Close Encounters of the Concrete Kind
By FlyingKit aka Christine
Note; std disclaimers apply. I am a NON PROFIT gal with no earthy thoughts , or heavenly for that matter, of making ANY kind of moola for this luverly little tale.
this chapter is dedicated to Pauly Shore. A sin, I recently confessed to my fav priest and counselor. Please don't hold it against me. C.)
Chapter 13
The walk to the war-room was a long one. Much longer than the 5 minutes it actually took to get there. I kept gawking at my surroundings. I had never been to this Rangeman complex before. Everything was utilitarian but upscale. A tasteful minimalist look, if you will. And one that cost more money than I would ever see in one lifetime, let alone if I sold a kidney or something. I wonder if we are still in Trenton? I mean, with the helicopter ride and all we could be almost anywhere. I had no clue. Huh, that's probably why Tank did it. He knew that I couldn't track my way out here since we arrived by air, Crafty Devil. When we turned the last corner I knew the games had already begun. Les was standing guard outside the door.
"Hey Unca Les!" I breezed lightly. "What's shakin'?"
He looked incredulously at me. "Well, the roof soon…" he mumbled.
I made like I was going to dart around him to open the door and Lester stopped me with a gentle tug on my shirt. I felt like the road runner. My feet were still spinning in mid-air. When he set me back on the ground, I looked up into his gorgeous face.
"HEY! Watch the threads! They're designer you know." I sniffed at him disdainfully. He started to grin but stopped short of the full enchilada.
"Uh, Steph. Not a good idea right now. Orders are to give them a few minutes. Absolutely no interruptions."
"Give who a few minutes?" I propped my hands on my hips and stared him down, Wild West style.
"Uh, no can do, Stephanie. On a need to know basis." I glared.
"And YOU" I poked him in the chest, "don't think that I need to know, HUH!"
"Cut me some slack, Stephanie. It's been a rough morning."
"Preachin' to the choir buddy!" He finally grinned.
"Yeah." He sobered. "But forming a bond with me ain't gonna cut you any slack. I already know what our relationship is. You can't use it to make me look the other way so you slip inside!"
"Would I do such a thing!" I fluttered at him innocently.
He chuckled. "Yeah, Beautiful, you would."
"Oh, finally! I thought you had forgotten that nickname. I thought we had gone to a weird place. I don't know how to deal with you when you aren't trying to cop a feel and whisper sweet nothings in my ear."
He stepped forward and backed me against the wall next to the doorway. He leaned in, with hands on either side of my head, invading my personal space. "I can show you SOMETHING sweet, baby girl." He wiggled his eyebrows.
I pushed on his chest and growled: "Violating the 12 inch rule, Unca Lech!" I shut my eyes realizing…
Lester leaned in and breathed against my neck: "Twelve inches, huh? I feel flattered." DAMMIT. That's what I get for speaking before I think.
"Retract your tentacles, Lechy, before I am forced to get ugly on your hiney!" I poke him in the chest repeatedly emphasizing my point. "And don't think I mean in the looks dept! I can still dish out a good beat down, I had a good teacher!"
Before he could respond, he disappeared from my sight. I looked over at Stone who was grinning wickedly and holding Lester down on the floor with a boot to the nape of his neck.
"I owed you one, Jersey." He said by way of explanation when I gaped at him in wonder. "Besides, I like it when you make that fish-face. Kinda reminds me of that Nemo character. Do you share the same markings on your skin? Shall we check?" He released Lester without losing track of where he was and crossed his arms over his chest. "I play doctor well, remember?" He raised his furry brow suggestively.
I crossed the space between us and made my move. I faked a jab to the ribs and when he went to block I frapped him in the back of the head with my hand. "Look here, Doctor Doolittle! It's illegal in about 49 states to do what you are thinkin'. So put your stethoscope away. There ain't no grope and poke in your future!" I growled.
All this time Les was still sitting on the floor, looking up at the two of us in wonder. "If I didn't see it with my own eyes I wouldn't believe it!"He turned to face me head on. "What did you do to him!" He gestured to Stone with a head bob. "I would never have thought he had a sense of humor. Christ almighty! It's like finding out that you can get blood from a turnip! Or in this case a stone." He shook his head in disbelief.
I volleyed my looks between Les and Stone. What! He has never cracked a joke around these guys! I wanted to scratch my head, perplexed beyond all reason. THE MAN that had NEVER stopped making wise cracks since I arrived…without a sense of humor! Wonders never cease!
"Look, Les." Stone gestured to me. "You made her speechless. I never would have thought it possible without 2 tons of masking tape and concrete shoes."
"Two in one day…" Les stuttered and looked out the window. "The guys will never believe this…" He got up on his feet still gazing out the window, sightlessly.
"Uh, Les. Whatcha lookin' at?" I ventured, worried.
Stone cut off any response Les might have made. "He's probably looking for the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Being end times and all…"
With that he chuckled and leaned back against the wall to watch Les and I…Dumb and Dumber.
Les just gaped at Stone and I in turn. He walked over to me and said: "You have a habit of making guys do the strangest things, Beautiful. Not that I'd complain, but…"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean!" I went into an Amazon battle stance, ready to take out this fowl specimen before me.
"Well, first Ranger. And well, Tank too. He has never taken the time or initiative to train a new recruit. And never a woman… OH! And let's not forget Bobby. The man who is currently serving his ass on a platter even now because of…" he groaned.
"So, Bobby is in there, huh?" I patted him on the back. "Thanks for the info, Les. Couldn't have done it without you…"
"He's gonna kill me!"
