A Dying Wish

by Henry Roi

  He said, “Yeah. I quit. She saved my life. I was turning into a super villain.”

  “What's wrong with being a super villain?” I said. The girls cut their eyes to show the worth of my wit, and I gave them double middle fingers. “Super villainous,” I said with an evil grin.

  Blondie shook her head at Shocker. Men, she shrugged. Shocker sniffed with disdain. Bobby gave everyone a bright, You-White-Folks-Are-Crazy grin while Ace continued to stress out and miss the humor. He said to my girl, “You are the first person to connect me to Apex. Many have tried.”

  Blondie counted off on her fingers. “You are known as the badass hacker that got arrested while working for WikiLeaks. You are a materials wizard. And, you just admitted to being Apex. I was really just fishing. For all I knew 'Wrecker' was some new program.”

  Shocker gave him a reprimanding scowl. Dumbass!

  “Lovely. So what's a Wrecker?” I asked again.

  “A computer. I built it to, uh…”

  “Be super villain sexy?” I suggested. I held my hands up. “Hey. I get it.”

  He finally smiled without looking lame. “Sure. I thought we could use it. Bobby and I brought it here. It's in my car. We can set it up at your garage.”

  “Doable. Whacha think, Lean Meats?” I looked at Blondie.

  “We'll go to the garage after we eat. Me and the super villain can test drive the Wrecker while you guys do recon with the drone.” She picked up her BlackBerry from the table. “Anybody want coffee? A boutique around the corner delivers.”

  “She's showing off,” I told the room. “She owns the place. Wait until you see how it's delivered.”

  “Are the delivery boys nude or something?” Shocker said. Everyone laughed. Blondie gave a cryptic smile, then sent a text to her store for the coffee orders.

  I stood and walked into the kitchen. Perry had pans and utensils in use that I had forgotten I owned. He hummed jovially, the sizzle and pop of simmering oil on the stove accompanying his jam like greasy symbols and percussions. The vent over the burners sucked up the spicy, steamed smoke. I peeked into the oven's window but couldn't tell what kind of beef was making me fight drooling.

  Doesn't matter, my inner wolf's slavering jaws grinned. Meat! Meat! Meat! Meat!

  “Should be ready in a few minutes,” Perry said. “I hope you like tofu.”

  “Toe who? Stop threatening me.” My brows furrowed painfully.

  Perry leaned back, laughed boomingly. “You know better than that, boy. Think I got like this eating soy imitations?” He patted his considerable girth. “You know better. Set the table. You're in my way.” He pushed by me with a smile, humming once more, grabbed an oven mitt. I opened a cabinet, took out some plates.

  * * *

  “These,” Bobby mumbled around a mouth of meat ten minutes later, “are the best ribs I've ever tasted.”

  Perry jutted his wide jaw happily, passed a bottle of A-1 to Ace. The table was barely adequate to hold everything, its top not visible from all the food, plates and elbows. Blondie and I shared one side, facing the geek and girl-beast. Big Swoll and Perry on the ends. A pan of ribs in the center held everyone's attention. The roasted juicy meat had little cartoon wisps of scent curling enticing fingers under our noses, driving our hunger into high gear. Fried mushrooms, onions and bell peppers were sautéed in a pan next to it. A large bowl of squash and tomatoes, bowls of sweet corn and salad. French bread, toasted with thick butter and garlic.

  I ate a disgusting amount. We all did.

  “Oh my God,” Blondie complained. “I'll need lipo' after this.” She leaned back, rubbing her stomach.

  “You guys want to hit the gym later?” Bobby asked, steadily forking it in.

  “We'll do it,” I said, resisting the urge to grab a fifth rib. I sighed, pushed my chair back. Glanced at Perry, whose eyes were enlivened by the meal and its effects on us. Damn you. I'll have to double up my cardio in the morning to burn off all this good shit. I grimaced at him, reached for another rib. Perry barked a laugh.

  A loud, high-pitched beeping sounded from outside the front door. Blondie stood quickly, flashing perfect teeth. “That's the coffee.” We stood and followed, their faces curious about the delivery service that beeps rather than knocks.

  The beeping continued. As we neared the door we could hear the sound of buffeted wind, as if a huge fan were on HIGH. Blondie opened the door like one of those The Price Is Right models and a small four-rotor helicopter hovered in our faces, its electric motors spinning incredibly fast, though silent, the roaring wind resistance its only exhaust. It was a Draganfly X4-P, a very light, very strong, all carbon fiber aircraft with a camera and insulated box hanging between its skids.

