Confidence Game

by Britt Ringel

  “More like hoped,” the man countered acerbically. “The only nice thing about On Margin’s bust was that you got caught up in it.” He waved Lochlain forward and orbited his great bulk in a large circle. “Walk this way.”

  Following behind the massive ogre, Lochlain successfully resisted the urge to waddle step for step with the man and, instead, scanned the crowd for notable faces. On their way to the back of the club, he spotted five smugglers he knew, including Lacy Allred. The sight of the attractive, dangerous ship captain caused him to sidle closer to the bouncer and use his immense width as a shield. Once safely beyond the main room and inside the rear corridor, he resumed his stroll at a more dignified interval.

  The mountain ground to a halt at the end of the hall. A thumb reminiscent of Lochlain’s morning assassin’s flicked toward the door. “Ms. Larsson is waiting for you. Lemme search you.”

  Lochlain’s eyes moved from the sealed portal to the bouncer. “Search me? And you’re not going in with me?”

  “Not this time.”

  “Why not?”

  The mountain shrugged. “I have to get back to the front.” He looked down at Lochlain and repeated, “I have to check you for weapons now.”

  Lochlain flinched slightly but smiled. “Sure, though you know I don’t carry.” He fidgeted a moment, as if unsure what to do, before lifting his arms and stretching them out widely.

  The bouncer leaned down and began by feeling the cuffs of Lochlain’s soaking pant legs. With the man’s eyes focused on his search, Lochlain flattened his hands and savagely brought them together in twin strikes to the bouncer’s ears. Both palms easily found their marks against the stationary target. Eyes growing dim, the bouncer crumpled to a knee as his jaw dropped open for the second time that night.

  Inside the next heartbeat, Lochlain maintained his grip on the sides of the man’s head and yanked forcefully downward as he drove his right knee up. The knee made contact with the bouncer’s nose, shunting it sideways with a loud crack. Lochlain felt all resistance ebb from the unconscious man and let him tumble to the floor. He looked guiltily down the corridor for additional security but saw none.

  Bending low, Lochlain’s hands rifled inside the man’s suit coat. “You know I don’t carry weapons, Mitch,” Lochlain whispered, “but I know you do.” His lips curled upward as his right hand extracted a simple slug thrower.

  A cursory examination told him that Mitchell Gibbs preferred to carry an Isacroft APEX 10-millimeter pistol. The lethal, black handgun smelled faintly of oil and Lochlain could tell the weapon was meticulously maintained by the smoothness of the action as he eased back the slide. As he suspected, a round was already seated inside the chamber. He tested the safety and tucked the pistol into the waistband of his trousers near the small of his back. “I hope you won’t hold this against me too much, Mitch,” Lochlain offered while stepping closer to the door. After a fortifying breath, he entered the office of Judit Larsson.

  The woman sat behind her desk with an inscrutable expression. This came as no surprise to Lochlain who walked in and casually closed the door behind him. As usual, flattery was his first approach and he unleashed his warmest smile. “Good evening, Miss Larsson, and may I say it’s always a pleasure to be in your company.”

  Larsson’s heartless gaze remained fixed and Lochlain felt the temperature in the room drop several degrees.

  “You’ve saved me some trouble, Reece,” she noted emotionlessly.

  Switching tactics, Lochlain moved on to obfuscation. “I only cooperated because I knew it would save at least one associate for you.”

  The woman behind the desk crossed her arms and huffed. “Which conveniently happened to be you.”

  He looked at her earnestly. “Judit, Captain Frazier and the rest of the crew were going down no matter what I did. My testimony didn’t change that. If I really wanted to harm your organization, I could’ve rolled over on all of you.”

  Larsson merely nodded her head. “I was concerned about that, Reece. I shut down the entire outfit for a month expecting CBP and Sec-Pol to storm my fronts all across Svea.”

  Lochlain gestured emphatically at her. “But it didn’t happen, did it? See? I’m on your team. The dolts at Vosstäder Correctional might think I’m a snitch but I knew that you’d be smarter. You know that as the last, free crewman of On Margin, I still have access to all the records and manifests. That means you haven’t lost those revenue streams. That’s why I did it, to save credits and resources for your business, Judit.” He raised his hands dramatically in exasperation before letting them come to rest on his hips. “And at great cost to my personal reputation, I might add!”