"Which one?"
"Pick one! Any of the three will do it!" He groaned again. "DAMMIT! How do you do that! I know what you are capable of, and yet I still walk into your traps. Maybe it's time for retirement. Bested by a novice…"
"It's okay, Gramps. There comes a time in every horse's life when…"
"If you say 'to be put out to pasture', I'll strangle you."
"Nah. I was gonna say 'the glue factory is the only humane option,' but whatever floats your boat." I shrugged while Les dropped his head in his hands.
"She thinks she is so DAMN cute! ARGGHhh!"
Stone walked over to me and slung an arm around my shoulders possessively. "I think she is too." He tweaked my nose. "Just look at her. Like biscuits and gravy."
"Uh, thanks I think." I mumbled.
"Well, you can have her!" Lester muttered loudly.
"What a good idea, Lester." With that he turned to face me. "Remember that question that could wait 'til later, Jersey?"
Where's he going with this? I nodded dumbly. "Uh-yeah."
His eyes twinkled. "It's later."
"Shoot." I have no idea where he is going with this. He pulled me into an embrace and smiled down into my face.
"How'd ya like to go out with me Saturday night? 8 o'clock. Dinner and dancin'. A real grown up date. A guided tour around your home turf, if you will… Whatcha think? How 'bout it?" He waited patiently with a twinkle in his eye.
Shit. This DEFINETLY wasn't the expected destination. I was flabbergasted!
"Uh…well, isn't that a bit like Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader going out? I mean, hello! Mortal enemies and all! Lord Vader didn't cut off Luke's hand and then smile and say: 'Gee, maybe we could get together for a coffee or something later.' OH No! That's just messed up."
Stone just continued to smile. I squirmed in his grasp, but he didn't release me. "Now, Jersey…" He clucked his tongue at me. "It's not mortal combat. We can still trade barbs AND kisses. Think about it and get back to me. Oh! And by the way…gross! Incest is not cool. I knew rednecks liked that sorta thing but I'm surprised at you."
I just gaped stunned at him. "There is no way, you hear me! N-O-W-A-Y that we are going out together! It's just wrong somehow…" I grumbled.
"Don't worry." He chuckled and released me but still kept an arm slung low across the small of my back, sending shivers down my spine to my toes. "I won't let you off that easily. I'll keep askin'. I find that 'resistance is futile'. You will eventually give in to me." He wiggled his eyebrows at me.
"Uh, no I won't! I'm not that desperate, really! Besides let's address this new issue. I never figured you for a Trekkie, Pebbles. Maybe a Dungons and Dragons type but…Trekkie. NAH! Too many big words for you to misinterpret."
"Oh Ho. Te he. It 'tis funny. Oh, har har. What it is to laugh."
"Shut up, Daffy."
Lester finally recovered. "You two are crazy! Freakin' certifiable! And you!" He thrust a finger at me. " YOU need to stop charming every Y chromosome you come across! You are like kryptonite! I never thought I would see this killer rock crack a joke, never mind see him date! GOOD LORD! Maybe it is the apocalypse! You two look like harvengers of death. Mine, I might add. Oh yeah." He shook his head in amazement. "Never thought I would live to see the day the 'Dark Assassin' would laugh."
Stone immediately tensed. "LESTER." Oh shit! That's a new tone for Stone. "You might still get to see that day…it could be today."
Lester giggled nervously. LESTER! GIGGLING LIKE A SCHOOL GIRL! This WAS a landmark day in history!
"Oh yeah. Sorry. Won't happen again." Oh GAWD! Now he's shuffling his feet! What next? Blushing?
"See that it doesn't." Stone growled. Poor Lester. He is taking a beating from everyone today. Well, better for me not to be alone in my torment. I sighed.
BANG! CRASH!
What the! I turned to look at Les and Stone. When my eyes came back to rest on Les I growled: "GET OUT OF MY WAY, SANTOS!"
He blocked the door again, even though I could tell he was worried too. "NO WAY!"
"Move it or lose it!"
Before I could think of a maneuver to use on Lester, Stone stepped up.
"Come on, Santos. Just move. I agree with her and I've got her back. Don't make me rearrange your anatomy." He stated coolly.
Lester sighed in defeat. "Fine. Nuts! Someone has to punch me here. "He gestured to his face. "That way I won't get busted down to private for this stunt." Before Stone could respond, I smirked: "My pleasure, Lechy Baby!' and planted an uppercut to his cheekbone. He must not have been ready for it, because he fell on his butt.
"DAMN. I should have known…"
"Yeah, well. Now you are home free. Open up and get outta my way!"
He stood and unlocked the door giving the key to Stone as he stepped back. "May God go with you." He stated solemnly.
"Yeah, I have something righteous on my side all right!" I said while shaking my fist at my side. "Let's go, Stone."
Stone just chuckled. "I've got the flank. You take point." HUH? Whatever. I guess that means I am going in first. Cool. Wouldn't have it any other way. I turned the doorknob…
To be continued in chapter 14…
Close Encounters of the Concrete Kind
By FlyingKit aka Christine
Note; std disclaimers apply. I am a NON-PROFIT gal with no earthy thoughts, or heavenly for that matter, of making ANY kind of moola for this luverly little tale.
Dedicated to our new authors…Ice, Meghan, Kristi, Sarah… who have bravely taken up the gauntlet. I am really enjoying your stuff. Keep 'em comin'. And to all our seasoned veterans…keep 'em coming too! I am addicted and need my fix. I have the shakes…need more…swallowing hard ugh. I hate withdrawal. C.)
