by Derek Slaton
He hesitated, but then nodded in his exhaustion. “Okay, but if you find anything, or if I can do anything at all, no matter how small, then you wake me up.”
She smiled. “Just hit go on the coffee maker and I’ll be good.”
Hodge shot Artemis a thumbs up before making his way towards the makeshift bed. He crashed out to the sound of furious keystrokes.
CHAPTER TEN
The sun peeked through the drawn blinds at the office, reflecting gently off of Artemis’ stained coffee mug. She was still typing away when Hodge awoke from his short nap.
“Ugh, what time is it,” he asked, wandering over to her desk.
She glanced at the corner of her screen. “About nine.”
“You had any luck tracking him down?” He ran a hand through his hair, yawning painfully.
“Not really,” she replied. She picked up her coffee mug and waved it in Hodge’s general direction as a signal for a refill. “The first sign of him I have is six weeks from now in Rhode Island when he gets a job as the Chief of Staff for a member of the US House.”
“Great,” he said, returning with an extra mug and the full pot of coffee. “Then we just have a road trip and get him in six weeks.”
She shook her head. “By then it’ll be too late. He’ll be in the public eye, surrounded by security. Not to mention Duke and his henchmen.”
“I’m guessing Duke didn’t show up either?” he asked as he refilled her mug.
She inclined her head in thanks and took a sip. “Nope, they are both completely off the grid until six weeks from now.”
He sat on his favorite corner of the desk and nursed his coffee for a beat before something clicked in his brain. “Wait, what about the henchmen? Can we track him through them?”
“It’s unlikely, since Rudo doesn’t keep people around him very long,” she replied. “After a few days of work, he’ll pay them off with a couple of hot sports betting tips so they can make a fortune. He also lets them know if they talk it won’t be that difficult for him to track them down, so they obey and keep quiet about it.”
He shrugged. “You have a better idea?”
She paused and then shook her head. “Nope, I don’t. Okay, so what do we know about these two?”
“I heard Duke call them Pete and Rocco, and one of them had a facial scar,” Hodge replied, running a finger down his cheek.
Artemis sighed. “It could take days to find a match, and we don’t have that kind of time.”
“Let me make a call,” he said, and pulled out his phone. “I have a C.I. who owes me a few favors. If these guys have been active in the area he might be able to help out. Just a word of warning though, he’s a bit salty.”
“Don’t worry, I’m R-Rated.” She winked at him and then turned back to the computer.
Hodge dialed the phone and put it on speaker. It rang multiple times before a groggy voice on the other end finally answered.
“What?”
The Agent leaned over his phone. “Hey Jimbo, it’s Hodge. Listen, I need a favor.”
“Motherfucker it’s nine in the goddamn morning. Don’t you know people like me sleep in the daytime?” Jimbo barked.
“I’m sorry man, if I had any other options I would take them. I kind of got a life or death situation over here.”
“Dude save me your sob story. Just get to the point so I can go back to bed. My bitches are getting cold.”
Hodge nodded. “Alright, I’m looking for a guy I had a run-in with last night. Rough looking dude, has a nasty scar on his left cheek, goes by either Pete or Rocco.”
“Quiet dude who looks like he’s gotten his ass kicked a few too many times?”
“Yeah that sounds about right,” the Agent replied.
“That sounds like Rocco Giovani, AKA Rocky G. Used to run some errands for me a while back till he fucked me over and I had to show him the door,” Jimbo drawled.
“Thanks, Jimbo, you’re awesome.”
“Yo, you just looking to put a name to a face or are you looking to actually get your hands on this dude?”
Hodge’s brow furrowed. “Why, you know how I can track him down?”
“The easiest way to find him is to find where his girl’s band is playing. They are some loud angry metal band called Valkyrie’s Revenge.”
“I appreciate the tip, but given the high level shit he’s into I don’t know if he’s going to be hitting the clubs for a concert,” the Agent replied and shook his head.