  “Not just your rep,” Larsson corrected as her icy facade began to melt. “The entire outfit’s reputation.” She launched a finger toward him and heatedly accused, “Because you saved yourself, I’ve got a fleet of captains wondering how many CBP moles have infiltrated their ships.” The shadows under her eyes turned darker as she lowered her chin. “I’ve already had an entire crew poached from me by another firm and who’s to say that the next time you’re picked up that you won’t use me as your next bargaining chip?” She slowly shook her head. “You’re a confirmed snitch, Reece.”

  Lochlain backpedaled as bargaining came next. “All right,” he stated with solemn resignation. “I see where this is going. Despite my best intentions over the last few months, you don’t think you can trust me. I want you to know that I came here so we could continue at least our business relationship but if you can’t understand that what I did, I did with your interests in mind, then maybe it’s best to just part ways amicably.” He let his hands creep further around his waist. “It was a good run, Judit. No, it was a fantastic run but I guess you’re going to let the best smuggler you’ve ever had slip through your fingers.” Lochlain took short, tentative steps for the door behind him.

  Larsson held out her hand and her next words were pure contempt. “Just stop it, Reece. We both know you aren’t leaving my club alive. You’ve either got more guts than any three of my ship captains put together or less common sense than a Svean mudrunner.” She chuckled darkly to herself. “I think I know which one.” Still sniggering, the woman began to reach to her desktop.

  In the blink of an eye, Lochlain drew the APEX 10mm and pointed it directly at her. His stomach plummeted as he fully realized he was challenging a prominent head of Capeland City’s organized crime. He idly wondered if it would be safer to point the gun at his own head but it could not be helped. He had tried his other tactics. His mind raced to Plan B. “Don’t,” he cautioned. Goosebumps ran down his arms as he gauged the hateful expression on Larsson’s face.

  The woman’s eyes narrowed at the weapon, anger flushing through her cheeks. “How did you get that past Mitchell?”

  An impish grin took hold of Lochlain. “He gave this to me. He warned me about this.” The perverse pleasure he experienced telling the lie almost made him feel guilty. “Let’s just say that there are a lot more people on my side than yours, Judit.” He twitched the gun’s barrel upward. “Stand up and don’t even think about trying to go for that cannon under your desk.”

  Larsson moved to place her hands on the desktop to help herself up.

  “Stop!” Lochlain ordered harshly. “I’ll shoot you down before you can activate those force field controls.” He let his eyes roam over the woman’s body mischievously while arching an eyebrow. “I know you’re a fit woman. You’re perfectly capable of standing without using your arms.”

  The woman rose from her chair slowly. For the first time since Lochlain had known her, he saw real doubt creep into her blue eyes. “What are you planning to do with me, Reece?” she asked with a tinge of fear in her voice. “I hope you’re not stupid enough to think you can walk me out of the club. That’s going to get us both killed.”

  Lochlain’s free hand dug into a pocket to produce a thick, polymer tie. “Relax, I’m not a kidnapper. I just need you not to sound an alarm before I ab
andon the premises.” He motioned her forward with a wave of his pistol.

  Larsson eyed the tie sharply before observing, “You came here with the noblest intentions yet just happen to have a zip-tie in your pocket?”

  He threw the restraint at her with a jaunty look. “What can I say? I’m always prepared for a good time. Secure one end around your right wrist and the other to the door handle.” His grin grew wider. “Be thankful I’m not telling you to strip first.”

  Once the task was complete, Lochlain ordered, “Now open the door but stay quiet. I’m not a killer so don’t make me one by screaming your head off.”

  “You already know I’m not a screamer,” Larsson remarked scornfully. “And I don’t mind giving you a head start.” She drew close. Her expression became lethal and her voice soured. “You’re going to need it,” she promised.