Chapter 14
Meanwhile…in the war room…several minutes prior…Tank clenched and unclenched his fists while watching Ranger pace the room. Back and forth. Back and forth. He felt his anger and disbelief war within himself along that same ebb and flow rhythm. He couldn't believe that Steph would choose Bobby. It's not that there was anything wrong with the man it was just that he was Tank's friend and not… Oh Fuck. He shut his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. Why didn't he see it before? He should know the warning signs intimately by now since he watched his best friend fall in love with the exact same woman. Tank groaned, low and feral. Well, he might be his former best friend after this revelation. What was he going to do? Well, for starters he would stop this thing with Bobby in its tracks! Tank grimaced and plotted. He jerked his head up and looked at Ranger. He sure as hell was not going to screw things up like Ric did. This was something that had to be handled delicately but in a straight forward manner. He didn't want to end up saying and doing all the things that his friend had. Man, if Ric had just opened his eyes and said what he felt… No, he wouldn't make those same mistakes. He stroked his head absently and then pushed off the wall to cross the room to the intercom system.
Meanwhile…(again) Int. Bobby's Bedroom…
Les looked at Bobby and frowned. "Dammit Brown! What the hell are you thinking! What are you doing! He's gonna kill you, ya know? D-E-A-D. Dead!"
Les started stalking the room like a rampaging gorilla at the zoo. Bobby watched him and wondered when he would finally flip out and eat a tourist. He smiled to himself at that picture.
"Dammit! What the fuck are you smiling for! Jesus! Don't you get it? You are going in that room and Ranger is gonna rip off your head and if you're lucky, he won't string you up by your balls afterwards!"
"Calm down, Les. You know, you can be such a drama queen sometimes…"
"Goddammit! NO! Don't tell me I'm overreacting here!" He lunged at Bobby and pinned him to the wall in a choke hold with his forearm. He leaned in, practically spitting in his face. "YOU tell me to calm down…YOU, the man who was just declaring his love for his boss's woman. YOU, the man who is seeing said boss in the next few minutes. FUCKIN' YOU, The IDIOT that will die a horrific death and his poor partner will be forced to clean up the mess YOUR body makes! JESUS! You just don't GET IT!" Lester thrust away from Bobby violently. Most likely in an effort not to take the choke hold to a more serious level. "Fuck man! Look what you are doing to ME!" He spied something on the floor and picked it up. Les leaned over and thrust Stephanie's pants in Bobby's face. "LOOK WHAT are you DOING to HER! How could she do this…"
He was cut off by a fist to the kidney and fell to the floor in a limp boneless pile.
"Watch what you say about Steph, man!" Bobby raged over Les, his partner for the last 4 years. He shook his head in disgust. The one man he thought would understand. It figured. "I love her. Yes, she loves me. But it's a familiar love. A Brother-Sister thing. I should be so lucky to find someone like her, to fall in love with, but we don't have that. We LOVE each other because she is my family and I am hers. DAMMIT! I may not be blood but I have taken better care for her feelings and health than any of those damn judgmental Plums!"
He stood over Les and sighed. Lester thought that Bobby may have finally snapped also, and was about to kick his ass. Hell, he should. He felt like an ass.
Bobby surprised him by thrusting a hand down in Lester's face, offering him a hand up. Les wasn't suicidal. He took it.
"Look, man, I'm sorry. I walked in and saw you two together and I jumped to conclusions. Especially hearing the Bomber declare her love for you. I mean, wow. You'd have been a little confused too. That statement from the woman who emotes about as well as Ranger. It's no wonder they never hooked up. They, both, are too weirded out by feelings." He paused. "Well, I thought they BOTH were. I guess Steph is different." Lester felt perplexed right now and he wanted to go lie down and take a longgggg nap. Just like Rip Van Winkle. Hey, it works for Steph! Why couldn't it work for him? He was willing to try avoidance for once.
"Oh, I think that they DEFINETLY hooked up. Let's just say the boss's reaction this morning left no doubt about that. But it has done one thing."
"What's that?"
"It's pissed her off. She's confused and hurt." Bobby shot Les a significant look…which Lester correctly interpreted.
"Shit! And I thought you and Ranger being in the same room was gonna be bad…It's gonna be world war three down there!" Lester flopped down on the bed and cradled his injured side. "Jesus." He looked back up at Bobby. "Can things get any worse? Shit. DON'T answer that! Just try to keep the body count down, okay? I was serious about that body cleanup comment. I hate being the cleaner. Fucking blood never comes outta my clothes."
"I can't make promises, man. When's the last time any of us could predict a situation between Steph and Ranger?"
"Okay. Never. I got it." Les groaned.
"Yeah. That's right, never. Plus now she'd trained, armed and dangerous. Well…maybe not lethally armed." Bobby grinned. "I managed to hang on to her gun." He said gesturing to said weapon before putting it in the waistband of his pants in the small of his back and throwing a shirt on. "Now we just have to keep her from it."
"No, Bobby. You're wrong there." Les grinned. "YOU have to keep her from it. Ten to One says that Tank and Ranger ban me from the room. Betcha next week's pay on it."
"I'll take that bet. Tank can't want Ranger and I loose without more muscle in the room."
The two men shook on it to seal the deal.
"Shit. We better get going…"
Just then a buzz sounded and Tank's disembodied voice boomed out of the speaker of the intercom. "SANTOS!"
"Fuuuuckkk…"
"I HEARD THAT, SANTOS. GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE. PLAYTIME IS OVER…AND BRING BROWN DOWN HERE ASAP! NO FUCKING JERKING OFF, EITHER. I WANT YOU TWO HERE YESTERDAY!"
