by M. D. Cooper
Reece leaned in close and said in his ear, “You could have used your powers of persuasion and manipulation to rise to the top of the corporate world.”
He put an arm casually around her waist. “So you’ve said, hundreds of times. But then who would have whiskey and a seat at the bar always waiting for you?”
“So you did it all for me?” She laughed, the adrenaline of an upcoming fight lighting her blood.
“Well, that, and I hate corporate types and wouldn’t want them telling me what to do. I much prefer to be my own boss, and there aren’t a lot of ways to make a living at that.”
“True. And you do it so well.” She leaned in close to give him a half hug. “And look, you’re about to have your own hand in training the next generation of corporate thugs. So you’re still contributing.”
“I’d hardly call it that. When are you coming home from that liquor place, anyway?”
“As soon as we wrap this job up.”
“The job with these two?” He hooked a thumb at Reggie and Sequoia.
“No, that’s a tangentially related side thing. I mean the other job.”
“Ah. The job you can’t tell me about, just like you never can, because all those big business secrets.”
“Exactly. We sure went different ways, didn’t we?”
He shook his head. “No. We’re going the same way. Always have been. That just looks like something else for each of us.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he stepped back, patted her on the back and said, “I think it’s time. Go kick some ass.”
Reece paired up with Sequoia. Of the trainees, he was the faster learner. Not that Reggie was doing badly, but Sequoia seemed born to fight dirty. She let him square off first with the cargo haulers Kippy had matched them up with. The smaller opponent stood in first, maybe going with the same strategy of having the less-skilled partner fight first. Clearly, the hauler thought he had young Sequoia’s number, and would make him tag out quickly.
“Hope you’ve got good medical,” he called to Reece. “Hate to see that pretty face all battered.”
“Like I’ve never heard that one before.” Reece rolled her eyes. “The bigger they talk, the faster they lose.”
But Sequoia didn’t tag out. He did just as she’d taught him, ducking the worst of the blows, turning some aside to sneak in a quick jab, and always looking for his opening.
He actually got the first guy to tag out, and that’s when things got interesting. Not only was the second of the pair bigger, but he appeared to have some actual boxing training. He struck hard, fast, and accurately.
Reece expected to have to tag her partner out and drag him out of the way to finish the bout.
Sequoia stuck in there, though, doing his best to avoid those big, punishing punches. He did, mostly, and got in some good jabs. But when someone is outclassed in striking, they have to be able to compensate with grappling or some other technique. Sequoia was running out of time. The impressive thing was that even though everyone knew it, he didn’t tag out. He kept going, bruised and breathing hard, but still giving everything he had.
Reece started to like Sequoia then. When he took a hit to the head that left him reeling, Reece stepped up and tagged him out.
“That’s enough. Go sit.” She nudged him aside, her eyes on her target. She adopted an L stance, leading with her left foot. She’d been watching the boxer’s style, and if she fought left, it would throw him.
They circled, tossing some halfhearted throws to test each other and try to psyche each other out. The guy was decent. With some training, he could work security. Maybe he already had somewhere.
“Don’t give me a black eye, okay?” she said to the guy. “I have a date later.”
Boxer man snorted. “Unless that date’s with me, all I care about is that money.”
“You’re not my type.” She waited for him to throw one of those crushing right crosses he liked. When he did, she dropped low under it and popped up right next to him.
“Peekaboo.” She punched him in the throat. Then she followed that up with a leg sweep while he was choking, putting him on the ground. She went after him, ready to grapple, but Kippy was suddenly there, turning her aside.
“I’m calling this one,” Kippy said. “No serious injuries at the Ringtoad—just a bit of fun. Are the next pairs ready?”
Reece stepped back, trying not to let her disappointment show. She didn’t like not finishing a fight, but she always deferred to Kippy when he called a match. This was his business, after all.
Reggie did not look eager. He looked more like he was regretting the life choices that had led him to that point. To his credit, he pulled himself together and nodded tersely.
Kippy announced, “To keep things fair, our off-world friend here will be allowed to block with his hands, but that’s it. No punches, and no using them to grab.”
Guffaws went around, and Reece had to admit that she was eager to see how this would go.
She shrugged her jacket back on and took a seat, wishing she had a whiskey.
Kippy stood behind her and gestured to a server, who came over with a tray. He thanked the server, took the glass, and pressed it into Reece’s hand.
“Why you think this is fun, I’ve never known,” he said.
“You’ve never minded taking a cut on the betting,” she pointed out.
“I blame Markey’s influence.” He grinned down at her, standing just behind her shoulder. “Also, my poor upbringing. It’s hard to say no to easy money.”
She watched Reggie face off against the larger of his two opponents. They started to circle each other. “That’s not entirely true. You don’t cheat. You don’t steal. You never have.”
“Shh, someone will hear you.” He poked her shoulder.
She laughed. “Pretty sure word’s already out. You’re a good guy. There’s a reason the Ringtoad is so popular, and it’s not because you pour a good drink—which you do.”
“Stop, you’ll make me blush.”
