It took them a few minutes to set up but once they were finished, Taylor, Banks, and the hunter all hitched themselves to the ropes and were wound into the choppers that were held steady by the patient pilots until everyone was on board.
"Okay, I get to decide my own fee for this mission, right?" Taylor asked. "I decide how much I want to be paid and send you guys an invoice along with all the expenses or something."
"Sure," Banks replied as the helicopters turned to head back.
"So, my thought is that…you know, with more than one monster and doing most of the work myself, I should probably make far more than your average contract, right?"
"That sounds about right," she said, seemingly distracted.
"With all that said, I think the reasonable rate for this mission is about sixty grand. What do you say?"
"It sounds fair. Send us the invoice when we get back."
He paused and let a moment of silence pass between them.
"I really thought you would offer more resistance to the price tag," he said finally.
"You did good work out here today. Far be it from me to keep you from getting paid a fair amount."
"Good. Because it was good work that I did out here."
"That's what I said."
"And don't you forget it."
Chapter Thirty-Three
"No, I'm not calling it Mechs-R-Us," Taylor said and looked up sharply from the piece he was working on at the table.
"I'm only saying you haven't come up with a good name yet so we might as well choose a name that's marketable and go with that until we get a better one," Bungees replied. "Mechs-R-Us has a ring to it that people will recognize. It's nostalgic, you know?"
"Our marketability won't be based on the fucking name." He narrowed his eyes. "It’ll be based on the fact that we do good work in a market that has all kinds of demand but no supply. That's what's marketable about it."
"I'm only saying think about it. You need to be open to new ideas once in a while, you know that?"
"Yeah, well, that's not a new idea," he snapped. "That's trying to cash in on an old one."
"Disney's done that for years and they're still making billions."
"Well, we're not Disney."
It was an argument but not one that would prove problematic. The two of them had tried to think of a name for the company for as long as they had been open and still hadn't settled on one they both liked, not even during the couple of weeks since the mission in the Appalachians.
Banks had been true to her word and paid what he asked for and on time. That gave them what they needed to continue with the renovations to the strip mall while they worked on the mech suits that had been shipped in from the Zoo.
It had been good, hard work, but they had finished them on time and sent them out without hiking the bill too high. Now, they waited to hear how the mercs liked the work. Everything was reliant on this first job and if they liked it, they would refer them to the others in the Zoo.
If they didn't, he might as well cash out and move on.
Still, he was confident with what they'd managed to do. The suits had arrived in almost irreparable condition, and thanks to Bobby's ingenuity, they'd cut down on dead weight by twenty-percent, repaired all the armor, and added a couple of the magnetic coil alterations on top of that. They’d also managed to keep costs below what they would charge out there in the Zoo, even when factoring in the shipping.
The suits worked better than ever and the invoice sent billed the mercs a little over thirty grand apiece for the work and the pieces they needed.
"We will probably never be finished with this place," Bobby said. "What's the point of naming it anyway if it'll crumble around us the whole time?"
"Don't be melodramatic," Taylor retorted. "The prefab they built this with will outlast you, me, and probably the rest of this damn country. I swear to God, they could nuke us all and in a million years, aliens will come along and still find this building standing."
"Now who's being melodramatic?" his friend challenged and ducked when a handful of bolts were thrown his way.
"I'm going to look to see if they've sent word on the suits," Taylor said, moved away from the worktable, and stretched his back. "The shit should have been there for a few hours by now so they should have something to say, at least. Are you good to keep working here?"
"I'm only playing around with Liz. It's not rocket science."
"Yeah, well, you've tried to stick nitrous up her ass so it might end up being rocket science," he yelled over his shoulder as he wandered out of the garage and into the grocery store. They had put considerable work into the whole building, but Bobby was right. It would take forever to get it into perfect condition.
Hell, he didn't know if it was even possible to do so but damned if he wouldn’t try. He felt he owed it to this little place if it would be both his home and his place of business. His friend had even suggested he move in as well, and that actually wasn’t a bad idea.
He would obviously take the rent out of the guy's paycheck, so it had advantages.
Taylor still needed to think about what kind of vehicle he should choose as a city alternative to Liz, and more and more, he liked the idea of a motorcycle. There were Harley shops in the city where he could maybe buy something used and work on it like he had with Liz.
His gaze settled on the laptop and the new messages that waited for them. He wasn't too surprised to see that some them were from the merc companies in the Zoo.
"Mechs have exceeded expectations." He read the short note out loud. "Invoice payment outgoing. Looking forward to doing more business with Mech Repair Taylor McFadden in the future."
Mech Repair Taylor McFadden was the name he had used as a stand-in for the paperwork. It was even worse than Mechs-R-Us, in his opinion.
"We'll need more help," Taylor said as he scanned the future orders they were considering them for.
Another message waited for him with no address and no title.
It was short and to the point. Pick your damn phone up!
He could guess who it was from, though. There weren't too many people in the world who could leave a message like that in his inbox.
Sure enough, there were fifteen missed calls on the phone he hadn't taken into the shop with him.
He had no sooner picked the phone up when it rang again.
"McFadden here."
"Taylor, it’s nice to talk to you again," Desk said. "How are things with your business."
"Never better," he replied. "How can I help you, Desk?"
"There's a job in California," she said. "Hollywood Hills, in fact. Are you interested?"
Taylor looked at the orders coming to them from the Zoo and grinned.
They would definitely need more help.