With that they heard the signal of the intercom clicking off. Bobby and Lester's eyes met over the bed. Both aware they were in for one fucking wild ride.
"The Lord so sayeth and so shall we obey," Lester joked.
"Yeah. Laugh now. It may be the last time for quite awhile…"
"You're right. Too bad there isn't time for a shot of liquid courage." Lester bemoaned as they walked to the door side by side. Before they reached the hallway, Bobby grabbed Lester's shoulder and stopped his forward motion.
"There's something you should know, Lester."
"Brown, if you tell me you love me I'll kill you." Lester quipped. Bobby didn't laugh.
"Close, but not quite. She loves him, man. He left her and never told her ANYTHING. Never told her why he was leaving." Bobby let that sink in, before speaking again. "And I think that they slept together without things being cleared up."
"GAWD DAMN." Lester slammed his fist against the very door that Ranger had decimated that very morning. "Can't they do anything the easy way?"
"No. What's worse is that I think there may be something more to this situation. Something that may have mucked things up even worse. I don't think that she should take him back. He doesn't deserve it. He obviously screwed himself royal this time."
"You are just saying that because of Junie…"
"Don't mention her name again, Lester." Bobby growled.
Lester held his hands up, warding off Bobby's wrath. "Look, man. I just meant you two are going to have to talk about it and resolve things or…"
"There is nothing to resolve. She's dead. And so is my relationship with him. Don't bring it up again." With that Bobby strode from the room, leaving Lester staring after him. This was going to be one bass ackward day, Les was sure of it.
To be continued in chapter 15…
Close Encounters of the Concrete Kind
By FlyingKit aka Christine
Note; std disclaimers apply. I am a NON-PROFIT gal with no earthy thoughts, or heavenly for that matter, of making ANY kind of moola for this luverly little tale.
This is one chapter that appeared only due to threats of flying monkeys, a couple shots of tequila (don't ask) and one HORRIBLE nightmare. Who needs a muse when flying monkeys are harassing you? grimacing sorry, I didn't mean it muse-baby! Please don't leave me for another gal! I promise, baby, I'll be good. poutingC.)
Chapter 15
This is the end of the road, Les thought and tried to swallow ideas of escape. He may be one bad mamba jamba ex-ranger muscle head, but he knew his limitations. Not to mention good survival instincts. He had to do one thing first before they went to battle. He managed to jog up and catch Bobby by the shoulder before he could reach the conference room door.
"Hey man. Wait up." When Bobby turned to face him, Lester saw that he was still spoiling for a fight. Shit, this wasn't good. If Bobby went in there with that look on his face you might as well roll out the body bags now. Les decided to take one for the team, literally.
"Look," he said while dropping his hand from the aforementioned shoulder at the death glare he receives. He cleared his throat. "Look, man. Listen up, 'cause I don't admit this much. I was wrong earlier about Steph and asking about..." at the dark look Lester amended, "er... and about you-know-who. I know you said not to mention it, but I honestly think that it needed to be said. AND before you go tearing my head off…I just wanted to let you know, you were right. I should not have brought that up right now." He gazed at Bobby trying to read his volcanic eruption status. Hmm, still looks habitable on the island, might as well go for broke. "If it makes you feel better, slug me. I have it comin'. Really, I do. I won't hold it…OOOHHHFFPPttt!"
Okay, wrong again, Santos. Hot magma was pouring down around his ears. He was never going to change vocations to vulcanite.
He stared at Brown warily before Bobby again offered Lester a hand up to his feet. Once he was restored to a vertical position, Lester rubbed his jaw.
"I am starting to think that I should just paint a bull's-eye on my head. Would simplify things." Lester groaned.
"Well, it would improve my aim and you do act like an ass a lot, might be a prudent idea." Bobby quipped and grinned. "It's alright man. We're good. Oh and thanks."
"For what?"
"For letting me wail on a safe target. It helped. I don't feel near as homicidal now. Merely…" Bobby searched for the appropriate word. "Merely crazed and disturbed." Bobby wanted to laugh at the incredulous look on Lester's face.
"Damn. And here I thought I was being all subtle like." Les snorted. "Figures. Well, anyway, glad to help. Good to know I am good for something 'round here. Do you think Tank will let me add 'Official Punching Bag' to my business card?"
Bobby laughed and slapped Les on the back. "Nah, he would probably just offer to take your cards away completely." Bobby looked at Les and sobered. "Thanks again man, you're a good partner. I won't forget this." He leaned over and the two men embraced in the awkward one-arm-and-fist-thump maneuver that men are so good at performing and then stepped away.
"Yeah, yeah. That's what you say…until the next time you punch me. I'm not holding my breath." The two men laughed for a moment releasing some of their tension. After it died down, they regarded each other silently.
"Well, time to face the executioner. Do you think we will even get around to the official meeting afterwards?" Les pondered out loud.
"Yeah, Ranger is efficiently all business, even after murder. You should know that." They both were silent at that thought. "Come on, Les. Let's go. No point in delaying the inevitable. What's the worst that could happen?"
"Why did you have to go and say that, JESUS!" Les shuddered.
"It's now or never."
"I vote for never."
"Chicken liver."
"Yeah, well, at least I'd be a safe chicken liver." Les observed.
Bobby pushed Les forward towards the door. "C'mon."
Lester paused to cross himself. (It always worked for his mama.) He opened the door and strode inside with Bobby trailing confidently behind.
"WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN!"
Lester exchanged a look with Bobby over his shoulder. They were so fucked.