Fists started flying and Reece got involved in watching Reggie. He was too stiff. Too textbook. He was doing all the expected things, and none of the surprising things. As a result, his opponent was getting in a pretty good beating. Not enough to do more than cause bruising and a split lip, but the beating just kept going on. Reece turned to see if Kippy was about to call the fight, but he’d slipped away, probably to tend the bar.
No doubt he was watching the fight, though, making sure it didn’t go too far. He had a knack for that. Maybe it was all the years of practice she’d given him.
“Tag out,” Reece called to Reggie. He wasn’t ready for this.
But then he feinted a punch and instead drove a fist right into the guy’s groin, square on.
The guy froze, then fell.
“Way to punch him in the dick!” Reece called. She received a few dirty looks for that, but she didn’t care. Winning was winning. Reggie wouldn’t get any points from his employer for letting someone breach security after adhering to a fair fight.
There was nothing fair about fighting.
Then Trey moved in against the other guy on the opposite team, and Reece started laughing.
Watching an augmented human fight with only his legs and shoulders was a sight to behold.
She had to give Trey’s opponent credit. He approached the fight methodically and intelligently. Since Trey couldn’t use his fists, he moved in close, to make kicking nearly impossible.
That didn’t stop Trey.
Trey leaped into the air and punched the guy in the face with his shoulder.
His shoulder.
Reece wished she had a recording of that. What had she been thinking? She activated her Link and opened a channel to record a livestream directly from her frame of vision.
Sometimes it was the little things that made life worth living.
Trey took a few hard hits but appeared to be unfazed. He drove his knee into his opponent’s chest, making him stumble back
a step.
That gave Trey all the room he needed. He took the opportunity to step back a pace then launched a wicked roundhouse kick that caught his foe right in the jaw.
The guy’s head snapped back and down he went, his body entirely limp. Trey, astutely recognizing that the fight was over, used his hands to catch the unconscious man and gently lower him to the ground. He then leaned over and checked the guy over.
He seemed satisfied, standing tall and nodding.
“Our second winning team!” Kippy announced. “What a night. All bets will be paid out when you cash out your bill for the night. Servers will be coming around with some trays of complimentary snacks to celebrate. Enjoy the evening! You never know when it’s your last.”
Reece checked in with Reggie and Sequoia to congratulate them, patted Trey on the back, and went to see Kippy. He stood pouring drinks at the bar, joking and laughing as he did.
She sidled up and sat in her chair. “A little melodramatic, don’t you think? That last bit about not knowing when it’s your last night.”
He grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Oh, sure, a little. But melodrama gets people excited, and excited people buy more drinks.”
“Ah, so it’s a business practice.”
He said nothing, instead giving a faux modest shrug.
“You’re very cute, you know,” she said. “Well, of course you know. It’s how you rake in the tips.”
He looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Are you just now noticing that?”
“What, that you’re cute, or that you use your cuteness to earn money?”
“The first thing.” He pulled a towel off his shoulder and dropped it to the bar, but instead of wiping it down, the leaned forward on his elbows.
“I always thought you were cute.” She peered at him curiously.
“Like, little brother cute, or cute cute?”
She sat back and crossed her arms. “The regular kind. You know that. There’s no way you don’t know that you’re gorgeous.”
Rather than joking, like he should have, he looked thoughtful. “I know what other people think. I know what I think. But I don’t know what you think. At least, I didn’t, until now.”
She frowned. “You’re being weird. Are you actually being philosophical, or are you messing with me?”
A little frown appeared between his eyebrows. It was a tiny thing that probably no one else would recognize, but she knew it meant he was disappointed.
Why would he be disappointed?
He straightened and began wiping down the bar. At least that was more normal behavior.
“Nope.” He glanced up at her. “One hundred percent not messing with you. It just seems to me that, after living all your life at maximum speed, you might be starting to slow down.”
That didn’t sound like a good thing to her. “Are you saying I’m getting old and losing my edge?”
He sighed, but the sigh was accompanied by a fond smile. “Hardly. I’m saying you’re finally starting to notice what’s really around you. That’s good. That’s progress. There’s hope for you yet.”
“I feel like you’re teasing me, but you look entirely serious.”
“I am serious.” He set a glass on the bar, then reached underneath and pulled out that old familiar, beautiful bottle. The one with the black label with silver writing, straight from Hatchet and Pipe Distillery.
He poured her a tumbler of whiskey. “I’m just saying I think you’re impressive. And beautiful. And we’re not kids anymore.”
“That’s true. You’re going to be twenty-eight next month, and my birthday’s the month after. How did we get so old?”
“We’re hardly old. But, like I said, we aren’t kids anymore. And we’re not poor anymore, either. We’ve both worked hard and done well.”
She reached out impetuously and grabbed his hand between both of hers. “We have. It’s not easy for people to dig their way out of the dirt here, but we helped each other get out of all that. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time I stopped doing fights like this.”
“Is that what I said?” he asked, amused.
“No. But you like to let me come to my conclusions, and you’re probably right. We should probably stop picking fights and find a new way to entertain your guests. Maybe some cross-marketing with Marky’s.”
