The Troubleshooter: The Most Dangerous Dame

by Bard Constantine

  “What do you think?”

  My stomach sank to my toes when I turned. Electra had donned a latex catsuit so tight on her slender curves it looked like she dipped her body in glossy black paint. Her eyes were covered by cubed goggles fashioned after insect eyes, and a crimson hourglass glimmered from between her shiny breasts. A short-handled leather tasseled whip hung from her gloved hand.

  The Black Widow had come to play.

  I swallowed. “Not exactly what I had in mind, but–”

  “Hush.”

  I winced when the tassels cracked across my bare legs. It was more from the snapping sound than the actual sting, but it got an evil laugh from Electra anyway. She leaped atop me, grinding against my groin area in a fashion that proved quite distracting despite my humiliating predicament.

  “Your mistress didn’t order you to speak.” She emphasized her point with a savage kiss that ended with her teeth pulling at my bottom lip. She released just at the point of drawing blood and grinned. “You be a good boy and this will go easier. You act up and things might get downright nasty.” She lashed the whip across my legs again. Her other hand produced the switchblade I came across earlier. The bayonet-style blade popped out with a click. I screwed my eyes shut and tried not to scream when her arm whipped down.

  When I recovered from my terror I saw she had slashed through my shirt, not my chest and intestines like I figured. She purred like a kitten as her vinyl-gloved hand rubbed my bare chest. Her other hand brushed against the automated holster strapped to my forearm. “Oooh, what’s this?”

  “Just a little insurance policy I picked up from the Sarge at Johnson Arms.”

  “Well, try not to discharge accidently. This is going to be the night of your life, Mick Trubble. I guarantee it.”

  My reply was cut off when the window shattered. The sniper’s bullet struck Electra before I could even register what happened. She never made a sound as her limp body sailed off the bed and hit the carpet at the same time as the splintered glass.

  I struggled against the handcuffs as the outer door was kicked in and the tread of angry footsteps approached. Either I was weaker than I thought or the bed was purposely built for the sole purpose of BDSM. Either way I could do nothing to free myself from the shackles or check on Electra’s condition. She made no sound or movement, which pretty much told me all I needed to know.

  Natalie entered the room, sweeping every corner with her eyes. Her strawberry blond hair was pulled back from her beautifully cold features and she was dressed to kill in combat fatigues reinforced with armor at the chest, shoulders, knees and elbows. She placed one hand on her hip. The other toted a Bond 953 special tactics handgun, which she pointed directly at me.

  She made tsking sound with her mouth as she glanced at Electra’s fallen body, then back at me in all of my disgraced glory. “I am very disappointed with you, Michael. Very. Disappointed.”

  Chapter 19: The Payoff

  It’s difficult to conjure an air of nonchalance with a pistol pointed at you while you’re handcuffed to a bed, but I gave it my best shot. “Oh, it’s ‘Michael’ now, is it? What happened to Mick?”

  “Mick Trubble is a cover you were supposed to lose when your mission was over. Your name is Special Agent Michael Trudo of the Secret Service. It’s time to stop playing games, Michael. This detour of yours has gone way over the top.”

  I shrugged. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Bullshit.” The handgun boomed in her hand.

  The mattress still rocked from the impact when I finally reopened my eyes. Fluff floated down from the fist-sized crater less than an inch from my goodies. I shivered as my pores broke out in a cold sweat, wondering what the hell happened to the security in the joint. Figured they must’ve been paid to take a hike. Or knowing Natalie’s reputation, they were all dead.

  Natalie’s raised the weapon about an inch upward. “Now that I have your attention, let me ask the obvious question–where is Faraday’s god lode?”

  I blinked. “What–?”

  She leveled the gun at my head. “I think you’d better get your act together real fast, Michael. I know you have memory issues, but in a second you’ll have brain leakage. What–did you think this was all some ‘woman scorned’ act? Get over yourself. Faraday kept his most valuable data in the same thermal orbot you ended up destroying at Beck’s mansion.”

  Sinn’s voice buzzed in my ear. “Keep her talking, Mick. I’m using the trajectory of the first gunshot to pinpoint the location of the shooter. Poddar is on location to take him out.”

