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Part 2
They walked across the lobby of the Snow Valley Lodge, trying to look at ease. Bobby was especially
wary. The private jet to the small airstrip a few miles from the resort was bad enough, but to have
a limo waiting for them when they arrived had just been too weird, making him even more nervous
than usual. When they reached the resort and were greeted by a banner proclaiming 'Welcome
Attendees', he was positive the boss had set them up. But for what?
As he was approaching the check-in desk, with Fawkes and the kid trailing along, he thought he
spotted Dante Thermapolye, a notorious arms dealer from Greece, but he couldn't be positive. And
anyway, what the hell would he be doing here? Hobbes pulled out the sheet with the reservation
number on it and handed it to the guy behind the counter, who smiled obsequiously at him as he
punched numbers.
"Ah, Mr. Battagalia." The gentleman gave Hobbes a genuine smile then. "And your 'assistants', of
course."
He punched a few more keys, while Hobbes did his best to keep his look bland instead of showing the
shock and confusion he was feeling. He glanced over at his two partners and was impressed that the
kid had put on her poker face. Fawkes, though... Fawkes' eyebrows were trying to merge with his
hairline, and he was about to open his mouth and blow the whole thing. "Could we hurry this up?"
Hobbes demanded of the clerk, hoping to forestall Darien's questions.
"Certainly, sir. According to this, your 'personal physician' will arrive tomorrow night?" At
Hobbes' nod, he continued. "Your room is ready; Grant will escort you." He nodded to the bellman
standing at attention nearby. "Some basic rules that ALL are receiving: No projectile weapons are
allowed during the conference. They must be locked in either your room safe or the Lodge's safe.
This facility is considered neutral territory and it WILL be enforced. Your 'assistants' may carry
any personal weaponry that is less than six inches in length." He picked up a folder stuffed with
various items, including what looked like badges, and Alyx took them from him. "The 'meet and
greet' buffet is at eight tonight, and it is recommended that you attend. Enjoy!" He handed
several room keys over to Grant, who already had their luggage, little as there was, stacked on a
rolling cart. He gestured for them to follow.
Darien was beyond confused. "Mr. Battagalia? What the hell is going on?"
Hobbes elbowed him, hard. "Later," he hissed.
"I take it he is new, sir," Grant said with a smug look.
"Very, and not likely to last long at this rate." Hobbes glared at Fawkes, daring him to say just
one word, one little thing, and risk screwing up whatever was going on.
Darien glared right back. That elbow had hurt, but he did get the hint and kept his mouth shut.
*Dare, be patient. Bobby is just as confused as we are,* Alyx sent, trying to reassure him he
wasn't the only one wanting to know what was going on.
Darien sighed and leaned against the wall of the elevator, doing his best to look bored and hoping
Hobbes hadn't knocked anything loose when he'd nailed him in the side.
They kept their silence until they were in their room, a mini-suite, and had the bellman, Grant,
tipped and gone. "Kid?"
Alyx gave the room a quick scan and found nothing out of the ordinary. "Clean. What the hell is
IGMET-Con? And who the hell are we supposed to be?" She had gotten that much from the folder the
check-in clerk had given them.
"IGMET-Con? The Fat Man sent us to a convention?" With a quiet groan, Darien sank down into a
chair in the sitting room.
Hobbes had continued through into what must be the bedroom. "Two queens, but plenty of room." His
voice became muffled. "Good lord, this bathroom is bigger than my apartment."
Darien and Alyx wandered after him. The bedroom was huge, two queen beds separated by a good ten
feet of space, and a massive big-screen television and entertainment center that matched the one in
the corner sitting room. You name it, this room had it. There was a good sized balcony off the
bedroom that overlooked the pool area and the snow covered mountains behind the resort. The
bathroom was a hedonist's delight. Huge freestanding multi headed shower, jacuzzi tub that was darn
near a spa in size, and double sinks with a built-in make-up table, including lighted mirror.
"Hobbes, what are we doing here?" Darien asked, trying to decide if he had the energy to take
advantage of that tub. This was a 'vacation' after all.
"Let's find out." They went back out to the sitting area and Hobbes dug out the paperwork Eberts
had given them. They had received orders not to read the file until they had arrived and checked
in. He scanned over them and then proclaimed, "Holy shit." But he was smiling with glee. "I
thought this thing was a myth. The chief has pulled off the scam of the decade."