"We're here, boss."
"Oh yeah. NOW you are. WHAT IN THE HELL TOOK SO LONG, HUH? I said YESTERDAY! Are you deaf now, SANTOS?"
Lester and Bobby both were stunned to a certain degree. If Ranger was the all business Mercurial Man, Tank was the Ice Man in contrast. He never let things get to him, Fuckin' NEVER. Even now with their former boss tearing a new hole in his ass, Tank should not have been this angry. Bobby and Les both separately wondered how to handle this new complication, without success.
"Uh… No, Sir." Les snuck a glance at the wall clock. Shit. It had only been five minutes since Tank had paged them from Mount Olympus. "We followed orders, Sir. Reporting for briefing, Sir." Les barely controlled the urge to salute. He was falling back to basic training behavioral safeguards. He hadn't been this unsure of anything in his life since... well…since he was in basic training. This is bad. Hell, at one point he even was the one busting balls when he was in charge. Now he was counting them. Damn, talk about regression.
"Goddammit, Santos! If I can't TRUST you to show up on TIME, how can I trust you to…" Tank clenched his jaw shut. "Forget it. JUST GET OUT."
HUH? Les and Bobby exchanged another covert look. Okay, Les knew he would be kicked out. And yeah, now he would win the bet, but it wasn't going down the way he imagined. Bobby shrugged at Lester's visual plea for aid.
"Uh, Boss. Don't you think that maybe you might need me here?" He said shooting a look to point out Ranger while he spoke. Evidently Tank didn't appreciate that. "SANTOS, if you were paid to think for me I'd tell you! Now GET OUT. We need a few minutes. YOUR JOB is to make sure there are absolutely no interruptionsGot that! Or am I going too fast for you!"
Hell No, Les thought but what he said was: "Yes, Sir! Right away, Sir!" With that he turned at attention and walked toward the door to leave. When he passed by Bobby he whispered: "Better make that cold, hard cash, Brown. The bank won't cash a check from a dead man."
Bobby might have found the humor in that comment had he not been about to be ground up like dog chow. Especially since the man running the grinder was not the man he expected. He sighed.
"WHAT'S THAT, SANTOS! DID YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO ADD?"
Fuuucckk.
"NO, SIR! NOTHING TO ADD, SIR!"
"Good. Dismissed."
With that, Les released a mental sigh and left. It would be safer on the other side of that door anyway. Now he had nothing to worry about, except for, you know, scraping up bloody body parts later.
Bobby, on the other hand, was gearing up for major damage control. Lord knows what Ranger had told Tank to make him this angry. Hell, the fact that Ranger had yet to say ONE word, had Bobby worried. There may have been some loyalty between Bobby and Ranger at one point and time but it had long since died, long before this newest epic saga with Stephanie. The good thing was that though Ranger stilled owned Rangeman Inc. he didn't have complete control of the Trenton office anymore. That was given over to Tank when Ranger left over seven months ago. Bobby breathed a sigh of relief at that. At least he knew he wasn't going to be fired right off the bat. Tank was a stable guy. He wouldn't let Ranger go that far in search of vengeance.
"Tank, I…"
"BROWN, SIT DOWN."
This was not going well. Understatement of the century. If he could just get Tank's attention for a few minutes he was sure things would be cleared up and Tank would back down. So, therefore, Bobby didn't debate sitting down. He just did it. He waited for Tank to speak. He was a quick study, that Bobby.
"Before we have our tactical meeting about the recent breech in security I think we should clear something up." Good, thought Bobby, He might just be reasonable about this after all. "We need to clear up your role here at Rangeman." Okay, this was not going where he thought it was going. "From this moment on you are off all distractions, takedowns, and stakeouts. You have Comm Duty for the next six months, or how ever long I deem necessary."
"WHAT THE FUCK? This isn't about Comm Duty, Tank. This is about STEPHANIE! You don't want me working with her! Jesus! I thought the puppet master over there" he said thrust his finger in Ranger's direction, "was not pulling the strings anymore. Boy was I fucking mistaken!" Bobby raged. During the course of Tank's brow beating, he had leapt from his chair and circled the conference table to confront his former boss, face to face.
"That's it, huh, Ranger? You couldn't stand the thought that maybe another man is taking care of something you abandoned. Or is the fact that she WANTS ME in her life and not you!" He emphasized his point by shoving his finger in Ranger's brooding face. "YOU can't stand that she doesn't fucking need you anymore, nor does she want you! She has US now. The guys and I are the ones who have been helping her, training her these last few months. It's been US who have been teaching her everything her precious BATMAN wouldn't. You could never do that, HUH! No! That would have meant you would be helping to make her more independent and less needy. Then she wouldn't need you to come to her rescue anymore. Maybe then she wouldn't call you anymore. OH NO! It's all about Ranger and his fucking needs! You never could do anything for the sheer sake of helping someone. You never could be there for someone when the need you! YOU FAIL EVERY-fuckin'-TIME!" By this point Bobby was shaking in anger. Jaw clenched, fists balled menacingly, pacing like a wildcat eyeing it prey, waiting for it to show weakness. Tank interrupted before violence could erupt.
"HE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS DECISION, BROWN. IT'S MY CALL, MY COMPANY, AND MY OPINION AND MOTIVATION THAT COUNTS. MY…"
Ranger lunged from the spot he had appeared to be rooted in, and at Bobby's throat. Tank grabbed him before the shit hit the fan.
"LET ME GO TANK!" Ranger spewed.
"NO FUCKING WAY."
