“We’re on a two-year lease. Look, pardon me for asking, but why are you coming by at almost one in the morning?”
Danvers looked shocked. “One in the morning? No kidding?” He checked his comm. “I suppose it is. Frank, did you know it was one in the morning?”
Hickenlooper grunted. Danvers continued doing all the talking. “I never could keep time. Always late for school growing up. Maybe I got ADD or something.”
Merry tried to watch Hickenlooper from the corner of her eye. “I’m having a hard time paying attention myself. Hey, pal, what are you doing?” She caught Hickenlooper running his hand along a lighting fixture by the window.
He turned it on and actually spoke. “It’s a little dark in here, and I don’t see too good.”
This little get together wasn’t going anywhere and Merry was losing her patience. “Maybe it’s not your eyesight, maybe there’s just nothing to see.”
Danvers tapped his foot to a rhythm rolling around in his head, known only to him. “Miss Winterborn, what do you know about James…” Once again, he checked his comm for reference and said the last name with scorn. “Burrett?”
“Bad dude. Sort of a theatrical sociopath. Locked up now, right?”
Danvers shrugged. Hickenlooper continued his stroll around the room. Merry couldn’t stand him. “Buddy, if you’re trying to get your cardio in, there’s a gym on the first floor. Otherwise, take a seat.”
Danvers kept going. “We think Jayne is working for Burrett now. What do you think, Miss Winterborn?”
Merry mustered the full power of her fear, frustration and rage into a single glare in Danvers’ direction. “I don’t care, but if I decide to make it my problem I’ll let you know.”
Hickenlooper finished his circuit and came to a halt at the finish line, by Danvers right side. “If you do, let us know? Enough people have died already, Miss Winterborn. I hope you can at least agree with that.”
Danvers stood up and removed a business card from his coat. The card hummed with a dark green glow and its information scrolled around the front and back. “Sorry for bothering you Miss Winterborn. We’ll leave you alone now. I’m sure it’s past your bedtime.” He nudged Hickenlooper. “Come on, Frank. Our meter’s up and I don’t want another parking ticket.” He walked toward the door, turning back to Merry one last time. “I’m sure you know what a pain in the ass that can be. Right?”
Merry shook her head, no. “I take the bus.”
“Have a good evening.”
Merry stepped forward after Danvers as he and Hickenlooper made moves toward the door. “Oh, Mister Danvers?”
Hickenlooper stopped by the door. He checked the time on his comm while Danvers faced Merry.
Danvers smiled. “Yes?”
Merry walked right up to him, close enough to smell the cigarette from twenty minutes ago on his breath. “I was wondering… would you like to know the size of your penis?”
Danvers furrowed his brow. “I’m sorry?”
Merry slowed down her question so there wouldn’t be any confusion. “I asked… would you like me to tell you how big your penis is?”
Danvers gave a bemused look to Hickenlooper. He glanced back at Merry with a smirk. “And how exactly would you do that?”
“I’ll show you.” Merry hooked her hand up into Danvers’ groin, squeezed, and twisted. Danvers’ knees buckled, but Merry’s grasp was vice like. She was holding on too tight for him to fall to the ground.
Merry could feel Danvers’ family jewels in her hands. She looked him in the eyes. “Average at best.”
She mercifully released his no-longer-fertile balls. Danvers fell back into Hickenlooper’s arms.
Merry had already turned her back on them and walked back to the desk. “Get out of my office.”
Once Hickenlooper dragged Danvers out the door, Merry ran over to the window and peered down through the smog until she saw their figures below exit the building, climb into a parked cruiser, and zoom off.
Only when the car was totally out of sight did she begin checking over every square inch Hickenlooper walked by. She slid her fingers over the surface, behind and around the furniture. She checked the lamp Hickenlooper turned on – nothing. She turned it upside down, she unscrewed the lightbulb, she did everything but smash it – not a bug in sight. Then what the hell was that guy doing?
Treating Danvers like a stress ball made Merry feel better, but she still wanted to rip her hair out. Some classic intimidation, throwing around information, puffing out chests, and floating out some false information. Right?