"Send me the details. I'm on my way."
Silent Death
The story continues with Silent Death, coming January 23rd, 2020.
"Vickie, would you mind answering that?" Taylor asked, soldering gun already in hand and glasses in place to keep him from blinding himself.
"Sure," she said, picking the receiver up from the cradle. "Who the hell has a landline these days?"
"We the hell do," Taylor grumped. "Answer the phone."
He could almost hear her eyes rolling as she pressed the receiver to the side of her head. "McFadden's Mechs, how can I help you?"
It wasn't a great name, but he wasn't going to be complaining, turning to his work, but keeping an ear out for the conversation, or the one side of it that he could hear.
"What?" Vickie asked. "No, I'm not a secretary. Why, are you a janitor? I mean, yeah, all janitors are men, right, so all men must be janitors, are you kidding me right now?"
Taylor raised an eyebrow. Maybe work could wait. He wanted to hear what Vickie had to say to whomever was calling her.
"Yes, it was a sexist question, thanks for asking," Vickie replied. "Now, do you want to try again? Hi, this is Vickie from McFadden's Mechs, how can
I help you not be a sexist a-hole this afternoon?"
Well, that was one way to go about it.
Taylor could hear the man on the other line laughing, which was better than them getting offended and hanging up, sure, but Taylor pushed himself up from where he was working and walking over to where she was still on the phone.
Special Agent Niki Banks has called in a favor, and now Taylor has a young hacker with an attitude as an employee. Along with new monsters to kill, a business to get off the ground, a relationship with an annoying FBI Handler to ... deal with Taylor is becoming a surrogate male figure for a role he didn't want.
But may be the best man for the job.
Pre-order your copy new for delivery on January 23, 2020
Author Notes
January 15, 2020
Thank you for reading this story far enough to find my author notes in the back!
Cryptid Assassin is 'edgier Michael Anderle' writing where the door might not be open to the bedroom, but it isn't closed, and adults talk about things that adults talk (and kid) about.
Plus cussing…lots and lots of cussing.
Because (and this is only a personal opinion) cussing is fucking hilarious at times. Also, in my group of friends, a bunch use it like salt for spicing.
For example (from https://english.stackexchange.com/questions/155664/how-many-different-parts-of-speech-can-the-f-word-be-used-as )
· Noun: "Fuck you, you fuck."
· Pronoun: "I hit fuck over there with a baseball bat."
· Adjective: "And they leave a fuck stain on my couch."
· Verb: "They fuck all the time."
· Adverb: "She fuck(ing) screams so loud, I got a noise complaint."
· Conjunction: "I take Viagra, fuck I last all night."
· Preposition: "Come fuck me later."
· Interjection: "Fuck! I stubbed my toe."
Below is a transcript from a video link provided by Tilak which was variously attributed to Osho, or George Carlin, and even from across the pond to Monty Python.
• Ignorance: Fucked if I know.
• Trouble: I guess I am fucked now!
• Fraud: I got fucked at the used car lot.
• Aggression: Fuck you!
• Displeasure: What the fuck is going on here?
• Difficulty: I can't understand this fucking job.
• Incompetence: He is a fuck-off.
• Suspicion: What the fuck are you doing?
• Enjoyment: I had a fucking good time.
• Request: Get the fuck out of here.
• Hostility: I'm going to knock your fucking head off.
• Greeting: How the fuck are you?
• Apathy: Who gives a fuck?
• Innovation: Get a bigger fucking hammer.
• Surprise: Fuck! You scared the shit out of me!
• Anxiety: Today is really fucked.
Further, I'll end with this research link which shows that "Swearing is Actually a Sign of More Intelligence – Not Less."
https://www.sciencealert.com/swearing-is-a-sign-of-more-intelligence-not-less-say-scientists
With the obligatory summation of the research:
Instead, swearing appears to be a feature of language that an articulate speaker can use in order to communicate with maximum effectiveness. And actually, some uses of swearing go beyond just communication.
So, please provide a good fucking review if you would like for either this book, or another favorite fucking author and have a fucking great weekend coming up!
Michael Anderle
Connect with The Authors
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Other Zoo Books
BIRTH OF HEAVY METAL
He Was Not Prepared (1)
She Is His Witness (2)
Backstabbing Little Assets (3)
Blood Of My Enemies (4)
Get Out Of Our Way (5)
APOCALYPSE PAUSED
Fight for Life and Death (1)
Get Rich or Die Trying (2)
Big Assed Global Kegger (3)
Ambassadors and Scorpions (4)
Nightmares From Hell (5)
Calm Before The Storm (6)
One Crazy Pilot (7)
One Crazy Rescue (8)
One Crazy Machine (9)
One Crazy Life (10)
One Crazy Set Of Friends (11)
One Crazy Set Of Stories (12)
SOLDIERS OF FAME AND FORTUNE
Nobody’s Fool (1)
Nobody Lives Forever (2)
Nobody Drinks That Much (3)
Nobody Remembers But Us (4)
Ghost Walking (5)
Ghost Talking (6)
Ghost Brawling (7)
Ghost Stalking (8)
Ghost Resurrection (9)
Ghost Adaptation (10)
Ghost Redemption (11)
Ghost Revolution (12)
THE BOHICA CHRONICLES
Reprobates (1)
Degenerates (2)
Redeemables (3)
Thor (4)
Hired Killer (Cryptid Assassin Book 1) Page 26
