands now." Three burly gentlemen in dark suits approached showing badges. "He's all yours," Skeemo said. A week later Madame Slither visited the Felcanrod office. "I meant to stop by sooner, but I could not find a ride. So you stopped the bomber, eh? I think you must have for I did not hear any big boom." "Yes," Skeemo said. "Thanks for the tip, Madame Slither. Homeland Security was very happy to get their hands on that guy. When they searched his apartment they found all kinds of plans for some terrorist acts. He will be in jail for a long time." "Good! And now I have another dream to tell you about." "Uh oh," Skeemo said and put his hand to his forehead. "There will be peace in Las Vegas for a while!" Skeemo smiled. "Good news! I like that dream." * * * |
| "You heard me," Rufio said. And landed a vicious body slam on Sam's chest that knocked the wind out of him. He staggered back, glad they were wearing gloves and head protectors. Some intuition made Sam duck and he felt the breeze from a swinging fist go by. He responded with his own fists and was satisfied to feel them make contact. He was getting a better sense of where Rufio was because of Rufio's heavy breathing and the heat and body odor coming off of him. Still, for Sam to fight him blindfolded may have been a really stupid decision. |
| "The Champ's going to make you and your whole family His little bitches," Rufio whispered. "How do you like that?" Sam grinned. "Good luck trying." He swung, and felt his fist connect with Rufio's chin. He then heard a distinct thud. "Oh come on, I didn't hit you that hard. I get slapped on the back of the head harder than that. Are you for real, or are you all mouth?" "Why, The Champ ought to bust you right -" "Hold it!" said someone else. "Stop right there. Rufio! You've got a fight next week. I'm not going to take the chance on you missing it." "Saved by the manager, bitch," Rufio whispered. "Next time, the Champ will kill you." "Good luck," Sam said. "You'll need it, especially when you meet up with a true fighter." He then used his teeth to undo the Velcro for the glove on one of his hands, and set about removing the rest of the gear, and the blindfold, leaving it in the ring. He then looked at his handiwork; Rufio had a black eye and a split lip, and was going to have a nice bruise on his chest in the morning. He then looked at Rufio's Manager. It was a male human, in a black suit. "Tony Alphonso," the man said, as Sam exited the ring. "You've got some good movies. A little rusty, but you're still good." "I learned a few things from my father," Sam said. "He was the Boxing Champion of his division when he was in the Army." "Tell me, what made you think that you could take Rufio on while blindfolded?" Tony asked. "Most don't take him on, especially after they learn about his reputation in the ring." Sam looked back at Rufio. "The Chump's all show and mouth, with nothing real to back it up with. My sister could take him on, and win." Rufio growled at this. "The Champ challenges you to a real match! No holds barred!" "Beating a man with some obvious physical handicaps would be embarrassing for you," said Sam. "And loosing to one would be even worse. Be satisfied with the draw, I am." Sam then changed back into his clothes, and looked in a mirror. He had sustained some damage himself - split lip on the good side of his face, and his chest hurt from the blow that Rufio had given him. "Could of done a little better." "Do you need to see a doctor?" Tony asked. Sam pointed at the bad side of his face. "I don't think I do, especially for a little cut." "Still, you might want to get that checked out." "Maybe I'll stop by the hospital," Sam said. "Seems a friend of mine was checked in after she was attacked last night. Makes you wonder what the neighborhood is coming to when a woman can't walk home from work." "I know what you mean," said Tony. "A real shame." "It seems that other women have been attacked as well, or so my one friend tells me," said Sam. "Of course, it's nothing that a real man needs to worry about." Sam then left the gym, and went to Felcanrod. "What the hell happened to you this morning?" Skeemo asked. "We have something of a rescue mission," Sam said. |
| Skeemo listened quietly while Sam told him about Susan's friend and how she had been abused by Victor Rufio and how Sam had fought him. "But what in the world made you fight him blindfolded?" Skeemo asked. "I wanted to knock him down a few pegs so the women he's abused won't be so afraid to testify against him." "But there must be easier ways." "Oh, we'll get to those, too," Sam said. "In fact, there is something I want you to do." "Name it," Skeemo said. |
| "I need you to locate these women, and get their stories," said Sam. "You need to tell them that we are investigating their cases, and could use their help." "What do you mean?" Skeemo asked. "When one street girl claims that she was raped by a champion boxer, she gets ignored, by the police the people, and the media," said Sam. "If a dozen, or more, come forward though, they'll have a harder time ignoring them." "You want me to locate these women?" Skeemo asked. "And then convince them to testify?" "That's right," said Sam. "Meanwhile, I'll unsettle him." "What do you mean?" Skeemo asked. "I'll be at the gym on Tanner Street, and outdo him on the exercise equipment and such," said Sam. "Meaning?" "If this guy benches 130 lb, I'll bench 135 lb," said Sam. "If he can run five miles, I'll go five and a half. Basically, I'm going to see about getting him to focus on me." |
| Skeemo looked at the list of names Sam had given him. Only a few of them had addresses to go with the names. He decided to do those first. Linda Mallory lived in a medium quality apartment complex, the kind that is not an out-and-out slum, but you feel sure they don't advertise "deluxe features" in their ads, or if they do, it's probably a lie. However, Linda's apartment was clean inside, even if it wasn't fancy. "And you want me to testify against him?" she said. "Do you have any idea what he would do to me if I testified? You might as well condemn me to death." Skeemo put on his reassuring face. "It's not like you would be the only one. We are trying to get two dozen women to come forward. You would not be singled out. Also, we are working on neutralizing Rufio so he cannot hurt anybody." Linda was skeptical. "Neutralizing? What's that supposed to mean? Locking him up? Cutting off his balls?" "Not the second one," Skeemo said, "but it's possible we might be able to get him locked up prior to the trial if enough evidence can be gathered to show that he's a serious threat to the community." "Oh, he's a serious threat, alright. I can vouch for that!" Skeemo brightened. "So you'll be willing to testify?" "I didn't say that, but let me think about it. I would like to see that son of a bitch get what he deserves. Do you have a card or something?" |
| Meanwhile, Sam was at a cafe, sipping on some coffee, when a German Shepherd sat next to him. "You wanted to see me?" he asked. "Alexander Chovski, do you know of anyone in the habit of taking things that don't belong to them?" "Sam, I've told you, I'm not in that game any more," the German Shepherd said. "What's this about?" "Victor Rufio." "That's like playing with fire right there," said Alexander. "He's not a nice guy. There's a lot of Working Girls who bare scars from him. As for those who think of testifying against him, the cases tend to be dropped, either because the witness disappeared, recanted their story, or because of the lawyer his manager hires can rattle those who still try to testify, questioning their backgrounds, and all that." "Do you know of anyone who engages in B and E around here?" Sam asked. "What for?" "I want someone to play a nice joke on him - take his stuff, and put it on the street for him to find," Sam said. "I want him to be more worried about what could of been stolen, as opposed to the new things he has - bugs." "Listening devices and cameras I take," said Alexander. "Nice. What about you?" "The best alibi is to be right next to the guy," Sam said. "I plan to be at the Gym tomorrow, exercising right near him." "That is a good alibi." |
| Skeemo's next stop was a seedy, downtown hotel and a woman named Greta Snatch. Could that possibly be her real name? Greta was older than Skeemo expected. She had frizzly grey hair and a dumpy figure. It was hard to picture her making a living as a prostitute, but maybe she appealed to a certain type of man. "Victor Rufio?" she said. "Sure, I remember him. Nice guy." "Skeemo frowned. "You're being sarcastic, right?" "No, he was a sweetheart. I made him some lasagna and he loved it." "You made lasagna for him? Maybe I am misunderstanding something here about the relationship. Did he not hurt you? Was there no physical abuse?" She laughed. "You mean did he slap me around a little? Yeah, he did that, but I don't have any scars if that's what you're driving at." "Are you willing to testify in court that he hit you?" She laughed again, a hard cynical laugh. "I thought you might be a cop, asking so many questions." "I'm not a cop," Skeemo said. "We're just trying to bring Victor Rufio to justice for beating up women. Are you willing to help?" "It depends on how much is in it for me," Greta said. "You mean money? We aren't paying women to lie. We just want them to tell the truth." "Well the truth doesn't come cheap from me, honey. If you want it you have to pay for it." Skeemo could see there was no use talking any further with her so he gave her his card. "Call me if you change your mind and want to testify. It will help a lot of women." "What do I care about other women?" she said as she closed the door. |
| "You might if one of them had been your daughter," Skeemo muttered. He then looked at the list. "Maybe I should pick someone else." He tapped on a name. "This girl comes from a good neighborhood - maybe she'll be willing to help out." Meanwhile, Sam had arrived back at the hospital, where he saw Susan, still sitting in the Waiting Room. "Have you been in to see her?" Susan shook her head. "Not yet. The police are questioning her." "How long?" Sam asked. "The last thirty minutes or so," Susan said. "They already talked to me to find out what I know." "Did she tell you everything?" Sam asked. Susan nodded. "She works over there on Tanner Street, in the back seat of her car for the most part you understand. Victor Rufio has the women he picks up get into his car, and he drives them to his place. There, he drinks, smokes some dope, pops some pills, and then he's straight on Mr. Nasty, slapping you around, beating you, or, when he's really in the mood, cutting you." "Sounds less like she told you, and more like you've experienced this first hand," Sam said. Susan lowered her eyes. "It was before I began to work for Jerry as a Honey Bunny - I used to work the streets. I met up with Rufio, and I thought that it was my chance. After he was done with me, I was in the hospital for several months." "Does Jerry know?" Sam asked. "I've only asked him not to allow Rufio in - I told him that I'd heard some bad stories about him, and that it would be best not to allow him in, just in case," said Susan. "Still, every so often, he enters my dreams, and I can't sleep because of it." "So, you told no one?" Sam asked. "Who would have believed me?" Susan asked. "I didn't know anyone on the Police force who would take my word for it." Sam placed his hand on Susan's. "I believe you. I promise you this, Rufio, and his friends, will never hurt you again." "Do you mean it?" Susan asked. "You have my word." Susan then gave the wolf a kiss. "Thank you." Sam chuckled. "Don't thank me yet." Then, Susan stiffened. "Oh no, it's his lawyer." Sam turned his head. He saw a male lion in a suit "He's the reason Rufio never get's convicted - either he threatens the witnesses, or bribes them, although I wouldn't put killing past him." Sam frowned. "In that case, I'll see about intercepting him before he gets to your friend, and makes her change her mind." "How?" Susan asked. Sam picked up a cup of hot coffee. "Let's just say that me and him are going to have a little accident involving hot liquid." |
| Skeemo had good luck interviewing Jennifer Conklin. She was basically a nice girl but had run short of funds in college. She was so intent on getting a degree that she decided to try a little prostitution to get money so she could stay in college. She reasoned that as long as no one ever found out about it, what could it hurt? However, after turning a few tricks, she quickly became disillusioned with the idea that prostitution would be an easy way to make money. The final straw was Victor Rufio. He gave her a good beating that left her making explanations to the college clinic about how she fell down the stairs. After that, she knew all her ideas about prostitution being a good part time job were totally wrong and she swore she would never do it again. "But why didn't you report Victor Rufio to the police?" Skeemo asked. "Because I didn't want to do anything to jeopardize getting my degree. I thought I would be kicked out of school if they learned I was a prostitute." "But you're out of school now," Skeemo said. "You graduated last year. Congratulations, by the way. So why not testify against him now?" "You mean it's not too late to do that?" "Not at all," Skeemo said, and he was able to add another woman to his list of testifiers. |
| Meanwhile at the hospital, Sam transferred his cup of coffee to his maimed hand on his blind side, and carefully charted his course as he walked into the lion lawyer, getting hot coffee all over both of them. "Christsakes!" the lion shouted, as he looked at his suit. "What are you blind? Why I ought to sue-" The lion stopped, and looked at Sam. "Jeez! You are blind, in one eye at least. I mean, you only have one eye, right?" "That's right," Sam said, checking himself "Just be glad this stuff isn't Boiling Hot. This is more like Hot Water from the Spigot hot. Tell you what, I'll pay for your dry cleaning bill." "I'm fine, it's just that I was trying to handle a suit my client has against someone," the lawyer said. "Claims that someone, who was checked into this facility, broke into his house." "That's interesting," said Sam. "A friend of a friend of mine was taken to this one guy's home, beaten and raped, and is only still alive because their friend managed to get them sent here." "Well, I best get to business," the lawyer said. "My client expects results." "I wouldn't do that," the wolf said. "I know who your client is, and I know who you are after." The lawyer turned, and looked at him. "And just who are you to care about some Working Girl?" "Just a friend of a woman who was once hurt by your client, and whose friend has been hurt by that same client," Sam said. "You look familiar," the lawyer said. "I've seen you some place." "I wouldn't doubt it," Sam said. "I'm very hard to forget. Now, leave, before I escort you out." "I'll place you in a moment," the lawyer said. Then, the lawyer's eyes widened in recognition. "You're the Bounty Hunter that got Mr. Skies locked up! He's a good client of mine - claims that he was framed by a tiger mob boss and his one-eyed wolf lackey, and now you're after another innocent man!" "So, that makes you Thomas Mane," Sam grinned. "I heard that you were lower than dirt, but going after a defenseless woman is lower than dirt anyways. I'll see to it that she testifies against your client, and I hope he gets what he deserves, life in prison." Thomas growled, and started to walk away, when he noticed Susan. "Hello there. Still selling your body for money, slut?" Sam growled, walked up to the lawyer, and shoved him. "Get out, before you need a room here." "Are you threatening me?" Thomas asked. "Nope, just protecting a woman who needed defending," said Sam. "I'll see you in court," Thomas said. "Not if I see you there first," said Sam. Thomas growled, and walked away. "He's going to be trouble," said Sam. "He's going to try and sue you," said Susan. "He's very good at that." "He'd better be a better lawyer than the one my former father-in-law can hire," Sam said, as he got out his phone, and dialed a certain number. "Hello Mr. Smitty. Yes, it's good to hear from you as well. Listen, could you get a hold of that lawyer you used to defend me fifteen years ago. Yes, that one. Tell him that his services might be needed again. No, not yet, but keep him on retainer, or something. I ran into a guy that likes to use lawyers to attack people, and I need someone to defend these people from them. Who are we talking about? The UnderUnderprivilaged. That's right. Thank you." "Who did you call?" Susan asked. "My former father-in-law," said Sam. "He only hires the best." |
| When Skeemo ran out of names he called Sapphire back at the office to see if she had found any. "Sure," she said. "I'll send them to you right now." Skeemo watched them pop up in his email. "Thanks, Saph!" "I'm working on more. Should have them soon." Skeemo found the name on the list with the closest address. It was a home in a middle class neighborhood. Doesn't look like a whorehouse, he thought. But when the door opened and he got a glimpse inside, he changed his mind. The walls were painted deep purple and there were fake tiger skin rugs on the floor. Two leather sofas stretched along the walls. A heavy odor of incense was in the air while an expensive music system was putting out a seductive beat. The woman who answered the door was pretty seductive herself. She had dark hair, lots of it, and brown eyes with gold eye shadow. She was wearing gold capri pants, very tight on her, and a loose yellow blouse that revealed quite a bit of tan skin. Skeemo tried not to stare in that direction. "Are you the three o'clock?" she asked. "No," Skeemo said. "I'm the alarm clock." "What?" "Sorry, just trying to make a joke. Shall I get right to the point?" "Please do," she said, some irritation showing on her face. "I'm part of a team that is gathering testimony against Victor Rufio. We intend to prosecute him for abusing women. Our records show you were a victim of his violence, so we are begging you to join with the dozens of women who have agreed to testify against him." She looked at him for a long moment and then frowned. "I would like to help you, honey, but I can't. I guess you can see what business I'm in and I just can't afford to anger any of the big boys. It wouldn't be good for my health." "We intend to put Rufio on ice even before the trial." "I don't mean just him," she said. "These guys work together and the risk is too much for me. I've already told you more than I should have, so if you will excuse me...?" Skeemo gave her his card, but he had the feeling she would tear it up after he left. |
| Skeemo sighed, and called Sam. "It seems that Victor Rufio has some friends, and these friends are going to make things difficult to get these girls to testify." "I just ran into his lawyer," Sam said. "Piece of work; he was going to get Susan's friend to not testify until I bumped into him. He acted polite until he realized who I was, and he was stupid enough to call Susan a slut." "What are we going to do about him?" Skeemo asked. "I called up Mr. Smitty, and asked him to get a hold of a lawyer that we know quite well," said Sam. "This lawyer being the reason I'm free and clear to to do this job, and also made it so that I don't have any issues when it comes to carrying weapons." "Still, what about Rufio's friends?" Skeemo asked. "I find it hard to believe he has any," said Sam. "As for his fighting abilities, he's got a mouth, and can put on a show, but other than that, either he gets losers, or the opposition has been bribed, or threatened, into loosing. Hell, Sapphire's a better fighter than him. You on the other hand, you might have issues." "Ha ha," said Skeemo. "That's so funny I forgot to laugh. Seriously though, what about his friends?" "I have an idea as to who would know them," said Sam. "Mr. Stripes?" "Yeah, maybe I can beat him in a chess game as well," said Sam. "He's up on me by three games." "Good luck." An hour, and one outfit change, later, Sam was playing chess with Mr. Stripes. "So, what brings you here?" the tiger asked. "Is this a social visit, or do you want information?" "Victor Rufio, what do you know about him?" Sam asked. "Fifth - Rate fighter, but well connected," said Mr. Stripes. "Problem is, he's a loose cannon, especially with his habit of brutalizing, and causing the deaths of various women. Thus, I never invested in him." "A real Family Values Villain, right?" Sam asked. Mr. Stripes chuckled at this. "That's one way of putting it." "So, what do you know about his friends?" "I know everything to know about them, and I'll tell you, in exchange for one thing." "What would that be?" "I want you to break his fingers, and smash his hands with a sledgehammer," said Mr. Stripes. "He had the gull to rape my sister's daughter a few days ago - she's sixteen years old, that's statutory rape right there." "I'm surprised you didn't tell me to kill him," said Sam. Mr. Stripes chuckled. "I know you too well to ask you to do that. The people here will do that without me having to ask them to do so." "Well, I can't guarantee using a sledgehammer on his hands, but, by the time I'm through with him, he'll be wishing that I had," said Sam. "That will be fine," said Mr. Stripes. "Here's the information on his friends....." |
| Skeemo took the call from Sam. "He did? That's great! So now you have some names to work with. Keep me informed. I've added a few women to my list. At this rate I think we'll have enough women for some impressive testimony. Too bad about the ones who refuse to testify, but what can you do?" Skeemo spent the rest of the afternoon questioning several more women then returned to the office. Sapphire had already gone home and there were no messages from Sam, so Skeemo decided to treat himself to some seafood and headed out for dinner at the Red Lobster. |
