"How was the drive over here?" the agent asked when the silence between the three threatened to last a while.
"It wasn’t too exciting," he replied. "No wannabe biker gangs I needed to beat up and no trouble caused if that's what you're asking."
"It wasn't, but that's still good to know." She chuckled. "It was a short flight to get here, of course, but driving all the way to LAX and waiting for the flight to take off was what took most of our time. That alone was about three hours in total.”
"It almost took less time to drive." He grinned. "And was definitely cheaper, I have to say."
"Well, we didn't have much of a choice since we're on connecting flights," Tanya replied. "I'm heading to Philly, while Banks here is—"
"DC," Banks said. "We'll work on squaring the budget for this year. You've all been very productive in the business, so we need to get it in place again for the next quarter to make sure none of you deal with not being paid."
"Sounds like…fun." He grimaced and shook his head.
"Yeah, it's not." Her scowl added emphasis. "People who run budgets in the government tend to have the largest sticks in their asses—right up until they set their own salaries, of course."
"That sounds about right." He leaned back in his seat as the waitress returned with his drink and placed it on the table.
"Can I get you anything else?" the woman asked and glanced at each of them.
"I think these two are heading off shortly—flights to catch, right?" he asked, and Tanya and Banks both nodded. "But I think I'll have…the Belt Buckle with waffle fries."
"Coming right up, sugar," she said and swung on her heel to return to the kitchen.
"Sugar?" Tanya smirked.
"Don't be jealous. I'm sure she didn't see herself getting too many tips from you two and she's fishing for a higher percentage with the only dude in the ranks."
"Whatever," Banks said.
"So, what are we drinking to?" the hunter asked as she raised her glass.
"We could always drink to Hector," Taylor said. "You know, respect for the man who died alongside us on the job. I didn't know much about him but he wasn’t an asshole at the last. I’ll say that he was the badass he imagined he was to the very end.”
She nodded and the agent shrugged. It seemed like neither of them really knew much about the man, and while it was a sad thing for him to die on the job, they really didn't know what to say at this point.
All three raised their glasses.
"Hear, hear," Tanya said softly and lowered her head a little as they all took a swing from their beers.
Taylor looked around. "I don't know…do any of you have some words to share about the guy? I only met him today so there's not much I can say."
"Well…sure," Banks said. "Umm…he was the first specialist freelancer we brought onto the team. His credentials for the job didn’t include Zoo experience, of course, but in the end, he knew what needed to be done and he did it well. He has family I need to contact about his death—his parents, a couple of brothers, and a sister who's listed in his will. That's…more or less all I know about him. I really hope he's in a better place, though."
He narrowed his eyes, although he made no comment about how it seemed she had put far more effort into vetting him than she had with Hector. Admittedly, from what the man had said, it had seemed that he had been recruited as something of a spontaneous response, but he still would have thought she would have put more research into his background. She hadn't even been sure if he had spent time in the military before.
It was an interesting thing to note but not really relevant to the current conversation. He would bring it up with her later.
"On the bright side, I think I can say with some certainty that your payments will be approved soon," the agent said after another moment of silence. "Losing a member of the team will never be easy, but in the end… Well, I think we need to move on. Keep it going."
Taylor nodded. "You're not wrong, but… I don't know, I still feel a little depressed after the mission.” He looked out the window for a moment at the traffic light since there wasn’t anything happening at the stadium. “It's not the kind of thing you can really rush. You have to let it take its course, usually with booze, food, and a little conversation. Before you know it, you're past the downer part and one can move forward."
"True," Banks said and looked a little abashed as though she felt she had pressed them when it wasn't required. "Although I have to say, I'm not really comfortable with you being so…uh… Well, for want of a better word, sensitive. I was way more used to dealing with you when you are light, loose, and despicable. You know, the way you introduced yourself to me.” She took a sip of her beer. “That was the guy I could simply cringe and move on from. Now, I'll have to try to decide if I might have misjudged you, and I don't like that."
He couldn't help a small grin as she spoke. "Oh, I'm still the light, loose, and despicable person you met before so there’s no need to get philosophical on my account. My point is that sometimes, even the light and loose need to take a break in view of the need to…well, I hate to describe it as pondering my own mortality, but that seems about right to me."
"Oh, good, all's well in the world again." The agent smiled and took another swig of her beer before she checked her phone. "Well, it looks like the payment has already been processed and you two should see it in your accounts over the next couple of days. With that done, I think we're clear to head on out and catch our flights. Will you be good to drive, McFadden?"
"With the way I feel," he replied, “I intend to have more than one of these. I have Liz with me, though, so if I drink too much, I’ll call Bobby to come and pick me up. Don't let me make you late for your flights."
Banks nodded as he stood, took Tanya's extended hand, and shook it.
"It's been nice to meet you, Taylor," the hunter said while Banks moved over to give a tip to the waitress. "I look forward to working with you again someday."
"Right back at you. Good luck with dealing with your kid."
She smiled. "Thanks. Good luck with…” She waved a hand vaguely in no particular direction. “All of this, I guess."
