by Taylor Lee
Chao broke in. “Particularly by a Chink?”
Gabe felt his face heat. “That’s not what I was going to say. But, yes. I’m sorry, that is true. The fact that you are a wildly successful Chinese man sticks in the craw of a hell of a lot of men who envy you and use your race as an excuse to hate you. One more thing: Put an ‘x’ by their name, if they are associated with Dominic in any way.”
Chao nodded and smiled slightly. “All the men I bested in the last year? Particularly the ones I humiliated in the process? Hmm, I will need more than one sheet of paper, Gabe.”
Shoving down a pained expletive, Gabe snorted out a laugh. “I’ll just bet you do.” He pushed a stack of paper toward Chao, “Start writing.”
Gabe walked over to the liquor cabinet and rummaged through the well-stocked shelves. He grunted when he found the bottle he wanted. Pulling out a bottle of Jameson, he retrieved two tumblers.
“I’m gonna need something a little less civilized to work my way through these,” he said, pointing to the notes, “Want to join me?”
Without waiting for Chao’ response, Gabe filled the glasses, whiskey sloshing over the brim. He handed one to Chao and set the other on the table beside the desk chair. Settling in the chair, he dragged out his cigarette case and lit up a Duke of Durham, his favorite brand next to the exclusive Turkish cigarettes that had become his trademark. Taking a big swig of whisky, he sighed and picked up the top note.
Half an hour later, Chao handed him four sheets of paper with names written on both sides.
Gabe guffawed. “Damn, Chao, you don’t play around, do you. Hell, it shouldn’t take us more than a lifetime to work our way through your enemies.” Tucking the notes in his vest pocket, he added with a shrug, “Unfortunately, we don’t have a lifetime. Maybe a few weeks, at the most.”
He gathered up the papers, then slammed down the rest of the whisky in his glass. Nodding at his friend, he let a slight smile break through and gave him a wink. “I best get started.”
At the door, Gabe turned and faced him.
“I may be a son of a bitch, Chao. In fact, there isn’t any question about that. We both know it. But I don’t take advantage of innocent young women. However, I do make damn sure no one else will.”
Without looking back, he strode out, slamming the door behind him.
Chao went back to his desk and sunk down in his chair. He moved the untouched glass of whisky to the side. He poured himself another two fingers of cognac and sipped on it. He glanced up at the portrait above the mantle and smiled, then spoke to the empty doorway.
“That, my friend, was before you met my daughter.”
Chapter 9
“Damn, Gabe, it will take ten of us to investigate this… and weeks of time. We have five days. Why?”
Looking hard at the blond-haired giant across from him, Gabe admitted to himself that, as usual, Gunnar had gone to the heart of the problem. This task required the best of them. Only their most trusted partners qualified. That gave them ten to twelve men at the most, and would mean taking them off jobs they were currently working.
He nodded in agreement and then shrugged, “We don’t have a choice, Gunnar. From the notes Chao showed me, the threats are ramping up, becoming more explicit. Whoever this fucker is, he’s getting anxious. He’s ready to make a move.”
Gabe waited for Eagle to say something. But the brown-skinned man sitting next to him was silent, methodically going through the notes as if they held secrets only he could unearth. Gabe thought with a grin, that may be true. Just as Gabe had a sixth sense that allowed the poker cards to talk to him, Eagle’s strange insights often came out of nowhere, but proved eerily correct.
“Seeing something in the tea leaves, brother?” Gabe asked with a grin.
Eagle’s black eyes flashed. He met Gabe’s gaze head on, then shook his head and drawled, “Not yet.”
Gabe appreciated his friend’s honesty and wasn’t put off by his laconic response. He knew the answer to the identity of the man they were seeking was buried somewhere in those notes and if anyone could eke out the answer, Eagle could.