  “Hi Crystal,” Blondie told the camera, carefully opening the box. Removed two medium coffees. Handed them to Shocker, Ace. Closed the box.

  “Hi ma'am,” chirped a female voice from a small speaker not visible. The Draganfly backed away and another one hovered in its place. Crystal continued talking on this one. “Four coffees, ma'am. Is there anything else you need?”

  Blondie took the coffee from Draganfly #2. “No. I'll text you if I do. Thanks.”

  “Okay,” she chirped, sounding exactly like the preppy teen she was. “Have a nice day everybody!”

  The Draganflies fanned away quickly, the rotor thrust fading then vanishing. Everyone stared in the direction they went. Their open mouths and intrigued eyes made my girl very pleased. Ace was still waving slightly, unconsciously, tongue poking out the side of his confounded mouth. He realized he was still waving bye to Crystal, stopped, looked down at his coffee, a 12 oz. mocha latte that added a kid-like smile to his lame geek features. He sipped it.

  Blondie thrummed from his reaction to the whole thing. Shocker stared at her with a bursting What the fuck??? load of questions pushing out her hazel eyes, veins wriggling freaky-deaky on her over-developed upper body.

  Bobby slurped his coffee. “Ah…” He elbowed his new pal. “All right. Spill it, princess. We need to know how you've transported us into the future.”

  Blondie elbowed him back, closed the door and touched her espresso to his. Sipped it. “Mmm. It's good, huh? The boutique's name is Blondie's. We deliver coffee, pastries, flowers, and toiletries- anything under two pounds- to the local community.”

  “Two pound payload?” Shocker inquired. “That's why you needed two helicopters to deliver four coffees?”

  “Yep.”

  “Did you build them?”

  Blondie shook her head. “Draganfly Innovations manufactures them. I saw them on the 'Net a couple years ago and wondered why no one was using them for consumer delivery. I had just opened Blondie's and thought I'd test them in my business model.”

  “It's perfect,” Shocker nodded. “No delivery expenses other than the pennies it costs to charge batteries.” She sipped thoughtfully. Everyone sat down in the living room. Perry grinned and walked back to the kitchen to begin cleaning.

  Blondie set her coffee on a table, gestured with her hands. “The Draganfly X-four-p is thirty-four inches wide, twelve inches tall. The motors are brushless, very quiet. The four booms holding the motors and the camera body are carbon fiber.”

  “Tech?” the geek wanted to know.

  “Flight time?” Shocker asked.

  My girl gave her I Love Being the Center of Attention smile, said, “A powerful on-board processor with eleven sensors make it stable and easy to fly. The camera is vibration-isolated from both the chassis and camera mount. The entire rig weighs four and a half pounds, and can fly for thirty minutes on one charge.”

  Shocker's eyes rolled up in calculation. She said, “I'm guessing it could make deliveries five miles away and still have enough juice to get home.”

  “Yeah, about that. The twelve-megapixel camera takes incredible images. You can program it to go to a location, snap photos or vids, and return on autopilot. Employees at Blondie's take orders by phone or Web and load the purchases on the Draganflies.
Type the address into a laptop and they will fly there by themselves. When they reach their destination the autopilot is switched off and an employee takes the controls while talking to the customer. You've seen the payload box. A magnetic card reader is mounted on it. Customers take out their purchase and swipe their card.”

  “What about vandalism?” Bobby inquired, standing in front of the TV.

  Blondie shrugged. “Hasn't been an issue yet. But if some dumbass kids ever try to take one down they're in for a surprise.”

  “Such as???” Shocker prompted, no fan of suspense.

  Her face turned sneaky. She mimed spraying a can. “A squirt of pepper spray. There's a small canister on-board with a tiny solenoid to discharge it. The evasive software should take it out of danger before that happens though; sonar sensors warn it of any approaching objects. The payload box also opens from underneath. It could drop two cups of scalding coffee on someone.” She tittered at the thought.

  Shocker smiled wickedly. “That could be very useful.”

  “I know, right?”

  As Blondie continued to expound on her concept, I watched the girls, amazed that they had seemed to put aside their differences. It was a gradual change, built on grudging respect. I was forced to revise my assessment that they would never be friends even if they were paid to. “Hungh,” I said.