Bobby chose that moment to add his two cents. "No TANK, let him try if he can! It's about time we danced. It's been COMING for a long time and we are WAY past overdue!" Bobby rounded Tank's shoulder and tried to pry him off Ranger to get a potshot. Tank was seriously regretting his earlier loss of control over his temper. Now Lester wasn't here to hold back the second fuckin' IDIOT. SHIT! THIS was why he didn't allow himself the luxury of losing control on regular basis. It had a tendency to bite him in ass!
"BACK OFF BROWN! YOU TOO RICARDO! We are gonna settle this like grown men not fuckin' GORILLAS! Hit your respective corners, NOW!" Shit when did he have to become Mills Lane! Tank grumbled mentally.
"Let him through, CHUCKIE. It's time for us to have this DANCE as this asshole puts it. I WELCOME IT! Though he's not much of challenge! YOU NEVER WERE A CHALLENGE, BROWN!
WHAT THE FUCK! Chuckie! CHUCKIE! FUCKIN' CHUCKIE! No way did he just say that! Tank fumed internally.
Ranger realized what he had just said and momentarily dismissed Bobby from his thoughts.
"What did you just call me?" Tank asked in a calm even voice. Most men, who knew the big man, knew there were several things you did not do with Tank. One: you never cracked jokes about his mama. Two: Never ask Tank about his woman. THREE, and the most important: Never, EVER call Tank by his given name, or even his middle name for that matter. The name he was given at birth was so foul to Tank that he didn't even acknowledge it as his own. His middle name was Charles, which by the half was not NEAR as bad as his first, BUT someone, back in the day, nicknamed Tank after a certain possessed toy doll. THAT NAME almost pissed him off as much as his given name. When silence met Tank's question he reiterated it, just in case someone had gone miraculously deaf in the last few seconds.
"I SAID: WHAT. DID. YOU. JUST. CALL. ME!" Tank was beyond the breaking point. Let these assholes kill each other. What the FUCK did he care! No one else apparently does. Let them do whatever they want to each other. HE was DONE! He was washing his hands of the whole thing. Tank walked over to Ranger and pushed him against the wall and searched him. He confiscated two guns, 2 knives and a set of brass knuckles. That was new. Usually Ric avoided those. Looks like things have changed, Tank mentally sighed. Guess he didn't know his friend that well anymore, but who the fuck cares. When he was done he shoved a startled Bobby to the conference table, bending him over on his stomach. He found only one gun on him and a single knife. Traveling light today, Tank smirked. Though he was confused about the gun, the Browning Hi-Power looked like Steph's. It just reminded Tank of where and when Bobby must have palmed it. Tank growled. OH YEAH. LET THEM FUCKING KILL EACH OTHER. Plus this way they have the added challenge of doing it with their bare hands. ASSHOLES. He backed away with all the paraphernalia tucked away on his person, except for the Browning, STEPH's BROWNING. He growled a second time, this one more feral and low. He walked over to the chair at the head of the table and sat regally, laying the gun on thigh with his palm over it, casually pointed in the general direction of the TWO IDIOTS.
Bobby was sufficiently startled by the growl. In fact he was so engrossed on keeping an eye on Tank as he backed away from the table that he didn't see or hear Ranger growl and lunge for him. Bobby hit the table with a loud BANG! Ranger maneuvered for Bobby's throat trying to get a forearm over his windpipe, but Bobby was not at the right angle and was able to roll away. The two men spun away like animals in heat, all legs and arms flying, with no other discernable shape.
Tank smirked, and tapped the gun possessively. He almost wanted to take out the winner of this little battle, whom ever it might be, just for the simple fact that both of the men were total emotional fuck-ups. Yes, if it weren't for the witnesses that were on the complex it was not a bad plan at all. Besides, he could always bribe the reluctant ones, he mentally plotted. BUT there was STEPH. Tank sighed, She wouldn't look the other way, Dammit! She wasn't that far in the game yet, a pity really. It might have been fun to teach these two a lesson. Just as he had that thought he finally saw Ranger get a solid grip on Bobby to choke him. The two men had sufficiently beaten the daylights out of each other while Tank had been plotting double homicide. What surprised all three men is when the table groaned. It was already cracked form earlier abuse and gave way. The two opponents rolled among the debris still angling for a death grip. Tank supposed he should stop this soon. He smirked and thought: Well, maybe in just one more minute… Just then a second crash was echoing through the appropriately named War-Room. The door lurched open to reveal a VERY angry Stephanie and a characteristically stoic Stone. Jesus, what else could go wrong. DAMN SANTOS! He was going to pull every shit job for millennia for this breech.
He smiled at Stephanie over the two, in spite of everything, tussling men and said: "WELCOME! Welcome. Happy to see we have an audience now. Pull up a seat."
He knew he had just punched a button that couldn't be recovered from. Stephanie stalked towards Tank, and stepped over the two men to reach him. Tank saw the gleam in her eye and could only speculate as to what she would do next. He would never in a million years have won any contest for his guess, because Steph slapped him hard across the face. Tank was beyond stunned. Slack-jawed with disbelief was more accurate. She moved fast and recovered the gun from Tank's possession. She motioned him over to stand near the two other IDIOTS and needlessly cocked the hammer. SHIT. Maybe he was wrong, Tank mused, She sure looked like she could look the other way now…
To be continued in chapter 16…
Close Encounters of the Concrete Kind
By FlyingKit aka Christine
Note; std disclaimers apply. I am a NON PROFIT gal with no earthy thoughts , or heavenly for that matter, of making ANY kind of moola for this luverly little tale.