“My man, you don’t understand,” Jimbo said slowly. “This guy is at every one of his girl’s gigs. Motherfucker was three hours late with a delivery to me because he stopped by the club to watch her play. I mean this bitch ripped his nuts off and has them displayed on the mantle. Doesn’t even have the decency to put them in her purse, just right there above the fireplace. Hell, she even shows them off to her friends and everything. I know we’ve all had that one girl who drove us crazy, but there’s being into a girl, being pussy whipped, and then there’s whatever the fuck this kid is. Trust me, if his girl is playing a show, he’s gonna be there.”
Hodge nodded. “Thanks, Jimbo.”
“Yeah yeah, I know. Just remember this shit next time I get busted.”
“Consider me your get out of jail free card.”
“He seems like a lovely fellow,” Artemis said as he ended the call.
Hodge chuckled. “Yeah, he’s not exactly the kind of guy you invite over for Thanksgiving dinner, but in a case like this he’s invaluable.”
She pulled up the web page for the band. “Alright, found Valkyrie’s Revenge. And… damn, no shows for a couple of weeks.”
He cocked his head. “What if… what if we book them? I mean doesn’t Robert own one of the most famous metal bars in the city?”
She turned to him, eyebrows rising to her hairline. “So the plan is to book this band on the slight hope that they accept, Rocco the scar faced douchebag shows up and we are able interrogate him as to where Rudo is hiding?”
“Yeah I know, it’s thin.” He winced.
“It’s anorexic ballerina thin. But it’s the best we got.” She sighed. “I’ll make the call.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Artemis played solitaire on the computer while Hodge paced back and forth.
“So what’s the plan if the band can’t play tonight?” he asked, breaking the apprehensive silence that had fallen after the phone call.
“Buy some property in the desert and build a Biodome?” She shrugged. “Pretty sure we could even get Pauly Shore to join us. He seems like the kind of guy that would do anything for money these days.”
He cracked a smile, and stopped pacing to look at her. “Do me a favor, if I ever meet Brent please remind me to ask him what he was thinking by allowing Pauly Shore to have a career.”
“You should have seen the guy who was popular before him. It was one of the few times I’ve ever requested Brent straight up murder an entertainer,” she replied, spinning her chair around.
“Yikes.” He winced. “He must have been unbearable.”
“Just imagine the worst YouTube prankster, but with multi-million dollar budgets.”
He nodded. “Sounds like justifiable homicide in my book.”
Her phone trilled a ring, and she looked at the screen.
“It’s Robert, so fingers crossed,” she said, and answered the call. “Give me some good news, Rob.”
“The girl screamed so loudly when I said I needed them to play tonight that I’m pretty sure I went deaf in one ear,” he replied.
Artemis smiled. “So I’m guessing that’s a yes?”
“They go on at 8. Bring earplugs.”
“Thanks Robert,” she said, and then ended the call. “Okay, Hodge we are on. Eight o’clock tonight.”
Hodge threw his fist into the air in triumph. “Hell yeah. So what do we do in the meantime? We have eight hours to kill.”
“Need to make a stop and gear up,” she said.
He raise
d an eyebrow. “Why don’t you keep your gear here?”
“You don’t spend years waging a guerrilla war against the Nazi war machine in Germany and other occupied territories without adhering to the worst case scenario mentality,” she explained. “By the end of the war I had dozens of safe houses and stashes set up across Europe. Been doing the same here in the States ever since I got back, some of which are better equipped than others. The stuff I keep on hand here works great for small timers like Kevin Hauser and those douchebags in the woods, but we are about to take on a much, much tougher foe.”
“Makes sense to me. So where do we need to go?” he asked.