| Meanwhile, Sam was at the Theater, sitting in a booth with one of Rufio's friends. "What do you want?" the man, a black leopard, and the owner of the theater, asked. "I'm enjoying this Masterpiece by the great Shakespeare." Sam glanced at the play, it was Romeo and Juliet. "Yeah, it's a good one. That being said, I got a better one; A fallen woman is assaulted by a man with powerful connections, and a mercenary with a tragic past offers to assist her, and help her to get justice." "Hmm, sounds like an interesting idea, but it needs to be spiced up," said the theater owner. "I mean, what era would you set it in? Renaissance? Industrial? Science Fiction on some alien planet?" "How about here, in the present?" Sam suggested. "Oh, and as it turns out, you're one of the guys the mercenary is after?" "I don't see how that would be possible," said the theater owner. "I do, because I'm the mercenary in question." Sam pulled out a handgun, and pointed it at the theater owner. "What are you going to do?" the black leopard asked, his eyes bulging out in fear. "What did I ever do to any fallen woman?" "You like to silence those who try to testify against Victor Rufio," Sam said. "Now I'm here to deal with you." "What are you going to do? Kill me?" "I'm just here to give you a warning; interfere in the investigation against Victor Rufio, and I'll come back here, and burn the place to ashes." |
| Skeemo laughed as he listened to Sam tell how the black leopard's eyes bulged with fear. "What do you think, Sam? Will he heed the warning?" "I'm pretty sure he will," Sam said. "I noticed a wet spot in his pants. If you're scared enough to pee your pants, you'll probably avoid the thing that makes you scared." "Let's hope so. I would hate for anything to happen to any of these women just because they have agreed to testify." Skeemo hung up the phone and went back to sleep, muttering, "That damn wolf has no idea what the sleeping hours of normal people are." The next morning Skeemo was in the office early, checking over the list of names Sapphire had prepared for him. He was just about to go get a coffee when Sam came in. "What's on your to-do list today?" Skeemo asked him. |
| "Ideally, paying a visit to Susan, that is if she isn't visiting her friend at the hospital," Sam said, as he got out some bacon and sausage from the fridge. "Seems that she's got prior experience with Victor Rufio." "Is she going to testify against him?" Skeemo asked. "There might be a problem there - there's a chance that the Statute of Limitations might have ran out on her incident," Sam said. "But, given that there's a fresh case against him, she might be able to testify. Besides that, it seems that Rufio raped a sixteen year old girl." "That's not good for him," said Skeemo. "Hard to claim that she was a consenting adult at that age, especially the way that the law is, though some people argue that the law in that situation is obsolete." "Obsolete or not, it's on the books; age of consent is eighteen," Sam said. "Right," said Skeemo. "You know, I'm surprised that you haven't asked Susan for her hand in marriage." "I thought about it, and then I did some more thinking," Sam said. "It wouldn't work out." "Why's that?" "She'd have to quit her job," Sam said. "Wolves very rarely share their mates, and I don't know how comfortable I'd be sharing her with half a dozen men on any given day. That being said, she isn't the type to quit her job." "But, you already share her with half a dozen men," said Skeemo. "What's the difference?" "Well, at the moment, she's not married, and I don't have to worry about whether or not she's faithful, but, if we were married, then I'd want to make sure that she was faithful," said Sam. "I mean, I know she uses protection, all the girls there do, but suppose there was a hole in the condom, and suppose she got pregnant, not just with my offspring, but also with someone else's?" "Sounds like you worry too much," said Skeemo. Sam chuckled. "Perhaps I do. Still, we couldn't live at my place - it's bachelor's quarters, and as for her place, she entertains clients who prefer to do the deed in a regular bedroom there - I don't want to come home to find her busy with some client, and I especially don't want to know who they are." "I'm surprised that you don't know who they are now; wouldn't their scent be left on her?" "She and the others take showers, or baths, using scented soaps, between clients," said Sam. "I mean, I may see her go up to a room with someone, but I don't smell them on her when I'm with her." "So, just what are you going to do?" "Well, after talking to Susan, go to the gym on Tanner street and do some exercising, that way I have an alibi for when Rufio's place gets trashed." "You're not sending me there, are you?" "No, but I know a guy who knows a few guys, who will see to it, that, in addition to trashing the place, that listening bugs are put in place." |
| That afternoon, Sam and Skeemo met again at the office. "I got some more names," Skeemo said. "And one of them says she knows of three other women who aren't on my list and she believes they might testify." Sam shook his head sadly. "How many women did that bastard assault?" "It must be at least 30 or 40," Skeemo said, "assuming I don't know about some of them and don't have them on my lists. So how did your day go? Did they trash Rufio's place and plant the bugs?" |
| "Here's the footage from one of my friend's associates." Sam popped a disk into the video player. Soon, footage of an apartment is seen, from across a street, and in the street is a bunch of furniture, clothes, and trophies. A few minutes later, Rufio shows up. "What the hell! Who did this?" Rufio got out a phone, called a number, and soon the police showed up, along with a few other people. Reports were taken, and the stuff was taken back into the apartment. Sam took the disk out. "So, does he suspect you?" Skeemo asked. "Probably thinks I had a hand in it, but I was at the gym with him all day," said Sam. "I'm surprised that a restraining order hasn't been filed against you," said Skeemo. "Kind of waiting on that one," said Sam. "So, are you going to visit Susan now?" "Not when I'm on a case," said Sam. "I meant to talk about the case." "I got nothing new for her." |
| A couple of days later Skeemo tossed a bulky folder on Sam's desk. "That's it. We're not going to get any more women than that to testify, I don't think. What's the situation with the lawyers?" Sam leaned back from his desk making his swivel chair squeak in protest. "Perry says we should have no trouble in court." "Perry?" "Yes," Sam said. "Perry Bricklayer. That's the lawyer Mr. Smitty gave us. Perry is supposed to be one of the top ten trial lawyers in the country." "Great! What about that lion that's working for Victor Rufio?" "You mean Carson Cruthers? He's still Rufio's lawyer. After we get through with him in court he'll probably wish he wasn't. Lawyers hate to lose." "I'm glad you're so confident. I don't know how this will turn out. Juries can be unpredictable." |
| "The important thing is that these women will have to dress appropriately," said Sam. "If they just dress like Working Girls, the jury might not take them seriously. But, if they dress like Ordinary Woman, who might be one's mother, wife, sister, or daughter, the jury might listen." "Are you sure that would work?" Skeemo asked. "I know of a Sociologist who conducted a simple experiment involving a set of clothing bought from a secondhand store for twenty dollars, and a set of clothing bought from a fancy store for a thousand dollars," Sam said. "First day, she entered a furniture store wearing the secondhand clothes - only one store associate talked to her, and that was mostly to see how she was doing. A few days later, she wore the thousand dollar outfit - twenty associates talked to her, one even offered to carry her purchases to her car. Of course, since one needs a Control, as well as repeat the experiment, she got her friends involved - they'd go into a store, that they'd never been in, wearing regular street clothes, record the amount of times someone helped them, then, a few days later, they'd enter the place wearing expensive clothes, and noted the reactions there. Overall, those who dress up were paid more attention to than when they dressed in street clothes." "And the lawyer?" "Perry knows the system very well, and he knows his opponent. He even knows how to use the women's backgrounds to his advantage, as he's not being paid the help them out, at least not by them." "So, what are you going to do now?" Skeemo asked. "Susan should be done visiting her friend," Sam said. "I'll go and pay her a visit." |
| The next few days were spent preparing for the trial. There was a lot of back and forth email between Perry Bricklayer and Carson Cruthers. Skeemo began to think that maybe some kind of plea bargain deal was going to be offered to Victor Rufio. He wondered how Sam would feel about that. When he got the chance, he brought it up. Skeemo and Sam were both in the office early on a Wednesday morning. "Hey, Sam," Skeemo said. "How do you feel about Victor Rufio being offered a plea bargain deal? Plead guilty to some charges, drop the other charges, and no trial necessary. Of course, he would serve some time, at least 5 years, maybe more." |
| "Five years? I doubt he'll last that long," said Sam. "From what I hear, Mr. Stripes is planning something for him." "Like what?" At this, the door burst open, and Victor entered the building, and his face was pure red. "You! You're the reason I lost my fight!" "Oh please," said Sam. "It's not my fault that the stories about you pissed your opponent more than they frightened him. You should of kept your mouth shut about his sister. Most brothers get protective of theirs." Victor charged him, sending Sam to the floor, and wrapped his fingers around the wolf's neck. "I'm going to kill you!" Sam pulled his leg up between them, and kicked out. It didn't do Victor any harm, but it had the desired effect of getting the fighter off of him. "I don't die that easily!" He got up, grabbed Victor, and began slamming his face into the counter. Victor swung his leg back, catching the wolf in the crotch, forcing him to left go. Victor grabbed a knife, and stabbed Sam in the shoulder. Sam howled in pain. The wolf gabbed the human's arm with one hand, and then smashed the other into it, snapping the bones in it, causing Victor to yell out in curses. Sam then let go of the arm, his own right arm now hurting too much for him to use it, unless he had to. "I'm going to kill you!" Victor yelled, as he grabbed another knife with his other hand. *KaBoom!* The roar of a gunshot thundered into Sam's ear, and Victor screamed in pain, and his hand clenched, splinters of wood and metal surrounded a circle in his hand. Sam looked at Skeemo; the rat was holding a handgun. "Next one goes right into your skull! Don't even think about moving!" "Thanks," Sam gasped out. "Think you can call 911?" "Can you watch him?" Skeemo asked. "Yeah," Sam said, as he got a gun out of a drawer with his left hand. "I'm not that good with this hand, but at this distance, you don't need to be that good." |
| Skeemo sat with Sam in the Emergency Room where the doctors were finishing up with bandaging Sam's shoulder after cleaning his stab wound. "Rufio is definitely in jail now," Skeemo said, "on assault with intent to kill charges. That will help our case against him as far as the women go by showing how violent he is." "That fancy lawyer of his, Carson Cruthers, will get him out on bond, but it does give us a lot more leverage if he wants to plea bargain. No less than ten years jail time, Skeemo." "I agree. Assuming he lasts that long in jail." Sam nodded. "Mr. Stripes is going to try to make sure he doesn't. I feel sure about that." |
| At this, Susan rushed into the room, and grabbed a hold of Sam. "Are you alright? The doctors said it was okay to see you now." "I was feeling much better before you started to crush my arm and ribs." "Oh, sorry." She released him. "Is that better?" "Yes." She then kissed him on the mouth. Sam wrapped his good arm around her, and held her close, as their tongues explored one another. "I'm going to leave the room," Skeemo said, as he opened the door, and left. Susan pulled her mouth away from Sam, and blushed. "Sorry, I don't know what overcame me." "It certainly wasn't lust," said Sam, who had a cocky grin on his face. "I sure did like it though." "My friend's going to be released from the hospital tomorrow," Susan said. "What about you?" "A few days, and then therapy." "I hear Rufio will be out on bond. I've talked to Jerry, and he's agreed to give my friend a job waiting tables." "Will she be safe?" Sam asked. "Jerry's been increasing security ever since the Stinkweed incident, although said security is still in theme with the place," said Susan. "In what way?" Sam asked. "A couple of security guards dressed as gunslingers, packing Colt Single Action Revolver Replicas, more revolvers, derringers, and pepperboxes in the drawers by the beds, sawed-off double barrel shotgun under the bar counter, along with other Old West themed weapons in certain other areas," said Susan. "That and Jerry's hired an expert to train us in how to use them, and most of us are fairly good shots, not that one needs to be one at less than ten feet. And, of course, it's all legal." "That's good to know," said Sam. "Worse comes to worse, if I lose my guns while someone is chasing me, I'll know where to head to, to get backup weapons." Susan chuckled. She then kissed him again, and Sam was more than happy to return the favor. |
| In the following days, Skeemo got to spend a lot of time with their lawyer, Perry Bricklayer. The more he saw of him the better he liked him and the more confident he was they would win in court. Perry had won his last 27 cases, an enviable record. But a week before the trial was due to begin, there was an upsetting development. One of the women who had agreed to testify called Skeemo to say she had changed her mind and didn't want to do it. Then another one called and another one. Skeemo suspected foul play. When he went out to visit one of the women who called in, he noticed she had a brand new car. He quickly put two and two together. Someone was buying off the women and paying them not to testify. He couldn't imagine who would be willing to spend so much money to help Victor Rufio. |
| Skeemo then called Sam's phone. Problem was, Skeemo's timing was bad, as usual. "Remind me to shoot that rat," Sam said, as he looked at the phone. "He should know better than to call me while I'm doing physical therapy." "Is that what you call this?" Susan asked, as she looked at the wolf. "Do you know how difficult it is to hold onto a woman when you only have one working shoulder?" Sam asked. Susan chuckled. "I suppose it would be." "Mind getting it for me?" Susan picked up the phone. "Hello?" "Where's Sam?" Skeemo asked. "He's stuck in the middle of something, if you understand what I'm saying." "You mean he's tied a knot in you?" Skeemo asked. "Yeah, and it won't be undone for a while." "Shit! I need him, now! The witnesses against Victor Rufio are recanting their statements, and someone seems to be buying them off!." Susan looked at Sam. "Trouble with the Victor Rufio case." "Put the phone at my ear." Sam then listened to what Skeemo had found. "That might be a problem," said Sam. "Go visit Mr. Stripes, he'll know how to get the information on who has the money and stuff." "You want me to visit a prison, just to get information from a guy who is this area's biggest crime lord?" Skeemo asked. "I don't feel like dying today." "You'll be fine," said Sam. "No one will mess with you, especially once they know you're there to see him. After all, people who cross Mr. Stripes tend to have a shortened life expectancy." "Yeah, but they make you undress, and put on that stupid green Visitor's Outfit," said Skeemo. "I don't like that color." "It's to make sure you're not trying to sneak anything in," said Sam. "Besides, if there's trouble, that color makes it easy to pick you out from the rest. Now, you'll be just fine. Susan, mind hanging up." Susan hung up the phone. "Now, where were we?" Skeemo looked at the offline phone. "Just great! He asks me to go into a place filled with killers, all while he shares a nice soft bed with a sexually active woman! If he wasn't my friend, I'd cut his other ear off!" |
| The prison wasn't quite as bad as Skeemo expected. At least the guards were respectful to him. He sat on one side of a glass partition while Mr. Stripes sat on the other. "You understand," Stripes said, "that my flow of information is severely limited while I am incarcerated?" "Yes," agreed Skeemo, "But I am stumped by this one. With Rufio almost guaranteed to get prison time and his career as a fighter being over, why would anyone invest money in him now?" "It's not about him," Stripes said. "It's about the girls. The Syndicate doesn't want those girls on the witness stand where they might expose connections better kept secret." "I think I understand. What is this syndicate? Some kind of organization of pimps?" Stripes laughed. "The Syndicate is a lot bigger than that. They control a hefty portion of the world's criminal activities. Drugs is the bigger part of the business, but prostitution and gambling as well." "Did you say they are worldwide?" "Yes," Stripes said, "but if you want the name of the local boss it's Marcel Bardot." "He's French? Marcel sounds like a wimpy name for a crime boss." Again Stripes laughed. "Trust me, he is no wimp. And if you are planning to confront him, I advise against it. He has efficient ways of making people disappear." |
| "Um, how efficient?" Skeemo asked. "He has two side businesses," Mr. Stripes said. "One is a butcher shop, with a reputation for removing ninety-nine percent of the meat from the animals they butcher, and the other is a five star restaurant, know for serving rare, and exquisite, delicacies." "Don't tell me; he butchers them in the one place, and then serves them as part of a meal in the other place?" Skeemo asked. "The only way to confirm that piece of speculation would be to send someone in, have them eat the House Special, and then pump their stomach, and then use D.N.A. analysis to see if the meat came from a regular animal, or a person," said Mr. Stripes. "You don't suppose there's an easier way to confirm this?" Skeemo asked. "You could be the House Special," said Mr. Stripes. "Okay, you ever do business with Mr. Bardot?" Skeemo asked. "You might say that we have a mutual understanding," said Mr. Stripes. "One of my men decided to get into the prostitution racket, with my blessing of course, and ran afoul of Mr. Bardot, who was going to kill him, unless I joined his group, with him being my Superior. I didn't like either option, so I had a detective, who was on my payroll, investigate him. As it turns out, Mr. Bardot, who has a reputation of being quite the lady's man, is actually gay, with a preference of having his lovers doing him in the anus. This detective got pictures, and gave them to me. I then went, with all of my men backing me, showed Mr. Bardot the pictures, and told him to release my man, or I'd give the pictures to the press. While Mr. Bardot's criminal activities are hardly common knowledge, the fact that he was gay was practically top secret. He released my man, and stays out of his business." "I see," said Skeemo. "Do you still have the photographs?" Mr. Stripes smiled. "Of course. You'll find them at my house; I'll just have to call my wife, and let her know to give them to you and your friend, Samuel. As it is, she'd appreciate talking to him again; he was very polite, especially compared to some of the other people who have come after me and other members of my family." |
| Skeemo told Sam about Mr. Stripes' proposition. "Sure, I'll visit his wife with you," Sam said. Veronica Stripes greeted them at the door of the Stripes mansion. Skeemo was surprised there was no butler to answer the door and she must have sensed his surprise because she said, "You are wondering where's the butler, aren't you? I need the exercise. I don't like sitting around while servants do everything. I wasn't brought up that way. Neither was Mr. Stripes, but he likes it well enough now, when he's not in prison, that is." Then she turned to Sam. "Sam! It's so good to see you again! We had such a good conversation last time you were here. You know how I love to talk." Skeemo was finding it hard to picture this talkative woman as the wife of Mr. Stripes. As far as looks went she was just average. Skeemo had imagined Stripes would be married to an attractive blond half his age. Maybe he had both a wife and a girlfriend. |