"Hobbes, think you could fill us in?" Darien muttered from the chair he had sunk into.
"IGMET. International Gathering of Mercenaries, Entrepreneurs, and Terrorists," Hobbes informed
them.
Alyx froze, bent over, as she retrieved a bottle of water from the mini bar and turned to look at
him.
"These guys have conventions?" Darien didn't believe a word of it. It was just too...too ludicrous.
"That would explain the weaponry rules. We're you're bodyguards, aren't we?" Alyx asked as she
twisted off the top of the bottle and took a drink. She shivered and headed for the thermostat,
dialing it for warmer. She was freezing in here.
Hobbes looked over the dossiers that someone, most likely Eberts, had worked up for them. "I'm
Vincent 'Vito' Battagalia. I deal in assassination weaponry. Guns shaped like pens, poisoned
needles in shirt cuffs, and the like. Interesting. You," he continued, looking at Fawkes, "are
Gary 'the Fox" Harding. You also act as my gopher."
"Gopher? Like the Love Boat?" Darien wasn't sure he was too thrilled with that.
"No, like on a movie set, I bet, " Alyx commented. "Go fer this, go fer that. But less-than-legal
stuff, I imagine."
Hobbes looked surprised. "You're right, kid. I'm impressed."
"Jeez, Bobby, I passed that course. Who am I?" She might as well find out now.
"You...are eye candy." When Alyx lifted an eyebrow, he chuckled. "You're the real bodyguard. While
they all watch 'the Fox' here, you get to be the dangerous one. Umm, you are Angel 'the Kid'
O'Connor. Pretty good how he got your nicks in there to use."
"All right, I'll bite. Why are we here? It's not like we can just walk in and arrest the lot of
them. We'd be dead in under thirty seconds." Darien shifted, his side aching again. This was not
his idea of a vacation.
"Intelligence gathering, only. Look, this 'convention' is held for the purpose of finding out who
has what new toys to play with and who is looking to purchase what. The Keep will be bringing our
'new merchandise' to show off." Hobbes read over some of the details. This was very dangerous,
especially for the kid and Fawkes. If their covers were blown, things could get real bad real fast.
Nevertheless, he could understand the boss not turning down this chance. If they did this right,
they would have a heads-up on just about every terrorist attack, merc mission, and new toy of death
and destruction from biologic to subtle poison, for the next year at least.
"And how much back room dealing does he want us to eavesdrop on?" Darien asked, sounding resigned.
"As much as you can stay invisible for." Hobbes grinned; this was gonna be sweet. "And you, kid..."
She was shaking her head vehemently. "Uh-uh. No way. I am not going to go poking around in their
heads. I have no wish to know how Mr. Biological tested his newest way of making things very dead."
"Easy, kid, he just wants you to keep your radar on high, and if you do pick up on something, to
check it out." Hobbes paused, watching her shake. He was still damn uneasy about having a mind
reader for a partner, but he was beginning to realize that she liked it just about as much as he
did. "Can you handle that?"
She took a deep breath. "That I can do." She pushed away from the wall. "I'm going to unpack and
try and get warm before this 'meet and greet.'" She looked over at Darien. "You want me to check
your side?"
He nodded and got to his feet. "Hobbes chose that side to elbow." He sat down on the nearest bed
and squirmed out of his sweater and unbuttoned his shirt.
Alyx squatted down next to the bed, noticing that there was no blood on the bandage -- always a
good sign. "Did he nail it directly?"
Darien yelped. "Your hands are freezing."
Alyx chuckled. "I said I was cold." She carefully lifted the bandage and looked at the wound. "It
looks fine. Take some Tylenol and take it easy for a while." She smoothed the bandage back down
and stood to move out of the way. It was a bit of an awkward position, since she was essentially
under his arm which he held up out of the way. As she stood, his arm ended up curved around her
back. She smoothly stepped away.
Darien gently took her hand and tried to warm it in his. "You okay?"
She pulled her hand away. "Fine, just freezing my butt off. You need to go play bodyguard with
Hobbes."
"Huh?" Darien sat still as she reached over and buttoned his shirt for him.