She grinned. “How do you feel about Chinese food?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Austin was like most major cities where ethnic communities would move into a small neighborhood and make it their own. The Chinese district was just north of downtown and thrived thanks to the influx of college students from UT. Most of the stores and restaurants in this district catered to their English speaking audience by offering English language menus, however the Chinese eatery that Artemis led Hodge into did not. It didn’t even have an English language sign on the outside, so it was no surprise that they were the only two Americans in the place.
A young Chinese man walked towards them and spoke in Mandarin. Hodge smiled and nodded, while Artemis nodded and responded with fluency. The Agent gaped in amazement as the two of them went back and forth for a few moments before the young man showed them to a table, handed them a menu then walked off.
“When the hell were you going to tell me you spoke Mandarin?” Hodge asked as he sat down.
She shrugged as she scanned the menu. “I can speak every language actually.”
“Come again? How is that possible?” His jaw dropped.
“Some amazing future tech that came about 20 years ago,” she said. “Little device about the size of a grain of rice that is implanted behind the ear, automatically translates every language and actually takes over the speech center of my brain and allows me to respond in the appropriate language.”
“Do you have another one of those? That sounds amazing!” he exclaimed.
She shook her head. “Sorry, but it was custom made for me. Plus in your line of work it could very easily get you in trouble.”
“How so? I would think that being able to speak the language of whoever I’m interviewing would be a huge positive.”
“Well once it’s implanted the translator doesn’t have an off switch,” she began. “So let me see if I can spell it out for you in a culturally sensitive manner as to why that’s an issue. Imagine if you have to interview a couple of very enthusiastic rap fans, and they are speaking a lot of slang. What do you think their reaction would be to a middle aged white man responding in the same manner?”
“Point taken,” he agreed as the waiter dropped off a duffle bag at his companion’s feet. “What’s this?”
“My gear,” Artemis replied, not even looking up from the menu. She spoke to the waiter in Mandarin again before glancing at Hodge. “What would you like?”
He stared blankly at the menu, unable to make heads or tails of it. “Why don’t you order for me? Something with chicken, please.”
She rattled off something to the waiter and smiled as she handed him the menus.
“So what’s in the bag?” Hodge asked.
“In due time my friend. In due time,” she said with a wink. “So, you have any ideas on how to play the concert?”
He nodded. “It’s going to be difficult to interrogate him in the middle of a show, so we are going to need to get him isolated. Is there a back room we could use?”
“Not really. Robert has a couple of people who work in the back room running drinks up, and it’s the only pathway to the back smoking patio,” she replied.
“Guess it’s going to have to be the bathroom then,” he groaned. “If we can get him in there during the show it should be empty, and one of us can stand guard while the other finds out where Rudo and Duke are.”
Artemis shrugged. “So we just have to get a guy into the bathroom. Doesn’t sound like that difficult of a task, especially when compared to everything else we’ve done.”
“Cheers to that,” he agreed, and raised his glass. They toasted as the waiter showed up with dinner, setting down a full chicken covered in a mysterious red sauce. He stared at it warily. After she tore off a leg and bit into it, he shrugged and dug in.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The walls of Tate’s Bar shook as Valkyrie’s Revenge worked their way through their first song, Justice Through Destruction. Artemis and Hodge approached the front door and paused to game plan.
“Robert texted me a few minutes ago and said our boy is there,” she said, peering in through the front window. “It looks like a fairly packed house tonight, so we should be able to slip in without him seeing us.”
He nodded. “Any ideas on how to get him to the bathroom?”
“Robert says he is hanging out near the back by the soundboard. Apparently his girl doesn’t want him distracting her during the show so he can’t be within her eyesight.” She chuckled.
He raised an eyebrow. “She sounds like a real keeper.”
“You’d be amazed what men will go through to be with a hot tattooed guitar player in a metal band,” she replied. “As far as getting him back there without dragging him through the crowd and causing a commotion, I might have an idea. When we go in head to the right and go wait in the bathroom.”
“You got it,” he said, and then paused as he opened the door. “Hey, can I borrow your laser pen of doom? Might help with the interrogation.”