| "Let me get you some tea and coffee, and then we'll talk," said Mrs. Stripes. She then walked away. "I'm surprised Mr. Stripes is married to this lady," Skeemo muttered. "I mean, she's very plain looking, and she's in her fifties, if not sixties." "Mr. Stripes considers himself as a man with family values - he's not going to dump his wife of over thirty years for some young blond," said Sam. "But, what about when he's in the mood, but she isn't?" Skeemo asked. "He sees a Honey Bunny at The Bread and Butter Saloon, or at least he used to," said Sam. "As for which one, I wouldn't know - maybe it was Susan, but like I said, I wouldn't know - those girls wash between clients." "Still, makes me wonder why she's still married to him," said Skeemo. "I mean, she knows her husband, and two of her sons, are criminals, right?" "Yes, but Mr. Stripes didn't discuss business at home," said Sam. "Keeps her from being an Accessory to his crimes." "I'm surprised he was that thoughtful," said Skeemo. "He's a man that plans ahead - he knew he'd be caught eventually, and thus prepared things for it," said Sam. "As it is, he's still running the business, even from behind bars." "Seriously?" "Safest place to run the business actually," said Sam. "It's very difficult to smuggle in weapons, as you might have noticed when you went to visit him." "I'm glad that they didn't do any cavity searches on me," said Skeemo. "They have modified X-ray, Ultrasound, Metal Detectors, and everything else," said Sam. "That changing room is full of them. You can't even smuggle in a toothpick." "Toothpick?" "Choking hazard." "Okay." "Let's follow Mrs. Stripes," said Sam. "We'll need those photos to get Bardot to back off the witnesses." "So, what's the plan?" Skeemo asked. "Make copies, place copies in sealed envelopes, with instructions that the contents are to be published if we died, or disappeared, for any reason, and explain the situation to Mr. Burdot, telling him it's in his best interest to stop badgering the witnesses." "What if that doesn't work?" Skeemo asked. "Plan B." Sam tapped on the handle of his gun. "I don't think I'll like Plan B." "That's why Plan C is to kill Rufio in what looks to be a botched mugging attempt, with him having trying to rob someone, only for them to kill him," said Sam. "Of course, it would have to look like a mixture of accident and self-defense, which is doable, when the victim is a woman." |
| Skeemo shook his head. "Sam, sometimes your ideas are so devious I wonder which side of the law you are really on." "There are two sides?" Sam said, with mock surprise on his face. After siting with Mrs. Stripes for what seemed like hours, but was really only minutes, talking about stuff Skeemo had no interest in, the subject finally got around to the photos. However, Mrs Stripes only knew that she had a box to give to Sam. "I have no idea what's in it," she said. "Important papers?" "That's right," Sam said. "We need them for a court case. Mr. Stripes is very cooperative." "Do you think he will get out early for time off for good behavior?" she asked. "He will if I have anything to say about it." Back at the office, they made copies of the photos, sealed them, and left the copies with their lawyer. "To be opened in the event of our deaths." "Now to pay a little visit to Marcel Bardot," Sam said. |
| The two were soon inside Mr. Bardot's place. "I'm surprised you managed to get us in this place," Skeemo said. "How did you do it?" "After you told me who it was we'll be dealing with, I called to set up an appointment," said Sam. "Told him we had business that couldn't be discussed over the phone." "What kind of business?" Skeemo asked. "The less-than-legal kind," said Sam. "The guards might make things difficult," Skeemo said. "Listen, I've got backup in place." "Like who?" "Everyone from the Skies job," said Sam. "I'm surprised you didn't get the Army." "The only reason I got the police is because the Lead Prosecutor is using us as a go-between to deal with Mr. Bardot - Rufio injured his employees, and we need them to tell people what Rufio did to them - we don't want Bardot's business." "So, you're betting on him to be a pragmatic criminal." "Something like that." The two then entered Bardot's office, where they saw a skunk sitting in a chair, with a jaguar next to him. "Bonjour," the skunk said. "Je comprends que vous avez affaire avec nous, oui?" "Hello," the jaguar translated. "I understand that you have business with us, yes?" "I hate it when we have to deal with a translator," Skeemo groaned. "Everything takes twice as long." "Actually, it's to his benefit," Sam whispered. "Mr. Bardot not only understands, but speaks, English, even better than most, and Mr. Janus over there, is also his primary bodyguard, and, shall we say, lover." "Um, he's a feline," Skeemo said. "You know how they are down there, right?" "Takes all kinds," said Sam. Sam then looked at Mr. Bardot. "Copain, mon Français est très bon. Préférez-vous parler dans cette langue? Or should we keep this conversation to English?" Mr. Bardot grinned. "Je comprends. Janus, stand three meters behind me." The jaguar backed up ten feet. "What do you want?" Mr. Bardot asked. "For you to stop interfering with the witnesses in the Victor Rufio case," said Sam. "The more you interfear, the more likely it is for him to walk." "Why would I care about some awful boxer?" Mr. Bardot asked. "You wouldn't," said Sam. "However, he raped and brutalized a number of your girls." "I have no idea what you are talking about." Sam got out an envelope, and placed it on the table. "This might change your mind." Mr. Bardot opened the envelope, and looked at the images. "She is not one of mine." "It's Mr. Stripes' 16 year old niece," said Sam. "She was walking home from school when Rufio abducted her, tore her clothes, and took a broken bear bottle to her vagina. Another half inch, and I don't need to tell you what would of happened then. Others have had similar fates, and some have even died due to him." The skunk frowned. "I know. Personally, I'd like to guillotine the fils de pute, but that would complicate things." "Mr. Bardot, I don't care about business," said Sam. "I care about justice for this girl, your girls, other peoples' girls, independent girls, and for a friend of mine." "What about you?" Mr. Bardot asked. "He injured you, didn't he? Don't you want justice for yourself?" "I'm more concerned about these girls," said Sam. |
| Bardot looked at the pictures of himself in various unseemly positions. "Interesting," he murmured. "So you are threatening to publish these, eh? How do you know I will not be excited to be so exposed?" "We know," Sam said, "because of the very great efforts you make to keep all that secret. Don't try to bluff me. You don't want those pictures published. Let's make a deal." Bardot put the pictures back in the envelope and tossed it on the table. "Tell me what you want." "I want you to stop interfering with the trial. I want you to stop telling women not to testify. I want your dirty paws off of it. I want you out of it. That's the deal." Bardot looked thoughtfully at Sam. "Promise me one thing and you have a deal. I don't want your lawyer probing into the girl's business activities, asking who their pimps were, that kind of thing. Can't you prosecute Rufio without all that?" "I think so," Sam said. "Anyway, we never were going to emphasize that so many of the women were prostitutes." |
| "You are an interesting one to deal with," said Bardot. "In fact, I've heard quite a bit about you, about how your wife was murdered, and how you took vengeance upon her killer." "Did you hear the part where I killed a hundred of his guards with my bare hands?" Sam asked, sarcastically. Bardot grinned. "I heard it was five you did that to. The others were killed by a combination of assault rifles, small arms, explosives, and knives, most of which his guards carried on them. All you started out with was just a service sidearm, an M4A1, a 12 gauge pump shotgun, a hunting knife, and full SWAT body armor. Even then they still nearly killed you." "They were determined to send me to Hell, and I was just as determined not to go, and sent plenty of them there instead." "I also heard that you got off rather easily, temporary insanity, or some such thing," said Bardot. "Very temporary," said Sam. "I knew what I was doing, I just didn't care. I had to chose between obeying the law, or doing what was right." Bardot nodded. "I understand. It's funny how some people on opposite sides have so much in common." "Let's get back to the case at hand," said Sam. "You'll back off the girls?" "Of course." |
| "Good," Sam said. "You got anything else to discuss, Skeemo?" Skeemo put out his hands. "Nope. Sounds like we have a workable deal." On the way back to the office Skeemo asked Sam, "What do you think? His word is good?" "In this particular case it is. He doesn't want those pictures of him to come out, no matter how much he tries to make it look like he's not all that concerned. In his business, it would be suicide." Skeemo sighed. "I'm not looking forward to sitting in court every day." |
| "Just be glad we're not on trial," said Sam. "As it is, I was lucky in that the Prosecution in my case didn't really want to win - it never looks good to prosecute a man who was trying to get justice for his murdered wife when the law failed to do so. After all, before that moment, I was a by-the-book cop - sure I had a few citations for the occasional use of excessive force, though there were extenuating circumstances, like I had honestly thought that my partners were in danger, and during the few times I'd been forced to use my firearm, and killed someone, I followed the rules - turned in my gun, went through evaluation, and all that - I never went cowboy until that moment." "What made you do it?" Skeemo asked. "I'd been discharged from the hospital, my partner was taking me to his place until I got back on my feet, and we drove by that ambassador's place," Sam said. "My partner mentioned that the guy would be leaving for South America the next day, and there wasn't a damn thing they could do about it. It was then that I knew what I had to do. After my partner had left me at his place, and went back to the station, I went and got his off-duty stuff, took the keys to his wife's car, went to the ambassador's house, and I went in guns blazing. I didn't care if I lived or died, so long as I sent him to hell with me." "You honestly thought that you were going to go to Hell?" Skeemo asked. "Something told me that I wouldn't be going to Heaven after I did what I did," said Sam. "I managed to locate him, then I did unto him what he did unto me, poured gasoline all over him, and I lit a match. You ever watch a mansion burn to the ground? It's really moving, especially when it's not yours, and the man that killed your wife and child is burning to death, and especially as you keep killing his henchmen as you leave the place to burn. I felt invincible. It wasn't until I was outside that I found out that I was bleeding to death, such was the power of the adrenaline I was feeling. After all, fire enough high-power bullets, and even the best bullet-proof armor will give." "Then, how are you still alive?" Skeemo asked. "As soon as the first shots were fired, someone called 911," Sam said. "Of course, without permission from the ambassador, the police couldn't enter the grounds, and neither could anyone else - the firepeople made sure the surrounding areas were safe, and the others waited until people were off the grounds before giving them help. I managed to get off the grounds before the blood loss was too much." "And afterwards?" "A lack of reliable witnesses, plus the fact that no one really wanted to testify against me, and of course my lawyer." |
| The courtroom was packed with spectators. The press had sensationalized the trial: "Boxer Beats Up Women! " A number of the women who would testify were sitting in the courtroom. Skeemo and Sam sat behind their lawyer. "I feel good about this," Skeemo said, "but I hope it doesn't drag on too long." Rufio sat next to his lawyer and maintained a blank face. Suddenly a woman, one of Rufio's victims, stood up with a gun in her hand, pointed it at Rufio and fired twice. The courtroom erupted in pandemonium. Security officers tackled the woman and got the gun away from her. Later an investigation would be launched into how she got it past the metal detectors. Meanwhile, Rufio lay bleeding on the courtroom floor. Sam turned to Skeemo. "Well, it looks like you might have got your wish. It won't be a long trial." Rufio died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. |
| Sam frowned as he looked at the police report some days later. "Detector was offline for maintenance. Should of had extra security." "It's like a big old empty hole you know," said Skeemo. "I wanted to hear the judge say 'Guilty', not receive word that Rufio was now just dead. Annoying." "Disappointed Mr. Stripes for sure," said Sam. "I received word that he'd arranged for a guy that was doing time for multiple murders to get a baseball bat, and, initially, Mr. Stripes would have broke Rufio's legs, before the murderer smashed his skull in." "So, now what?" Skeemo asked. "On to the next job." "What's the doctor say about your arm?" "Still need to leave it in a sling, for the muscles and tissues to knit back together." |
| "South America?" Sam asked. "Best tell Mr. Smitty to get that group of Mercenaries he has on call ready." "What for?" Skeemo asked. "There's a guy there that wants to kill me, that and I killed an ambassador from down there," said Sam. "Granted, he was a murderer, but I think there's still a warrant for my arrest in that particular country." |
| "We don't have to do this job," Skeemo said. Sam waved his hand dismissively. "No, I want to do it. Sounds exciting. Who knows? Maybe we'll get to take a boat ride on the Amazon. Always wanted to see that river." "Count me out," Sapphire said. "I have no interest in tramping through rainforest jungles with snakes and spiders and headhunter cannibals." "I don't think there are any cannibals," Skeemo said. "I'm still out," Sapphire said. "You guys go have a party in South America. I'll take care of business here while you're gone." Warren Satchel was Ronald Frump's representative. He met Sam and Skeemo in Rio de Janiero when they stepped off the plane. "I've got all the information for you. Our men were highly placed officials. Took years to get it set up, but they were a goldmine of information for the Frump Organization. Seven days ago all three of them disappeared. At the offices where they worked they tell me the men quit. I don't believe that, of course." "Can we get a bath and a meal first?" Skeemo said. "It was a long flight." "Sure! Sure! We can talk over dinner. I'll drop you at your hotel so you can clean up." |
| "Smells like a set up," Sam said, when the two were in a private limo. "There's something not right about this." "So, mind telling me about the guy that might be after you down here?" Skeemo asked. "Ricardo Andrés Juan, multiple murderer, wealthy, and highly connected," Sam said. "Despite being the suspect in various murders, he has never been sentenced, because those who plan to testify against him have a habit of disappearing, or parts of their bodies turn up in the jungle, after they'd been eaten by scavengers." "What do you think he does?" Skeemo asked. "Here's my theory - he, or one of his associates, kidnaps said witness, or whomever it is that displeases them, gives them some basic survival tools, drops them in the jungle, and hunts them down, like as if they were a wild animal." "What makes you think that?" Skeemo asked. "Part of one body was found with a knife nearby, and the skull of another victim was found with a bullet hole in it, from a high-powered rifle." |
| "I think I read a book like that once," Skeemo said. "A wealthy man lived on his own island and when a boat sunk nearby, he welcomed the survivors ashore and then started hunting them down like animals one by one. He would give them a head start and then go after them." "Sounds very similar," Sam said. At dinner, Warren Satchel gave them the names and occupations of the three missing men. All three of them were single. Satchel had already questioned neighbors and family and any girl friends, but no one had any idea what had happened to the men. The next day there was a break in the case when it was discovered that three men fitting the descriptions had flown from Rio de Janiero to Macapa, a city at the mouth of the Amazon river. "Why would they go there?" Skeemo asked. "Isn't it obvious?" Warren said. "To hire a boat to go up the Amazon." "But why would they do that?" "I don't know, but I have tickets to Macapa for the four of us." The next day they were in Macapa and by the day after that they had located someone who had seen the men depart in a boat headed up the Amazon river to Manaus. |
. . ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "Looks like we're going up the Amazon," said Warren. "Is that really necessary?" Skeemo asked. "I didn't bring any jungle clothes with me." "Not to worry," Warren said. "I'll make sure you guys are outfitted properly." The next morning, wearing jungle khakis, the three men departed on a hired boat that chugged patiently up the Amazon river. At first the river was so broad that they could not see both banks, but after several days of travel, it's width was not so amazing. "This is one big river," Sam said. Skeemo looked over the side at the brown water flowing past. "And probably full of alligators, snakes, and piranha." |
| "That's not what one needs to worry about around here," said Sam. "The one you need to worry about is the fish that tracks urea to it's source." "What?" Skeemo asked. "I'm forgetting the name of it, at the moment, but if you decide to pee in this river, make sure you're not in the river, or else this fish will swim right up your penis, and, due to the spines on its back, will be tough to remove." "Are you sure about that?" Skeemo asked. "Saw it on Animal Planet, or was that the Discovery Channel, one of them at any rate." |
| "Don't worry," Skeemo said. "There is no way I am getting in this river. I don't even like to swim in a chlorinated pool." "There is nothing to fear," Warren said. "It's not like every square inch of the river is teeming with vicious life forms. Don't we have sharks at the Atlantic beaches in the USA? And jellyfish? But thousands of people swim in the ocean anyway because the chance of getting attacked is so low." "Speaking of chance of getting attacked," Skeemo said. "What's the chance that hostile Indians will take a shot at us?" "If we go far enough up river then it's almost a certainty. But first we must see if we can pick up the trail of our missing employees in Manaus." |
| "Should be fine anyways," said Sam. "So long as we don't bother them, they won't bother us." |
. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** . Manaus was a bigger city than Skeemo expected, with broad boulevards and tall office buildings, but the place where they docked their riverboat was on the outskirts of the city and was a modest residential area. After a day of asking questions they got lucky and were talking to the man who had brought the three missing employees to Manaus. "No, they did not stay in Manaus. They got on another boat and continued on up the Amazon. I myself do not go further than Manaus. The boat was the Shrinking Violet and it is owned by Juan Perino. It is painted purple and white." "You've been a big help," Skeemo said. "Did they say where they were going or why?" "No, they did not talk much except with each other." "What about luggage?" "They had back packs and duffel bags. Nothing unusual about them." The next day Skeemo and Sam and Warren hired a new boat and continued chugging placidly up the muddy waters of the Amazon. Once they left the Manaus area, a vast wilderness surrounded them and they knew they were deep in the jungle. "The mystery deepens," Warren said. "Obviously these three men planned this together, but why?" "Maybe they stole something," Sam suggested. "Is anything missing from where they worked? Like art or money?" "Not that I know of, although make an accurate account is not easy. I cannot say for sure they did not steal anything, but if they did, I don't know what it was. But the idea is impossible. These were long time employees and very loyal." |
| "Maybe they pissed someone off," Sam suggested. "The question would then be who, and why?" |
| "I investigated that as well as I could," Warren said. "No one could tell me of any fights, arguments, or disagreements between these three men and any of their co-workers." Skeemo gazed at the muddy water flowing past the boat, then looked up. "These three men all worked in different offices, right? Is there any evidence that they knew each other well and got together regularly?" "I'm afraid they couldn't help but know each other since all three of them worked for Mr. Frump. He would occasionally make trips to Brazil and when he did, he would meet with them." "OK," Skeemo said, "they knew each other, but were they close friends? Did they hang out together after work?" |
| "Always a good question," said Sam "Another question is, does Mr. Frump have any enemies we'd need to worry about?" |
| "Mr. Frump has plenty of enemies," Warren said. "Or maybe you prefer the term competitors. He's a businessman. As for our three missing hombres getting together after work.... If they did I was unable to prove it." They almost chugged past the Shrinking Violet without seeing it. It was pulled up at a tiny dock shaded by low-hanging vines. They tied up beside it and went ashore. There was a trail through the jungle that led from the dock to a small Indian village. The chief greeted them. "Yes, three white men come here. They go into jungle. Look for temple." "What kind of temple?" Skeemo asked. "Very old. People build many years ago. No good now. No one use." Skeemo looked at Sam and Warren. "Treasure hunting? Do you think they found out there might be some gold trinkets in that old temple?" "If it's an untouched temple," Warren said, "there might be a lot more than just trinkets in it. A big archaeological find could be worth millions... if it was legal to sell it, which it's not. Any find is automatically the property of the government." |
| "Best move carefully," said Sam. "You never know what animals might be out hunting." |