  I kept my attention focused on Natalie. “If you know about the explosion, you know his data card or whatever was in that orb went up in flames like the building did. Sounds like you made this trip for biscuits, toots.”

  Her mouth thinned into a frown. “Don’t talk that New Haven slang to me, Michael. Do you know how ridiculous it sounds coming from you? You know the drive inside of the orb is nearly indestructible, don’t you? I’ve been trying to jar your memory since I got here. I can’t believe Faraday screwed you up this badly.”

  “Jarring my memory by what–slicing and dicing innocent women? Pretty sick way to go about it.”

  “Trauma is a time-tested method of both memory loss and recollection. You forgot about the drop from the city heights. We went through that in our Service training, remember?”

  “Obviously I don’t. What happened to the trainees who didn’t get their crate to land?”

  Her expression was as placid as if ordering dinner. “The Service can’t use an agent who can’t think on his feet.”

  “So they die.”

  “The weak have to be culled in order for the strong to thrive. It’s an absolute in any society.”

  I shook my head. “Wow. You think Faraday did a job on me? You should talk, sister. The only difference between us is that I know my head is screwed up. What’s your excuse?”

  The gun quivered in her hand. “I can’t believe this is you. I can’t believe you were so weak to just accept this clown mask without fighting with every inch of your being. I told everyone you were buying time. Figuring out how to reconfigure your mission. But the reports kept coming in saying you went over. Just another lost soul in a city of lost souls.”

  “Guess so. Better than a puppet on Secret Service strings.”

  “The god lode. Where is it?” There was something in her expression that gave me pause. Something beyond the rage that consumed her. It was in her eyes. Something shimmered there, barely visible despite her attempt to mask it.

  Fear. Not of me, but of someone else.

  I lowered my voice. “You don’t have to let them control you, Natalie.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I’m serious. We all have a choice to be who we are. I chose to be Mick Trubble. You understand? You can choose your life also. It doesn’t have to be–”

  “Spare me the empathy speech, Michael. I’m not buying it. You have no idea who you’re up against. I should just kill you now.” Her hand tightened around the pistol grip. “My mission was to bring you in if I couldn’t jolt your memory, but no one fully understood the complete disaster you are. I’m going to tell them the truth.” Her jaw trembled. “I’m going to tell them Michael Trudo is dead.”

  “What’s holding you back then?” I gestured with my manacled hands. “You got me right where you want me. You won’t ever get a better chance than right now.”

  Her eyes glistened. “You want me to do it? Don’t push your luck, Michael. I’ll do it.”

  Sinn’s voice buzzed over the Datacom. “It’s done, Mick. Poddar’s taken out the sniper.”

  I grinned at Natalie. “Too late, sweetheart. Should’ve done it when you had the chance.”

  She had just enough time to look confused before the shot rang out. Her handgun sparked and ripped from her grip, flying across the room. She threw herself in the corner, holding her injured hand while throwing a murderous stare my direction.

>   “Guess I underestimated you, Michael. I figured you had some help in all of this. Whoever they are–they’re going to regret ever being born.”

  “No.” Electra used the comforter to help pull herself up from the floor. Her eyes narrowed into slits. “You’re the one who’s going to regret being born, bitch.”

  Natalie stared. “Your catsuit. It’s made of poly-liquid aramids, isn’t it?”

  Electra twirled the switchblade in her hand. “A girl has to be prepared for these kind of hijinks. Think the Service is the only distributor of PLA suits? You should try the Grey Market sometime. Everything’s for sale at the right price, baby.”

  Natalie smirked and raised herself into a crouch. “The impact still hurts, doesn’t it? I know it does. You know what–I’m glad you’re not dead. Just gives me the chance to cut your throat out like the other pathetic little girls.” She yanked a stiletto dagger from her boot and flew across the room.

  The air hummed with the speed of their slashes. I was a hapless witness to one deadly display of speed and reflexes as they tried their best to spill each other’s guts across the floor. The blades scattered glints of light across the room as the two women thrust and parried. Most knife fights end in a few seconds, but those dames where good. While they practiced their slice and dice skills I struggled to free myself again. Both the cuffs and the bedframe still refused to cooperate.

