THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS
Chapter 2 - THE CONTRACT
As if on cue the bartender brought their bottles, a tall glass of ice and a can of Coke. The woman made no attempt to use this to move away from Riddick. Instead,he felt her relax, turning her enforced confinement into a willing snuggle. Even after the bartender had been paid and retreated, she waited for him to signal an end to the need for the act. She was quick on the pick-up and flexible. He liked that.

He took a last brief moment to fix the feel and smell of her in his memory and then reluctantly released her. He expected her to make for the opposite side of the booth. She surprised him. She moved away but only enough to separate them about a hand's width. He broke open the seal on the bottle of vodka and set it in front of her. As he open his whiskey and filled his glass, she spoke.

"I know one is expected to add the liquor to the mixer but would it be acceptable to drink the two separately? I would like to continue experiencing the vodka in its pure form."

Damn, which fork should you use when dining in a sewer? And she was serious about it. Riddick laughed.

"In this joint you could shoot them up and nobody would blink. Just go long on the Coke and short on the booze if you want to be able to walk out of here."

There was a brief silence as she poured the Coke over the ice but poured the vodka into the stubby glass and took an appreciative but dainty sip of it.

"Do you do that, Mr. Riddle, use intravenous opiates or stimulants?"

The way she talked, like an encyclopedia, should have irritated him. But it didn't sound put on or worked at. It sounded natural for her, sounded like it was the only way she knew to do it. The question did irritate him but it was a legitimate one.

"No. I'm not a hype. There are cleaner, faster ways to commit suicide, if that's where you're at."

"Has that ever been 'where you were at', Mr. Riddle?"

Now that question wasn't legitimate. She was beginning to sound like a yoyo shrink.

"No! Where I'm at, other people bleed. Now get to the contract!"

He had kept the volume of his voice low but had put some threat into it. It didn't phase her. She smiled and relaxed back into the seat.

"That is exactly what I am doing, Mr. Riddle. Though my questions may seem impertinent, they are necessary. As I am sure Mr. G has informed you, the principle duties required are interplanetary piloting and security. However, I require someone capable of more than that. I have been quite sheltered and am consequently lacking a great deal of knowledge and experience that the re-location I wish to make requires. To put it bluntly, even within my own circle, I am considered ..... well, odd is one of the kinder terms that has been applied to me. I need someone who is capable of and willing to make the effort to assist me in modifying this oddness and acquiring the skills and knowledge necessary to survive outside my gilded cage. In my opinion, a certain level of invasion of your privacy is necessary to assure myself of your appropriateness for such an intimate association."

His first though: another greenie headed for a hard way to die. Then one word caught all of his attention.

"Gilded cage, huh? And someone else is keeping the key."

"Exactly. That is the reason I chose to seek the services of Mr. G. rather that more legitimate sources. I specifically requested that he recommend someone who, because of his own experience, would empathize with a desire for freedom above that for comfort, safety, even life; someone that shared my extreme need for a new beginning; and ......"

She abruptly went silent and reached for the glass of vodka. He captured her hand with his and held it pressed against the table just short of her goal. She had finally gotten to it, the reason for the big payday.

"And?"

She took a very deep breath, exhaled slowly and then inhaled again.

"Someone hiding from people just a dangerous and powerful as those I wish to escape and would, therefore, be unable to betray me without betraying himself to consequences most probably worse than those I would suffer."

Riddick released her hand. She reached for the Coke instead of the vodka and took a large drink. He smirked: dry throat. But he put points on her side of the books. She might be green as grass but she wasn't stupid. That sweet body held a sharp, cunning, gutsy mind. Now, he understood why the payday had been so enticing. It had been tailored to be the prefect bait for someone like him. The thought crossed his mind that they might be getting a better class of mercs these days. He needed to find out just how far her innocent act would play.
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Jenna was grateful for the acid cut of the Coke. It was very effective in removing the cotton from her mouth and throat. She had just made herself a very real threat to a man who was inclined to deal with threats quite severely. As time dragged on without his making any reply to this, her anxiety grew. Then she sat the glass of Coke back on the table. Suddenly his upper body was turned toward her and a massive arm across her chest pinned her against the back of the bench. As she stared into reflective lenses, she felt a whisper touch against her inner thigh. It moved higher and higher, pulling her skirt with it, then stopped. Looking down, she saw the glint of a wickedly beautiful curved blade laying against the tender flesh at the top of her leg. It was perfectly positioned to sever the femoral artery with one short slash. When he finally spoke, it was a relief. Not a great one but sufficient for the moment. He was talking not cutting.

"Didn't think that hangin' with a badass like that could be dangerous, sweet thing?"