To Ellie: in hopes that she will make a little rock N roll for us in the future…and that she'll throw us a bone of TEN &SIN. Here's to keeping hope alive. ROCK ON! clanging champagne flute against Marcie's helmet Heh heh! AND to Marcie who keeps me from biting too many of the pedestrians on the corner where we perform our little 'show.' C.)
Chapter 16
Stone just chuckled. "I've got the flank. You take point." HUH? Whatever. I guess that means I am going in first. Cool. Wouldn't have it any other way. I turned the doorknob…
To say I was angry would be an understatement. I thought I was pissed at Lester for keeping me out of this room but as I turned the doorknob I realized that was a mere drop in the bucket compared to what I was feeling now. The first sight that greeted my eyes was Bobby and Ranger locked together like two amateur wrestlers on the floor rolling in debris, which I can only guess, was formerly a table. Normally this might be intriguing since I am a fan of any sport that features men in small tight pants (I mean, have you ever seen the Rock! Hello!), but in this case I was making an exception. The two men that I thought were the most influential in my life and the most sane…were trying to kill each other! The two men in my life, the man I thought of as my brother and my… well… I guess ex-lover is the only correct word, were rolling like two hogs in a sty, for Petes's sake! Filthy animals! I just couldn't wrap my mind around it.
Even as I thought I had reached the zenith of my rage and incredulity, I spied Tank. That fucking asshole was just sitting there in a chair with a gun resting in his hand with an evil grin on his face looking for all the world like it was just another day at the races. One more cheap thrill to watch for amusement and profit. I'm not sure what that profit was but you can bet your ass I was gonna find out! No one, and I mean NO ONE, was gambling on this pony! And then, just when I thought that maybe I could dismiss this entire scene as just some random manic episode of idiotic masculine behavior, Tank spoke.
"WELCOME! Welcome. Happy to see we have an audience now. Pull up a seat."
I snapped. I entered a place I thought only existed in action or horror movies. You know the one. The place filled with bazookas, hand grenades, killer dogs, rocket launchers, semi-automatics with endless rounds of ammo and possessed cars. I was so angry I ceased to worry. In fact, I believe I ceased to think 'normal' rational thoughts. A burning heat seeped through my body. And to think I thought all those years 'seeing red' was just a colorful phrase used by housewives to scare the kiddies.
I dismissed the Moronic Duo still grappling on the floor and stepped over them to reach Tank. Which didn't even seem to matter anyway, they hadn't even bothered to stop long enough in their death match to acknowledge my presence. Huh, just goes to show what a lethal mix blood lust, stupidity and abundant testosterone could be. Or maybe that's an oxymoron, whatever. Well, they all were going to find out how dangerous a jersey girl on a mission could be! Okay, a jersey girl who just happened to be a bounty hunter with knowledge of army and martial art fighting skills…oh and did I mention my new found love of guns? Speaking of guns…
As I stalked towards Tank, I realized two things. The first was I didn't have my gun on me. The second point hit me like an Acme Anvil. THE asshole in front of me, the man I thought was Dr. Cool, the original Iceberg, a.k.a. Mister Freeze, was about to weather a tropical hurricane of mind numbing, spine tingling fury of Italian-Hungarian origin and he didn't even see it coming. THE FUCKIN' shit had my gun in his lap. MY precious Browning pointed at two formerly important men in my life. Now they were just cannon fodder to my quiet rage. The man in front of me would soon be classified in that same category, if I had anything to say about it. OH WAIT, I did.
When I reached him, I decided to go repo man on his dumb ass. I did the only thing I could think of to set him off guard. I slapped Tank. So fucking hard I think his ancestors were still spinning in their graves. While he stared dumbfounded at me, I snatched my gun in an elegant, sweeping slight of hand. He never even blinked. I suppose, on some level, he should have expected it. Hell, maybe he would have from anyone else but me. OH NO, Not from me! No, Stephanie would never DARE to do such a thing! Not sweet little Stephanie Plum! GRRRRR. Did they all think so little of me! Did they all fucking think I was just some fucking skirt? A form of amusement! The Burg's version of Barbie! Is that why they trained me and kept me around! OOOooooOOOoooo! NO MORE. NO FUCKIN' MORE! Today a new day would dawn, as god as my fuckin' witness!
I raised the gun one handed and pointed it at Tank, motioning him to stand near Dumb and Dumber still locked together like Siamese twins. Jesus! I cocked the hammer to add an exclamation mark to the statement of my actions. It was the only form of punctuation these lunk heads would understand. They're pretty dense, ya know. I gathered my thoughts and just took in the scene in front of me. I clinically examined my options. One: I can shoot only one of the men. Has merits but is not fulfilling. Two: I can shoot Bobby and Ranger. Again pleasurable, but doesn't quench my thirst for blood. Three: I can shoot all three stooges. A VERY fulfilling option. The beer chaser to my shot glass of feigned apathy. I let those ideas marinate in my brain. Hmmm…I think I like the last option the best. It would solve a lot of my problems. Yes, indeed-y. A lot of my problems would be solved then. No more Ranger fucking with my heart. No more Bobby fucking around with my head. No more Tank… well, I'm not sure what Tank did, besides piss me off. Hell, I'd find a reason later. I tapped my empty left hand against my thigh, beating out a tempo to a song only I could hear. Hmmm, looks like my insane place pipes Metallica in on the speakers. They must, because 'Enter Sandman' was repeating endlessly on a loop in my head; How apropos. I grinned maniacally and bobbed my head slightly, in time with the beat.
