by Michael Todd
“Right,” Derek agreed, feeling better already.
“Oh, and I suggest that you ask James Caplan to come out of retirement,” Korbin told him. “He has done some stellar consulting work for me in the past, and you can trust him fully. The biggest issue is figuring out whether we can actually get him.”
“All we can do is try,” Derek replied. “I mean, it’s not going to hurt. The worst he can say is no, and we haven’t lost anything with that. My mom always told me it never hurt to ask.”
“She was very right…unless it’s a stupid question.” Korbin chuckled. “I don’t agree that there are no stupid questions.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” Derek asked, still making notes.
“All right.” Korbin rubbed his hands together. “I give you my approval to reach out to James, but be very vague on what we need at first. Once he hears my name he will understand why it needs to be vague, especially over the phone. He will come in if he is interested, and we can give him a better rundown of what we are trying to achieve and where we want to take this project.”
“Awesome,” Derek exclaimed, standing up and shaking Korbin’s hand. “I’ll check back in with you later this week.”
“Sounds good,” Korbin agreed.
Derek felt better about his project when he left the office, and headed down to the main area.
Once he got there, he decided he needed a break; some time to just clear his mind. He headed up on the roof with his tablet.
Rarely did anyone go up there, so it was the perfect place to be alone and uninterrupted.
Everyone else was perfectly okay with being up each other’s butts, but not Derek. He cherished his alone-time. That was when he did the stupid shit most people made fun of him for.
He plopped down on the lounge and turned on his tablet, then went to his social media and scrolling through the lives of people that he didn’t know at all but had friended to make his account look real.
From there, he followed his normal routine of scanning through the memes of the day in several different groups that he belonged to. They were stupid but funny, and funny was a perfect break from the stress of the life he led.
His life consisted of constant doom and gloom, constant death, constant attacks, constant dark alleys, and constant blood baths, so if he could sit back for a couple of hours and laugh at llama or cat or even Ryan Reynolds memes, he was all about it. It was what he had done before he came into Korbin’s Killers. Before he was part of the Damned, before he knew demons really existed.
It made no difference to him that his life outside of that was different. He just focused on the laughs.
After about an hour, he looked up from his tablet and set it in his lap.
The sky was bright blue, and the breeze was almost hot as it rolled over the desert. He closed his eyes and thought about a life without killing.
He thought about the family he would never have, the house he would never buy, and the car he would never own.
He thought about his prospects for a future outside Korbin’s Killers, but what would he do? Sit on a beach, drink mango juice, and drum on a goatskin bongo? Nah, that wasn’t him. He had to be needed. To be important, and vital to the world’s functionality.
He wasn’t positive about the last one, but he sure as hell was trying to be vital, and the website was going to help him get there. He knew he could create a tool to help with the fights. He just needed to figure out the answer to the question at the back end of the code; the missing link that would tie it all together.
He just needed the final puzzle piece.
Chapter Eleven
Mamacita sat at her desk and stared down at the books. There were plenty of calculations to be done, and this was the first time that she’d had time to sit down and do them. She was tired of rushing through them right before the ordering, so she had now made it her rule that she would get them done at least one day before ordering. That way no matter who was there or who did the ordering, everything was set up for success.
Before she could begin, though, Joshua walked into the office.
“Hey!” He grinned at her. “I wanted to ask you a couple of questions about quotas and exchanges.”
Mamacita smiled. “Well, look who is all business now! Please sit down.”
“Thank you.”
“Why now?” Mamacita asked. “Let me rephrase that: why the interest now?”
“Well, I have to admit that in the beginning all I wanted to do was be left alone to make my weapons,” he told her. “I liked the quiet and the solace, and I didn’t want to have to deal with customers or anything. Of course, I would have failed miserably if I hadn’t, but I was unhappy and anxiety-ridden the whole time. Now, though, it’s different. I see the help that the others are giving me, giving you, and giving the company. I want to be a part of that, beyond just hammering out weapons. And most importantly, I don’t want to fail for a lot of reasons, but mostly because I know I can do better than I have until now.”
Mamacita listened to him with her hands in her lap and her face calm. She considered his words, his tone, his body language, and the story he was telling beneath it all.
She waited until he was done, and paused for a moment to think about what she wanted to say to him. She knew that with Joshua you had to be specific. You had to be on-point, but in a personal way.
You had to connect with him on his level.
“Let me ask you a question,” she began. “Who do you think the highest-level business people are, as far as careers?”
“I-I-I don’t know. Maybe bankers?” he suggested.
“That’s a good guess, but no,” she told him. “The highest-level business people are either engineers or in sales. They are working together, but they are on the same level in business.”
“How are they working together?” Joshua asked.