She had expected this sort of reaction and tried to prepare for it. However, the scenarios that her imagination had been capable of creating were pale ghosts compared to the reality. The cold savage strength that emanated from him was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Her mind quickly corrected that. There had been whispers of it watching the big cats behind the bars of their enclosures. Whispers that had fascinated and captivated her to the extent that she rarely visited any other part of the zoo. Now, experiencing the full effect sans protective barriers, in the beast's own environment as it were, she knew just how soft those whispers had been.

But this was no animal, no alien mind with nothing but basic instincts and needs. This was a man with human intellect and motivation. By speaking, he had shown that he was functioning on that higher level. Still, man or animal the first rule was the same. Show no fear. She struggled to keep her voice calm and steady.

"It occurred to me. I decided that it was less dangerous than risking betrayal. It was also a danger that I felt capable of mitigating."

"How?"

There was no decrease in his intimidating aura but he was continuing the conversation, no matter how tersely.

"I specified a man whose reputation for honoring his contracts was unquestionable, one who would consider it bad form to slash an employer's throat for the further profit of his possessions, and ......." she took a deep breath and plunged on. "A man who might seduce a woman but would never force her; one with whom a woman would be as safe as she chose to be. Mr. G has given you a glowing reference on both those points."

His chuckle surprised her. There was real humor in it.

"Freddie G. would give glowing references to Jack the Ripper if there was a big enough commission in it. It happens that this time he got it right. I'm no rapist and I keep my contracts. 'Bad form, huh?' Yeah, that's one way to put it." The amused tone disappeared just as quickly as it had arisen. "There's something else that's 'bad form' in my book. That's being a merc looking to collect on my ass. You need to start figuring out how to convince me that you're not."

This took Jenna completely by surprise.

"Me? a merc? ....... You suspect me of being a .... a bounty hunter?"

"Yes"

"Oh ..... oh, my."
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Damn! She looked pleased. She sounded pleased. She acted like his accusing her of being a fucking merc was a compliment.

"That is not a good thing for me to be thinking, sweet thing."

He watched her closely. He could see the change as logic conquered emotion.

"Yes, of course it isn't. I apologize. Obviously I don't have the same knowledge of mercs as you have. You will need to tell me how I can prove to you that I am not one."

He targeted the one piece of information that she had been very careful not to reveal. What she said probably wouldn't tell him anything but the way she said it might. He was right about that.

"Tell me who you're running from. Who owns your cage?"

"No!"

Her body stiffened but she had enough control not to move, not to risk being cut. Her eyes were defiant but he could smell her fear. For the first time, he could smell fear on her and he and his shiv weren't what she was afraid of. She had said "a desire for freedom above .... even life". Now, he believed her. It still might be a trap but she wasn't the one after the bounty. He released her, replaced his shiv in the pocket at the back of his belt and sat back.

"Drink up. We're getting out of here."

She ignored the Coke and took a heavy drink of the vodka. This time she didn't choke on it. He stood up and away from the booth, allowing her room to get out. Picking up both liquor bottles by the necks with one hand, he wrapped the same arm around her waist, leaving his shiv hand free. He pulled her close against his side and walked her out of the bar.

As he continued walking across the street and then along it toward the river warehouse district, she had no problem keeping up with his natural stride. An image of those long lovely legs came to mind and he wondered what the view would be if he was following her instead of walking beside her. He filed that thought for future investigation. Even if his play hadn't required the 'we're a couple' act, the feel of her body massaging his was a lot better than just watching. But if he appreciated her physical attributes, he appreciated her quiet acceptance of his lead and lack of questions even more.

He hadn't allowed his thoughts about the woman interfere with his awareness of everything else around them. After only two blocks, he was certain that what he had suspected would happen was happening. They were being followed. He turned right, walked another block and turned left, another block and right again. At this last turn, he again smelled fear from her. He was expecting her strained whisper when it came but wasn't expecting the question it asked.

"We are being followed aren't we?"

"Yes"

"I want him alive, Mr. Riddle. I must be able to question him."

What she said was astonishing enough but the tone of command with which it was said almost made him miss-step. Her thought matched his own. But even if it hadn't, there was no way he was going to pass on seeing where she was going with it. She had been just one puzzle after another ever since she had walked through the door of that bar. He was suddenly very determined to keep her around, her way or his, until he put all her pieces together.

He made his next turn into an alley, a very dark alley, pulling off his shades as he did. A short way into the darkness, he pushed her behind a dumpster and against the side of the building. Shoving the liquor bottles into her hands, he stared hard into her eyes.

"Don't move."

She didn't speak aloud, only mouthed something. He turned away and was several steps back down the alley toward his quarry when he finally realized what she had said.

"Beautiful."

Part of his mind screamed, "What was that?" Another part screamed, "Not now!!"