"Come on, Fawkes, I want to check out the lay of the land. Kid, we'll be back in an hour." Hobbes
stood in the doorway of the bedroom, watching the two of them. "Did you kiss his boo-boo all
better?"
Alyx snorted and pushed past him. "You wish. Next time try not to reopen his injury. He won't be
much use lying in bed bleeding. Claire didn't put stitches in for a reason, or do you want to have
to answer to her?" She made a point of allowing her irritation to show, and Hobbes didn't miss it.
"I got it, kid, but he was gonna blow the whole thing. I seriously doubt those are the regular
resort workers." He watched as she grabbed her two bags and carried them back to the bedroom,
where she chose a bureau and began to unpack.
"They're not. But they've done this before." Alyx commented as she transferred the clothing from
her duffle. She had packed comfortable clothes, as well as what she considered her working clothes.
They would be perfect for the role of 'eye candy.'
Hobbes nodded. "Figures. Not exactly the vacation we were hoping for." He turned back to Darien.
"Let's go, Fawkes." He looked his partner up and down. "Think you can try and look dangerous?"
"Another smart-ass comment and I will be dangerous, to you anyway," Darien grumbled as they walked
into the hall. He could just make out Alyx laughing as he shut the door.
They walked in silence for a few minutes, heading back towards the lobby. "Fawkes, you and the kid
aren't..." He paused to choose his words carefully, not wanting to anger his partner. "...Getting
cozy, are you?"
Darien shook his head. "No, just friends." It was true enough as far as it went. "The two of you
don't fight nearly as much anymore, should I be asking you the same question?"
"Ah, no. The kid's okay." He paused, looking over the expanse of the lobby below from the head of
the stairs. "You were right... about the partner thing."
Darien actually looked surprised. "You just need to give her some time. It took a while before we
got the hang of this partner thing."
"She'll have it." He noticed a sudden expression of worry chase its way across Darien's features.
"Hobbes, could any of these guys recognize you?"
Hobbes really thought about it. "Not likely. Most of the ones here I probably know only through
pics and their dossiers. Not from face-to-face meetings."
"What about Arnaud? Might he be here?" Darien was starting to think this might not have been the
best of ideas.
"Based on the guys I've recognized, and there have been a few, he's too small fry. Now, if he had
working quicksilver tech, maybe." Hobbes spoke from experience. This 'convention' had been a rumor
for decades, especially since the cold war had ended. It was always by invitation only, always kept
a secret until the last minute, and never held in the same country twice. The last one he could
recall hearing rumors about had been held in Hong Kong, seven years ago. He really had to wonder
how the Fat Man had not only found out about it but also gotten them invites.
Darien relaxed marginally. "Into the fire, partner. Into the fire."
Side by side, they walked down the stairs and into the enemy territory down below.
Back in the room, Alyx finished unpacking, tossed the empty bags into the closet, and hung up her
jacket. Even with the heat cranked up, she was still cold. She had packed the warmest clothes she
owned, but since it was her first winter here she was still fumbling for an appropriate wardrobe
for the weather. She was used to cool and dry at the worst, not the chilly dampness of San Diego or
the numbing cold of the Northern California mountains. She hadn't been anywhere near real snow in
years, and this bone-deep chill was making her body rebel.
She dug out her one sweater and pulled it on over her T-shirt. Then she moved to the bed, pulled
the artistically-folded blanket off the end and wrapped it about herself. And people came here for
fun. Huddling on the bed, she turned on the television to see what she could see. After several
minutes of flipping through various channels, she settled on the local weather/ski report and
picked up the files lying on the table. First she went through the work-ups Eberts had done, making
sure she had the details of who and what they were supposed to be.
Then she reviewed the toys they were supposed to be putting on display. They were all very 'James
Bond,' but actually all within the realm of reality. She was swiftly learning that the 'toys'
created by Hollywood for the benefit of entertaining the masses were nowhere near as fantastical as
the real things. Anything some writer could dream up had probably been thought of and created by
some scientist years ago.
The specs were a bit rough. Claire would be bringing the detailed info as well a the 'toys'
themselves, but if asked, Alyx could probably fake it. Claire, although listed as 'Vito's' private
physician, was actually playing the part of their group's 'Q', the creator of the nifty little
assassin weapons. She'd been working for Vito for years and was arriving late since the real 'show
and tell' didn't begin for a couple of days.