The saloon was quiet. It was late. Only the slurred voices of the men who had stayed too long wafted over the room. Shorty was winding up. He’d sent his bartender home a couple of hours ago and was looking for somewhat sober friends who could cart out the drunken remnants of his clientele. Acknowledging the three men in the corner table, he raised a bottle of Jameson with a questioning glance. At Gabe’s nod, the big man hauled his three hundred pound plus, six foot ten inch frame across the room. Plunking the bottle down on the table, he scooped up the empties and smiled in appreciation. Risking his life, he turned on Eagle. “Thought you Injuns couldn’t hold your liquor, but hell, man, this is your third bottle and you ain’t even got bloodshot eyes.”
Eagle gave him what passed as a smile that on other men would be considered a grimace. “Did you ever think it could be that the man who imposed himself on my little squaw mother had a drop or two of Irish blood in ‘im? Or, could it be that you’re watering down this fine libation, Shorty?”
Shorty puffed up like an indignant adder. “Hell, you think I’m crazy, as well as fat?” Nodding at Gabe, he grunted. “Christ, man, like I would doctor Angel’s whisky? Think I have a death wish?” Glancing at the quartet across the room, two of whom had their heads on the table, the rumble of drunken snores confirming they had passed the breaking point. Shorty grinned. “Now those fuckers have been getting pigslop for the last two hours, and they are too drunk to notice. How do you think I can afford to give you fine gentlemen the whisky you deserve if I didn’t cut a few corners with the riff raff?”
Eagle gave the big man a silent salute and cracked open the bottle, filling the three glasses in front of them.
The big man turned to go back to the bar, then stopped for a moment and pinned Gabe with a thoughtful stare. “You missed a good game tonight, Angel. Any chance you fuckers will be coming through here a little more regularly? Hell, man, the minute the word goes out that the Ace Angel is sittin’ in, my profits go through the roof. I appreciate you so much, I might even consider that third bottle on the house.”
“Thanks, Shorty. But we’re not here to cut into your take,” Gabe said. “But you can do something for us. I’d appreciate knowing who’s been asking after me.” He added with a grin, “Always like to know my competition.”
Shorty snorted. “Competition, my ass. Are those the ones you fleece after thirty minutes instead of your usual fifteen?”
“Ah, Shorty, you give me too much credit. Did you ever think that it isn’t so much that I am good, but that your clientele are horseshit poker players?”
Shorty grimaced. “No, Angel, I’d never think that ‘cuz I know better. It’s those crazy assholes who think they can waltz in here and take down the Ace Angel that are the stupid ones. But, hell, keep ‘em coming. The more they lose, the more they slurp down the booze.”
Gunnar jumped in. “You could help us out a bit, Shorty. We’re gonna be hanging out in this vicinity for a while. We’d appreciate it if you could let us know who’s asking after us more than usual, assholes who are after more than getting their ass kicked by Angel here, if you know what I mean.’
“Damn, Gunnar. It would be my ever lovin’ pleasure. This partner of yours is a money magnet, not just for him, but for whoever is lucky enough to be serving the drunks trying to take him down.” With that he lumbered over to the table that now held three snoring men. He banged on the table with his meat hook sized hands and growled. “You got five minutes to get your piss poor asses out of here before I throw you out.”
Ignoring the whiney protests, Shorty headed back to the bar and dragged out his trusty enforcer, a large iron bar that left nothing to the imagination. The bar, along with Shorty’s girth, could bring even the drunkest men back to the world of the living. As they stumbled out of the bar, Shorty called over to the three men in the corner. “You guys stay here as long as you need to. I
gotta unload some merchandise in the back room.”
Gunnar shifted the conversation back to the issue at hand.
“Who do you want to post on the girl, Gabe? I think Shane is about done with saving that big German, Helmut Crouch’s ass. By the way, we made a hell of a nice profit on that venture. So we got Shane and we can call in Pete and Davy. They’re from around here and won’t attract too much attention. I can head up the team, make sure no one is on to them.”
Gabe eyed his friend and thought about the other men he’d recommended. Like all the men they surrounded themselves with, every one of them was big, good-looking, and had a reputation with women as bad as Gabe’s. Hell, he ought to know. They’d all shared enough women that they knew each other’s prolific skills.
He shook his head. “No, Gunnar, that won’t be necessary. This one’s mine. I’ll handle Ana.”