Chapter Nine
Drinking alone was depressing.
It wasn't that Taylor didn't enjoy his own company because he did. But when he was drinking, it was usually to help lower his own inhibitions and that was best done with someone whose inhibitions were also lowered. Most people never understood that the therapeutic benefits of drinking had little to do with the drinking itself but rather the lack of societal filters that kept you trapped inside yourself.
You could do that at a bar with a barman. Or woman. Preferably a barwoman.
When you were drunk, you did what you wanted to do, said what you wanted to say, and in the end, when everything that was pent up was released, you moved on. That was the beauty of socially accepted self-medication. Obviously, people over-medicated. They did it alone and they wallowed in it.
That was when things took a turn for the worse, which was why he tended to not drink alone. He knew it would only make all his problems worse. And, like many others, he had enough to make his entire life a real problem if he let them.
He had long since chosen to not let them, which was how he had been taught to deal with things and so far, it had worked out great for him.
Absolutely fucking great.
Besides, he wasn't drinking alone. He was eating alone and having a drink with it. There was nothing wrong with that. He could enjoy his own company in these situations while he enjoyed the brisket and waffle fries, as well as his third beer.
The place began to fill up again as the dinner crowd moved in and headed deeper into the room to leave him in peace at the small table in the corner. There wasn't much reason for him to interact with them, and it appeared that most of the folks didn't mind leaving him to his own devices.
It wasn't long before he picked his phone up and called Bobby's number. It wasn't a terrible thing to
do, but the guy was probably not working at this point. He would be wrapping things up at the shop and contemplating a drink before he returned to his apartment.
"Zhang here."
"Hey, Bungees, how's it going?"
"Hey, Taylor," Bobby replied. "How's Los Angeles?"
"Well, there were tons of fires but aside from that, it wasn't too bad."
"Wasn't?"
"Oh, yeah, I'm back in Vegas," he said.
"So it was a short trip, eh? Did you get paid?"
"I did, and the largest bounty they've paid us yet. I’ve hung around this place near the stadium called Jessie Rae's BBQ since I got into town. The problem is that I've had a couple of drinks, so I don't think I should drive Liz to the shop."
"Oh, I get that." Bobby chuckled. "Were you celebrating?"
"Something like that," he agreed and lifted his beer to see how much was left at the bottom.
Shit, that’s low.
"Anyway, I wondered if you might be able to come over and pick me up—and drive Liz to the shop? I obviously don’t want to leave her here."
"Oh, sure. I guess I'll need to take a cab or something out there so I can drive Liz back."
"Sure, and I'll pay you back."
"You'd fucking better. I'll be there in…thirty minutes? It’s kinda a distance from here."
"That sounds good. I appreciate it."
There was a pause on the other side of the line. "Anytime, man. I'll be right over."
Taylor hung up, finished his food, and ordered another beer while he waited.
Enough people had arrived to make him feel they might pressure him to give the table up. He shrugged and decided to deal with that when it happened. Twenty-five minutes ticked by before he finally called for the check and finished his beer when Bobby came through the door.
"Hey, man," his friend said and they shook hands quickly. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," he said as they moved outside and wandered to where Liz was parked. "Well, kind of. I think I'll be all right in a while. There’s no need to worry about it."
Bobby eyed him closely as they climbed into Liz and he started her without saying anything.
"Was it a bad job, then?" the man asked once they were out on the road again. He turned right on S Valley View, then left to go to the 15.
"Yeah. One of the guys died. I don't think I was ready for that shit and it hit me a little harder than I thought it would."
"What, that people die?"
"No, that the Zoo's killing people here in the States. Well, I guess there's an element of truth to the people dying too. Shit. It reminds me of all those others, you know?"
"The person who died," Bobby said. "Was it anyone you know?"
"Not really," Taylor replied. "It was only the one. The guy was an asshole at the start, but he got in the middle of the fight and died. So yeah, he was an asshole and I didn’t really know him, but it wasn’t pleasant to watch. I’m still dealing with it."
"Huh." The other man let the silence linger for a moment before he spoke again. "Okay, I kind of get it. Folks in the middle of a dangerous place and fighting side by side kind of develop a camaraderie that's difficult to lose."
"And yet it's the kind you lose the most often," he agreed with a shrug.
"Yeah, I suppose. Did you manage to get his body out?"
"Nope, we were in the middle of a wildfire by then and had to make a run for it as soon as the job was done. I did manage to nab his dog tags, though, so…” He looked off to the left and barely noticed the airport as they drove past. “It was the least I could do."
"When you're in the middle of it, the least is all you can do sometimes," Bobby said with a firm nod, and he couldn't help but agree.
Thankfully, the drive to the shop didn’t drag as he’d been afraid it would. Bobby’s car was still parked there.
It was almost six in the evening, and while the two of them had never gotten around to actually discussing what kind of schedule his employee would work to, it was generally accepted that they would start between eight or nine in the morning and finish work sometime around five or six in the evening.