| They were following a path through the jungle that Sam and Skeemo could barely see, but they had hired an expert tracker, an Indian named Spirit Bird, to help them locate the three missing men. "I don't think hunting animals will be a problem," Warren said. "The jaguar goes after smaller prey than us and it's the largest carnivore. The real problem is poisonous animals and plants and annoying ones like ants and spiders." As if on cue, a large spider fell onto Skeemo's shoulder. He jumped, screamed, and frantically brushed it away. "Was it poisonous?" "I don't know," Wareen said. "You were so quick, it was gone before I could identify it." Skeemo shuddered. "I hate spiders!" Spirit Bird said, "In jungle many spiders. Some friends, some not." |
| "Looked like one of those bird hunters to me," said Sam. "Hey Skeemo, you part bird?" "No," the rat said. "Then you should be fine, unless that one likes rats as well!" |
| The path widened into a clearing and they found themselves gazing at what at first seemed to be a pile of rocks. Gradually the shape of it emerged as they looked it over. So much of it had collapsed that it hardly seemed to be a building at all. Vines and shrubbery grew over it and birds and butterflies flitted back and forth. "That looks like some kind of entrance," Skeemo said, pointing at a black hole in the rubble. Sam examined the ground around the hole. "And someone has been in and out recently." "Or some thing," said Skeemo. "Maybe an animal lives here." Warren picked up a cigarette butt. "That animal has some bad habits." |
| Sam grabbed the butt and sniffed it. "They were here six hours ago, maybe less." "How do you know?" Skeemo asked. "It's relatively clean, and hasn't been all smashed in by people stepping on it, yet." |
| "I guess it's up to me to go in there," Skeemo said. "Rats are supposedly experts on dark narrow spaces." "That might contain spiders?" Sam said. "Don't start with that talk. I just made a major effort to get my courage up." Skeemo ducked into the black hole and a few minutes later popped out again. "Nothing much there. Maybe they just checked it out and moved on." Spirit Bird had been scouting the edge of the clearing. "Trail here. They go this way." Skeemo sighed. "We better keep moving if we want to catch up with them." |
| "I just hope this trail doesn't lead to someplace bad," said Sam "Like Ricardo?" Skeemo asked. Sam nodded. "What do we do if we encounter him?" Skeemo asked. "The answer is simple," Sam said, as he patted the handle of the gun on his left hip. "Do you think you could fight him?" Skeemo asked. "You still can't use your right arm to well." "If I had to." |
| They pushed through an especially dense patch of rainforest and met with a surprise. Suddenly they were surrounded by Indians in loincloths equipped with blow guns, spears, and bows and arrows. The leader chattered something. Spirit Bird said, "He says we are to go with them." "Why?" Skeemo asked. Spirit Bird spoke in the Indian language and the Indian leader replied. Spirit Bird said, "He says you come with them because if you do not they kill you." "OK," Skeemo said. "That's a good reason. Don't get trigger happy, Sam." "I'm cool," Sam said. "But if they try to take my gun away..." "There's a lot of them and only four of us and you're the only one with a gun." |
| The Indian village was built like an arcade. It made a giant circle but was open in the center. The outer walls were woven from leaves and twigs. There was one entrance. Inside the ground was swept completely clean so that it was just hard-packed earth. The four adventurers were led to the center of the village where an old man came out to look them over. "He is the chief," Said Spirit Bird. The chief spoke and Spirit bird translated. "He wants to know if you are looking for the three white men who already came here. I told him yes. They will take us to them." "So why did his men threaten to kill us if we didn't follow them?" Skeemo asked. "He sounds friendly enough." "Maybe he is friendly and maybe he is not," said Spirit Bird. Sam nudged Skeemo. "He didn't say whether the three white men were dead or alive." |
| "What do you mean by that?" Skeemo asked. "You'd best hope they aren't the ones that killed the three we are after, if they are dead that is," Sam said. |
| Sam, Skeemo, Warren, and Spirit Bird followed three of the Indians into the jungle. It wasn't long before they arrived at another temple, this one in much better shape than the previous ruins. The three Indians vanished into the rainforest, leaving the adventurers on their own in front of the temple. "Hello?" Skeemo yelled. "Is anyone in there?" The only answer was the alarmed cries of some jungle birds, the chattering of the dozens of monkeys in the trees, and the roar of a big cat off in the distance. "Let's take a look," Skeemo said. This time they could walk right in as the entrance was mostly intact. Inside there were enough gaps in the stones to let in some light. The three missing men were sitting with their backs against a wall. All three of them were tied up, hands and feet, and gagged. Skeemo pulled the gag off one of them. "Thank God you got our message!" he said. "What message?" Skeemo said. "We found you by following you." The gags were removed and the men untied. They were anxious to tell their story, but when the name of Ricardo Andrés Juan was mentioned, Sam's ears perked up. "Wait a minute!" he said. "Go back over that part of your story again. How does Ricardo figure into this?" |
| "A number of our people keep disappearing, and his name keeps on being mentioned," the one said. |
| "But why are you here?" Skeemo asked. "How did you manage to get so deep into the rainforest?" One of the three employees hung his head sheepishly. "To tell you the truth, Mr. Skeemo, we were up to no good. My job at the Geological Survey Office gave me access to maps and information fresh from the field before anyone else saw it. When I saw the report of the finding of this temple, I knew it would be worth a fortune. I contacted George and Ringo here and we all agreed to go for it." "You decided to rob the temple before anyone else could?" "That's right, but somehow Ricardo found out we were onto something. He followed us here and as soon as we located the temple he was all over us. I gave one of the Indians a note and told him to get it to the ranger station as quickly as possible. I thought that was why you were here." "No, Mr. Frump was interested in finding out what happened to you so he hired us to find you." "Aw, what a boss!" said the employee. "But he will be so disappointed when he hears the truth." "So who tied you up?" Skeemo asked. "The Indians?" "No, I told you. Ricardo and his men." "You mean they are here? Now?" Sam said. A voice behind them said, "That's right, Sam. I'm here. Now." |
| Sam and the other two turned around. Standing twenty feet away was a human, dressed up like a businessman, with twenty armed guards. "What do you want?" Sam asked. "Truth be told, I'd like to kill you, slowly, and painfully," said Ricardo. "After all, you caused the deaths of my two brothers, not that I liked them, what with the one dealing in narcotics, and the other being a corrupt ambassador, but they were my brothers none the less." "Then kill me, and get it over with already," Sam said, inching his left hand towards his gun. "Uh uh uh," said Ricardo. "Go for your gun, and my guards will kill your friends as well." "Do you expect me to just stand here and not defend myself?" Sam asked. "No, I expect you and your friends to dine with me, and let my doctors fix up that arm of yours," said Ricardo. "I find it to be rather unsporting to hunt prey that's incapable of fighting back effectively." "You call giving me a knife and giving yourself a high-powered rifle fair?" Sam asked. "It is, given I could give you nothing," Ricardo said. "You have a point there." "I'm glad you understand." |
| Dinner was an awkward affair. Ricardo did most of the talking while Sam and Skeemo and Warren and the three employees sat sullenly chewing on their food. It wasn't a bad meal - roast pig and various jungle vegetables and fruits - but none of them felt very hungry. "This will be the biggest hunt I have ever undertaken," Ricardo boasted. "Six of you! It seems inevitable that at least one of you could get away, doesn't it? Hahaha! Keep hope alive!" "You're a psychopath!" Skeemo blurted. Ricardo shrugged. "No, just a hunter, a post-modern hunter who is helping to thin down the human herd. Overpopulation is a big problem, you know?" |
| Sam chuckled. "Tell me, have you really done your homework on me?" "Why, yes, I have," Ricardo said. "I even know about Mr. Smitty's plan to send in a team of mercenaries to wherever you disappear to, if you don't call him within a few days. Too bad I'll be gone from this location before then." Sam grinned. "Actually, the plan's slightly different when I'm not home - I have to call him every day, or else he will send the team of fifty mercenaries to my location." "What makes you think that I won't be able to buy them off?" Ricardo asked. "Mr. Smitty's smart enough to hire those who don't sell out their employers, especially when he gives them a very good incentive to make sure that I'm alive and safe," said Sam. "He's paying them each a million dollars, and an extra two million to make sure that I'm alive. He tends to get what he pays for, and makes sure that they are supplied with the best of supplies." Sam looked around at Ricardo's goons. "I wonder how much he pays you. Mr. Smitty's men are getting a million dollars each. What's your combined pay? One million? Two million? Perhaps less than a million even?" "Do you think that you can bribe, or even scare, my men into joining you?" Ricardo asked. He pulled out a pistol. "That won't work." He then shot a goon who was reaching for the yams, the man's head practically exploding. "He forgot to say 'Please pass the yams.' I utterly detest bad manners." Sam looked at the body as it was being removed by some of the others, and then back at Ricardo. "I find that shooting someone, or even arresting someone, when they are trying to eat, to be even worse manners." Ricardo grinned. "Just keep this in mind; my men fear me more than they do you." Sam's eyes narrowed. "Then remember this, sometimes a man turns fear into courage, and a scared man then becomes brave enough to face that which scared them. I'll cause your men to fear me so much, they'll turn on you." |
| Ricardo put them in a locked room for the night. "I want you all to get a good night's sleep. You'll need your energy tomorrow. I want my prey give me a good day's hunting. Please be energetic as you attempt to elude me. Good-night!" Of course, none of them were able to easily fall asleep. They sat up discussing the turn of events and considering the best strategies to ensure their survival. "Too bad I already called Mr. Smitty this morning," Sam said. "It will be tomorrow afternoon before he realizes something is wrong." "Tomorrow in the jungle we should stick together," Skeemo said, "so some of us can always keep watch while the others rest." "No, we should split up," Warren said. "It will be harder for Ricardo to find six of us in six different locations than if we are all in the same location." Skeemo turned to Sam. "What do you think?" |
| "We will need weapons to fight back with," said Sam. "Thing is, he'll be giving us one of the most important weapons ever made - a knife." "What's so good about that?" Skeemo asked. "Cut a six foot long branch, sharpen the one end, and you got a spear. Cut a vine, and you've got rope. You're only limited by your imagination." "But, he and his men will have firearms," said one of the employees. "Trip vine and spiked pit combination," said Sam. "Guy trips on the vine, falls into the spiked pit. Steal his gun and other weapons. Point is, if you want weapons, you'll have to kill to get them." |
| "That's a good idea," Skeemo said. "First thing we should do is build a pit trap. Then at least we have a chance of getting one of their guns. That would even things up quite a bit if we had a gun." "But that will require us sticking together," Warren said. "I feel like that's making it easy for him. All he has to do is find us and get all six of us at once." "Why don't you go off on your own, then, Warren? The rest of us will build the trap. If he finds us, at least you will still have a chance." "Well... if that's OK with everyone." "It's OK with me," said one of the employees. "Everybody should be able to choose what they think is the best course of action. As for me, I am sticking with the group and helping build the trap. I like the idea of getting one of their guns." |
| "Thing is this Warren, he'll be after me more than he'll be after the rest of you," said Sam. "I'll be the obvious target. You guys have to pick off his henchmen from behind, and don't you dare get squeamish about killing. Hesitate, and you'll be killed." |
| Skeemo looked thoughtful. "Sam, I hesitate to suggest this, and tell me if I'm out of line, but after we get the pit built, since it's you he wants most, maybe you could act as a lure so we can catch one of them in our pit?" Sam had a crooked grin. "You mean like run out there and yell, 'Here I am! Over here!' and then run back toward the pit?" "OK, it sounds silly when you put it that way, but yeah, something like that." |
| "That's what I meant when I said I'd be the designated target," said Sam. "I have no issues about killing them, one way of another." |
| The next morning at dawn, the six prisoners were released. "I'll give you a couple of hours head start," Ricardo said. "Then it's bang bang, baby! Hahaha!" "He's crazy!" Skeemo said as they ran through the jungle. After a while Sam brought them to a halt. "This is a good place to put the pit." Warren said, "I'm going on alone. I wish you all the best of luck." Then he shook hands all around and disappeared into the brush. "Where will he go?" Skeemo asked. "Probably try to make to to the river and float downstream," Sam said, "but that will be a mistake. If the piranhas don't get him the alligators will. Plus a man's head in the water is a tempting rifle target." It wasn't long before they had a pit trap built that Sam pronounced as being "pretty damn good for a rush job." Skeemo and the three employees hid in the jungle while Sam headed back up the trail to attract a victim into the pit. |
| Of course, Sam was no fool. While he was using himself as bait, he was doing all he could to minimize his chances of being seen too soon, as he held onto his knife, sniffing the air, and trying to listen for unnatural sounds. "Come on," he muttered. "Where are you at? You aren't on the trail, that means you're either in the woods, or up a tree, laying your own trap." |
| In the far distance a shot rang out, then another one. Sam nodded. "So that's where you are. Warren, may you rest in peace." Back at the pit Skeemo looked up at the sound of the shots. "I hope that wasn't Sam." "It was too far away," said an employee. "Then Ricardo must have found Warren. Too bad. Warren should have stayed with us." The normal sounds of the jungle returned and Skeemo and the others resumed their waiting. After what seemed like hours, they heard the sound of something coming through the underbrush. |
| Fortunately, or unfortunately, the thing that came running through was a wild pig. It tripped on the rope and fell into the pit, getting skewered by several stakes, and breaking several more. "That's just great," Skeemo muttered. "All that work ruined by Porky Pig." He then heard another sound, and saw Sam show himself. "We're good so far," Sam said. "He's not after us, yet." "What about Warren?" Skeemo asked. Sam shrugged his shoulders. "I checked the river. No signs of a body, that I could find. Maybe he made it, or maybe the local wildlife had a free lunch." "Well, we got some issues with the pit," said Skeemo. Sam looked, and licked his lips. "Dinner, and bait for another trap." "What do you mean?" one of the employees asked. "Picture this; you're sent to patrol a section of woods that no one else is supposed to be in, when you smell smoke, and meat cooking," Sam said. "You have to check it out. You see a fire with a roasting pig, and what looks to be some people sitting around, you call for backup, if you're smart. If you aren't you might walk into a trap where it turns out that those people are disguised logs or rocks, and you get stabbed in the back." "So, can you make a fire to set this trap up?" another employee asked. Sam felt a moss-covered log. "It's a little tricky, but I know how to do it, with just a knife, and a few pieces of the right type of dry wood." "What about us?" Skeemo asked. "Skeemo, you get to help me gut the pig, and set up potentially another trap, which will be used for another trap." "What?" Skeemo asked. "Saw signs of a jaguar; catch it with the guts of this pig, unleash it upon our foes at the right moment." "How do we do that?" Skeemo asked. "Saw a stone pit about twenty feet in length, and ten feet wide, and eight feet deep," Sam said. "Survivable if you fall in, unless there's a pissed-off cat inside of it." Skeemo grinned. "Clever." "And the rest of us?" the third employee asked. "Fix this trap and stay hidden. Might get another type of pig, preferably one with a gun." |
| There followed an hour of feverish work with all of them looking over their shoulders worried that at any moment Ricardo or one of his men would appear. When they were 90% done, Sam said, "I better backtrack and see where they are while you guys finish up. Remember what you're supposed to do." Sam ran to a tree he had spotted previously as being excellent for climbing. Once up in its branches he had a good view back down the trail. He just wished the monkeys would stop screaming their protests against his intrusion into their area of the forest. To an experienced tracker, the distress calls of the monkeys would be a dead giveaway that something was up. |
| Eventually, the creatures managed to quiet down, to a tolerable degree. That being said, it was still noisy, but it was the normal noise. Dead silence would of meant that something worse was nearby, like Ricardo, or his men. Sam carefully looked around, but he didn't see anything, yet. |
| It wasn't long before things grew very quiet. Sam heard the man before he saw him. The he saw him, a man with a rifle who was making no effort to move stealthily. Sam ran back to the pit trap to give his news. "Someone's coming! Get ready! I think it's only one man, but be ready for anything." |
| "How long do we wait?" Skeemo whispered, after the group hid themselves in the vegetation. "Until we're sure he went down a different path, or we hear him fall into the trap," said Sam. |
| It wasn't long before they heard the man's startled yell as he crashed through the thin covering of the pit trap. "Come on!" Sam said, "And be careful! Remember, he's got a gun." But when they heard no more sounds from the man, they cautiously peered over the edge of the pit and could see that he was in no condition to use his rifle... ever again." "That was more effective than I expected," Skeemo said. Sam nodded. "He must have taken one of the stakes through the heart. Instant death." "Plenty of ammo, too," Skeemo said. "I feel like we're on a more even footing now." "Don't get overconfident. Ricardo is an expert hunter." "So what do you suggest we do now?" Skeemo asked. |
| "Now, for a little bit of psychological warfare," Sam said, as he pulled out his knife. About thirty minutes later, Skeemo was feeling more than a little green around the gills as he looked at the body of the man that had been killed in the trap. "Sam, sometimes I worry about you. You do realize that you, quite literally, desecrated this guy's corpse? I mean, you freaking tied him up to a tree, cut open his belly, like you would an animal, pulled out his guts, left them at his feet, and slit his throat, and before you did all that, you stripped him naked, and cut off his manhood." Sam cleaned his knife with the dead man's shirt. "This does two things - it tells them that we killed one of theirs, and it tells them what they can look forward to." "I don't know Sam," said Skeemo. "Won't this make them angry?" "If they want to treat us like animals, we'll treat them like animals," said Sam. "That message is being sent to them, loud and clear. The next person we kill, I might quarter him, and tie the pieces to a limb, like if one was curing meat." "So, we're going to do worse and worse to them?" Skeemo asked. "That would be the idea," Sam said. "Now, I'm hungry. Let's go check on that pig, and after that, see if we caught that jaguar yet." |
| There was a debate about whether they should devote their energies to cooking the pig, but Sam argued that it only took one of them to cook it and they wouldn't cook the whole pig, just some small choice cuts on green sticks over a campfire. Cooking time would be minimal and they would all benefit from the extra energy they would derive from eating meat. They made the trip to the stone pit where they had baited a trap for a jaguar and discovered they had gotten lucky. He was in it and not too happy about it. "Let's get this pit covered over," Sam said and showed them how to lay thin branches in a pattern. When that was done they covered the branches with leaves and then a thin layer of soil and sod. "Does it look solid?" Sam asked. "Looks solid to me," Skeemo said. "I would walk on it." "Let's go see if our food is ready." |
| The food was ready, so the group picked up their pieces, and were about to eat when Sam told them to hold up. "We need to eat away from the fire," he said. "The smell of burning wood and cooked meat will draw people here. We'll eat fifty feet away from it - in that direction. That way we can eat, and rest, in relative safety." "What about sleeping?" Skeemo asked. "One man away, the rest asleep, and change every two hours," said Sam. "If you can't stay awake during your shift, someone might go short their sleep time, or worse." |