At that point the tunnel vision I was experiencing was starting to expand a bit. Stone had his gun out but seemed to drawing down on the slap-happy sisters while keeping an amused eye on me. Glad to know I was entertaining someone right now. I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes, but I did feel my mouth twitch at Stone's glance. I noticed that Lester had joined our little menagerie and was standing by Stone near the doorway, empty handed, dazed and confused. I think originally he might have been intending to break up the ongoing brawl; now he was just performing his rendition of Tom Cruise to my Rain man. Lester, Tank, and Stone all stood stock-still, watching me like I was the fox in the hen house. Hmmm, maybe I was. It was about time these c… err… roosters learned who was boss! I sighted down on the two, feathered fowl still fighting. Hmmm…That's kinda catchy. I'm a poet and didn't know it. I felt a giggle gurgle deep in my throat. I suppressed it with effort. I pulled my trigger. After the shot echoed through the room, I think it was safe to say I had their all their undivided attention.
Hewey and Dewey had finally stopped rolling. I guess a bullet ricocheting into the floor a mere foot from your head will do that. I smirked a little at that thought. Stone broke the silence first.
"Jersey, as much as I'd like to see these three horse whipped right 'bout now, I don't think playin' 'shoot the donkey in the ass' is gonna help matters much, darlin'.
"Oh it will help matters… It will make ME feel better. Now all I have to do, Stoney-baby, is decide which one gets it in the ass first. Decisions, decisions…" I thoughtfully sighted down on each of the three men as I mentally weighed their qualifications. Yet again I was rudely interrupted.
"JESUS Fucking CHRIST, STEPHANIE!What the HELL are you DOING! You could kill someone doing that! Are you fucking STUPID?"
Oh NO! He didn't. He really didn't. 'Cause if Ranger really did just say that… I think now I understand the mind of the serial killer, or at least the motivation behind it. Well look-y here, I guess I didn't have to decide who went first after all. The corners of my mouth started to twitch.
"Why Ranger, you sweet fucking talker, you! I can barely contain myself! Is this where I rip off all my clothes and beg you to fuck me blind? If so, please excuse me, I think I missed my cue. Really, I'm just curious…Is that REALLY what you thought would happen when you came back to Trenton? That you would lay down some of that patented batman mystique, a few come hither glances, and a snappy 'YO.' and my panties would spontaneously combust? That I would swoon at you feet, screaming AND PANTING!" I had started with my voice relatively calm and even, but by the end of my dissertation, it was shaking in pure rage.
The asshole stood there with a spasm over his left eye thumping and jaw locked. Huh. Guess, Mister Communicative doesn't have anything to add. What a change! I rolled my eyes at the thought. Most men would have let rip on me immediately, but Ranger wasn't most men and THAT was always our problem. I sighed.
"You honestly thought I would just go fuck Bobby, huh? You thought that little of me? I should be surprised by your lack of faith in me, but I'm not. Really I think if I could right now, I would be hurt, but I suppose a person had to still CARE to be hurt, you asshole! For your information, I haven't been with ANYONE since…well… ANYONE! Not that it's any of your BUSINESS!" I stalked towards him still keeping a steely eye on him through the sights of my gun. "In fact if I decided to fuck the entire Ranger's lineup, you wouldn't GET TO SAY ONE FUCKING WORD! You hear me, BATMAN? Not one word! You gave up that right seven months ago. I don't need you anymore, or hadn't you heard? I don't even think I want to see you anymore. Can't you just disappear like a wisp of smoke or fly off 'in the wind' as you are so fond of doing? Or better yet poof yourself into a bat and fly away! Don't let a little goodbye stand in your way, or anything. OPPS! I guess I forgot who I was talking to," with that squeezed off another round. He barely jumped out of the way in time screaming "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! SHE'S INSANE!"
You gotta love his original repertoire. Ricardo Carlos Manoso: the world's greatest orator. I laughed then, and decided to see if he knew the Mexican hat dance. Bang! BANG! I laughed again. For a Latin man he sure isn't very smooth in the rhythm department. This made me laugh even harder. Ranger started screaming: "SOMEONE BETTER TAKE THAT GUN FROM HER BEFORE I DO!"
"I'd love to see you try, RICARDO." Ranger went still at that. He had never asked me to call him by his first name in the two plus years I had known him. I guess I never rated that intimate or special a personal relationship on his list. Hell, all I was a piece of ass. An entertaining one, but a piece of ass none-the-less. Part of me deep, deep inside shattered completely then. I felt nice and cool now. The furnace-like fire from my earlier rage was completely annihilated at the very moment that certain something broke. Interesting. I'd like to test the limitations of this emotional blizzard; No blizzard wasn't the right word. That word implied that I would care enough to create a storm for this man. Nah, I'd say more of a white-out, the aftereffects of blizzard. THAT was me. I felt my smile tighten and my laughter die. I pulled the trigger again this time not aiming to miss, but the bastard Bat moved. He twitched like the flying vermin he was and managed to roll out of the way in time. Fuck. That would have been a nice flesh wound to the thigh too. I sighed. Well, shoot. There goes all my fun.
"Babe, calm down and give me the gun. YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING RIGHT NOW!"
"Oh contraire, Mon frere. I know for the FIRST time since meeting you what I am doing…and whom I'm doing it to. Oh and by the way, don't EVER call me THAT…" I grimaced "…NAME again. Or I might have to get serious about his shooting thing."
I backed up a pace and surveyed my hostages.
"Hmmm. One bullet left in here. Who gets it? Tick tock. Tick tock. Who's the lucky contestant?"
To be continued in chapter 17…