  With false bravado, Lochlain gave the woman a carefree salute. “Farewell, Judit. I hope you’re smart enough to leave well enough alone.” He passed through the doorway, careful to avoid stepping on the human lump prostrate on the floor. Pistol pointed vaguely at Larsson, he trotted down the hallway for the front of the club. Without a look back, he burst through the door and into the crowd of patrons.

  The constant throb of bass and drum was loud enough to cover any screams from Larsson, if any came at all. Lochlain dropped the pistol into a trashcan near the bar before ricocheting his way through the crowd. The most direct route to the exit took him past two other bouncers but he risked it for expediency. Halfway across the room, his eyes locked accidentally onto Lacy Allred’s and witnessed her immediate outrage. The pulsating music covered the woman’s indignation.

  Upon reaching the exit, Lochlain smashed his jacketed elbow into the pane of transparent carbon foam protecting a fire alarm. At last, the music’s relentless thumping found its perfect counterpoint. Seconds later, Lochlain was lost in the pouring rain and sea of humanity fleeing the club.

  Chapter 3

  Two hours later and nearly two hundred kilometers from the mind-numbing music of Larsson’s nightclub, Lochlain swore he could still faintly hear ringing in his ears. After dashing through the flooding streets of Capeland City and taking two taxi rides to random destinations, his heart rate had finally slowed to something approaching a normal level. He spent a drenching ten minutes looking for any indication that he had been followed and then took public transportation to the nearest spaceport. Once there, he rented an aircar for one hour, the duration of a quick hop to the city of Streasskogan.

  Lochlain’s clothes had mostly dried by the end of the trip although they were now wrinkled from sitting. He landed the aircar in the parking lot of High Tide knowing that the rental company would have little trouble tracking and recovering its property. The fine it would attempt to levy for failing to return the vehicle would be enormous but irrelevant. Lochlain ran his hands over his pants to smooth the fabric and entered the crowded restaurant… and promptly ducked back outside.

  “Reece!” The piercing shriek made his ears ring anew even though the call gushed with surprise and delight.

  Lochlain cringed and unleashed a curse he normally reserved for CBP patrol craft. He performed a half turn back to the restaurant and waved excitedly before digging out his datapad and pointing it at his rented aircar. The vehicle chirped obediently, informing him that its security alarm was active. With the confirmation, Reece turned back to the restaurant and entered with a huge smile plastered on his face.

  “Hi, Melissa!” he greeted her warmly and rushed up to her table, bypassing the restaurant’s hostess. He nodded back toward the entrance and muttered, “Forgot to lock the aircar.”

  The tall woman with chestnut hair practically leaped from her chair to take him into a deep embrace. “Reece! I didn’t know you were in town! How did you find me here? You could’ve just flashed me on your datapad.”

  Lochlain squeezed her hard and leaned his cheek to hers, avoiding most of her kiss. Finally, he released his hold and answered, “You’re worth hunting for, Mel. How are things?”

  “The ASA is still the same,” Melissa replied as she snapped her fingers at a waiter. “Speaking of, you really are falling behind on the continuing education courses for freighter captains.” She looked at him with a faux sternness before continuing. “I can only keep approving your extensions for so long before the sailing association will be forced to report you to Appiation for a lapsed captain’s license.”

  A waiter stopped at her table and the still standing woman barked, “We’ll need another chair.” She turned to her seated friends and asked, “Diane, Macey, you don’t mind if Reece joins us, do you?” She did not wait for an answer before gesturing impatiently at the waiter to bring the chair.

  Lochlain shook his head with regret. “I can’t stay, Mel. I really wish I could but I have a meeting I can’t avoid.”

  “Here?” Melissa asked skeptically before her voice dropped an octave. “Are you meeting her again?” Brown hair tumbled around her as she swung her head from side to side, searching. “Is she here? I want to finally see what she looks like.”

  He let his shoulders drop in defeat and hung his head shamefully. “You see right through me, Mel, but I have to see her one last time to end it.”

  Melissa stopped her fruitless search, crossed her arms and snorted. “You’ve been breaking it off for the last year! I’ve been waiting all this time! When are you going to be able to be with me? When is she going to take ‘No’ for an answer?” she demanded in rapid-fire succession. The volume of her voice ensured that the surrounding tables knew her displeasure.