That declaration brought Eagle out of his reverie. He and Gunnar exchanged a surprised glance, then Gunnar asked the obvious question.
“Hell, Gabe, do you think that is wise? You’re a legend around these parts. Christ, from here to Texas. Think whoever we’re after isn’t going to wonder why you are hanging around Chao Li’s place, not to mention his daughter?”
Eagle was eyeing him as though he was figuring out a puzzle, then a glimmer of understanding flashed in his eyes. Before he could speak, Gunnar caught on.
“Damn. Don’t tell me the mighty Gabe McKenna has succumbed to the charms of one beautiful little Chinese girl? Hell, Gabe, everyone knows she’s a looker, but from what I hear, she’s a prickly one at best. Damn, Gabe. Fathers lock up their daughters when you cross the county line. How the hell can you convince Chao Li to let you sniff around his baby girl?”
Gabe strove for nonchalance, although his gut was rioting at the memory of Chao’s story about Ana’s childhood.
“For better or worse, Chao trusts me. And he knows I’m a wandering man with a wandering eye. He knows that when we clean up this mess, I’ll be on my way and his precious princess can go about finding the handsome prince she deserves.”
He looked up to see his friends staring at him in disbelief.
Gunnar whistled. “Well, I’ll be damned. Never thought I’d see it. Be careful, friend. You may think you got this one under control. But I hear tell it’s the big ones that fall the hardest.”
Gabe bristled at his friend’s warning. It annoyed him that Gunnar thought he might fall for Ana. Gunnar ought to know better; he was the only person who kept as tight a rein on his relationships with women as Gabe did. Gunnar was living down a different devil than Gabe’s. He didn’t have a father like Rory McKenna who had convinced his son that no good woman deserved the McKenna men. No, Gunnar’s past was filled with different demons, but they were just as powerful as Gabe’s.
“Strange as it may seem, Gunnar, my reputation with women may be precisely what makes me the best inside man.” Gabe continued, keeping his voice calm not wanting to give away the anxiety he was feeling, “Sniffing around women is what I do best and you damn well know it. No one is going to be surprised if I make my interest in Ana known.” He grinned. “That’s the real reason we have to wrap up this operation in a week or two at the most. No one will believe that my interest could last longer than that!”
Eagle nodded. “I think you’re right, Gabe.” Pointing to the stack of notes, he shared his first insights from his careful study of the entrails. “These notes point to a couple of things. The most obvious is that this is an inside job. At the very least, someone in Chao’s operation is feeding information to the bad guys. Or it’s even closer than that. These notes reveal too damn much about the man and his family to be just one more fucker Chao skinned at the money trough. Few people know how often we have done work for Chao, but everyone knows that incident from when you were a kid. You’ve got a history with him. It makes total sense that now that his girl is a grown woman, that an unprincipled asshole like you would try to take advantage of her.”
Gabe glared at him. “Thanks — I guess — for understanding the wisdom of my strategy, Eagle. May I assume you didn’t mean to drive that spear as deep as you did?”
Eagle tossed his head. A glimmer of amusement shone in his eyes. “Hell, Gabe, just want to make sure you know that you can fool the rest of the world, but Gunnar and I see right through you. There’s a reason we hooked up. We’re both as unworthy of women like Ana Li as you are, but that won’t stop any of us from going after them.”
Gunnar guffawed and his eyes danced with appreciation. Gabe felt his irritation melt as he looked at the two men who would give their lives for him, as he would them. It had been a fluke that the three of them hooked up. Who would have known that the debacle with Jake Connor’s gang would bring the three young U. S marshals together and push them over the edge? Connor was as evil as they came. Robbery, rape, murder were everyday dalliances for Jake and his gang. Hell, they ate women for breakfast, making their men folk watch before they killed them all.