  “Sinn? Poddar? A little help here would be nice.”

  My ear buzzed. “Hang on, Mick. Natalie has another agent on-site. Poddar’s taking fire.”

  Automatic gunfire erupted in bursts outside the hotel, followed by the screams and mass panic of the crowds. Engines revved, tires squealed, and metal crunched as vehicles careened into one another. I figured Poddar could handle himself. I was more worried about my own predicament.

  Electra bashed a cheap vase across Natalie’s head, leaping back to avoid a wild slash. Her free hand tossed a key at my feet. “Get out of here, Mick. This puttana is mine.”

  “Glad to oblige.” I concentrated on trying to pick up the key with my feet. It was a bit hard to do while two women took turns throwing each other into walls and across furniture. Both seemed to have lost their knives and were engaged in a vicious round of fisticuffs. Enraged screams, grunts, and the sound of shattered furniture filled the room as the key dangled precariously between my big toes.

  I nearly cried when Electra was flung from halfway across the room and took a tumble over the bed. Her body struck my legs, the key glinted as it tumbled across the room. Electra fell awkwardly on the other side, grimacing as she clutched her right arm, which appeared to be broken. Blood slid down her face from slashes to her cheek and forehead. She gritted her teeth as her gaze fell on the Mean Ol’ Broad lying beside the bed.

  “That’s not gonna–”

  My warning was cut off by Natalie, who catapulted over the bed and landed right on top of Electra’s injured arm. Enraged shrieks followed as Natalie pressed her advantage, pummeling Electra with repeated lightning-quick punches. After Electra went limp, Natalie snatched up the Broad, aimed at Electra’s head, and pulled the trigger.

  Or tried to. She looked at the Mean Ol’ Broad in disgust, wiping her bloody nose with the back of her hand. “I can’t believe it. This old piece has bio-recog installed?”

  I gave her my best guilty smile. “Can’t be too safe these days.”

  She dropped the Broad and reached behind her to unsheathe a six-inch tactical blade from her belt. “You still think this is funny business, don’t you? Let me show you something funny. I’m going to cut your little tramp’s face from ear to ear. She’ll be laughing then. Permanently–just like the others. Just like Maxine.” She smiled as she seized Electra by the hair and pulled her head up. “I want you to watch, Michael. I want you to remember who you really are.”

  I yanked against the manacles until the steel bit into my flesh. “Natalie…”

  She placed the tip of the blade just inside of Electra’s mouth and paused. “You haven’t told me what my real name is, Michael. You tell me that and your little wildcat lives. Come on, Michael. You can do it. It’s so easy.”

  I grimaced, frantically trying to unearth the stolen memories. No matter how hard I concentrated, nothing surfaced. My mind was a sprawling maze, but I was sealed inside a tiny section of it by towering walls of oblivion.

  Natalie’s eyes rimmed with red as she shook her head. “You really are lost, aren’t you? Time’s up, Michael. Maybe this will finally jar your memory.”

  Heavy footsteps reverberated down the hall. Natalie dropped Electra and stood quickly as a burly giant barreled into the room at full speed. He roared as he closed in on Natalie’s diminutive form.

  Ben the Bear.

  Benny never slowed when he slammed into her, seemingly unaware of the combat dagger she stabbed deep into his abdomen. Natalie’s feet left the floor from the force of the impact. Her body was already limp by the time it busted completely through the drywall to the adjoining room with a bone-splintering explosion of dust and broken wall beams.

  Benny whirled, his eyes feverish as he looked for more combatants. He finally calmed down when he recognized me.

  “Mick. What…what are you doing cuffed to the bed?”

  “Being interrogated, Benny. Terrible stuff, can’t talk about it. Grab the key over there, willya?”

  After finally being freed of those horrible cuffs, I found my pants and strapped the Mean Ol’ Broad back under my arm. My shirt was a ragged mess after being sliced open by Electra, but there was nothing I could do about that. I pulled on my suit jacket and placed my Bogart back on my head. “Electra all right?”

  Benny looked up from where he crouched over her. “Broken arm, some cuts and bruises. She’ll be ok. Her pride will hurt worse than anything.”