She tossed it to him with a warning glance. “I want that back, just so you know.”
He winked and nodded and disappeared inside.
Artemis waited a beat before following, and headed straight for the bar. Robert celebrated her arrival by sliding a glass of whiskey to her. She took a few sips and turned to check out the band, who was doing a great job of getting the crowd riled up with moshing and stage diving. On a normal night Robert would have put a stop to the diving, but there were more important things to attend to.
“Hey Robert, I need two large beers,” a thirty-something blonde waitress yelled out from the counter. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, shirt stained from multiple spilled drinks, the look in her eyes was that of a combat vet who had watched his friends blown apart by the enemy. A typical look of someone who has spent at least a decade in customer service.
The bartender nodded to her. “Coming right up.”
Artemis slid over a couple of seats and took up position right beside the waitress. “Hey sweetie, you doing okay this evening?” she asked.
“Darlin’ it’s one of those nights. I can handle having my ass grabbed on a regular night, but this moshing bullshit is the worst when you are carrying a tray full of drinks,” the waitress replied.
“Yikes, I’m sorry. I tell you what though, I think I know a way to make your evening a whole lot better.”
“Honey I’ll be honest, you’re hot as hell but after nights like this I just don’t have the energy for what you have in mind,” the waitress replied as she placed the two large beers on her tray.
Artemis chuckled. “That’s not quite what I had in mind. Actually, I need a small favor from you. A favor I’m willing to tip very generously for.”
The waitress leaned up against the bar, ignoring her tray of drinks. “Okay, I’m listening.”
“You see that guy over there next to the soundboard? The one with the face scar?” The time traveler asked, and the woman nodded, glancing across the dance floor. “He hit on me pretty hard the other night, and it turns out his girlfriend is the guitar player in the band.”
“That cheating bastard. I fucking hate men like that,” the waitress spat, bristling.
“Yeah, they are indeed the worst. I was hoping you could help teach him a lesson, so I thought you could baptize him with those beers ther
e. And don’t worry, Robert and I are tight, so he’ll be okay with it.” She pointed at the bartender who responded with a thumbs up.
“Honey, my ex cheated on me, and let me tell you, I ain’t gonna stand for it. I’ll douse him with beer. Hell, I’ll shank his ass if you want. Make it look like an accident.”
“Woah woah, dial it back hon,” Artemis said as she put her hand on her new friend’s shoulder to calm her. “I think the beer shower will be good enough for now. Once you soak him, tell him there are some fresh towels in the bathroom. I have a friend waiting in there to teach him a lesson.”
“Oh is it a gay friend? Cause I know a guy that’ll pay good money if you can get that on tape.”
Artemis stared blankly at the waitress for a moment, trying to comprehend the request. After a moment they both looked over to Robert who motions for the waitress to go. She nodded and flounced off with her tray.
“Wow,” Artemis said.
Robert laughed. “Yeah, I know, but she shows up on time, works hard, and like to wear low cut tops.”
“Dude, you’re old enough to be her great, great, great, grandfather.” She raised an eyebrow at him.
“Hey don’t judge me.” He put his hands up. “I own a dive bar and start drinking at nine in the morning. Being a dirty old man is just the next logical stop on my chosen life path.”
She shook her head and shot back the rest of her drink as the waitress approached her target. Rocco nodded his head to the beat, oblivious to what was about to happen to him. The waitress walked by the last table between him and her and pretended to trip over the chair.
Instead of simply dropping the tray on him, she launched it several feet in an exaggerated pratfall worthy of an entry level community college improv comedy class. While she lacked style points, her aim was on target as the full contents of both beers landed squarely on Rocco.
“What the fuck you stupid bitch!” Rocco screeched, furiously wiping at his face.
“Oh my god sir, I’m so sorry,” the waitress cooed. “I tripped over the chair and I, I mean, I’m just so, so sorry.”