“Now there’s a thought.” He picked up her glass and gulped half of it.
Reece laughed in surprise. He never drank while working. “Are we toasting on it?”
“Yeah. I guess so. Bottoms up.”
She didn’t need to hear that twice. She lifted the glass and drained it.
“Ahhh.” She exhaled long and slow, blowing out the burn of the whiskey. “You know, you should meet Nizhoni.”
“Is she nice?”
“No! She’s prickly and foul-mouthed. But Trey likes her, so maybe you would, too.”
“I take it she doesn’t care for you?” he asked.
“Not at all. She barely tolerates me, even after I helped her clean up after…” she trailed off. She couldn’t talk about an open case. She’d already said more than she should have just in mentioning Nizhoni. “Well. I’ll give you the details soon.”
“Anything to do with the explosion at her distillery that I heard about?” Kippy asked.
Reece gave a slow shrug, a look in her eyes that said she couldn’t say anything further.
He nodded. Over the years he’d gotten used to her being unable to talk about some things. “I understand. Looking forward to hearing more when you can share it. Must be pretty exciting.”
“I wish you worked at Rexcare with me. Then I could talk about everything with you.” She tipped her glass up on edge and rolled it, hoping he’d refill it.
He didn’t, but he smiled. “The fact that you want to is good enough for me.”
She looked over her shoulder to Trey and her trainees. “I should get back to them.”
Kippy grinned. “You might be just starting to change a little, but you’re still a workaholic.”
“What can I say? I do what I love. So do you.” She held up her fist and knocked it against his.
“Good luck with whatever it is you have going on.”
She pumped her fist in the air emphatically before turning away.
Trey sat at a table with Sequoia and Reggie.
“You’re not letting them get drunk, are you?” Reece asked as she approached. “They have work to do tomorrow. And every day after that until they’re up to snuff.”
“I thought we did pretty well tonight,” Reggie said.
“Okay for a first time,” she allowed. “But you won’t graduate from Reece’s School of Security until you can take on two worthy opponents all by yourself. That’s when I’ll consider you minimally viable for your role at Smooth.”
“I almost got there,” Sequoia said.
Reggie said nothing but didn’t argue with Reece’s decree.
“You did well tonight,” Trey allowed. “But these people are just whoever happened to be here. I’m pretty sure Reece will be more selective for your final exam.”
Reece nodded in confirmation, which didn’t result in cheers of happiness. Quite the opposite, actually.
“Don’t look so glum,” she said. “You did well. You’re coming right along. And you don’t have to be nearly as good as I am to work security. Smooth isn’t even a corporation. It’s a starting point on your climb up the ladder. But you’re on your way. You’re both going to get there.”
They both looked heartened by that.
Trey raised his hand to his face. “That was quite a pep talk. Brought to a tear to my eye.”
Reece sighed in exasperation. She noted each of the three men had a glass in front of him. “How many drinks have you had?”
“One.” Reggie seemed pleased to be able to report such a low number.
“Okay,” Reece said. “One more, on me, and we’ll get out of here. Tomorrow morning, you two will get up and go on a run, just like usual.�
�
“What about you?” Sequoia asked.
“What about me?” She looked at him curiously.
“You haven’t been doing this conditioning work. Shouldn’t you come with us?”
Trey perked up. “Yeah. Shouldn’t you?”
“I’m already pre-conditioned,” she pointed out. “I just don’t do conditioning while I’m working a job.”
She waved a server over and ordered their drinks, considering the matter closed.
But Sequoia persisted. “Shouldn’t you, if you’re training us?”
She stared at him. “Are you sure you really, really want that?”
After a moment, her meaning sank in and Sequoia appeared to rethink his argument. “No, I suppose not. We’ll carry on as we have been.”
The server arrived with the drinks. Reece sipped hers, savoring the flavor. She glanced over and saw Kippy at the bar. It felt like a good night to her. She had a defined target to get her job done, and her side job at Smooth was going along well. Plus, she’d gotten to have a little fighting fun and had hung out with Kippy.
Yes, all in all, it had been a good night. She just needed to carry that positive vibe forward and finish this job.
RESEARCH
DATE: 05.13.8948 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Ohiyo, Akonwara
REGION: Machete System, PED 4B, Orion Freedom Alliance
After sending Sequoia, Reggie, and Trey on to Smooth, Reece took a short walk to visit Aunt Ruth. Although she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, Reece worried about her.
Opening the front door, she called, “Aunt Ruth?”
No gameshows played on the sim, and the house was quiet. Odd. Maybe Aunt Ruth wasn’t home. She probably should have called first, but the older woman usually preferred to stay in at night. They’d spoken earlier in the day and all had still been well.
Maybe she’d gone to bed early. Reece tiptoed up the stairs. As she got to the top, something came flying around the corner. She jerked back, almost falling down the stairs.
An unhappy ball of cream-colored fur glared at her, his tail swishing.
“Rio. You naughty thing. I thought you were a burglar or something. She bent and scooped up the feline, holding him against her chest and rubbing his ears.