  “I thought you were babysitting Lord Troll. What the hell happened?”

  His broad back stiffened. “Excuse me for saving your ass, Mick. Ms. Sinn had Lord Troll taken care of. He’s at Neo Luxe being watched by Oscar Greco’s boys. Oscar’s falling head over heels to get back in my uncle’s good graces. Sinn ran that mathematical bunk and figured I’d be better used over here.”

  “Well, I can’t argue with math. Stay with Electra.” I pulled the Broad and ducked in through the cavity in the wall. The room was thankfully empty of any innocent patrons. A clear trail of debris and blood spatters led down the hall.

  And out the open door.

  “Dammit. She’s dusted out, Benny.”

  “What? No way she brushed that hit off.”

  “You’re not factoring in a healing system powered by nanoaccelerators.” I put the Broad back in her holster and returned to the other room. “I’ve gotta go after her. You stay here. Sinn will alert the paramedics and get you and Electra taken care of.”

  “Me? I’m coming with you, Mick. We almost had her. Sinn’s got access to Lord Troll’s entire surveillance network. Your girl’s got nowhere to go where we can’t find her.”

  “You’ve got a knife in your gut, Benny. You’re in no shape to do nothing but rest. I’ll take it from here.”

  “I got a knife…in my–” Benny stared disbelievingly at the crimson stain that spread around the protruding handle. “I didn’t even feel–”

  “You’ll feel it in a minute. Leave it alone. Let the paramedics handle it.”

  His eyes practically swam in his head. “Am I gonna bite it, Mick? Is this how I go out?”

  “You’ll be fine, kid. It’ll be all right, I promise.”

  He slowly sat on the bed, eyes alternating from the knife handle to anywhere else in the room. His chest heaved. “I’ll be all right. I’ll be all right…”

  “You will. And hey, kid–you did good.” I pointed at him. “Keep an eye on Electra. Help’s on the way.”

  He gave me a sickly grin. “Nothing to it.”

  I left the room and strode down the hall. “Sinn, you did alert the paramedics, right?”

  “I al
erted them when the first shot was fired. They’re entering the building now.”

  “Fantastic. You got a bead on Natalie?”

  “Of course. She’s taken a floater to the skylanes. Not to worry. Lord Troll gave up all of the SS safe houses. I’ve already narrowed it down based on the trajectory of her flight path.”

  “Good. Stall her and send the data to my holoband. How’s Poddar doing?”

  “He took out the gunman and the backup agent, but took a bullet in the arm. He’s on the way to a hospital to get sewn up.”

  “Ok, adding in Lord Troll and Buckshot, that accounts for four of the five-man hit team. Natalie is the only one left. I’m on my way to wrap that up now.”

  “You’re going alone? I calculate a sixty-eight percent chance you don’t make it out of there alive. You should call Flask for backup.”

  I shook my head with a wry grin. “Believe or not, I’ve been capable of taking care of myself way before you got in the picture, Ms. Sinn. This is something I gotta do alone.”

  “The road to hell is paved with machismo, Mick. I’ll be on the line if you need me.”

  There weren’t any remaining patrons left in the entertainment hall by the time I strolled through. A few of the entertainers remained, not put off by the sounds of violence that had cleared the floor. I figured the joint got rowdy enough that a few gunshots and some fisticuffs didn’t mean much to them. I nodded to a waiter that looked right around my height and weight.

  “Gonna need for you to lose the shirt, Ace.”

  He stroked his curled mustached with an arrogant smirk. “I’m afraid I can’t comply with such a demand. Not on the first date, anyway–Ace.”

  His conceited demeanor fell pretty quick when I pulled the Mean Ol’ Broad and stared down the sights at his dismayed face. “I’m pretty sure you will. ‘Cause I’m not asking again–Ace.”

  Sinn made sure to hit Natalie’s route with every detour, red light, and traffic jam she could engineer. I figure Natalie must have been sweating bullets, imagining the authorities or myself coming after her while she was exposed and vulnerable. It was a tempting notion. But I’d had enough of collateral damage. Natalie was sure to be more deadly when cornered, and wouldn’t hesitate to cause a little civilian carnage in order to escape.