She smiled. “Well, think about it. You have the one who created it, and then you have the one who sells it. Engineers usually hire someone to work the business side, because that isn’t where their talents lie. Like you: you are very knowledgeable about creating the product. That is your expertise, and no one can even come close to doing your job. Then you have me and Korbin, who are really good with the books, so we focus all our energy there. We may be interested in learning how you do what you do, but we will still be better at the books. You are irreplaceable, though, and that makes you the most important man in this entire building. You push harder than anyone, and you are responsible for making the product that we will be selling.”
“Oh, okay.” Joshua nodded. “You are saying, stick with your strengths. Learn your weaknesses, but operate where you are the strongest.”
“Yes,” Mamacita agreed.
“So, like Katie—she helped get the business on track, but she was overwhelmed in the beginning,” Joshua said. “You and Korbin have a lot more experience on the business side, so you are taking over that part—at least for now—to make sure the company runs smoothly—so you aren’t having to dump money into it all the time because of bad deals with suppliers. Also, you are making sure that when I have done my job, you have a home for the product. It’s like a circle where we want the strongest people we can have at each point, so that we stay strong all the way through from beginning to end.”
“You got it.” Mamacita smiled, a glint of pride in her eyes. “You are even smarter than you give yourself credit for. You understand complexity in such a unique way, and it’s wonderful and refreshing. Now, I do want to point out that just because Katie didn’t know what to do, it doesn’t mean she was a bad owner. She reached out. In fact, being willing to reach out for help even when you are at the top is a very big indicator that you are a leader.”
“I’ve always wanted to be a leader, but it’s really hard because I get so nervous, and sometimes I get confused,” Joshua admitted.
“And that’s okay, because guess what? You are the leader in your specialty,” Mamacita told him. “Just like Korbin
and I are leaders in ours. You are the boss of the weapons.”
“I think I know what I need to do, then,” he said, closing his notebook. “Instead of focusing on something I’m not good at, I should be perfecting what I do best.”
“That’s a very good way to look at it,” Mamacita agreed. “And what is your plan?”
“Well, I think what I want to do is talk to Katie about finding more help to get the production up,” he replied. “Of course, that would depend on whether the girls are interested in having more work here, or more hours doing this instead of their other jobs. They are the only ones that would be allowed in the building, so I would have to come up with another idea if they aren’t interested. Maybe someone from the team, but I doubt it.”
“I would be more than happy to speak to the girls on your behalf,” Mamacita responded. “I just want you to remember that most of these girls have scraped by since Day One of their little lives, and while they love being here and getting a break from their other work, some of them are in it strictly for the money. Unfortunately, knowing the books, you wouldn’t be able to afford to pay some of them enough to leave their other job. It isn’t personal. If they were given the freedom and money didn’t matter, they would almost all choose to work here with all these wonderful people—and you, whom they all adore. Unfortunately the world isn’t always a fair place, so we make do. Just like you have in the past—sleeping in your van and doing the best you could.”
Joshua stood up. “Thank you, Mamacita. You have helped me, at least to understand this better.”
The wind blew through Katie’s hair as she cruised along the boulevard, taking in the scenery, feeling her own car beneath her, and actually enjoying the attention she was getting for once. Everyone loved the car, and it was pretty obvious that they thought the girl in it was smoking hot too. Katie admitted it was going straight to her head. She hadn’t had attention like that in a long time. In fact, she didn’t know if she’d ever experienced attention like this before.
I love this interior, Pandora gushed. It’s gorgeous! It’s color-coordinated, and it is really comfortable to sit on. Seriously, the last time I rode in any kind of vehicle-type-thing it was a carriage, and let me tell you…those carriages in Rome, they were not comfortable in the least. Even when I rode with the finest ladies of Rome, the pillows didn’t keep my ass from getting sore. It was horrible most of the time.
Damn! What was Rome like? Katie asked.
Smelly, hot, and there were breasts hanging out everywhere, she replied. But all in all it was really beautiful, what with the grapes and the wrath and the murder. It was juicier than our soap opera, that’s for damn sure.
Katie wrinkled her nose. That sounds horrible!
Maybe for a human, but for me it was heaven, Pandora replied. The carriages, they only had one advantage over these tiny little cars, and that was space. You could, if the road was not too bumpy, enjoy yourself physically in a carriage in olden times. Whether you were all alone taking care of your business or with others, there was enough room to bend forward, backward, grab your ankles—whatever he preferred.
You are the worst, Katie grumped. Seriously, you should be focusing on the positives, and instead you are telling raunchy sex stories for kicks and to get a rise out of me.
Oh, honey, Pandora replied. You are giving yourself way too much credit. I am just reminiscing, not trying to get a rise out of you. Maybe the guys in the barracks, but not you.
Katie sighed. Okay, go on…I want to hear all about Rome. Was it the way it is in movies?
Actually, yes. They have done a respectable job in most of the movies you have shown me of depicting what the scenery was like, where people lived, and how they dressed. They have done an amazing job with it, in fact. The only thing I can say is, women mostly wore dresses and these shawls called “pallas,” not togas…even the poorer women. Men wore togas on a daily basis, but the extremely poor people wore these tunic things. But any woman with her name on the Roman’s lips, she wore some sort of beautiful dress, lots of them imported. I, of course, wore all the latest fashions, and could woo just about any man I wanted while I was there. It was one of my favorite periods in history.