The doubt about Burrett returned to Merry once more.
She took out Danvers’ card. His name and title flashed on the card in bright green. Agent Byron Danvers, Federation Bureau of Security and Data, Criminal Monitoring Division.
That’s when it hit her. The bug.
She snapped the business card in half.
+++
Canteen Street, L52, Theron Techcropolis, Amaros
Vlad turned over the two halves of the broken business card in his hands as he walked with Merry and Fred down the narrow and crowded Canteen Street.
“Sure, it’s definitely a bug. But it’s not that clever. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Merry took the halves of the business card back. “That’s what I thought. Surely they wanted me to figure it out, right?”
Fred fought through the crowd behind them to catch up. “They’re trying to slow us down, right?”
Vlad shook his head. “I think they’re trying to freeze us.”
Merry nodded. “With fear.” She held up the broken bug. “For every roach you see, there’s a million that are hidden.” She slid it into her pocket.
Vlad stopped in his tracks and let the crowd flow around him, like a rock in a stream. “I hate saying this, but I don’t know what to do.”
Fred leapt in front of them both. “I do! We’re gonna eat pancakes.” He skipped ahead to their destination, Jack Flap’s Flapjacks, another addition to a chain of themed-restaurant-themed restaurants. This one, according to an enthusiastic Fred, riffs on the tiki theme of yore. Since it opened two months earlier, Fred had already broken their flapjack record four times, each time topping himself. The most he’d been able to gorge himself on was 46. Today, he was going for 50.
Vlad and Merry were not thrilled about encouraging Fred’s new passion, which Merry was sure was some kind of coping mechanism for the stress they were under, but the office was no longer a safe place to meet.
He held open the bamboo-faced door for Vlad and Merry. “I think you guys are going to find this place has everything you could ever want.”
Merry wasn’t sure about that as she walked in, though it was hard to argue against the ‘everything’ part. Suddenly, the three of them were totally immersed in a thick, luscious tropical atmosphere complete with the exotic calls of birds and roars of distant tigers. Vines, fishing gear, and lanterns hung down from the ceiling.
The façade would have been totally convincing if not for the sickening sweet smell of pancake batter and maple syrup.
A chipper hostess attacked them with machine gun fire of a greeting from behind a massive tiki head with fire in its eyes. “Hello there, explorers! Welcome to Jack Flap’s Flap Jacks! The WIILDEST Flap Jacks you can find this deep in the jungle. We bet you’re hungry from your long expedition…”
Fred had the entire greeting memorized, which he silently mouthed along to, “so why don’t you take your mind off that secret temple long enough to focus on our secret recipe!”
The hostess smiled. “Right this way, please!”
Every table had the appearance of being constructed from ship parts – captain’s wheels, hull sides, barrels – and the entire bar was an aquarium.
On the way to their table the hostess shoved them all to the side, essentially saving their lives as a crew of waiters shouted “Birthday a’hoy!” and hustled past them with a canoe hoisted on their shoulders. A young boy sat in the canoe wi
th a fez on his head, holding a bowl of melting ice cream, while the waiters carrying the canoe chanted:
What shall we do with the birthday bo-oy?
What shall we do with the birthday bo-oy?
What shall we do with the birthday bo-oy
When he’s turning Seven?!
The birthday crew shuffled past them, plowing through another side of the massive dining area, where they tossed the canoe up and down and made storm noises.
The hostess finally sat Merry, Vlad, and Fred down at a table.
Vlad kept jerking his attention from one side of the restaurant to another, constantly bewildered and overwhelmed by each new detail. “I am way too high for this place. I thought that aquarium was real for a minute.” He pointed to the bar.
Fred clapped his hands. “The aquarium is real!”
Vlad’s eyes went wide, astonished.
Merry was not high, not impressed, and not in the mood. “This place is really—”
“Awesome!?” Fred blurted out.
Merry ignored him. “… tacky.” She looked down at the menu.
“Hello, my name is Jessica! How are you guys doing today?”
Fred leaned back in the booth, fully at home. “Real good, Jessica! How are you?”