| Eating the roast pig without salt or pepper or barbecue sauce was better than Skeemo expected. The pork had an unexpected sweetness of taste that Skeemo had never noticed before. He was licking his lips and patting his tummy when the man they had left to watch the trail came running back. "Someone's coming!" They all grabbed their weapons, makeshift spears for most of them, but the captured gun for Sam, and took up positions. |
| Soon enough, they heard a scream of horror, and disbelief. "Did he fall into the trap?" one of the men asked. Sam grinned. "No, he just found his buddy, and now knows what awaits him." "What did you do with the body?" the man asked. "You do not want to know," said Skeemo. "Although I will say this, it was very disrespectful to the dead, and creeps me out." They then soon heard another scream, and a snarling roar. "Well, if he's not dead, he soon will be," said Sam. |
| They all ran over to the jaguar pit, but it was too late. The angry cat had made short work of killing the hunter. Skeemo managed to fish his gun out of the pit by using a long branch while the others distracted the cat. "Now we have two guns. I wonder if Ricardo is getting worried?" "I doubt it," Sam said. "He's probably glad we didn't go down easy. Now he's psyched up for the challenge of taking us down himself." As if on cue, there was the crack of a rifle and one of the three employees fell over. "Take cover!" Sam said. |
| Sam took his gun, and fired a few shots in the direction the gunfire had come from. He then stopped, and listened. There was silence. "Did you get him?" Skeemo whispered. "I don't know," Sam whispered back. "But let's move, and get him out of here." Sam pointed at the injured employee. "Do you think-" "I pray he isn't," Sam finished. "I'll cover you while you get him." "Why me?" Skeemo asked. "At the moment, you're faster than I am, and while my aim is a bit compromised with the way my arm is, I'm still a better shot than you." "Good enough for me." |
| Skeemo darted out to the injured employee and grabbed his legs and began dragging him into cover. He expected any moment to hear the rifle again, but all was silent. When he was in a safe place, he and Sam checked the employee's pulse and breathing. He had neither. "That's it for him," Skeemo said. "What are we going to do? We can't just leave his body here, can we?" "What choice do we have?" Sam replied. "We can come back later for it." "If there is a later," Skeemo said. "So now there are four of us. I wonder if it's just Ricardo left?" "Him and one other, I think. We took out two of his men. I'm pretty sure there were only three." "Four men against two men. Damn! We should be able to win this thing!" "But it's only our two guns against whatever they have and I suspect they have stuff we don't know about. Maybe even grenades. Who knows?" |
| "Hell, we were at the guy's house - he has at least two dozen men, if not more," said Sam. "If we are to have any chance at beating him, we must stick to ambushes and traps, and we need to move from this location anyways." "What about the jaguar?" Skeemo asked. Sam crept over, and looked down in the hole, where he saw the cat still working on its grisly feast. "It should be fine for a while. It will probably jump out when it gets hungry again." |
| The four of them slipped away into the jungle. They had decided their best bet was to reach the river, make a raft, and float away. It would be very risky, because in the water they would be easy targets from the river banks. But they did have the two guns and could shoot back. They managed to achieve the first part of their plan without incident. At the river bank they began tying together fallen wood with vines. "Don't worry too much about what it looks like," Sam said. "We just need a pile of rubbish that floats. The less it looks like a raft, the better. Maybe we can hide in it." |
| When they had a pile big enough to float with all four of them on it, they pushed it away from the river bank and out into the current. "So far, so good," Skeemo said. "Shhh!" Sam whispered. "I think I see someone on the bank." They were far enough out in the river to be moving with the current. Skeemo saw shadowy figures in the trees. |
| "This don't look good," said Skeemo. "Well, I see something else." Sam pointed a finger at the riverbank on the other side. "Warren, or his body." "Is he dead?" Skkemo asked. "He doesn't look to be moving," said Sam. "Might be faking it." |
| "Pretty good job of faking," Skeemo said. "I think I can see a swarm of flies over him." "Look! More men!" said one of the employees, pointing at more figures on the river bank. "Indians!" said Skeemo. "I wonder if Ricardo has any Indians working for him?" |
| "Look!" Skeemo said. "They're pointing at our raft. I wonder if they know we are hidden in it?" "Indians have pretty good eyes," Sam said. "Fortunately, we are out of bow range. You know, I think we might have pulled this off." Then they heard the sound of a motorboat coming toward them. "You may have spoken too soon," Skeemo said. |
| "What do we do?" Skeemo asked. "If they are friendly, see about getting a ride to safety," said Sam. "But, what if they ain't friendly?" Sam grinned. "Then see about getting a ride to safety." |
| As the boat came closer it became obvious it was Ricardo. He was standing in the back of the boat and another man was driving. "He's got to be a pretty good shot to hit us while shooting from a standing position on a moving boat," Skeemo said. Sam sighed. "I think we can assume he's a good shot. How's your ammo?" "I've got a dozen bullets." "About the same for me. Let's make each one count." Sam squeezed off a shot at Ricardo and so did Skeemo, but the boat kept coming. Then one of the employees cried out when he got shot. He fell off the raft into the water. The other one panicked and jumped in and started swimming toward the river bank. "No, you fool!" Sam said, but it was too late. The motor boat veered off in that direction and Ricardo shot the swimmer. "Just you and me left now," Sam said. |
| "What do we do?" Skeemo asked. "Now we play for keeps," Sam growled, as the boat came up nest to them. The wolf dropped his gun, pulled out his knife, and jumped into the boat, taking Ricardo by surprise, especially after Skeemo also jumped into the boat, and tackled his driver. "I got this one!" the rat yelled. "You have the other bastard." He then bit the driver in the throat. Sam grinned, as he looked at Ricardo. "You know the saying about rats, that even cornered ones will fight to the death to get to freedom." Ricardo grinned, as he also pulled out a knife. "I always did like close quarters combat. You get to know just what kind of a man you foe is, just before you kill them." Sam growled, baring his teeth, and then...... Some time later, Sam and Skeemo were driving the boat, both of them covered in blood, most of it wasn't theirs. Hanging in a net, just over the bow, like the Catch of the Day, was Ricardo's head, the head's eyes glazed over in death, his body and that of his driver had gone overboard to feed the river's many hungry fish. "Reminds me of the old story of when they brought in Blackbeard's head after the British Navy finally killed him," said Sam. "Do you think it's over?" Skeemo asked. "The ghosts of your past put to rest with his death?" "I hope so," said Sam. "I want to think about the future." "So, what do you want to do when we return to the States?" Skeemo asked. "First, I want to take a hot shower." "I hear you there." "After that, I want to meet up with Susan, and I don't want to be disturbed for at least a week." Skeemo chuckled. "I hear you there as well. Say, do you think she has a friend that I can handle?" Sam looked at the rat and grinned, the blood on his face making him look eerie. "Oh I'm sure she has a few that can handle you." "No one too big," said Skeemo. "Don't worry about that one," said Sam. "I'll set you up with a girl you can manage." "Say, do you think this guy had any more siblings?" "Damn, I hope not." |
| Skeemo had one meeting with Ronald Frump. Frump listened patiently while Skeemo gave his detailed report about their Brazilian adventure. Then Frump put the fingers of each hand together like a church steeple. "Let me see if I can boil it down to essentials," Frump said. "I had three missing employees in Brazil and a fourth employee, Warren Satchel, who was searching for them. I hired you to go down and help him find them. Now all three of them are dead and so is Warren. But it seems you are still alive." "Yes," Skeemo said. "Of course, your essentials leaves out a lot of the story." "How do you rate your job performance?" Frump asked. "Well, naturally I regret losing everybody," Skeemo said, "but Sam and I risked our lives to do it and let's not forget that a lot of other people died too." "Oh, noooo," said Frump. "Let's not forget that. A lot of other people died too. Please get out of my office, Mr. Skeemo, before I do something rash." "There is the question of our fee," Skeemo said. "Get out!" |
| "I don't think that we're going to get paid," Skeemo said, as he met up with Sam at the hotel. "Mr. Frump was a little upset that his employees got killed." "I can't say that I blame him," said Sam. "Of course, if you're short on Eating Money, I'm sure I can cover you." "What do you mean?" Skeemo asked. Sam got out his wallet, and pulled out ten bills. "That should do you." Skeemo took a look. "A thousand dollars? Where the hell did you get that money? Ricardo didn't have that much in his wallet before we tossed his body over into the river." "True, but it seems that he was worth ten million dollars, dead or alive, and given that we brought in his head, that was the proof the U.S. Embassy needed to forward the State Departments, and the Federal Departments, and all the other Departments, and tell them about the situation," Sam said. "That and a ten thousand dollar advance, due to the fact that we don't exactly have much on us at the moment." Skeemo grinned at this. "Anything else?" "Well, after letting Mr. Smitty know that he could call off the marines, I got a call from Susan," said Sam. "Said that she missed seeing me, and wants me to see her about something." "I guess she misses doing it Wolf Style." Skeemo laughed. Sam smiled. "I wouldn't mind doing that with her, if she didn't mind me doing that." "So, you going to visit any of the locals?" Skeemo asked. "No, I'm going to take a nap until we can fly out of this country," Sam said, as he walked towards the bed. "Then, after the flight back to the States, I'm going to meet up with Susan and tell Jerry to tell everyone else that Susan will be 'Unavailable' for several days, while I take care of a few things." Skeemo grinned again. "Right, take care of things." |
| Sam chuckled. "Don't worry, I know just what you need." "Not some big woman who'll turn me into a rat pancake," Skeemo muttered. "No, nothing like that." A while later, the two were at the Bread and Butter Saloon. "Place hasn't changed much," said Skeemo. "Well, at the very least, Sapphire won't have to worry much longer," said Sam. "Might want to call her." "After we get things taken care of." The two stepped inside, and walked to the counter, where they met Jerry. "Been wondering when you'd show up," said the bartender. "Susan's in room 10." "Thanks," Sam said. "Get a girl for my friend here, one who knows how to get a tired rat to relax after a hard day's work." Jerry nodded. "Will do." Sam walked up the stairs, and down the hallway. His ears caught the sounds of people experiencing their various pleasures, though, thanks to the materials used for the walls, this noise was at a relatively muted level, so as to not bother the neighbors in the midst of their own pleasures, to say nothing about the people outside. The wolf walked to the door with the number 10 on it, and opened the door. Sitting on the bed was Susan. "Did you have a nice trip?" she asked. "I can honestly say I've had better," Sam said, as he shut the door. "Good God is it good to be back. I certainly missed seeing you." Susan chuckled, as she looked the wolf over. "I'll say you have." A while later, after getting reacquainted, Sam was resting, and waiting for certain other things to relax. He gave Susan a slow and careful kiss. "What happened down there?" Susan asked, as she traced her hand along his side. "You might say I put an old ghost to rest," Sam said. "One from my past." "Heard on the news that some dangerous drug-smuggling warlord got killed by some tourists that he'd been holding captive," said Susan. "Would that have anything to it?" Sam nodded. "Yeah, it was something about Family Revenge - I killed his one brother during a drug bust, his other brother killed my wife and unborn child, I then killed that brother, and then he hunted me. Didn't turn out so good for him." "I see," said Susan. "Let's take your mind off of that then." A while later, Sam was putting his pants back on. "Sam, I need to ask you a favor," said Susan. "What's that?" "Well, my sister's getting married, and she invited me, and told me to bring a friend," Susan said. "I want you to come." "That sounds okay," said Sam. "When?" "In two days." "A little short notice, but no problem." "Just one thing - don't tell anyone that I'm a Honey Bunny." "I thought that your family was okay with it." "My mother knows, but no one else, especially my Grandmother, does," said Susan. "Whatever you do, don't tell her. She's Ultra-Conservative, and she control's the family fortune, among other things." "I see," said Sam. "In that case, I'll keep quiet about your job." |
| Jerry brought a woman over to Skeemo. "Minnie, meet Skeemo. Hope you two get along." "High!" said Minnie. Skeemo's eyes had popped. "Wait a minute. Are you dressed up like Minnie Mouse?" "You noticed?" She put out one of her big clunky shoes for him to admire. Skeemo frowned. "Just because I'm a rodent doesn't mean you have to dress like a rodent for me." "Oh please don't say 'rodent'. It sounds so scientific. I always dress this way. The spirit of Minnie Mouse lives in me." "Does it?" Skeemo said. "And I am supposed to be Micky Mouse, right?" "Oh no!" Minnie said. "Micky is my boyfriend. I'm cheating on him. With you!" "Hmmmm... kinky! OK, do you have a room we can go to?" "I sure do!" Minnie said in a very squeaky voice. |
| Roughly an hour after Skeemo accepted Minnie's offer, and two minutes after Sam had accepted Susan's invitation to be her guest at her sister's wedding, Sam was down at the counter, while Susan rested, so that she could be ready for her next client. "So, who did you give to Skeemo?" Sam asked. "I picked out Minnie for him," said Jerry. "Hmm, haven't had her before," said Sam. "What's she like?" "She likes doing threesomes, or playing the cheating girlfriend, and sometimes, she's into bondage, and tying people up." "What did you tell her about Skeemo?" Sam asked. "To take it easy on him," said Jerry. "Won't take too much for him to just zonk out by the looks of things. As it is, one moment." Sam watched him press a few keys on the computer behind the counter. "Uh hu, not even three minutes, and he fell asleep." Sam chuckled at this. "Anything else?" Jerry grinned. "Oh yeah, she's tying him up, Bounty Hunter Style. Makes you wonder a bit about what will happen when he wakes up." |
| When Skeemo woke up, he was tied up, naked, and Minnie was standing nearby, naked, with a whip in her hand. "Ready?" she said. "Ready?" said Skeemo in a quavering voice. "Ready for what?" "Remember," Minnie said. "The safe word is horse." "Horse!" "But I haven't even started yet." "Untie me!" Skeemo said. "Who told you I was into bondage?" "No one. I am the one who is into bondage. Just try it, okay?" She expertly flicked the whip so that the tip of it snapped against Skeemo's butt cheek. "Ow!" he said. "Horse! Horse!" "You're such a wuss!" |
| Sam watched as Jerry grinned from whatever he saw on his computer screen. "Anything good?" the wolf asked. "Your buddy is calling out the safe word at the first stroke," said Jerry. "Thing is, she won't stop, unless she's whipped you at least five times." Sam grinned. "Someone will be sore in the morning." "Too bad I can't show you the footage," said Jerry. Sam chuckled. "Yeah, it would probably ruin my imagination of the event." |
| Skeemo came downstairs and slid carefully onto a seat at the counter. "Good morning!" Sam said. "A night of pleasure?" "Yeah," Skeemo said in a grumpy tone. "Whoopee." "Have a coffee. Maybe it will improve your mood." "Good idea." Sam finished his own coffee. "I'm going with Susan to her sister's wedding. Want to tag along?" "No thanks. I like Susan, but I never met her sister and I don't feel like sitting on a hard wooden church pew any time soon." |
| Sam chuckled. "Your loss." "You wouldn't either if you just had your tail tanned," said Skeemo. Sam grinned. "Next time, stay awake, and maybe you'll have a better sexual experience." "Yeah, right," said Skeemo. |
| Sapphire was waiting for Skeemo at the office. "There is a lady stealing identities in Seattle. I'm going after her." "Don't let me stop you," Skeemo said. "Do you need any help? Sounds like you want to do the job yourself." "I do want to do it myself," Sapphire said. "She's a distant relative of mine. This has to be handled carefully, but I'd like to take Zzrt with me. I can use his computer skills." "That's fine with me. Let me know if you need any assistance. I'm not working on anything in particular right now." |
| Meanwhile, Sam was trying to pick out a suit for the wedding. "It would of helped if you'd let me know two weeks ago," the owner of the tux rental place in town said. "Between funerals, weddings, court cases, and sporting events, I don't have much in your size at the moment." "Got any on hold that aren't being used within the next few days?" Sam asked. |
| "I've got one," said the tux rental manager, "but I don't think you want it." "Oh?" Sam said. "I'm pretty desperate." "Do you know the mobster Tony Pitero? I'm holding it for him. Fine suit if you like pinstripes on a tux. I think it would fit you nicely." |
| "Let me take a look," said Sam. The manager had it brought out. Sam shrugged his shoulders. "Well, at least it isn't pink and purple, and it's clean. Let's see if it fits." |
| "That's a lot of padding in the shoulders," Sam said. "That's what Tony likes," said the tux man. "It looks good on you. Anyone ever tell you that you've got the face of a gangster? No offense intended." "No offense taken," Sam said. "Hmmm, I wouldn't want to embarrass Susan by making her friends think I'm a gangster." "Forget what I said. You look great in that tux." |
| Sam took a look in the Full-Body mirror. "Hmm, not bad. Yes, this will do. How much?" At this, the manager began speaking rapidly; security deposit, ironing, cleaning fees, holding charge, and so on. "Hundred dollars, including a fifty dollar security deposit." Sam looked in the mirror again, and gave the manager his card. "Alright." |
| Two days later Sam and Skeemo were having an early morning coffee at the Felcanrod office. "Isn't that wedding today?" Skeemo asked. "Yes," Sam said, "but not until later this afternoon. You're still invited if you want to go. I'm going to pick Susan up after lunch. I'm wearing a gangster tux." "A gangster tux?" "Yeah. Belongs to Tony Pitero. Let's hope he doesn't want to wear it today." |
| "One would hope not," said Skeemo. "Might ruin the wedding." "Of course, given my reputation, he might be willing to wait until he really needs it," said Sam. "Who is this Tony Pitero?" Skeemo asked. |
| "Second tier mobster, I think," Sam said. "I don't really know much about him. He keeps a low profile and his name doesn't come up often. I think he's one of those behind-the-scenes guys who likes to do everything through his underlings so he never gets his own hands dirty." "So you won't see him at the wedding," Skeemo said. "Instead some guy named Bruno will punch you in the side of the head and say it was for borrowing his boss's tux." |
| Sam chuckled. "Unlikely. Mr. Stripes likes me, and the last thing that any of the local mobsters, mafia, and gangsters want to do is make him angry." "Yeah, but he's still in prison," said Skeemo. "That doesn't stop him from controlling the business," said Sam. "Besides, as I've said, when you run organized crime, the best place to be is in prison, as that makes assassination attempts very difficult, especially with all of the security precautions the place employs." Skeemo shuddered. "I remember my visit there. Only my doctor's supposed to do some of that stuff." "Not my fault you're a suspicious looking character," said Sam. "Besides, I go through that stuff to - in fact, I told the one nurse to examine my prostate for me, to see if anything was wrong, as I'd been meaning to get it checked out. She was obliging. All good there." Skeemo groaned at this. "You would tell a nurse to do that." |
| After Sam left to attend the wedding, Skeemo decided to organize the files. Sapphire usually did it, but she was becoming more and more slack these days, often disappearing for several days without telling anyone where she was. Skeemo realized they were going to have to talk about it sooner or later. Meanwhile, he rearranged the physical files. Of course, everything was on the computer, too, but Skeemo was old school and didn't trust computers any further than he could throw them. A hard drive could crash and erase everything, but the only way a file cabinet could crash was to fall over. |
