Part 1
"Well, he's a little more Daniel Craigish than I expected."
She was sitting behind the desk of one of my offices. This one was an independent computer video game programming company. Supposedly. She was wearing her super-geek uniform (indie T – shirt with jeans and Converse, cool square wire rim glasses with chunky plastic on the sides, bare minimal for makeup –she had dubbed it 'ChapstickChic') so that no one looked twice at her when she walked in and out of the building. If they only knew what actually went on here, she often mused.
She had her feet up on the desk. Guerrero was in standing in front of her, with a look on his face that she could only assume was a mixture of amusement and suspense. He was dying to see how this meeting ended.
She looked from him back to the other man in front of her, the man to Guerrero's right.
" You're a little too pretty for a man who gets beaten up on a regular basis."
The man raised his eyebrows and looked at Guerrero. "Did she just call me pretty?" Guerrero shrugged. The man moved his eyes back to her.
"Who are you again?"
Guerrero opened his mouth before she could respond, knowing that her response would be less than cordial.
"Christopher Chance, meet Dru Cordova."
Chance just continued to stare at her, with what she would call an arrogant smirk. Guerrero gestured to the chairs in front of them. "Just sit down, Dude."
Chance sat, legs spread, arms on the armrests of the chair. It was what she called the 'Big Man Stance.'
"Ok, so what is it that we need from Ms. Cordova?"
Guerrero gave him an irritated look. "Don't you guys listen to me? Look, I can get you in with a cover by tonight, no problem. But after that, you're gonna hit a brick wall, Dude. These people are hard to crack, they trust no one. Sure, you can go in there with massive firepower and blow the place apart, but then what? You need information. Dru knows these people, she's like a free ticket to the show."
Chance looked her up and down, from the bright red highlights in her straight brown hair to her pink and black socks with the skulls on them. She waited for him to make a comment like "How is this girl gonna get us in there?" But no, she thought, he knows better. He's a chameleon, just like me.
Chance looked to Guerrero again. "Since when do we call in temps?"
Of course, this went up her ass sideways.
"Excuse me?" Her feet dropped to the floor. " I'm not a 'temp', thank you very much." She gave Guerrero her best 'WTF' look.
He put his hand up in a gesture of peace. "Chill out Dru, he's just used to working alone." He looked over at Chance. "And you stop trying to push her buttons. I'm telling you, Dude, this thing can go a lot smoother with her involved."
She looked from one man to another. Chance spoke first.
"So Guerrero says you have a stake in this. What might that be?"
The muscles in Guerrero's jaw started working slightly. She noticed it out of the corner of her eye, keeping her gaze on Chance.
"Let's just say I jump at any opportunity to fuck with Irena Vetlanskaya."
"Why, did she steal your boyfriend in High School or something?"
Guerrero started to intervene but Dru spoke first.
"If you want my help, meet me tomorrow night in the Onyx Bar in the Iberian Hotel. There is private party in the rooftop penthouse. 9pm, black tie. Have G email me the details of your cover."
Chance looked at her quizzically. "G?"
She gestured to Guerrero.
Chance looked at Guerrero and laughed. "G? She calls you G?"
Guerrero gave him a look that spelled danger. "Yes, and she's the ONLY one who does."
The men rose from their chairs. Normally Guerrero and Dru would have exchanged a hug and kiss on the cheek, but this was business. Dru rose to see them out. She spoke to Guerrero. "I hope he's as good as you say he is."
Chance turned to her. "I could say the same about you."
2
Outside of the building, Chance stopped short and looked at Guerrero. "She's impatient, and she has an attitude problem. She's arrogant."
Guerrero couldn't help but laugh. "You just described yourself, Dude."
During the ride back, Chance thought about this job. Eastern European organized crime families were notorious for drugs and prostitution. They were also infamous for violence tailored to send a message. Chance wondered how this woman in the fake office had ties to the Ukanov crime family. He knew that he could ask Guerrero, and he would get the manila folder answer. What he wanted was the whole story, whatever was behind her eyes when he asked her what she had against Irena Vetlanskaya. He'd stirred the pot and it had hinted at boiling over. He stretched against the seat of the car, and let his mind wander where a man's mind always did. She was pretty cute, at least. Not a knockout by any means, that computer geek thing had never really been his cup of tea. But she had some curves going for her, especially around the hips and ass, where he liked them the most. Her huge brown eyes behind those glasses, high cheekbones and full lips didn't hurt either. Maybe with her hair swept up tomorrow night, and whatever kind of dress a quirky gamer girl considered 'black tie', she'd at least look sexy on his arm tomorrow night. He didn't' know why he cared, he was there to save a girl and do a job. But still, a hottie on your arm is never a bad thing.
Dru returned to her desk and sat. "I just met Christopher Chance," she thought, "not at all what I expected."
She wasn't sure why, exactly. She supposed she thought that he'd be a bit more….rugged? Brutish? She couldn't find the right word. But the handsome and sarcastic man she had just met was certainly not the Christopher Chance she had pictured in her head.
Dru knew quite a bit about Chance. She knew that it would surprise him how much she knew. Some of it she had learned from Guerrero. But only what he deemed right for her to know. G was fiercely loyal. He would no sooner divulge Chance's secrets to her than he would hers to Chance.
Other things she had gotten from Babtiste, and others still from the Old Man. Dru knew that Guerrero couldn't have told Chance that she knew his 'family,' and that once they had been her family, too. She also knew that the things she knew were things he wouldn't want her to know. Even more important, were the things she knew that HE didn't even know. Like the truth about the murder of Catherine Walters.
But that was too heavy to think about now. Tomorrow night she would be going back into the lion's den. That world held so much fear, so much anger. She'd done many dangerous jobs in her lifetime, dealt with many downright evil people, people who were capable of laughing with you one minute and popping our eyes out with a fish fork the next. She wasn't afraid of being hurt, of dying. She was afraid of the past, and being able to keep it down long enough to get this job done.