Gabe headed up the team that finally brought them in, in a daring takedown that was the stuff of legend at the marshal service. But true to the tenor of the times and the rotten core of the marshal service, Connor’s men were out of prison six weeks after they went in. The judge who freed them did so on the good word of the local sheriff, and the head honcho at the California U. S. Marshal’s office. Gabe could have handled the betrayal by his superiors. It was part of the corrupt game played every day when dealing with feared outlaws like Connor and his men. But it was the massacre Connor headed up, burning to death an enclave of Quakers just for the hell of it, that pushed Gabe over the edge. He might have handled the eight men that were killed or even the like number of women, but it was the mutilated bodies of more than a dozen kids that enraged him. After cleaning up the mess and burying the bodies, Gabe walked into the California marshal’s service and threw down his badge. He never looked back.
To his surprise, two weeks later he met Gunnar and Eagle at a poker game in one of the ritziest brothels in San Francisco.
After Gabe had taken everyone’s money and it was just the three of them, he learned that Gunnar and Eagle left the service when he did. They were working undercover for the guy who owned the brothel. The money they were making rivaled Gabe’s earnings from the game.
Two hours later, their partnership was formed and they never looked back. The only rules they followed were that there weren’t any rules. The men they worked for were as dirty as they came and into businesses that most former lawmen would avoid like the plague. That didn’t stop the three former marshals. Bad asses needed protection as much as anyone, and their ability to pay for those services was far better than most.
Within months, the skill and uncompromising violence of the partnership was known among the men who could best pay for it. Gabe’s poker moniker stuck and they became known in the shadows as Angel’s Avengers. Whether it was protecting their property, or avenging real or perceived wrongs, wealthy men who had the wherewithal knew where to look for redress. If it was secrecy they required, and men who were smarter than hell and as violent as their adversaries, they turned to the Avengers.
Their reputation spread among men who themselves inspired fear. But, no matter how corrupt, how powerful the big guy was, he didn’t want to be on the wrong side of Gabe and his team. They might call him Angel, but there wasn’t a devil bad enough, hard enough to match the fearsome skills of the green eyed charmer, whether at the poker table or in the cesspools of the underground.
~~~
Gabe shoved back his chair and rose to his feet. He threw down a fistful of bills and jerked his head toward the back room. “Say good night to Shorty for me. Tell ‘im we appreciate him looking out for us.”
Eagle and Gunnar eyed him without speaking.
Gabe grinned. “It’s not what you think, fellas. I gotta go kick some ass tonight. I need to help a certain Chinese boy learn what it means to be a man, a warrior. If I can’t, he won’t be any good to us or his
sister. And we need him on our team.”
Chapter 10
“Evening, Kai.”
Kai jerked around, startled, peering into the darkness, hunting for him. Gabe smiled to himself. Another lesson to teach the kid. Always keep your back against a tree or another solid surface if you plan to ambush a man. And, he snorted to himself, don’t try to ambush a guy you know in your gut is gonna take you down.
Gabe struck a match, making lazy work of lighting his cigarette. In the glow of the sulfur, he sized up his young adversary. Kai’s face had lost none of the strain he had seen earlier. If anything, his scowl was more ferocious. Shaking his head, Gabe marveled at how easy it was going to be to bring this young warrior down. He thought through his strategy. He needed to hurt the kid, show him the danger of fighting from anger. He also needed to leave visible bruises. Signs for the world to see. More important, the kid needed interior wounds to acknowledge he had been bested by a master.
But, Gabe reminded himself, this was Chao’s son, Ana’s brother. The lessons needed to be tempered with mercy. The purpose was to teach, engage, not crush the kid’s spirit any further.
“Sure you wanna do this in the dark of night, kid? I was looking forward to kicking your ass in front of everyone, including your sister.”
At Kai’s growl, Gabe taunted him further, eager to ratchet up his anger to the boiling point. “Yeah, kid, I think your sister needs to see how a man fights. See me take down a snotty nosed kid who thinks he’s a warrior, but is nothing more than a scared boy trying to prove to the world he’s tough. Yeah, Kai, it’s important that Ana sees who can really protect her, keep her safe.”
Kai face flushed a dark reddish purple, his body vibrated with rage. “You fucking son of a bitch. God damn you! So help me God, you go near my sister again, I’ll kill you!”
Gabe tossed his cigarette, grinding it out with his boot. He saw that Kai was at the breaking point. All he needed to do was tweak him a little more.