Their waitress laughed and playfully slapped Fred on the arm. “I thought I recognized you, Fred! Going for another record today?”
Fred smirked cockily at Jessica. “Yes, I would like fifty pancakes please!”
Jessica tapped the order into her tablet. “Okay, good luck, Fred. There’s a new guy who made it to forty-three last week. What can I get for you?”
Merry handed the menu to Jessica without looking at it. “Coffee. Black.”
Jessica tapped a coffee into the tablet. “And you, sir?”
Vlad’s sleepy eyes were drawn to the biggest item on the menu. “Does this waffle really come in the shape of a 3D scale-model of the Titanic?”
Jessica nodded and held out her hands to illustrate its size. “It sure does. And for three extra credits, we’ll serve that in a bowl with a scoop of ice cream it crashes into, then sinks into a sea of hot fudge.”
Vlad nodded. “I’ll have that and a Bloody Mary.”
Jessica slid her fingers across the tablet, sending the order to the kitchen. “That will be right out for y’all. If you need anything, just summon me by speaking into the tiki head by your table.” She pointed at the stone face hanging on the wall above their booth, then moved on to the next table in her section.
Merry shut her eyes, desperate to be anywhere else. “I hate this place.”
Fred pleaded with her from across the table. “I admit it’s a lot at first but give it time. It will grow on you. I promise.”
Vlad squinted toward the bar. “I’m still not convinced those fish are real. They move too fast.”
The birthday canoe had evidently made its rounds and was returning to its home port at a large corner booth seating the boy’s very concerned family.
What shall we do with the birthday bo-oy?
What shall we do with the birthday bo-oy?
What shall we do—
But the reverie was interrupted when the young birthday boy was suddenly overcome by severe seasickness. He vomited pancakes and ice cream all over his family, from siblings to grandparents, with plenty left to douse the waiters holding up his canoe. They dropped the canoe, spilling the child out and onto the table, which catapulted upward and vaulted their breakfast into the air.
The entire restaurant gasped in unison and looked on the catastrophe in stony silence. After a lengthy dramatic pause, the entire family, the wait staff, and even the 7-year old boy lined up and bowed. They were actors, the young boy, truthfully a teenager with a hormone disorder, had a plastic bag of cold vegetable soup hidden in his shirt, and a rubber tube that ran up and out by his neck. The entire restaurant applauded at the establishment’s severe commitment to their post-post-modernistic gimmick.
Merry massaged her temples, an attempt to keep the headache away. “Fred, I’m going to order two Mai Tais just so I can pierce your eyes with those decorative umbrellas.”
Fred blushed. “Aw. Thanks, Merry.”
Once a clean-up crew in grass skirts put that corner of the restaurant back in order, Jessica returned with their food.
She set the coffee down in front of Merry. “One black coffee!” Merry scoffed. Of course it was served inside a coconut.
She placed a huge bowl in front of Vlad, just in time for him to see the waffle Titanic run into the ice cream and sink bow first into the hot fudge. “One Maritime Disaster for you, sir…”
And the pièce de résistance, a three foot stack of pancakes soggy with maple syrup and butter. Jessica placed it in front of Fred. He had a glorious view of nothing but pancakes before him. “Thank you, Jessica!”
Jessica smiled and looked over everything. “If you guys need anything else, let me know!”
Merry craned her neck to see Fred around the flap jack column. “Fred, how are you so skinny?”
Fred shrugged. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. But I’m worried I have a tapeworm.”
Merry gagged. “Oh, please don’t mention tapeworms. The syrup smell is making me nauseous already.”
Vlad wiped a tear away from his eye. “You know, I think those who went down with the Titanic would be really touched by this tribute.”
Fred rotated his stack of pancakes, looking at it from all sides. “Is it just me, or is his tolerance actually going down?” He kept turning the pancakes. “Ah-ha!”
Fred very carefully parted the stack of pancakes in the middle, and pulled out a piece of paper. “Yes, here we go! The secret ingredient.”
He handed it to Merry, who held the folded sticky paper at the corner. “What is this?”