  “Tonight, Mel. I promise,” Lochlain soothed while taking her hands. He kept his head low. “It’s just so humiliating,” he muttered. “She’s so needy and I know she’s unstable.”

  Melissa shot dirty looks to silence the whispered protests at her table. “I’ll never understand how you got yourself mixed up with someone like that,” she declared as she tried to retract her hands from his.

  Lochlain raised his head and looked at her with soft eyes. “I never knew what a good woman was until I met you. I’m just worried that she’ll do something rash if I don’t end it the right way.” He nodded with a fatal acceptance. “I have to do the right thing, Mel. You know that.”

  The woman’s resistance crumbled and she dropped petulantly back to her chair.

  “Thank you, darling,” Lochlain cooed. He hesitated a moment. “Uh, Mel…”

  “What.” The woman rolled her eyes up to him.

  “Would you mind… leaving?” he asked sheepishly. “I’ve told her about us and she knows who you are. If she sees you here, her power core will overload. She’s already jealous of you.”

  “This is the last time, Reece,” she promised as she began to stand. She brusquely waved her hand at her friends to get them moving and ordered, “Ping me tonight when you’re finished with her, Reece. I want to hear that it’s finally over.”

  Lochlain smiled and helped her from her chair. “Thank you for understanding and I’ll flash your datapad the second I’m done although it might be a while.” He looked around the restaurant and mumbled, “At least we’re in a public setting. Maybe she won’t melt down as much.”

  Lochlain escorted Melissa’s party out of the restaurant. He shared a parting affection next to the woman’s luxury aircar and waved dutifully until the craft had lifted off and jetted from sight. After a quick wipe of his brow, he turned back toward High Tide.

  * * *

  Mercer Brooke was waiting for him but then she felt like she was always waiting for him. She slowly rotated her shoulder underneath the strap of her simple, dark blue camisole. The garment hugged a lean, athletic body and fit close to the small swell of her chest. A thick, brown leather jacket hung loosely over the snug top. Dark pants with cargo pockets stretched across her hips and tapered down to black mid-calf boots, each bearing a strap and buckle over the instep and a second that wrapped around the shaft.

  Her sharp, hazel e
yes caught Lochlain’s entry into High Tide for the second time that evening. The smuggler faltered at the entrance and searched the booths and tables before a hypnotic smile erupted on his face at the sight of her. She tried to offer him a dubious look in return but failed. Despite her best efforts, she felt her lips curl pleasingly in response to the man’s irrepressible charisma.

  As he walked eagerly toward her, she cursed her lack of impulse control and slipped out of the booth to meet him halfway. She threw her arms around him in an enthusiastic hug, although it was he that initiated their kiss.

  Brooke tasted the faintest trace of strawberries on his lips.

  “I honestly wasn’t sure you’d show,” Brooke admitted candidly before slipping back into the booth. She took a long pull from her stout, attempting to hide her smile. Finally, she let the mug rest on the beverage strip atop the table and grinned openly at him.

  Lochlain reached across the table to take her hand and stated, “You look absolutely beautiful. I’ve been dreaming about this for two months now.”

  “It’s felt more like two years.”

  “It would’ve been sixty-five years if not for your testimony,” Lochlain replied.

  Brooke nodded with a smile and said, “Thank God you had the good sense not to react when I embellished my testimony about you.” She reflected briefly on past events before adding, “Maybe you really have saved my life.”

  She felt him squeeze her hand firmly. He peered deeply into her eyes, although he always seemed to do that. It was his voice that was different.

  “Mercer, thank you,” Lochlain started earnestly. His simple gratitude made her flush. The honest, vulnerable look on his face made him seem more naked now than any time they shared aboard On Margin. “I understand what you’ve gone through the last six months and I know how much I’ve tarnished your better angels. I don’t deserve you.”

  “You’ve got that right,” she agreed with a snort as she pulled her hand free. She took another long drink from her mug. It was only a quarter full now. “Hurry up and order something. We’re supposed to be celebrating.”