“Do I know you?”
“No, but we have met. You probably remember my lovely wife, Annette. She’s a real kick.”
“You! I ought to kick your ass right now.”
“I assure you that you would find that very difficult. You may be taller and heavier than me, but I am stronger, faster, smarter and more highly trained in killing than you. Just shake my hand if you don’t believe me.”
Bear extended a large, calloused and scarred hand. “Sure, boy. Let’s shake.” A look of surprise flashed momentarily across Bear’s face as he realized that Kyle’s hand was substantially larger than his. That look transformed into a grimace as Kyle began to squeeze, gradually, constantly, shrinking the volume that his hand enclosed. In his mind, Kyle received a text from Bob via an encrypted radio frequency.
“Prepare to drop down,” advised the text followed by, “Drop now!” Kyle let his legs bend at the knees and dropped as he released Bear’s throbbing hand. A whiskey bottle, the kind with a heavy square bottom whistled over his head and hit Bear, bottom first, squarely in the face. As Bear’s head jerked back, Kyle heard in his mind Bob yell, “Jump vertically and to 3 o’clock! Now!” Using computer assist, Kyle sprung up and to the side to get himself out of the path of an any incoming missiles. He spun in the air and landed on his feet facing the table full of Bear’s sidekicks. Before even touching down, from the corner of his eye, Kyle could see a blur pass by him headed in Bear’s direction. Kyle turned his head just in time to see a thick walled glass beer mug hit Bear in the groin. He dropped to his knees holding one hand to his battered face and the other hand over his groin. One of the men at the table reached for a weapon in his boot. A bumblebee stung him on the back of his hand, causing him to jerk back.
“Gentlemen,” Kyle began, raising his palms to face the men. “There is no need for further violence. I didn’t come here to fight. I want to be friends. Besides, Bear is the one you need to worry about now. I am sure that he is not too happy with whoever threw the bottle and the mug. That bee sting was no coincidence. That was my doing. I control a number of nasty little insects buzzing around the room.” Kyle held up a finger and a large bumblebee landed on it. “I don’t like having enemies. I prefer them to be my friends or at least my allies. I recently was rescued from torture and death by a man who had been my worse enemy, a man who tried to kill me and eventually killed my first wife and my best friend. He is not someone that I want to hang out with, but we have a working relationship. Much less has gone down between you and me. Surely, we can create a working relationship. One that would be profitable for you.” Behind and to his left, Kyle heard something being spit to floor. A tooth rested on the floor in a puddle of blood and saliva.
“How would it be profitable?” asked Bear.
“I would pay you a salary, a rather generous salary. In return, I ask two things. One, you engage in no criminal activity. Two, when and if we call for help you come immediately and ready to defend me, my wife and our friends against any and all attackers. You will be each issued a cell phone and you will be required to carry it at all times. We will hold at least four drills a year. Any who fail to appear will be docked pay. Those who do show will receive bonuses, the largest for the first to arrive.”
“Why do you need protection?” asked Bear.
“You know how my wife can get on your bad side? Well she got us both on the bad side of some nasty Middle Eastern terrorists. We didn’t kill all of them and they may be coming after us. I though that maybe you fine men could show them some real American hospitality if they ever show up here. Chances are, you will never have to earn your pay. It’s a lot of money out of my pocket, but money I have. I would like to continue living so that I can enjoy it.” The group all sat down together at the table. Eventually they came to an agreement and worked out the details. Before the week was over, Kyle had the whole gang under contract.
A few weeks later at 4:21 AM, Bob sent out alerts to the cell phones of each gang member. They were instructed to meet at the CompuSonic parking lot. Bear was the first to arrive. An application on his phone showed him the location of each of his associates. Most were already on the way. He began making phone calls to those who were not on the road. Within ten more minutes all, but two had arrived. The other two wandered in within the next hour. Kyle took them all to breakfast where they met Kyle’s friends. The manager of the restaurant brought Kyle a stack of faxes. Bob had calculated the bonuses based on arrival times and fitness to serve. The later was a judgment call based on visual cues. Those who were hung over or otherwise impaired received smaller bonuses than those who were in better physical shape. Kyle handed each man his score sheet and counted out his bonus in cash. Over $10,000 lay on the table. The men compared score sheets like a bunch of boys going over their laser tag score sheets. Even the lowest paid man was happy.
“Gentlemen, Bob, the computer who graded you, is not scoring on a curve. You are not competing against each other and part of your bonus is for you as a group. You get more money if your companions arrive sooner and more prepared to do their job. Next time you will be required to actually do something. Think of yourselves like firemen. It is not enough to just arrive at the fire, you have to have the right equipment, training and conditioning to fight the fire.” Bear raised his hand.
“Can I make a suggestion?”
“Sure Bear. What’s on your mind?”
“The salary that you provide and the bonuses are very generous for doing almost nothing, but they are kinda slim if we want to start families, which some of us do, now that our lives have settled down. We need day jobs that will keep us busy, add to our incomes, but allow us to drop work at a moments notice to come to your aid or these drills. I have a business proposal for you. Each of us is a skilled mechanic and knows motorcycles. I would like to enter into a partnership. I would like to open a business that sells custom motorcycles and services not only custom but all types of motorcycles. We could call it ‘Hell on Wheels Custom Bikes and Trikes’. All we need from you would be the upfront money to get started. We would run the business and provide you a good return on your investment.”
“I’ll consider that proposal,” offered Nate. Within a few months the business was up and running. Nate not only shepherded the business, but he also started teaching the group paramilitary skills. Nate hired a retired member of the US Special Forces to teach classes. As the gang increased in skill, Kyle increased their salaries. Nate encouraged his friends to participate in the training.
Kyle began his residency. He hated how he and Annette were often on different schedules and could spend far less time together. The honeymoon was not over yet, but it had been dealt a severe blow. Now that all of the preparations were complete for their protection from a terrorist assault, Kyle felt like a man living on a small island in the path of a hurricane. He had boarded up the house and was waiting for the fury to unleash. Unfortunately, he did not know when or if the attack would come, but his gut told him that trouble was on its way.
The End
Acknowledgements
Much of the information concerning the CIA was taken directly from their web site at http://www.cia.gov.
About the Author
Lloyd G. Miller is a successful engineer (US patents #6,491,773 and #8,042,594) who started writing as a hobby two decades ago. After writing several novels and spending years refining them, he decided to try publishing. After experiencing creative differences with a publisher who had contracted to publish one of his novels, he decided to publish eBooks through Smashwords. He lives in Utah where most of the story takes place.
Other Novels by Lloyd G. Miller
The author has also written Reckless Brilliance, a sci-fi/coming of age novel to be published as an eBook in the near future and The Sisterhood, a sequel to Reckless Brilliance to be published in the near future.
Contact Information
Email: You can email Lloyd at gmail.com, user name “lloydgeorgemiller”.
Facebook: https://www.faceb
ook.com/lloydgeorgemiller
The Computer Who Loved Me Page 29