| Soon enough, Sam met up with Susan. Susan looked him over. "You know, take off a few things, and we could have some fun." "Love to do that, but then we'd be late for your sister's wedding," said Sam, as he looked Susan over. "Don't want to make any wrong impressions." |
| The organ music was playing as they walked into the little chapel. "Is this place big enough to hold everybody?" Sam whispered. "My sister just wanted close friends and family to attend," Susan said. "Oops," Sam said. "I guess I'm taking a seat that could have gone to one of her friends." "Don't be silly," Susan said. "She insisted I bring you along." |
| "Well, she did tell you to bring a friend," said Sam. "I just hope there's no issues to worry about." |
| Susan nudged Sam. "That's my grandmother over there. Don't look!" "When am I going to meet her?" Sam asked. "Or can that chore be avoided?" |
| "I'd tried to avoid it if possible," said Susan. "When my cousin Frank came out as a homosexual, she wrote to the Pope to try and get him excommunicated, and tried to get the rest of the family to denounce him as a member of the family." "I'm surprised that people still believe in that sort of stuff, let alone practice it," said Sam. "What did the Pope say?" "Pope said, 'Who am I to judge a man over his sexuality? I'll let God do that!' Makes me glad he's trying to get the Church to become more tolerant about it," said Susan. "As for kicking Frank out of the family, he's standing there by the groom, as he and the groom are best friends, and the groom lacks a brother, and my sister and I don't have any brothers, so he's standing there." Sam chuckled. "I can see your grandma isn't too happy about that." "I just hope she keeps her mouth shut," said Susan. "She doesn't tolerate Humanimal-types too well either." "Just mention to her that I'm worth fifty billion dollars, and one of the heirs to part of a very powerful shipping company, and she might be greedy enough to keep her trap shut," said Sam. "That being said, I did come into a portion of ten million dollars the other day, although after taxes, and such, that might be around eight million, give or take a few hundred thousand." "Part of the trip to South America?" Susan asked. Sam nodded. "How did it happen?" Sam looked at Susan. "Trust me when I tell you that you don't want to know. I will tell you this though, it wasn't with a gun, and it wasn't with a knife. We were too close for me to use them." Susan looked into Sam's eye, and glanced at the teeth that were visible from the scars on his face. "I see. I guess it would be difficult to explain that you used alternative means to kill the man who was trying to kill you." Sam nodded. "Borders a little close to a certain taboo." |
| The preacher droned on from "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..." through the rest of his spiel until he got to the part where he said, "If anyone here today knows a reason why this man and woman should not be joined together in Holy Matrimony then let him speak now..." where he paused and waited... |
| "Do you know of any reasons?" Sam whispered. Susan chuckled quietly. "I just wish them all the good luck in the world." "At least it isn't like she has an angry ex-boyfriend we need to worry about," said Sam. |
| "She does have an ex-boyfriend," Susan said, "but I don't think he's angry." |
| At that moment Susan's grandmother stood up and shouted, "Get thee behind me, Satan!" As everyone watched in horror, the grandmother yelled, "Oh sweet Jesus, is this the end?" and collapsed in a heap on the floor. |
| At this, Susan's eyes widened. "She must be having a heart attack!" "Call for an ambulance," Sam said, as he got out of his seat. "I'll do what I can to help her." "You know what to do, right?" Susan asked. "Can't become a police officer without knowing the basics of First Aid, and heart attacks were covered under that." |
| But as Sam approached the old lady she raised her head up and pointed at him. "The mark of the beast! Satan is among us! Oh help me, Jesus!" Everyone looked at Sam and he felt very uncomfortable. Yet, no one else was administering any aid to the woman. Should he go ahead? What if the old lady freaked out completely? |
| "Lady, you've got issues," Sam said, as he walked towards the woman. "You think that this face is that of Satan? Trust me when I tell you this; he isn't as good looking as me, and as for how I got my looks, I got them trying to protect an angel from a real monster. Now, you'd best calm down, so that maybe you'll be alive for the ambulance to pick up." |
| By then Susan had made her phone call to 911 and she came running up. "Grandma! Sam is not Satan! You're going to worry yourself to death!" "You Jezebel!" screamed the old lady. "Don't think I don't know what you're up to!" |
| "Tell me this lady forgot to take her meds," said Sam. "I've dealt with criminals who were easy compared to her." |
| Susan looked at Sam. "I don't know what to do!" "Maybe we should just leave," Sam said. Fortunately, an ambulance arrived and some paramedics started attending to the old woman. Susan and Sam just kind of drifted over to the side and watched. "I hope she's going to be okay," Susan said. "I wonder if she had a stroke." "No," said Sam. "That's not a stroke. Or a heart attack. I don't know what it is. They'll probably give her a tranquilizer and call it a fit." |
| "Well, I hope the rest of the wedding goes off without any issues," said Susan. "I hope so," said Sam. "I've yet to be at a normal wedding where something doesn't go wrong." |
| Later, after the ambulance had left and the wedding ceremony had finished without incident, Sam and Susan were walking back to the car, Susan said, "Sam, maybe we shouldn't see so much of each other." Sam said, "Whaaaat? Where did that come from? Is it because of what happened at the wedding today?" |
| Susan chuckled. "No, that's not why. And yes, I still want to see you." "That's a relief," said Sam. "Thing is, I don't want to see you at the Bread and Butter Saloon, as one of my clients," said Susan. "What do you mean?" Sam asked. "You see, I've developed feelings for you, strong feelings, and it's affecting my performance at work," said Susan. "Basically, whenever I'm with someone, the only one I see is you." "What do you mean?" Sam asked. "I think I'm in love with you." Sam widened his eye, before looking away. "And here I was thinking that you were just trying to impress me with how well you were doing." "Don't you have the same sort of feelings for me?" Sam nodded. "More than I care to admit, but the thought worries me." "Because I have sex with at least six people a day?" Susan asked. "No, because I might get killed, and leave you a widow." He turned to look at Susan. "I think I'm in love with you as well." He carefully placed his arms around her, and held her close. He then slowly, and carefully, kissed her lips. |
| "Oh, Sam," Susan murmured. "What are we going to do? I can't change my past." "I'm not asking you to," Sam said. "What you were doesn't bother me at all. I'm focused on the future and what we'll become." Susan hugged him tighter. "Do you really believe that?" |
| "One has to believe in something," Sam said. "I've buried my ghosts. I've helped you with a few of yours." |
| "Yes, you have, darling," Susan said. "And I appreciate it. Are you really so worried about getting killed? To me you seem almost indestructible." |
| Skeemo was sitting at his desk with his chair tipped back staring off into space when Sam walked in. "Hello, Sam! How was the wedding?" "Interesting. The bride's grandmother flipped out and Susan and I declared our love for each other." "Wow!" Skeemo let his chair rock forward to hit the floor with a bang. "Turned out to be more interesting than you expected, eh?" |
| Sam chuckled nervously. "Yeah, more interesting than what I thought that it would be. So, anything come in? Does a movie star need protection, or something?" |
| "Funny you should ask that," Skeemo said. "A Chinese movie star is coming to Los Angeles to receive an award and his people contacted me about providing protection." "What did you tell them?" Sam asked. "I said we weren't a security company and gave them some names to call, but the person talking to me said he still might have some business for us." "Really? I wonder what?" "I guess he'll call back if he's serious." |
| "Well, a security gig would be a nice change of pace," said Sam. "Those are usually safe jobs - just keep the paparazzi in line, and hold the crazier fans back - and they pay your hotel bill. Say, you said that it was a Chinese actor. Was it the one that goes by the stage name Jackie Li by any chance? They say he's like a mixture of Jet Li and Jackie Chan - martial-arts type that does all his own stunts, or so they say. He has some good movies." |
| The next day the Chinese contact called again. This time Sam answered the phone. "Yes, Mr. Han, we sometimes do security work. Who would be the client? Is that Jackie Li the movie star? Then yes, we would be honored to assist with security. Would you like to meet with us here at the office? Good! See you then. Good-bye." Sam hung up and turned to Skeemo. "They called back. The Chinese. I said we'd take the job." "What IS the job?" Skeemo asked. "Don't know exactly yet," Sam said. "Something about assisting with security. But a Mr. Han is going to meet with us and give us the details." |
| "Jesus," said Skeemo. "Did you have to take the job? We still have plenty of money from South America." "I want to save that for important things," said Sam. "Like a remodeling. We need to freshen the place." |
| Skeemo stared at him. "Yeah, but... neither of us speaks Chinese!" "So what?" Sam said. "Big deal. We hire a translator." "You just took this job because of that Kung Fu movie star, didn't you?" "He's not just a Kung Fu movie star, he's a martial arts expert who happens to also be a movie star." Skeemo laughed. "That's your dream job, isn't it? I smell hero worship." |
| "Well, there was a time that I did want to be a stuntman," said Sam. "Of course, getting half of my face carved off kind of put a damper on that. About the only thing I'd look good for would be the Antihero type, or a Villain, or some Tough Thug that gets dispatched by the Handsome Hero." |
| Skeemo said, "You could be the Tough Thug with a Heart of Gold, the kind who sees the moral purity of the Hero, has a change of heart, turns against the Villain, and sacrifices his life for the Hero." "How do you see yourself in this movie?" Sam asked. "I'm the Hero's Loyal Sidekick who lacks courage, but after he makes a mistake that almost gets the Hero killed, he becomes enraged and leads the charge against the Villain." |
| Sam laughed at this. "You lead the charge? The only time you'd fight is if we were cornered and there was no wait out. And I know this because that's what happened down in South America. Besides, we're not getting a part in any movie. We're just providing security." "But, how are we supposed to talk with this guy?" Skeemo asked. "When I last checked, I don't speak Chinese." "Jackie Li understands, and speaks, English," said Sam. "Wǒ míngbáile, shuōhuà, zhōngguó rén." "What?" Skeemo asked. "I said, 'And I understand, and speak, Chinese'," said Sam. "You're real good at understanding different languages," said Skeemo. "Where did you learn them?" "Mr. Smitty has a lot of friends from all over," said Sam. "Knowing how to speak their languages made things easier for him when it came to making deals, as it would appear that he respected them. As for me, well, someone had to help his mother take care of the guests, and it helped to know if the person wanted someone to pick up their dirty clothes or not." |
| "I keep discovering new things about you," Skeemo said. "What about me? Do you discover new things about me?" Sam scratched his chin for a moment. "No, I think I already know about all there is to know." "I would be offended if I didn't know it was true. But hey, I'm an open book. Anybody can read me." Sam nodded. "Too bad you never became a best seller." The phone rang and Skeemo answered it. "Uh huh. OK. Sure. That will be great. We're looking forward to meeting him." "What's up?" Sam asked. "Mr. Han is bringing Jackie Li with him to the meeting." |
| Since Mr. Han and Jackie Li bowed, Skeemo did also, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam bow. Mr. Han grinned. "I have heard that you are a very good company. I hope it is true." Skeemo smiled back. "Well, we try to be as good as we can be. I think we've got a pretty good reputation." "Here is the problem," Mr. Han said. "We think someone is trying to kill Jackie Li. And we suspect they may have infiltrated our security people to do it." "Can't you just double check any new hires you've made?" Sam asked. "No, we can't. You see, about four years ago we contracted with an independent security firm to supply security. It will be another year before we can get out of the contract without paying a penalty. We have asked to examine their personnel records but they have refused all such requests. They say they do an efficient job of checking backgrounds when they hire and there is no need for us to worry." "I'm inclined to agree with them," Sam said. "They wouldn't still be in business if they didn't check who they hired very carefully." |
| "Still, if one hates someone strong enough, they will wait years before striking," said Sam. "Been in that situation rather recently." "What happened?" asked Mr. Han. "Their desire to kill me was not as strong as my will to live," said Sam. |
| "I have a strong will to live," said Jackie Li. "But on a movie set I am focused on the job and rely on the security people. Now these worries about security threaten to destroy that focus. My work will suffer." "But what exactly do you want us to do?" Skeemo asked. "Several things," said Mr. Han. "First, investigate our security company, without their knowledge, of course, and if possible, get copies of their personnel records. Second, if you could be on set with us as much as possible. Both Jackie and I feel that the most likely time for an assassin to strike is when Jackie is doing a difficult stunt. Jackie does all his own stunts, you know. An error occurring during a stunt could be fatal to Jackie Li. Perhaps the assassin will force such an error" |
| "Well, if you are really worried about security, I suggest you take on an additional investor," said Sam. "And who would that be?" Mr. Han asked. "A Mister George Richards Stripes, also known as Johnathan Stripes, also known as a man that the local criminal underworld doesn't mess with," said Sam. "Is he some sort of security consultant?" asked Mr. Han. "Actually, he's the head of the local mob, and, more importantly, he has a lot of respect in the criminal community," said Sam. "There is nothing that any criminal can do without him knowing about it. If you want to protect your investment, you hire him on as an adviser, as it were, and he'll have his men come help out as extras, or as laborers, but in reality, they'll be providing security." "So, where is this Mr. Stripes?" Mr. Han asked. Sam chuckled. "Serving time in the penitentiary, and no one can visit him without a very thorough search of their person. Currently, he's running his organization from the safest headquarters a mob boss could have." "Do the police know this?" Mr. Han asked. "Yes, but since he doesn't pass on written messages, and uses certain codes that are hard to break, they are having a hard time proving it," said Sam. "Part of what he tells a person is a normal conversation, and part of it is code. The question is, which part is code, and which part is normal conversation. Sometimes, the person only gets part of a message, and it takes two others to get the rest." "Sounds like a clever man," said Mr. Han. "Very clever." |
| "Well, I trust you in this matter," said Mr. Han. "If you feel Mr. Stripes can be of positive assistance to us, that is good enough for me. I trust I will not have to visit the penitentiary myself?" "No," Sam said. "I shouldn't think so. We can handle that end of it. We'll need the addresses of your shooting locations and a shooting schedule." "You shall have it." |
| One trip to the penitentiary, plus a body search and a change of clothes later, Sam was sitting at a table, playing chess with Mr. Stripes. "How's life behind bars treating you?" the wolf asked, as he moved a pawn. "Can't complain," the tiger said, as he too moved a pawn. "Why are you here to see me?" "Do you know of an actor named Jackie Li?" Sam asked. Mr. Stripes looked at him. "I know of him. Born Xuan Huyan, was a prominent fighter in the martial arts since he was fifteen years old, until he became an actor at the age of twenty - eight, and took on the stage name Jackie Li. A certain person I deal with once made a bet that he'd lose a fight, and tried to get Xuan to throw the fight. However, Xuan won the fight, and thus the person sent an enforcer to try and get Xuan to pay the money this man had lost. Slight problem; the enforcer made a veiled threat about the man's family, and how they could get hurt, or worse. That enforcer was sent to the hospital with both of his arms broken, his legs were shattered, several ribs smashed, and in a coma that lasted three months. The message was simple - you didn't make threats about his family." "Any current threats?" Sam asked. "One that might be serious," said Mr. Stripes. "He's got an obsessed fan who doesn't like that he quit fighting in the ring for fighting make-believe foes." |
| Sam pondered that. "An obsessed fan. That might be relatively easy to deal with. I assume you can provide a name?" A deep chuckle rumbled from Mr. Stripes' big throat. "And I assume you can make it worth my trouble to do so?" |
| "The fact that your name being in the credits means that you would get a percentage of the film's profits," said Sam. "Jackie Li's last film grossed two billion in sales, with a profit of 1.5 billion. If this film preforms in a similar manner, you'd make at least a million on the low end, to a hundred million on the high end, and that's if your fee is one percent of the film's profits." Mr. Stripes nodded. "It's a rather interesting proposal. I could use that money for certain things." "Like convincing a judge to let you go free?" Sam asked. Mr. Stripes looked at Sam. "No, that might prove to be inconvenient in the long run. However, my son's hospital bills are rather expensive for him and his family. I think an anonymous donation might be in order - I wouldn't have to pay takes on that money, and, more importantly, he wouldn't know that the money came from me." Sam nodded. "I see. I'll talk to Mr. Han about it." |
| Several days before shooting for Jackie Li's latest film was to commence, Sam had managed to become acquainted with Jennifer, one of the secretaries from Bahama Security Ltd., the security company Mr. Han had mentioned. Fortunately, she had a taste for alcohol., so the plan was to get her drunk and use her to get access to the Bahama personnel files. Sam had intended to take her to his favorite bar, the Bread and Butter Saloon, but realized that would risk a chance meeting with Susan, so instead Sam took Jennifer to the Chicky Chick Club. It was a loud night club with a raucous floor show but that was okay with Sam. It was the kind of place where you wanted to get drunk. |
| "Been a while since I've been here," said Sam. "What do you mean?" Jennifer asked. "Work and all that," said Sam. "Had a job down in South America not too long ago. That was an experience I hope to never repeat." "Why's that?" Jennifer asked. "Came across a nutjob that killed the people I was trying to rescue." |
| "Oh, that's awful," Jennifer said. "There is way too many nuts in the world." "I agree," Sam said. "That's why I am so happy to meet a sweetheart like you. You seem to have a good head on your shoulders." "Well, I try," Jennifer said. "I'm not the smartest crayon in the box but I try to color inside the lines." "And you do a fine job of it. Another drink?" |
| After a few more drinks Jennifer was not only not the sharpest crayon in the box, she was also not the most sober crayon in the box. As Sam was driving her home, he made it a point of going past the building that housed the office of Bahama Security. "Oh, thash where I work!" Jennifer said. "No kidding," Sam said. "Looks like a nice place. What's it like inside?" "Wanna see? I have a key." Sam smiled. Sometimes it was just too easy. |
| Sam took a long look at the building and spotted a video camera nestled under the eaves. "Wait a minute," he said. He reached into the trunk of the car and took out a hat with a large floppy brim and put it on. It would keep his face in shadow. "Alright, now show me your beautiful office." Jennifer giggled. Perhaps in a few days when her boss called her on the carpet and asked her why she entered the office at 2am in the morning with a male friend... maybe then she wouldn't find it so funny. |
| In the morning, Sam came into the office with the memory stick. Skeemo was watching him. "So, anything happen?" the rat asked. "Did you do anything that would make Susan jealous?" Sam looked at his partner. "For your information, I was a gentleman, and nothing happened between us. We went to her office, and she passed out, completely drunk. I then downloaded the computer files to this memory stick, and that's basically it." "What about the girl?" Skeemo asked. "Checked out the address on her driver's license, and took her home, and put her to bed." "Did you undress her before you tucked her in?" Skeemo asked. "I took her shoes off, and that's all," said Sam. "I'm not the type that takes advantage of a woman who isn't herself, especially in that manner." |