He barely made it into the dense shadow of the wall when a pale, rat like face peered around the corner of the building. He recognized it. The name that went with it was Jeeter and the little weasel worked for Freddie G. That the man's slightly olive complexion was shining like death in the moon light, told Riddick he wasn't enjoying this job one little bit. At that point Riddick's inclination was to leave Jeeter unconscious in the alley and head straight for Freddie G. But his curiosity about what the woman intended to do with him won out. As soon as Jeeter stepped into the alley he grabbed him by the back of the neck, raised him on tip toe and danced him down the alley to where she was waiting.

"Here he is. What do you want to do with him."

Maybe the shock of his capture was wearing off or maybe finding out that his fate lay in a woman's hands gave Jeeter some courage.

"Barrol knows me, lady. I work for Mr. G."

Riddick smiled. Jeeter's voice was even more squeaky that usual do to the constriction of Riddick's hand around his neck.

"I see. What is your name?"

Her voice was gentle, soft, but Riddick heard what was underneath that. Jeeter didn't.

"Jeeter, ma'am."

"Well, Mr. Jeeter, why are you following us?"

He could see the surprise on Jeeter's face and knew the reason for it. This was probably the first time in the man's life that someone had added anything to his name but derogatory adjectives.

"Mr. G told me to. .... ahh ..... he was kinda worried, you know. Just wanted to make sure you was all right........ Please, can Barrol let me down...... It's real uncomfortable ....... the way he's got me."

He knew Jeeter was lying. Freddie G had ordered him to follow them but the woman's safety wasn't the reason. Freddie G wasn't what you would call the caring type. Her reply told Riddick that she didn't believe Jeeter any more than he did.

"No, Mr. Jeeter. Mr. Barrol can't release you. I wish to move to some place private, with a little more light, and discuss this a bit more and I don't believe that I can trust you to accompany us without his assistance." She shifted her attention to Riddick. "If you will Mr. Barrol. Please take the lead with Mr. Jeeter and I will follow."

It took Jeeter a moment to realize what she intended. He went ballistic with fear. Riddick was at the point of having to release his grip on the man's neck to keep from breaking it when he suddenly drooped in a dead faint from the impeded circulation to his brain. Tossing the scrawny little man's limp body over his shoulder, upper body in front so he could keep an eye on his hands, Riddick took the woman's arm and led her out of the alley. As soon as they reached the light of the street, he had to release her to put on the dark glasses once again but he motioned her to stay beside him. The slightly amused expression on her face told him that she knew he didn't trust her to walk at his back.

He searched his memory for someplace close that would fit her description. At this time of night, the whole area was deserted and the alley would have done fine for him but she needed light. As he walked on step after step without a destination, the full import of the mistake he had been about to make, before being offered this contract, hit him. The greater part of his carefully acquired and honed survival skills was based on his ability to see when others couldn't. His knowledge of the world around him was equally effected. Reversing his shine wouldn't have turned him into a day creature again. It would have made him a severely crippled creature of the night until he had a long, long time to readjust. He had to get rid of the prison shine but he was no longer willing to settle for anything less than a righteous job to replace it. The only way to get that was to take this contract.

This unpleasant realization added to the irritation at not being able to think of a place to take Jeeter was putting him in a pretty foul mood. The woman's question, when she finally broke the silence, topped it off.

"Where are we going, Mr. Barrol?"

He stopped walking and, grabbing her shoulder, turned her to face him. He really didn't care when his voice revealed a lot more of his anger than he intended.

"I really have no fucking idea. Since you're the one who needs light, you think of something."

This was where she was supposed to cringe away from him like a frightened rabbit. Not what happened. Setting the liquor bottles on the sidewalk, she raised one hand to his face, making a shield against the glare of the nearby street light, and with the other she lifted his shades and looked directly into his eyes. She didn't say the word but he could hear it in her soft sigh. "Beautiful."

Shit! This just didn't happen to Big Evil. Stunned, his mind was still trying to decide what he should do about it when he realized that his body had already made that decision. His dick was as hard as if she had put those hands on his crotch. He was trying to control his urge to throw Jeeter down and put her against a wall when she turned logical on him again.

"I have read about this in my research. The description of its appearance was ...... highly inadequate. The description of its advantages and disadvantages seems to have been less so." She replaced his shades and lowered her hands. "I have a suitable place but you must take my contract before I would be willing to take you there."

He hesitated. This felt just a little too much like blackmail. Then his other side went off on him. Hell, Riddick, are you being stupid-stubborn just to prove a point or have you become completely paranoid. The last thing any merc is going to think about a shine job is that it's beautiful. Any way, if she's righteous, this contract is the best chance you are ever going to get; if she isn't, you don't have to be either.

"You've just hired yourself a badass."