Saturday Evening

"I'm starving," Eliza complained stepping into her boots.

Jane stopped and stared at her. "Do you always put your boots on first? Do you know what you are doing to me, standing there naked, except for black leather boots?"

Eliza gave him a bump and grind, and then wrapped her leather skirt around her waist and cinched the waist tie tight. She shrugged her blouse on, secretly enjoying Patrick's rapt attention. "You do have places to eat around her, don't you? I mean eat! Not nibble."

Their seat at the Moxie was great and Jane's Citroen made short work of the distance from his apartment to downtown. Eliza had loved Jane's beloved antique, though it's age would belie its performance. While not a high speed vehicle, a top speed of slightly over 100 mph was optimistic, it is a true sports car, with a tight suspension, and when cornering, seems glued to the road. With a wheelbase several inches shorter than a full size luxury car, it was a good choice for Jane's lifestyle, plus true aficionados considered it one of the more beautiful production cars ever made. Style was not it's short point.

Patrick fussed over the menu and then abandoned it in favor of the salmon dish that was being featured, today. Eliza had refused a menu and had silenced the waiter with a wave of her hand, and ordered Steak Tartare. The waiter accepted the order and offered with or without anchovies. "With," was her instant reply. Eliza smiled and looked at Patrick. "Now don't go and ruin my, to date, good impression of you!"

"Not a problem," he smiled. "I just don't like beef or horse. I'm not a fan of red meat. Now, I do love shashimi!"

"OK, you pass on that one. There's no accounting for taste!" She winked at him and the both laughed.

The food was plentiful and the wine was good, though the restaurant did not have Palinca. The glow of the wine was good for both of them.

The evening, like last evening, had turned brisk. Jane wondered, as they were walking to the car, what disaster would befall them, tonight. As if he were truly psychic, the heavy rumble of multiple motorcycles turned into the parking area behind them. Jane instantly recognized the gang as wearing the Bloods colors. He tried to push Eliza behind him, but she just slipped from his grasp like smoke.

He recognized Monk and Brute, so there was a good chance he could negotiate his way out of this – whatever "this" was.

The bikes circled them and came to a halt. Monk killed his engine and looking towards Eliza said, "Eliza?"

Eliza stepped forward, smiled, and said, "In the flesh."

Monk leered. "And good looking flesh it be, too." He shook his head and handed her a cell phone. "Text message for you," he explained.

Eliza showed no surprise, just took the phone and read. She handed theh phone back to him. "Thank you," she said. She reached into her cape and passed something to Monk. "Duk's compliments," she whispered so low that only he could hear. Monk palmed it quickly and made it vanish. If you didn't know what was happening or weren't as alert as Jane, you'd have missed it entirely.

The bikes roared off, leaving the smell of hot oil and gasoline in the air. Eliza watched the tail lights vanish into the distance, an almost wistful look on her face. She shook herself, turned to Patrick and said, "That was a text message from Duk. The Deacon has sent a crew to find me. He's stupid. Only two, so they probably won't have a whole lot of luck."

Jane looked confused. "Why didn't he text you himself? Why text the Bloods and how did they know where to find you?"

Eliza walked over to his Citroen. "All good questions. Let's head back to your apartment and I'll give you some guesses. Right now, if you'll drive, I need some thinking time."

Back at the apartment, Jane opened the door and allowed Eliza to enter first. "Now, Miss Eliza, you are going to talk to me and tell all."

Eliza snorted. "All, not likely." She dropped her cape, took off her blouse and removed her skirt. She remove each boot, by standing on one leg and easing the boot off.

"That's impossible," Jane said. "And why are you getting naked."

"Being naked will let you perform the task I'm going to give you and won't stop me from talking." She flopped down on the bed. "I'm guessing that my favorite Bastard, Duk, he was a black ops spook, you know, chipped me. That's how he knew where I was. He has connections with the Bloods, and since I ditched my old phone, he called them to deliver me the message. Now, you are going to go over every inch of my body and find that damn chip and we are going to remove it."

Patrick shook his head. "You have got to be kidding me!"

"I'm lying here naked, not molesting you, and you tell me I'm kidding. I'm going to hurt that sucker the next time we meet, and you find that damn chip or you may be on the top of my list of people to hurt."

Jane wasn't sure if she was telling him the truth or not, but if she was, he wanted that chip gone almost as much as she. That chip, if it existed, was in his apartment. "OK, what do I look for and where?"

"The chip can't be too small, but it has to be small enough to conceal. I'm guessing something like an RFID chip."

"You mean those little things on boxes," he asked.

"Yes, something like that. I've taken several showers, so if it's on the surface, it where I can't reach it and it has to be fixed there really well. I'd bet subcutaneous."

"OK, hold still," he said. "This is sort of fun," he observed.

Eliza squealed. "If it were there, you'd know it by now. Get serious."

"Sorry," he said, but he didn't sound sorry at all. If fact he looked rather smug.

"Ha! I think I found it!"

Eliza turned to face him. "That rotten bastard put it in my butt?"

Patrick chuckled. "Right in the crease line, but it feels like cyst or something solid. I'm guessing you don't have a cyst there, and there's a tiny scar there, too."

"Ok. That has to go. You ready for surgery Doctor Jane?"

oOOOo