  “What?” Ace asked me.

  I jerked my head up at the chattering women. Bobby grinned knowingly at me, at his inquisitive friend. I said, “They're no longer keeping score.”

  “That we can tell,” Bobby added in a low rumble.

  “Oh,” Ace said.

  The girls abruptly quieted, eyeing us suspiciously. Bobby suddenly found his espresso very interesting. Ace turned a guilty color. I gave my #1 Mr. Good Guy smile. “Nice to see you vixens aren't trying to compare boobies anymore.”

  Shocker looked at Blondie, annoyed. “Is he always asking for it?”

  For an answer, my blonde lynx lunged at me with a jab, her little fist thudding into my shoulder. I nearly flipped the chair over backwards trying to avoid it. Everyone laughed, the girls flanking me as I stood to fend off the play.

  “All right now,” I warned. Duck, catch, block. Pivot. Moved around the couch. I bared my teeth, held my hands up. “You were warned. Now you've awakened an ancient evil,The Super Spank Monsters.” My horror movie murderer voice had Bobby wheezing in humor.

  “Oh shit!” Blondie squeaked as I jumped the divan, spun her around and pelted her cakes with several hard slaps. “Ow!” She rubbed her curves in pain, jumping up and down on her toes, face anguished.

  Shocker came at me with a grin that turned ugly as I blocked her blow, spun her around, and Whop! Nailed her buttocks as hard as I could. “Son of a mmm,” she bit her lip, holding the offended area with both hands.

  “Super Spank Monsters score!” I crowed, fists over my head, feet shuffling a victory dance.

  Ace looked at me like he wanted to say something about me spanking his wife. Bobby murmured something next to his ear and he nodded. OK. This isn't flirting, his eyes revealed.

  The girls turned on me with coiled fists and vengeful eyes. Still playful. But a more intent playful. The feeling of uncertainty no man likes when faced by an evil-eyed woman? It grabbed my nuts and twisted away a substantial amount of my confidence.

  Blondie has serious help, my subconscious told the Super Spank Monsters. You're in trou-blle…

  Jump back over the couch. Block Shocker, slip Blondie. Ow! Ow! Eat two gut punches, one in the kidney. Block, catch, push them away. It became too much, their four fists able to get by my defense as they chased me around the living room. I slipped behind Big Swoll, pushed him into my attackers. They giggled, threatened to hit him. He held his hands up, wanting no part of their drama, and I tripped on the fucking table, sprawling on my stomach, grunting as they jumped on top of me. Breath whooshing at the intense right-hand that landed below my ribs. They giggled like mad women, bombarding me with frogging knuckles. I covered face, stomach, face again…

  “Ugh! Oof! Ow! Crap, dammit, quit, okay! You win. YIELD DAMMIT!”

  “When you kids are done tickling each other,” Perry said, standing over us wiping his hands on a towel. “Maybe you can tell me why all those Vietnamese gangsters just pulled up out front.”

  * * *

  “They know it was you,” Big Guns told me and Blondie. Glanced at Shocker. “I put my boys around the building in case Diep sends his riders here.”

  “Here for what?” Shocker said standing. “To get their butts handed to them again? We'll handle them.”

  Big Guns grinned chrome. The memory of her ferocious assault on the 211 earlier came out in an amused grunt. “I'm sure you will. But I doubt they'll want to get close enough for that again. They'll try to knock you off in a drive-by.”

  I grimaced. The apartment is no longer safe. We'll have to move. I knew this was a possible consequence, so I prepared for it. Just didn't want to do it so early in the game. “Fuck. Any idea how they tracked us?”

  He nodded. “Vietech.”

  Blondie's eyes widened with alarm. “That's not good.”

  “Who's Vietech?” Ace asked, standing next to his girl. Perry walked out of the kitchen, folded his arms and listened.

  Blondie looked at Ace. “Hacker for the Tiger Society. He's based in New Orleans. M.I.T. grad, masters in computer science. He has a rep for designing topnotch spyware.”

  Ace gave a cocky half smile, one eye squinted. He wasn't impressed. “Never heard of him. Of course, I've been out of play for a while.” He talked like major criminal hacking was a video game. I liked him better by the minute. “An amateur could have tracked us here. There are cameras all over this area. He could have found your faces and then ran them through various databases for identification. Should we run a campaign to keep him busy?” His fingers typed the air, eager to engage in cyber warfare.