| Skeemo plugged the memory stick into the computer. "Let's see if we can find any suspicious characters in the Bahama Security personnel files." Skeemo studied the screen intently while Sam went over to the coffee maker and started some coffee brewing. After an hour, Skeemo stretched his arms and got up to get a second cup of coffee. "I've got to hand it to Bahama Security. They do a pretty thorough job of screening their personnel." |
| "There's always one or two that slip through," said Sam. "Learned that one myself when I found out that one of my fellow officers was on the take for one of these guys in the mob." "What did you do?" Skeemo asked. "I filed an Anonymous Report, and requested that he be investigated," said Sam. "I wasn't the cowboy type then." |
| "That gives me an idea, though. Let me see if any of these Bahama Security workers ever had an anonymous report filed on them... Ah ha! Rondo Bahia. Someone claimed he was an extraterrestrial and was manipulating company personnel using advanced techniques of alien hypnotism. Wow! Easy to see why they rejected that report as a crazy prank." Sam looked thoughtful. "Hmmm... but was it?" Skeemo frowned. "You don't seriously think it was true, do you?" "Hey, read through our case files. Stranger things have happened. Remember that giant robot built by a mole man? Remember the Pokémon monsters?" "You've got a point," Skeemo said. "It's not like we always get stuck with normal events." "Is the address of Rondo Bahia in the file?" "Yep. And not all that far away from here, either." "Then what do you say we take a little drive over there and see where he lives?" |
| "You know, I do have a question for you about Susan," Skeemo said, as the two got into an unmarked car. "Just what is your relationship?" "The feelings between us are far beyond what's acceptable for a Honey Bunny and a Customer," said Sam. "What does that mean?" Skeemo asked. "Basically, you can go into the Bread and Butter Saloon, and have a session with her," said Sam. "I on the other hand cannot." "You mean, you can't go into the place?" Skeemo asked. "I can go there, and see the other girls, but I can't see her," said Sam. "After hours though, now that is different." |
| Rondo Bahia lived in a middle range apartment complex. It looked ordinary enough. "Maybe too ordinary," Sam said. "What do you mean?" asked Skeemo. "It's exactly the kind of place you would pick to live in if you didn't want to draw any attention to yourself." "Should we talk to his neighbors?" "No, not now. It might alert him we were checking on him. Besides, I feel sure his neighbors will just say he's an ordinary guy, nothing unusual about him." "Well," Skeemo said. "Maybe he is an ordinary guy." "Maybe," Sam said, "but in my experience every guy has at least one thing unusual about him. The completely ordinary person arouses my suspicions." |
| "Well, if he's not an alien, what could he be?" Skeemo asked. "Could be in Witness Protection," said Sam. |
| "Any way we can check that?" Skeemo asked. "Do you have any contacts in the government that would tell us whether he was or not?" |
| "That would be the US Marshals' job, and I lack the clout to get them to tell me that information," said Sam. "Never tangled with them much either. That being said, I know a guy who might, as he was on their Short List of Potential Recruits, before I left the Boston Police Department, and I didn't see him during that pig incident." |
| After more effort than they thought it would take, Sam and Skeemo finally located the guy and he promised to call them as soon as he found out whether the mysterious Rondo Bahia was on a witness protection list. "You know what we could do..." Skeemo suggested. "Don't say it," Sam said. "You want to break into Bahia's apartment while he's not there and search it." "Half right," Skeemo said, "but not break in. There is plenty of ways in, like pretending to be the bug exterminator." |
| By the next afternoon they had found not only uniforms, but a used truck once owned by an exterminator. As they were traveling to Rondo Bahia's apartment, the call came from Sam's contact that Rondo's name was not on any witness protection list. "I hope he's not home," Skeemo said. "I hope he is," said Sam. "We need to get a good look at him. I've got a sixth sense about detecting aliens." |
| They got a key from the apartment manager and entered Rondo Bahia's apartment. It looked ordinary enough. No obvious signs indicating he was an alien. He seemed like an ordinary guy. "Does your sixth sense tell you anything?" Skeemo asked. "Nope," said Sam. "But I still get the feeling that this guy is just too ordinary. Did you notice the bathroom?" "Yeah. What about it?" "Name brand products, all of them partially used. No discount cheap stuff. No new, full, unused containers. You know what I think? If we came back here a month from now that bathroom would look exactly the way it does today." "What do you mean? That it's just for show? Kind of like a stage set or a diorama? You think aliens never have to use a bathroom?" |
| "We have an alien on our Associates List," said Sam. "If you really want to know, ask him." "Alright," said Skeemo. "So, what do you think?" Sam looked at a high shelf, and noticed a lack of dust on it. "I'd say he's got a maid, or he's an obsessive cleaner." "Why do you say that?" said Skeemo. "This shelf is very clean," said Sam. "Most bachelors don't really get into dusting their homes often." He then looked at another shelf at a similar height. "Yeah, either he has a maid, or he likes to clean a lot." "So, what do you suggest?" Skeemo asked. "We should leave before we have company," said Sam. "A maid would ask for identification, and call her boss to see if he'd had an appointment with us, and he would know for sure he wasn't expecting us. Also, I have a rather recognizable face." "What do you mean?" Skeemo asked. Sam pointed at his scars. "There can't be too many wolves with only half a face. If the apartment manager talks to him, or his neighbors do, and he sees me later on, he might put two and two together." "So, what do you suggest?" Skeemo asked. "We go back to the office, change back into our regular clothes, and then you come back here and wait for him, and then talk to him," said Sam. "As for me, I'm going to the Bread and Butter, and see whom Susan would recommend that I try instead of her." |
| Skeemo held up his hand. "Listen!" he whispered. From the living room came the unmistakable sound of someone turning a key in the lock. Sam pushed Skeemo into action. "Put everything like we found it and grab your exterminator equipment!" Rondo Bahia entered his living room and stopped short at the sight of the two exterminators. He didn't seem frightened or even very surprised and he was a very ordinary looking guy. "Oh, is today the day to spray?" he asked. "Yes," Skeemo said. "We were just finishing. Sorry if we alarmed you." "No problem," said Rondo. "I haven't seen any bugs around." "You keep your apartment very clean," Sam said. "I like it that way," Rondo said. "Less chance of picking up any bad germs, you know?" "Couldn't agree more," Sam said. "Well, we'll be on our way now. Have a good day." "You, too," Rondo said as he closed the door behind them. On the way back to their rented bug truck, Skeemo said, "Do you think he bought it?" "I couldn't tell," Sam said. "But I'm 90% sure now that he's an alien." "How so?" "That whole bit about germs and keeping everything so clean. Germs are something an alien would have a lot of fear about, especially picking up some earth virus or bacteria that he wasn't immune to." |
| "Can't they take booster shots or something?" asked Skeemo. "Might be tricky," said Sam. "Most immunity shots contain a weakened version of whatever virus or bacteria you're trying to protect yourself from. Some could prove just as deadly as the real thing." "So, do you think he's the threat we're to keep an eye out for?" Skeemo asked. "There's a chance he just might be someone trying to lay low," said Sam. "After all, it's not against the law to be an alien from another planet." |
| Skeemo rubbed his chin. "There is still that anonymous report someone filed claiming Rondo Bahia was an extraterrestrial who was manipulating the management of Bahama Security with hypnotism techniques." Sam nodded. "Then I suggest we ask the Bahama management if they know him." "Of course they know him," Skeemo said. "He's an employee there." "But it will still be enlightening to see how they respond to my question, want it? What if they claimed they did not know him?" "That would be an eye-opener," Skeemo agreed. "So we bring up his name and watch them closely for any body language that might reveal something?" "Yeah, and let's take some hidden camera video, if possible, so we can study it later." "Then we better question them at our office. It will be easier to set up the video there." |
| "Yes, but let's leave that for tomorrow," said Sam. "Right now I want to put on something casual, and visit the Bread and Butter Saloon." "Think you can find someone to take care of your needs?" Skeemo asked. "Either there, or I could wait until later, and see Susan." |
| "Alright," Skeemo said. "Have a good time. I'll see you in the office tomorrow. I'm going to make a call to Bahama Security before it gets too late and see if I can get some of their management team to come to the office tomorrow." |
| Sam got ready, and went to the Bread and Butter. "Looking for Susan?" Jerry asked. Sam chuckled at this. "Not exactly." "She told me not to send you to her anymore," said Jerry. "Said that things were complicated between the two of you." "That is would be," said Sam. "We're in love with each other, and you know how that works." Jerry nodded. "I've heard." "So, got anyone you'd recommend?" Sam asked. "I've got plenty." |
| Jerry tossed three photos on the table. "Gladys, Piper, and Mahalia." Sam looked at the photos. "Hmmm, not your usual women." "All new," Jerry said. "Thought I'd show them to you if you aren't interested in any of the regulars. Now Gladys is kind of old, but well-preserved." "I don't know how I feel about motherly types," Sam said. "Believe me, she does things your mother never dreamed of. Piper, on the other hand, is young and inexperienced if that appeals to you. And then we have Mahalia, a former gospel singer. They say she can take you to heaven." Sam raised an eyebrow. "What does she do? Murder you in your sleep?" |
| "No, but the customers say she's real good, if you know what I mean," said Jerry. "Have you tried her yourself?" Sam asked. Jerry chuckled. "I don't sample my own. Complicates things." "Alright," said Sam. "I think I'll pay a visit to this Piper, and see why she's become a Honey Bunny." "Are you going to try and talk her out of it?" Jerry asked. "I don't like losing employees." "Yeah, but better for her to quit now, while she isn't doing anything, as opposed to quitting while with a paying customer," said Sam. "After all, a customer would want his money back. This way, you don't suffer any real loss. Of course, if she honestly wants to be a Honey Bunny, I'm not going to force her out of it, but if someone's just taking her money, and spending it on booze and drugs, and degrading her by forcing her into this, she might not make a good Honey Bunny anyways." Jerry nodded. "I know how them types work. I only want employees, who know what they are dealing with, and don't mind it, working for me. I don't want someone in a desperate situation here." "Let's hope she's here of her own free will," said Sam. "Been a while since I've had a virgin." "You will be gentle to her of course?" Jerry asked. "Aren't I always?" Sam asked. Jerry chuckled. "You have me there." |
| Meanwhile, Skeemo had managed to get the head of the Bahama Security personnel department, Jarvis Winterhunter, on the phone, so just on a whim he decide to throw out the name of Rondo Bahia and see what happened. "Never heard of him," Jarvis said. "Doesn't he work there?" Skeemo asked. "Nope." "But you didn't even bother to check your personnel roster." "Don't need to," Jarvis said. "We've got less than 50 employees and I know them all personally. There is no Rondo Bahia working here." "OK, sorry to bother you then." "No problem," Jarvis said, and hung up. Skeemo opened up the folder containing the contents of the Bahama Security data they had stolen on the memory stick. Yes, there it was. Rondo Bahia. The name Jarvis Winterhunter denied knowing. "Curious," Skeemo muttered. |
| Meanwhile, Sam was waiting for Piper, when he heard Susan's voice in the hall. Based on the sounds he could hear, the woman was heading to a room with a client. Sam sighed as he heard them. His feelings for her were conflicted. |
| There was a timid knock on the door of the small room. Sam opened it. Piper stood there trying to look self-confident. "Come in," Sam said. |
| Sam looked the woman over. She was human, twenty years old, if that, and somewhat nervous. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. "You don't have to, if you don't want to." |
| "But I won't get paid if I don't do it," she said. "Don't worry," Sam assured her. "I'll make sure you still get paid. I just want to find out more about you. How did you get into this? Was it your own idea?" |
| "Why do you want to know that?" Piper asked. "Are you some sort of Missionary who has taken a Vow of Chastity of some sort?" Sam laughed at this. "I'm probably the furthest from a missionary you can get without going on the other side of the law. I'm a bounty hunter by trade, and I'll be honest, I enjoy having a good woman." "Still, why do you want to know all that sort of stuff?" Piper asked. "I mean, why do you want to know if I want to do this?" "Part of it has to do with the fact that you seem to be a little young," said Sam. "Now, I know Jerry; he doesn't like abusive customers, so you don't have to worry about those too much, but he doesn't like it when someone is being forced to work for him." "What do you mean?" Piper asked. "If you're here of your own free will, and you don't mind having sex with at least a half dozen men, or women, a day, I have no problems," said Sam. "My problem is if there's someone out there, forcing you to work here, and taking your money, leaving you with no say in the matter." |
| "It's because you thought I was shy, didn't you?" she said. "Well, you do seem young and innocent," Sam said. Piper laughed a laughed that didn't sound so innocent. "Oh, I am so good. It's all an act. There are men who get excited if they think they're screwing a virgin. You know what I mean?" Sam smiled. "I think so." "So I have perfected the young innocent girl bit. It works quite well. Fooled you, didn't it?" "It did," Sam said. "I even fooled Jerry. He thinks I'm fresh off the farm. I'm actually 25, but I have this young-looking face." "25 is still young," Sam said. "Maybe to an old geezer like you," Piper said, "but some of these guys want to think they are screwing teenagers. Maybe they wish they were back in school, eh?" "I'm not a geezer," Sam said. He found he was warming up to Piper and thinking she might be a lot more fun than he thought she would be when he first met her. |
| An hour later, Sam walked down the stairs, and saw Jerry sitting behind the counter, chuckling. "Found something amusing?" Sam asked, as he came up to the man. Jerry grinned. "You might say so. I'll have to have a talk with that woman when she gets off shift - I don't mind setting up an act for clients, but it isn't often that someone fools me like that. I'll have to edit her file a bit." Sam looked over the counter, to take a look at the Security TV Jerry kept in the corner. At the angle he was looking at it from though, he couldn't make things out, which secured the privacy of the clients in with Jerry's girls. "Did you see anything good?" Jerry gave Sam a wink. "That I did. She's not as inexperienced as she told me." Sam chuckled. "She's pretty damn good at what she does." |
| When Sam got back to the office, Skeemo told him about his phone call to Bahama Security. "So the guy denied ever hearing about someone called Rondo Bahia," Sam said. "And yet, we have a copy of the Bahama Security personnel records and there he is." "Peculiar, isn't it?" Skeemo said. "Yes. The question is what do we do now?" "What if we followed Rondo Bahia to work and went in after him?" "That might be interesting," Sam said. "I wonder if everyone at Bahama Security would pretend that Rondo doesn't exist?" "Haha! I'd like to see that. But seriously, maybe they are hypnotized or something and really can't see him?" "That sounds too close to being magic," Sam said. "You know what Isaac Asimov said, The technology of a highly advanced people might seem like magic to a less advanced people." "The only think that bothers me is why would an alien from an advanced civilization care anything at all about a Kung Fu movie star?" "Yeah," Skeemo said. "That's a tough one. Maybe he wants to kidnapl Jackie Li and take him back to his planet to make Kung Fu movies?" |
| Sam chuckled at this. "Interesting theory. Let's just hope he's just a fan." |
| Skeemo called Mr. Han. "You were right about Bahama Security. There is definitely something fishy going on. Whether it involves an assassination attempt on Jackie Li is something we cannot yet determine. All we know is that the behavior of the Bahama Security company is questionable. I'll email a detailed report to you. What? Yes, I know we promised to be on the set when Jacki Li was doing stunts. Where is the shoot? Tomorrow? OK, we will be there." |
| "So, we'll be on the set tomorrow," said Sam. "That will be interesting." "Say, do you think we could get a part?" Skeemo asked. "I'd like to be the guy's sidekick." "Don't get your hopes up that high," said Sam. "I'd settle for being some Mook that gets his face kicked in." "Well, your face does look like it was kicked in," said Skeemo. Sam grinned. "I know." |
| The director quickly agreed to give Sam a part as soon as he saw the bedraggled wolf's face and heard about his martial arts experience. He would be one of the bad guy's gang. About Skeemo he was more skeptical, but gave him a part as an extra in a crowd scene so he would also have an excuse to be on the set. Skeemo and Sam took their places, discretely scanning everyone with that penetrating stare that only an experienced investigator has. They kept in touch by texting on their cell phones. |
| Sam was busy rehearsing his scene with Li, and listening to both the stunt coordinator, and the fight coordinator, so that the various punches, kicks, blows, and various other maneuvers, looked not only realistic, and effective, but were actually safe, and either didn't actually harm the person, or didn't touch them. After a while, Sam was beginning to feel some minor exhaustion. "Is it always like this?" he asked, panting slightly, as he sat down for a break. Li wiped his forehead. "It's harder to fake a fight than it is to actually fight," the actor said. "When you're fighting, you've got adrenaline to aid you. With this, it's mostly about your own willpower, and fitness, as well as concentration. One miss-timed blow, and you could take out someone's teeth by accident." "Well, from what I can see, you're good," said Sam. "Makes me wonder about what my odds would be in the ring." "Tell me about this backer you suggested Mr. Han to take on, this Mr. Stripes," said Li. "He's a decent enough fellow, for someone who runs a Mob," said Sam. "Fairly reasonable, and is smart enough to know that dead people can't pay back what they owe." "What do you mean?" Li asked. "Let's say you own a jewelry store, and you couldn't get a lone from a bank, so you borrowed from Mr. Stripes, but now you can't pay him back," said Sam. "Typical Mob tactic might be to kill you, and toss you into some fresh cement for a new building. His tactic, he'll use favors to get what he wants from you. Since you own a jewelry store, let's say one of his henchmen is getting married, and needs a ring; he'll call you ahead of time, and when the henchman comes in with the bride-to-be, once they pick out the one they want, you are to say, 'No charge for the lovely lady.' The price of the ring will be deducted from what you owe." "Hmm, interesting," said Li. |
| "But I wouldn't think you would ever have money problems. From what I read in the movie news, you're very rich." Jackie Li grinned. "Yes, the movie business has been very good to me." "Just got a text from my partner," Sam said, looking at his phone. "Rondo Bahia is on the set. Did you know the Bahama Security people claimed to have never heard of him?" "Nor have I," said Jackie Li. Sam pointed him out. "That's him." "No. I do not recall ever seeing him before." Sam texted Skeemo. "Jacke Li says he doesn't know Rondo." Skeemo's text read; "This is too strange. Keep a close eye on Rondo." |