Fred, mouth now full of pancake, motioned her to open it. Merry did her best not to tear the note as she peeled it apart from itself. At last, she had it open and read the message written inside.
Thrill House Arcade, L26, Tomorrow morning, 5 AM – J.
Merry read the message again. And again. She couldn’t believe it. “Fred! How did you? How?”
Fred snatched the message out of Merry’s hand. “That’s why I come here! The secret ingredients.” He wadded the note and popped it in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed.
Merry leaned across the counter. “Yes, but how, Fred? HOW?”
Jessica came back to the table. “Everyone doing okay, over here?”
Fred spoke obviously, hoping Merry would get the hint. “We sure are. Thank you, Jess.”
For Merry, it all clicked.
Jess smiled. “Awesome. If you guys need anything else… Just let me know.”
A moment of stunned, silent victory passed.
Vlad dabbed more tears from his eyes and looked up from his bowl. “I’m sorry, I was having a moment. What happened?”
Merry smiled at Vlad. “Nothing, my dear. You got the tip, right? Be sure to leave our waitress a big one.”
CHAPTER NINE
Three Blocks Down From Thrillhouse Arcade, L26, Theron Techcropolis, Amaros
Vlad slid a crowbar out of his sleeve, prepared to protect his friends from vagrants and muggers. With law enforcement dedicating all efforts toward finding Jayne, petty crime had been on the rise.
Especially on the lower levels.
Merry swiped the crowbar out of Vlad’s hand. “What is this?”
Vlad stammered. “Um… a crowbar.”
Merry looked at the crowbar, sticking her lower lip out in approval. “Wow. This is a nice crowbar, too. Strong. Definitely could do some damage with this. Neat.” Then she wound up a pitch and hurled the crowbar over a fence into a junkyard.
“Hey!” Vlad pouted.
Merry smacked her hand against the side of her head, the universal symbol for ‘use your brain, dumbass!’ and chastised Vlad. “We’re meeting public enemy numero uno, dude. The last thing we need is us looking like a bunch of c
riminals, too. Doy!”
Fred passive aggressively sighed. “You guys aren’t going to get arrested for being criminals! You’re going to get arrested for being annoying! Now can we please just get to this arcade?”
Merry and Vlad each crossed their arms and glared at each other. A mirror image. “You owe me a crowbar.”
Merry walked away, taking the lead. “You can stay here and go get it yourself. We’ll meet up with you later.”
Vlad groaned, said goodbye to his crowbar, and caught up.
+++
Thrillhouse Arcade, L26, Theron Techcropolis, Amaros
The dead arcade’s entrance gaped at them like the toothless maw of a skull. The glass door was smashed, its sliding mechanism caught halfway on the track.
A light fixture hung down in the entrance. The arcade’s appearance added a dark irony to the slogan hanging beneath its sign: Thrills Await You.
Merry maintained her position as the leader by tearing away the “condemned” sign and shoving two sections of chain-link fence out of their way.
Fred and Vlad followed. Fred helped Merry shove open the sliding doors while Vlad kept watch for any passersby who may catch them. He was sure they’d attract attention after a solid minute of metal scraping metal as Fred and Merry forced the doors open.
Once they forced a gap wide enough for them to squeeze through, all three ventured into the arcade.
Fred took out his power light. “You think Jayne could’ve made this a little easier for us?”
The fuse of Merry’s tolerance for Jayne-bashing had grown shorter over the past week. “She’s not in a position to take chances, Fred! Stop complaining.” In truth, Merry’s desire to bash Jayne, to criticize her, to chew her out for everything she had put them through, grew stronger by the minute.
She fought the urge, but she didn’t know how much longer she could deny her feelings.
CLICK. Fred froze. “I think I stepped on something.”
The darkness of the arcade lit up with the simultaneous activation of four holograms. Suddenly they were surrounded by six huge boxers. “I’m Jack McSlammer! I hope you brought a spatula! Because when I’m done with you, you’ll need one to scrape yourself off the canvas!”
Exposed (Interplanetary Spy for Hire Book 2) Page 9