  Blondie's lips quirked. “Let's do it.” She spun around to look up at me, put a hand on my chest. My Johnson noted a tingling warmth spreading from her touch. “We're going to the garage to see if we can locate Vietech and shut him down. You need me for anything?”

  I shook my head. “I'll call you.”

  She kissed me and hugged Perry. Ace followed her out the front door after hugging the girl-beast.

  Big Guns looked at me, jerked his head at the door. “You want me to put an escort on them? I can have Gat and Vu follow.”

  “Nah. No offense big guy, but I don't want your guys knowing where the garage is. Not yet.” I crossed my arms. “Just like you have informers in the Tiger Society, they surely have rats in the Dragon Family.”

  Big Guns nodded. “True. It's a raw business.”

  “I thought we were going to do recon or something,” Bobby said from the couch. “Yeah. I don't feel right just sitting here. This place has been compromised,” Shocker added, sitting down next to Big Swoll.

  “We will. First though, let's consider our next mode of attack,” I suggested. Big Guns looked out the window behind the TV, making sure his crew were alert. He turned and sat in the chair. I looked around at everyone. “The Tiger Society has a racket on dozens of businesses in Biloxi and D'Iberville. The Two-Eleven and OBG collect 'protection fees' every Friday. I think we should disrupt their pick-up.”

  Big Guns' eyes had darkened. He said, “They have no honor. They take and give nothing back.”

  Shocker blew out a breath, arms folded tightly under her boobies. “Does the Dragon Family have extortion rackets like that?”

  Big Guns glared at her. A vein pulsed in his forehead. Voice choking back anger he said, “The Dragon Family used to provide real protection to the people the Tiger Society are ripping off and assaulting. They gave freely, knowing we used some of the money to benefit our people. We never threatened or beat them.”

  The girl-beast looked abashed. “Oh,” she said, eyes downcast. Bobby chuckled, gave her a cheer up elbow.

  I put a hand on
Big Guns' shoulder. “An honorable gangster. The last of the breed.” He turned his pulsing vein on me. I ignored it. “The Tiger Society's grunts do the pick-ups, when? Today is Friday.”

  “Around five in the 'Ville. Then they hit a few places on Division Street and Popps Ferry Road.”

  I glanced at my watch. 4:40 pm. “Timely,” I told them as if I hadn't planned this yesterday. “It's a ten minute drive to the spot I want to hit them.”

  “What's the plan?” Shocker quizzed. She and Bobby stood, ready to take care of business. Talk of people being extorted had put that fire back in her eyes.

  “We wait until they collect from everyone, then jump them. We'll spank them for their transgressions and return the money to the victims.”

  “All Robin Hood, and shit,” Bobby said grinning. His chest flexed, muscles jumping up impressively. Big Guns looked like he wanted to flex in challenge. Bobby gave the Viet gangster an expression that invited, Any time little man.

  “Nice plan, Mister President.” Shocker bumped knuckles with me.

  I grinned at her. My canines felt especially sharp. “President says, let's ride.”

  Everyone thanked Perry for the meal. He reiterated his offer for first-aid. “I know you guys will need it,” he said walking out the door. Shocker rubbed her scarred shoulders. I rubbed my forearm, a memento from a scrap with three drunks. Broken liquor bottles kinda hurt. We tried not to mug Perry's back as he climbed into his truck. The 454 big block propelled the '49 GMC away with lovely bellowing waves of turbo-muffled sound.

  I locked the apartment after everyone stepped out, punched a few buttons on my phone to set the alarm. If anyone shows up here motion sensor activated cameras will instantly send a video of the intruder to my BlackBerry. The four of us walked out to greet Big Guns' crew, six members of the Royal Family, a subset of the Dragon Family. Their leader told them to stand down. They followed orders like pros and three tricked Hondas brrapted away seconds later. We got into the lime Prelude.

  Big Guns took his time driving us to D'Iberville. The sun was still blazing hot, the breeze entering the open windows just barely enough to keep us from sweating. The rooftops of the one-and-two-story buildings we passed were distorted by simmering air. Downtown D'Iberville was booming, cars sloshing around parking lots like bacteria on a petri dish, packing into rush hour traffic, people getting off work and hurrying to their establishment of preference.