The fact that the man had still been in the area when Taylor had called meant that he was either about to leave or he had intended to work a little later than usual.
Either way, he had a feeling he would have to give him a raise before too long. He could afford it now that the FBI had decided to pay more than they had before.
"How were things around here today?" he asked as Bobby put Liz in park and they slid out.
"Oh, nothing too big," his friend called over as over his shoulder they shut the doors. "The suits we’ll work on next came in—and, oh yeah, there are five of them."
"What?" he snapped and stared at his companion as they reached the back where they had set their shop up. "Is that what you call nothing too big?"
"Nope, but I do call it me being facetious, though," Bobby said with a grin. "The guys liked our work on the other suits so they sent us more, and there are a couple of other merc teams in the Zoo that want our help, too."
"Shit," Taylor said and his gaze settled on where the suits had already been put up on racks to give them a full view of the damage.
None of them looked like they had taken too much of a beating, but if he knew anything about anything, he could tell they would be riddled with issues inside—electronic, hydraulic, and basically everything between.
"I thought you'd be happy to see the business we're getting," Bungees said and watched him closely.
"It is great, don't get me wrong. But all things considered, those suits will take a while to restore to working order, even if we work on it nonstop every day and even a few weekends. While there's the whole supply and demand scenario which gives us a little leverage, they'll need these suits back as quickly as possible."
"We can work them one at a time and bill them individually."
"Sure, that would work, but it would be a temporary fix, at best. Besides, that will mean they lose the saving they get on the bulk shipping." He scratched his chin and frowned in thought. "We'll need some help in here."
His friend nodded. "That's up to you, of course, but having a couple of extra hands here with us couldn't hurt."
There was a short moment of silence before he stepped up to the closest rig. He ran his fingers over the suit. "What do you think? Should we get recruit extra talent?"
"Talent on hand would be nice," Bobby agreed. "Having people who actually know what they're doing would be best, though.” He thought for a moment. “Honestly, finding them would be a serious pain in the ass. You would have to do the same kind of headhunting Banks did when she found you, and… Well, I'm sure you can attest to the fact that it'll probably be hit and miss."
"The folks she hired aren't too bad," he pointed out. "Sure, not the cream of the crop, but when you think about it, those are dying in the Zoo anyway, so she had to find the best talent available."
"I was talking about you." The other man raised an eyebrow.
"Oh…ouch." He chuckled. "Although, with that said, it should be noted that it's a fair comment. What do you think we should do in this case? Simply look for people with some kind of experience in mechanical engineering?"
The other man joined him and they examined the damaged suits. He noted a few spots of dark liquid, obviously someone’s blood. "I suppose that's one route you could take if you wanted to. Maybe if you have any buddies from your time in college?"
Taylor considered his contacts and recalled one or two names that might be worth reaching out to. "Sure, I can do that. I didn’t really stay in touch with any of them but I could always locate them, I suppose. People like to be told that there's a good, paying job available for them these days with this economy."
"Sure." Bobby yawned and covered his mouth. "And I could reach out to some of the people I used to work with in the garage to see if they'd like to make the same kind of move I did, and we decide what to do later. But with that sai
d, we don't necessarily need someone with experience. Even having a couple of extra hands on the job would go a long way, and you wouldn’t have to pay them as much. Like…you know how you would hold the flashlight while your dad repaired the car? Something like that."
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about." Taylor grinned, retrieved a wrench, and began to take one of the suits apart to try to get a feel for the kind of damage they were looking at. "Whenever I worked in the garage with my dad, he held the damn flashlight while I worked on the car. It also didn't help that he yelled at me the whole time to not get anything wrong. Or that I was under four and a half feet tall at the time either."
"Your dad was weird," his friend pointed out. "Well, except for the yelling part. My dad would yell at me for holding the flashlight wrong, so maybe that's kind of normal for all dads."
"Damn, I hope not. That aside, you made a good point. If we bring in someone who lacks the qualifications but wants to learn and doesn't mind putting in the same hours we do—besides taking a lower salary—it would probably work for us. We can train the newbie to the point where they start taking more responsibility on in exchange for pay adjustments."
"That sounds all business savvy." Bobby’s grin faded. "I…well, the only problem is that no one who fits those characteristics really comes to mind."
"Well, plan A was always for us to find someone we knew could put in the hours and had some expertise to join us. Finding a glorified intern would always be plan B. Or…maybe even C. I don't think I can afford to take on more than one new employee at this point."
"I'll make a couple of calls and get a couple of resumes in front of you by tomorrow."
They worked together to store the pieces of the suit he had tinkered with where they’d be safe.
"Can we pick this shit up tomorrow?" Bungees asked when they were finished.
"Yeah, sure," he replied. "I can lock everything up for the night if you're in a hurry to get out of here. Sorry for keeping you and…well, again, thanks for coming to pick me up."
"Again, it wasn't a problem." Taylor pulled his wallet out, then handed him the money owed for the taxi he'd needed to take. "I look forward to continuing this work of ours tomorrow."
Silent Death (Cryptid Assassin Book 2) Page 7