| Skeemo didn't have to watch Rondo very closely because Rondo walked right up to him. "Hello, Skeemo. Could I have a private word with you and Sam?" "You know who we are?" Skeemo said. "Felcanrod? I sure do. We're in the same business." Skeemo texted Sam to meet him behind the movie set. "I'm a bounty hunter just like you guys," said Rondo. "That's why I'm letting you in on what I'm up to." "But I was right that you're an extraterrestrial, wasn't I?" said Sam. Rondo grinned. "Yes, good deduction, but you missed the fact that Jackie Li is also an alien." Skeemo nodded. "That might explain his phenomenal abilities at martial arts." Rondo continued. "Jackie and I are both from the planet your astronomers call Alnair 3. I don't suppose you've heard of it?" "Not really." "Simple fact is that I'm a bounty hunter and Jackie Li is a criminal. I'm here to capture him and return him to the Alnairian system. And no, we don't look like humans in our natural state but we're very good at bioengineering." Skeemo frowned. "If what you say is true__" "You don't believe me?" Rondo asked. "I can show you my spaceship." "That's alright," Skeemo said. "Let's just assume you are what you say you are, then what's the problem? Why haven't you already taken Jackie Li away?" "Ah!" said Rondo. "Mainly because I screwed up by wanting to do it the right way. I should have just snatched him and left, but we're supposed to do it in a way that leaves no disturbance behind. My plan was to fake his death in a movie stunt and then switch a dummy corpse for him. But then you guys came into the picture." "You're blaming us?" Skeemo said. "Yes. I had everybody at Bahama Security hypnotized into not even noticing me, but then you show up with all your questions." Sam held up his hand. "But it was because of Jackie's manager, Mr Han, that we got involved." "Han was suspicious," Rondo agreed, "but he didn't know about me and he would have bought the story about Jackie Li dying while doing one of his own stunts." "Well," Skeemo said. "We're sorry we screwed things up for you." "It's not too late," Rondo said. "Actually, this may help because you can reinforce my version of events. I'll go ahead and fake Jackie Li's death and get him off planet leaving a substitute corpse here to be buried. All you guys have to do is never tell anyone what I just told you and smooth over anyone's suspicions." "I think we better see that spaceship first," Sam said. "Either you are the alien you say you are or else you are one of the best con men I ever met." |
| "There's a few things you might want to know if you are a bounty hunter after him," said Sam. "He's got a wife and two kids, who probably don't know about his background, if he really is some kind of criminal." "That is a slight difficulty," said Rondo. "I'd have to get a hold of Immigration where the offspring are concerned. There are certain rules against impregnating alien races." "What?" asked Sam. "Cross-breeding with aliens is against our laws." "I hope you don't try taking the kids," said Sam. "That is against our laws, and is a sure way to get everyone against you, regardless of legalities." "What do you mean?" Rando asked. "A cop who accidentally kills a kid gets condemned by our society," said Sam. "Average person wouldn't even talk to him, and that's when it was an accident. Do it on purpose, you practically get a mob waving pitchforks and torches crying out for your blood." |
| "I'm not interested in the kids," Rondo said. "Or his wife. Remember, as far as they are concerned Jackie Li will be dead. That will be hard on them, but not nearly as hard as being told their father is an alien and showing them what he looks like when he isn't disguised as an earth human." "I hear that," Skeemo said. "Am I to assume you Alnarians look pretty awful in your natural state?" Rondo laughed. "To you. Not to each other. Ready to see my spaceship?" "What? Here?" "Look up." Above them a huge dark object seemed to materialize in the sky. It gently floated down until it was only a few feet above them. Then it vanished again. "Wow!" Skeemo said. "That's one hell of a magic trick." "Our ships are mentally controlled and capable of rendering themselves completely invisible." "Even to radar?" Skeemo said. "There are types of rays that can detect our ships, but your science doesn't know about them yet." "I'm convinced," Skeemo said. "We'll help you abduct Jackie Li." |
| "I'm still against it," said Sam. "There are certain rules that have to be obeyed, and one of them is this - the only way a criminal from one country, who is currently in another, can be sent back to their original, is if there is an extradition agreement between the two countries, and even then, certain countries are only going to make the exchange if certain provisions are met. As it is, Jackie Li is a Chinese citizen, as far as they are concerned, and is a celebrity to them. The only way you can get them to extradite one of their citizens is if they committed a very serious crime, like rape or murder, and even then, most of the time they'd try the case themselves, and punish him personally." "Hence why I wanted to do my plan," said Rondo. "Less fuss that way." "Yes, but me and Skeemo have rules that we have to follow," said Sam. "Failure to follow the rules results in our hunting licences being yanked by the game warden, as it were. Helping you in this case is akin to kidnapping, and that's a quick way to loose our Bounty Hunting Permits, which are not easy to get back once lost. In fact, here's a good question; what crime did he allegedly commit? Also, how do you punish those kinds of criminals? Also, and I have to remind Skeemo of this, we made a deal to protect Jackie Li from those who would do him harm - meaning that he's to be executed for whatever it is he did, it's our job to prevent you from taking him." "You're saying you'd go up against the Alnarian judicial system over a trivial matter?" Rondo asked. "As far as I know, there isn't an Extradition Agreement with your planet, meaning you can't take him," said Sam. "I could talk to my one uncle," said Rondo. "He's a Head Commander in the Alnarian Military, and get him to invade this backwater planet." "And piss off ten billion people for no reason?" Sam asked. "You'd start a war over one criminal?" "Yes." "Why don't you tell us what he did, and we'll determine if it's even worth it," said Sam. "And it had better be something important." |
| Rondo Bahia looked at Sam and thought for a moment. "Jackie Li, as you call him, has committed many crimes. How about if I start with the most recent and work backwards? Impersonating a member of another species. Traveling to another planet without a permit. Stealing a spaceship. Skipping bail. Posting bail with funds that were obtained by fraud. Possession of counterfeit ID cards. Embezzlement. Many counts of fraud. And I could go on." "That's quite a list," Skeemo said. "I notice you didn't include murder. Has he ever killed anyone?" "No," said Rondo, "and if you are thinking he will be executed you would be quite wrong. That isn't the way Alnarian justice works. His mind will be... I suppose you would call it re-programmed. There isn't really a word for it in your language, but it will remove his criminal tendencies and make him a good citizen again." "How did he acquire criminal tendencies in the first place?" "That's a mystery which we will be investigating. We don't know why, but a small percentage of the Alnarian population goes through a personality change at some point in their lives. He was one of them. Maybe we will learn something from his case." |
| "So, basically, we're dealing with a con-man who likes the limelight," said Sam. "I suppose you could say that," said Rondo. "Well, in that case, he's in his changing room," said Sam. "We'll go in there, you identify yourself to him, and we'll see what happens." |
| "Hello, Jackie Li," said Rondo Bahia. "Or perhaps I should say hello, N'garth Zyll?" Jackie Li gasped. "You're from Alnair?" "That's right. Your vacation is over. Time to go home and face the music." Jackie Li looked at Sam and Skeemo. "I thought I hired you guys to protect me, not rat me out." |
| "Correction; we were hired to protect a movie star, not an intergalactic criminal," said Sam. "Still, I'm sure an arrangement could be made." "What do you mean?" Rondo asked. "Well, his movies are popular here on this planet," said Sam. "Perhaps if you were to destroy his ship, and strand him here, as punishment for his crimes, he'd be free to make his movies, while at the same time, be unable to do anything to your planet." |
| "Wait a minute," said Jackie Li. "I never said I want to spend the rest of my life on this backwater planet." "Then it would be a fitting sentence," said Rondo Bahia. "Unfortunately, Mister Sam, I am not at liberty to destroy his ship. That would be a crime in my culture. Of course, if some Earthlings happened to destroy it..." |
| "Or you could disable it by removing the starting piston, or its equivalent, among other things that would be hard to replicate," said Sam. |
| "True," said Rondo, "but you forget that Jackie Li is a clever alien. He would quite possibly find a way to duplicate the part. However, it does not matter since the ship is stolen and must now be returned to its rightful owner. Say good-bye to your new friends, N'garth Zyll. Soon Jackie Li will be dead." "You're taking him right now?" Skeemo asked. "Yes, I see no reason for any delay. It is not necessary for him to pack any bags." "What about your plan to make it look like Jackie Li died in a movie accident?" "Don't worry. I have already set that in motion. Needless to say, when you get back to the set don't trust what your eyes see." Rondo Bahia shook Skeemo's hand and said, "Good-bye and thank you for your help." He shook Sam's hand. "Good-bye, Sam. You're one tough cookie. Is that the correct phrase?" "Only if we were in a 1940's gangster movie," Sam said. "But good-bye." Both Rondo Bahia and Jackie Li disappeared into thin air causing Skeemo to blink his eyes. "Did I just have a hallucination?" Sam shrugged. "I think we just came into contact with a very advanced civilization. Come on, I want to see what's happening on the set." They could hear the wail of a siren in the distance. "Where were you two?" asked Mr. Han. "Jackie Li has suffered a terrible accident. I'm afraid he might be dead." Sam and Skeemo exchanged looks with each other. Skeemo said, "Uh... I think we were in the Twilight Zone." The next day both Sam and Skeemo got to the office late in the morning. Sapphire had already left for an extended winter vacation. "She's got the right idea," Skeemo said. "Let's close up this place and take a few weeks off. That last case took a lot out of me and we don't have anything urgent on the books right now." |
| First Monday of the new year and Sam and Skeemo meet again at the office. "I wish that vacation could have gone on forever!" Skeemo said. "How about you, Sam? Did you enjoy the holidays?" |
| Sam chuckled. "I'll say so." "Get anything good?" Skeemo asked. "Visited my parents, and Mr. Smitty," said Sam. "That man still wants us to hire that team of mercenaries he has on retainer." "Well, you are his heir, one of them anyways," said Skeemo. "I brought Susan along," said Sam. "My folks seem to like her, as does my sister, along with Mr. Smitty. His wife on the other hand, well, she doesn't like me anyways." "So, get anything good?" Skeemo asked. "Some of the basics; clothes, some nice new weapons I can't wait to use, a hundred thousand dollars deposited into my bank account." "You got a hundred grand as a Christmas present?" Sam grinned. "You should of seen what I got Susan." "What was that?" Skeemo asked. "20 carat diamond ring, and I mean a cut natural one, done in a brilliant cut, and studded with a number of smaller ones around it." "How did she like that?" Skeemo asked. "Let me put it to you like this," said Sam. "She said 'Yes!'" "You're kidding me. You got engaged?" Sam nodded. "Oh boy." |
| "Congratulations!" Skeemo said with a grin. "We might see some Little Sams around here one day." Then his face fell. "Uh... what about Felcanrod? Are you going to stay with it?" |
| Sam grinned. "Which part of, 'I got some new weapons I'd like to try out' did you not hear?" |
| "Let's take a look at those new weapons," Skeemo said. "How far out of town do we need to go to give them a test run?" |
| "Not that far," said Sam. "They're also the Less-Lethal types as well." "What do you mean?" Skeemo asked. Sam removed a box from his coat, placed it on the table, and opened it. Skeemo looked at the contents, and then looked at Sam. "Paintballs?" "They have something added to them," said Sam. "Ever smelled skunk spray?" "There was that time when I was at a frat party and someone let one really rip," said Skeemo. "Stank beyond belief." "This is filled with chemicals similar to that," said Sam. "Get hit by this thing, and you'll be taking a bath for a week, and, thanks to some capsicum liquid, you'll be blowing out your nose for at least as long." "Don't pop that thing in here then," said Skeemo. "What else do you have?" "A Single-Direction Sound-Projector," said Sam. "Only the target hears it. Set it on the right volume, and he'll be begging for you to turn it off." "What can you play?" Skeemo asked. "Anything, including a certain sound that is very painful." |
| "Cool," Skeemo said. "You know what sound I hate to hear? A dentist drill. Do you have any nets or traps? I remember once reading about a gun that will shoot out a sticky web or net, kind of like a spider does, I guess, and when this web lands on the victim he is unable to move. I wish we had something like that." |
| "I'll put that in my wish list for next year," said Sam. It was at that moment, that the door opened, and several large polar bears, in suits, entered. "Sorry boys, we're not open for business at the moment," said Skeemo. "Come back in two hours." "Door open," the one bear said, in a thick Russian accent. "We talk now." "And I said that we aren't open," said Skeemo. At this, the bear bear grabbed Skeemo by the collar, and pulled out a modified Makarov pistol. "We talk now." The bear heard something, turned his head, and found a Magnum revolver in Sam's hand. "Big gun don't scare me," the bear said. "Your friend is shielding part of my head. Good chance you hit him." Sam grinned. "You're right." He then sprang to his feet, and shoved the barrel at the bear's throat. "This one has a hundred percent chance of hitting you." The bear grinned. "Yes, but now comrades have good chance to kill you." Sam carefully looked at the other polar bears, and noticed that each of them had a weapon trained on him. He then lowered his weapon. "Let my friend go, and then we'll talk." The bear grinned. "It not us that want to talk. It our boss." The bear let go of Skeemo, and holstered his weapon, as did the others. At this, the doors opened, and in stepped a shrew, who was barely four foot tall. "I trust that my associates haven't caused you much trouble," the shrew said, in an Italian accent. "Not really," said Sam, as he looked the shrew over. "What do you want?" "My friends call me Padre Grande, for I am like a father to his children, and I have a large influence in the community." The shrew snapped his finger, and one of the bears ran out the door, and came back in with a chair. The shrew sat in it, and the bear pushed it up to the desk that Sam and Skeemo had been standing behind. "Please sit, I hate having to look up at those I wish to talk to, unless they are people I trust." A couple of bears ran around the desk, and got Sam and Skeemo their own chairs. "This is embarrassing," Skeemo muttered. "This is our place of business, and here some thug is telling us what to-" At this, a bear grabbed Skeemo's shoulder, and growled. "Seirgi," said the shrew. The bear stopped growling, and released Skeemo 's shoulder. "My associates don't like it when they think that someone is insulting me." Sam looked at the shrew. "What do you want?" "Merely for you to stay out of the way, until my business with a Mr. Stripes, who happens to be a friend of yours, is concluded," said the shrew. "I don't like innocents getting hurt." Sam narrowed his eye. "Turf War?" "Something like that," the shrew said. "Now-" Suddenly, a ringing was heard. "One moment." The shrew reached into his pocket, and pulled out a cellphone. "Maria! Ho dimenticato!" He then opened the phone, and then began chattering rapidly in Italian. He then placed a hand on the receiving end. "Do any of you know where I can get fresh flowers real quickly, and in large numbers? It's my daughter's wedding!" "Flora's Shop on 7th," said Sam. "Grazie." The shrew looked at his associates. "Let's go, now!" "Yes," the bears said, as one began pulling the shrew's chair. "We'll talk later," the shrew said, just has he and his bears left the office. "That was strange," said Skeemo. |
| "Not if you know Mr. Stripes," Sam said. "He's been fighting turf wars all his life. They ought to make a computer game called Turf Wars and let him be a consultant on its design." "I don't see why that shrew had to bully us," Skeemo said. "I think that was more aimed at me than you," Sam said. "You know how often Mr. Stripes and myself exchange info and more." "So I guess we better call Stripes and tell him what happened then, eh?" |
| It was at that moment that Sam's cellphone rang. Sam pulled it out, and looked at the number. "I think this is him." He flipped it open, and got a disclaimer from the Prison System that the call was being recorded, and would be used as evidence in the case of a criminal investigation. He accepted it, and soon heard Mr. Stripes' voice. "Morning, Samuel," the tiger said. "I trust that you enjoyed yourself during the Holidays." "I did," said Sam. "What's this about?" "You might wish to avoid Casino Street for a while," said Mr. Stripes. "The ownership of several of the properties along there are in question, and there are several businessmen that wish to buy up said properties. I would appreciate it if you and your friends didn't get involved." "I got that part of message from one of the other buyers," said Sam. "Someone called Padre Grande." "Be careful," said Mr. Stripes. "It is unwise to tangle with a shrew. Their bites are very deadly." He then hung up. Sam closed his phone. "Seems that Mr. Stripes and Padre Grande are trying to expand the money laundering capabilities of their respective organizations, and both want the same property along Casino Street." "I see, exchanging stolen/drug money for that of the money from the tourists that come through," said Skeemo. "Do you think there will be any big shootouts?" "This isn't the Wild West," said Sam. "There will probably be some poisonings, some stabbings, and other more quiet means of murder. After all, no one wants to scare away the tourists with widescale violence." |
| "Speaking of tourists," Sam said, "I got an interesting call from a visitor to our fair city. He wanted to know if I would be interested in making a quick one million dollars for a few hours work." "Probably a scam," Sam said. "What was the work?" "He wouldn't say." "Definitely a scam." "But a million dollars," Skeemo said. "Could it hurt to at least hear his proposition?" |
| "We'll listen, and then walk away, without agreeing to anything, or accepting anything," said Sam. "Safer that way." |
| "I just had a thought," Skeemo said. "What if it's the shrew trying to set me up for a fall?" "So don't go," Sam said. "Still... a million dollars. A shame to lose out if it's for real." "So go." "But..." "Flip a coin if you have to!" |
| "I was hoping you would say that," Skeemo said. "I'm supposed to meet him at the Bellagio at 3 o'clock." "It's past noon now," said Sam. "I know. Let's go see what a million dollars wants." ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| "Just remember this," said Sam. "If it has anything to due with protecting the casinos in the area, we need to stay out of it." "Why is that?" Skeemo asked. "I'm not in the mood to get on the wrong side of a mob boss, unless I absolutely have to," said Sam. "Besides, I've broke bread with Mr. Stripes often enough, he'd consider me an ally in any other situation. However, given that this has to deal with his criminal enterprise, he's willing to respect the fact that I don't want to get involved with criminals, aside from hunting them down when there's a price on their heads, and not ask us for help, and told us to stay on the sidelines." "What about Padre Grande?" Skeemo asked. "With our reputation, we were a factor he had to consider," said Sam. "He didn't want us for an enemy, even if we weren't exactly on Mr. Stripes' side, as it were, but he still had to cover his back. No one wants to fight a war on two fronts, especially if there's a chance that his enemies become allies, by virtue of having a common enemy, and since we have a stable relationship with Mr. Stripe, he was worried we'd join the tiger. So, the shrew decided to play his hand, and say that he had a full house - 3 kings, and 2 queens, as it were - and that he had a good chance of beating us." "So, what do we do about him?" Skeemo asked. "We call up the other local bounty hunters, and tell them to keep on their toes," said Sam. "None of them need to get drawn into a crime war." |
| [NOTE: From this point on will be transferred to Felcanrod 4] When Sam and Skeemo got to the Bellagio they were escorted to a special-made custom room. "It's equipped with a huge fish tank!" Skeemo said. "How odd." "Not so odd," came a voice from the tank and a large fish man lifted his head above the water. "I don't like it when my skin dries out. You must be Sam and Skeemo. I am Scales McCoy, the CEO of Kelp Incorporated. Where is your third partner?" "On an extended vacation," Skeemo said. "Is it essential she be here?" "I suppose I can discuss this with just you and Sam. By the way, I understand that you are a friend of Mr. Stripes, Sam. Is that correct? Would I be correct to assum that you are not above engaging in some semi-criminal activities?" |
| "We try to stay on the Legal of the line, when it comes to stuff like that," said Sam "But, I heard that you helped him get his rival, Mr. Skies, placed on Death Row," the fish said. "When a man asks you to help you rescue a relative that's being held for ransom, that's one thing," said Sam. "That being said, if we'd been told to kill the person, straight up, we would of turned it down. The question is how does someone ask us such a question to do the job they want? You must ask us to do it in a legal manner. Rescue a kid being held hostage, we can do, and if we kill someone while rescuing the kid, well, we were protecting ourselves, and the hostage." |
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