Did you take many lovers in Rome? Katie asked.
Oh, look at you, asking the right question! Pandora snickered. The answer to that is yes. Those Romans, they sure knew how to do a woman right. They were so strong, so manly, and the way their bodies glistened in the firelight was fantastic. And that Nero…oh my, did he know how to blow off some steam!”
Wait, Nero, as in the Emperor Nero? Katie asked. The emperor who was Claudius’ heir and reigned over Rome until his death in 68 A.D.?
You know your history, don’t you? Pandora laughed. Yes, that Nero. Emperor Nero.
Did you have anything to do with how despicable Nero was? Katie asked.
Nero was a master of his time. A child of the Roman chaos, Pandora told her.
Right, so did you have anything to do with his murders, his debauchery, or his persecution of Christians?
He had learned his hate at an early age. He was too naïve to understand the world around him but too pig-headed to slow down and learn, so he made a lot of mistakes. But I will make it clear that no matter how much he liked music, he was in no way a fiddler.
What’s wrong with fiddlers? Katie asked. And you are dodging my questions. Did you have anything to do with his suicide, then?
Let me just be clear on something, Pandora continued, dodging the question. Nero was his own special brand of wrong all by himself. He didn’t need me or anyone else to move him along.
You did have something to do with it, didn’t you? Katie gasped.
Did you know that I spent a brief bit of time in this country right after Columbus sailed the ocean blue?
You mean when he came onto native territory and shot and murdered over thirty people, and that was just him? Katie asked.
Well, you have your own viewpoint on the settlement, Pandora said. Though I have to say, you are pretty up on our political view of history.
It isn’t political, Katie snapped, irritation rising. It’s the truth, unguarded and unfiltered. It is what the schools should be teaching, but instead they celebrate Christopher Columbus and pretend like historical events never happened.”
“Are there still Indians?” Pandora asked.
“A ton,” Katie said. “But we call them natives or indigenous people or First Nations people now. Or you can call them by their tribe name, which they usually give out when introducing themselves. Our government gave them tiny bits of land and they made do with what they had, but we still treat them terribly today.
Leave it to the human race to be even more despicable than the demons sometimes, Pandora muttered. I can still see those pioneers, as they called them, shooting the Indians right in the face.
Anyway, Katie continued, I can tell that you don’t want to talk about Nero and your part in his torture and murder of dozens of people, but how can you sleep with someone who took someone else’s lives in rage like that?
I am a demon, Katie, Pandora answered in an even tone. You forgot that again.
Yeah, yeah. Katie sighed.
Katie made a right turn and drove as fast as she could through an alley, hoping that no one walked in front of her.
She really wanted to open up the new car and feel that adrenaline rush, but she figured she would just wait until she could get out in the desert or something like that. In the meantime, it was about time for her to start heading back to the base.
She’d had a big day, and she couldn’t wait to wow everyone with her new car. Hopefully Korbin didn’t completely lose his shit with her, though.
Chapter Twelve
Even though it was dangerous, Charlotte was secretly having a blast doing undercover work for Korbin and his team.
She felt like a real reporter, and for once she believed she was actually doing something worthwhile, not just providing idiot readers with tabloid headli
nes to fuel their conspiracy obsessions.
She was looking for a real bad guy, and attempting to get enough information to nail him for whatever atrocities he was bringing into the world.
That night she dressed carefully, not wearing one of her normal underground outfits. She didn’t put on excessive makeup, nor lace up her black calf-height boots. Instead she wore a nice dress, blue and white, with her hair down her back with little ringlets at the bottom, and she spritzed herself with the perfume her mother had given her three Christmases before that was still in the box.
She left her apartment and drove to Hollywood, parking a couple of blocks away from the bar since her car wasn’t the most glamorous thing. She walked to the corner right next to the bar the politician frequented, and stood there pretending to window-shop. As soon as his car pulled up out front she scooted inside, grabbing a seat at the bar and ordering a martini for looks.
In reality she hated martinis, but shots of whiskey wouldn’t fit in with her look that night. She glanced up nonchalantly as the politician walked past, completely ignoring her.
“Best way to not be caught trailing someone,” she muttered under her breath, “is be in front of him, waiting like a spider.”
She took the small cocktail straw from her drink and sucked on it, wincing slightly at the bite of gin in the back of her throat.
She turned slightly on her stool and crossed her legs, looking up at the television but keeping the politician in her peripheral vision. He walked to a table away from the bar, and three men dressed in expensive black suits stood and shook his hand. The first man was younger, probably around Charlotte’s age, with black hair slicked to his head and large rings like her rich old uncle had worn when she was a kid. His smile was fake, and you could see the malice in his eyes.