Still listening to the weather, she moved on to the convention information. Tonight's meet and
greet was exactly that. In theory no one knew who else had been invited, though she'd bet there was
a core group who came to every one. They would work the room, get an idea of who did what, and plan
who to talk to over the following days. There were even scheduled 'talks': "Bio-terrorism in the
New Millennium"; "How to Hire a Mercenary"; "Choosing the Correct Assassination Tool"; "Better
Fighting Techniques for Bodyguards." Okay, so that last one did sound kind of interesting.
There were even things like, "Tracking the Old-fashioned Way" and "How to Remain Unseen in Any
Conditions." The last two would be held outdoors, in the woods surrounding the resort.
This was nuts.
Alyx wrapped the blanket tighter about herself and focused back on the television for a few
minutes. "Damn," she muttered. Getting to her feet, she took the file with their fake info and
locked it, along with her badge, in the room's safe. It wasn't exactly stuff you wanted to leave
lying about. So-called neutral territory or not.
When the guys showed a little while later, she was still sitting wrapped in the blanket, trying to
get warm.
"Jeez, kid, it's a sauna in here." He proceeded to adjust the temperature back down to a
comfortable seventy-two.
Alyx sighed. "Well, anything interesting?"
"Interesting? That is a Chinese curse, you know, and someone was really pissed at us." Darien
tossed his bags on the other bed and proceeded to go through them. He was looking for something
that would look intimidating, but still be comfortable. Every single one of the bodyguards he'd
seen was wearing black, and most of them had leather as well. He'd packed the same stuff he always
wore, just warmer versions. More long-sleeved shirts than tees. Several sweaters, his heavier
slacks and jeans. Nothing that screamed 'big bad bodyguard.' "Crap," he muttered.
"Fawkes, it's not that big a deal. The kid is the real bodyguard, remember. Dress comfortable and
look mean and it'll be fine." Hobbes was going through and unpacking his bags as well. He'd
already hung his garment bag, so he had sport coats, slacks, and dress shirts ready. In fact, he
already knew pretty much what he was going to wear.
Alyx moved over to help Darien, who had spread out a variety of items on the bed and was muttering
to himself. "Bobby, what kind of impression do you want to make tonight? You want 'don't mess with
us' or something more subtle?"
Hobbes looked over at her. "How about 'dangerous, bordering on deadly.' Not quiet about it,
either. Make it obvious."
"Gotcha," Alyx said. She perused the selection, shaking her head in bemusement at the red shirt
with the rope-like edging and horses on the back. She grabbed a black dress shirt and a pair of
broken-in but not destroyed jeans. "Wear these with your black leather coat."
"Alyx, you didn't see some of these guys. Black leather head to toe. MIB suits complete with
glasses. Black fishnet muscle shirts." He shook his head. This was never going to work.
"Darien, you're a thief. Act like one. Be watchful, wary. As bodyguards, we're supposed to be on
alert so Mr. Battagalia over there doesn't have to be." She hooked a thumb over her shoulder at
Bobby who nodded in agreement. "I've seen you go into sneak mode on jobs; just think that way for
this and it'll work."
"But the clothes..." He still didn't feel right about this.
"Dare, you want to blend in, like a thief or assassin does. This," she pointed at her wardrobe
choices, "will do that. Besides, no one will be looking at you once they see me."
"What you got up your sleeve kid?" Bobby didn't want any more surprises than necessary.
"Nothing you haven't seen before." Alyx turned to look at him. "I'll do you proud, boss." She'd
let her voice take on the hint of an Irish brogue.
Hobbes shook his head. "You first, Fawkes. You take the longest with that hair-care crap you live
on."
"You're just jealous, Bobby." The bag of stuff he pulled out impressed even Alyx with the size and
variety. He went into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.
Alyx moved to the doorway. "I'll leave you two to your unique version of male bonding." She
paused. "Bobby, they're expecting a big blow here tomorrow. I called the Official to warn him, and
he's going to try and get Claire out here earlier, but they were waiting on some items she needs to
bring."
Hobbes thought about it. There could be some problems if she was late, not the least of which was
the lack of counteragent if she didn't show. Hard for Fawkes to do any invisible snooping without
it. "Thanks, kid."
Alyx shut the bedroom door and sat down in the common area, trying not to shiver. She hated being
cold.
When Alyx came out of the bathroom, both men stared at her for a long moment before finding the
courage to speak. It wasn't that she looked bad or anything -- the exact opposite, in fact. She was
wearing that revealing dark green outfit they had seen a couple of times before, but she'd added a
few things to it this time. Such as a chain belt that hung around her hips, one long section
trailing down the side of her leg. She had heavy wide silver bracelets at her wrists. The end of
her braid was wrapped with another chain, with some decorative metal balls dangling down, making
soft chiming sounds as she shifted. Her low-heeled boots were tipped in steel on both the toe and
heel. It would be noisy on hard floors, but silence wasn't an issue for tonight. She'd done
something to the scar over her hip so that it stood out against her skin, making it obvious to
everyone that she'd been shot, and recently.
The final addition she retrieved from one of the drawers her clothes were in. It was the butterfly
knife Bobby had given to her recently, as a way of saying he was going try and accept her. Most
women would not have reacted all that well to being given a knife as a truce gift, but she had
understood and even asked him to show her how to use it. Which he had. Things had steadily been
getting better between them ever since. She slipped the knife into the sheath built into one boot,
wiggled her foot a bit to make sure it was secure, and stood up to face them. "Well?"
Hobbes walked over and circled her, looking over what she was wearing very carefully. "Not bad. Not
bad at all."
"'Not bad?' Hobbes, is she supposed to be your bodyguard or moll?" Darien had seen the outfit
before, but for some reason, here and now, it seemed inappropriate.
"Fawkes, that is exactly right. Eye candy, remember?" Hobbes moved closer to her. "How many
weapons do you see?"
Darien shook his head. "Just the knife she shoved in her boot."
"Bobby, you really need to start teaching him this stuff. The 'Fish had me take all those damn
classes; why not him?" Alyx surprised herself by actually asking that question.
"Apples and oranges, kid. There are reasons." He turned back to Darien. "You sure about the
armament?"
Darien shook his head. "Not anymore, but that doesn't mean I'm seeing it."
"May I?" Hobbes asked Alyx, and she nodded. "The boots themselves. Steel tipped, fore and aft.
Hurts like hell." He moved his hand. "The belt. Can be swung from the hip or undone and used as a
chain. Good for snagging on things like necks." He lifted one of her hands, being very gentlemanly
about it. "The bracelets. Wide and solid. Good for offense or defense." He motioned for her to turn
about and she did so. "Her hair." He lifted the end of the braid. "Swung effectively, these beads
will hurt. Take out eyes, maybe break a nose if swung hard enough."
Hobbes turned to look at his dumbfounded partner. "Check out the guys downstairs. Most will have
similar bits of subtle weaponry about them. Though the MIB types will probably have brass knuckles
and such stuffed into their pockets. The rules on obvious weapons made this stuff inevitable." He
backed away from Alyx, looking her over again. "The kid actually has an advantage over most. Most
guys won't use a lot of these tactics because they're 'girlie'."
"You can actually use all that stuff?" Darien asked Alyx.
She nodded, realizing he was not very thrilled with this side of her. That's okay, neither was she.
Walking over to him, she made few adjustments to his outfit. Smoothing the collar, shifting the
jacket on his frame. "How's the side?"
"Fine," he said a bit stiffly. Then he looked over her to Hobbes. "Can we get this over with?"
"Yeah, let's." He handed each of them their badges and pinned his own to the lapel of his jacket.
"Fawkes, you lead the way."
"Bobby, I think I should go first." Alyx kept her voice quiet, not wanting to antagonize, but she
had actually thought about it. "Look, I'm shorter than you and the most obvious. I'll clear the
road. You can see over me and keep your eyes open for trouble. Darien takes the rear, since he can
see over both of us."
Hobbes mulled it over for a moment, then nodded. "I like it. We'll give it a try."
Darien shrugged. "Whatever. Can we go now? I'm hungry."
Alyx led the way to the door of the suite and opened it. "And what makes you think you're going to
get to eat? You're there to guard his nibs here, not chow down." Alyx hid her grin as she heard
Darien groan somewhere behind her. This was going to be...different.