Chapter 7 :
This is more Fun than I thought.
Crash was dim, noisy and smoky, which only made it all the more likable as far as Alec was concerned. In addition to these 'outstanding' features it was run-down and frequented by the kind of customers who displayed an obvious dislike for 'questions' in general. All of which suited Alec just fine.
The 'colorful' reputations of the sleazy regulars provided enough concealment for him to hide in plain sight…and also supplied him with the right contacts for the kind of work that required somebody with his special talents and skills. The perfect symbiotic relationship – a kind of 'you scratch my back, and I'll scratch out yours' just not in the literal sense...
Alec bent over his drink at the bar counter – quietly and discreetly inspecting the room. He'd already checked the closest entry and exist points to the room, planned primary and secondary escape routes in the event of any trouble, and scanned each of the current room occupants for a threat and risk assessment…and he'd only been there long enough to order one drink.
You can take the soldier out of Manticore…but you can't take Manticore out of the soldier…he thought. Satisfied that there was no current threat, he allowed himself to relax a little and enjoy his drink.
Alec swirled the amber liquid in the glass, watching the dim light refract in the fluid, casting different patterns of light across its surface.
His trance was broken by the noise of a nasty but short-lived fight at one of the nearby pool tables. He quietly studied the situation, which apparently was a pool game gone 'wrong'. Three rough and extremely large bikers had been playing against another set of nasty characters, and the stakes of the game had gone considerably high, with a large pot of money sitting on the corner of the table.
With a practiced eye he could understand 'why' they might be less than pleased with the outcome of the game. It had been a clear 'set-up' – their slimy counterparts were obvious 'pool sharks'.
"You cheated you dipshit.. Me and my friends aint no fools to try to play us like that, get where I am going?" one of the huge bikers said.
"You snooze, you lose. You play, you pay. Now me and my buddy will take the money and we'll leave and nobody will bother us." a scruffy looking man said as his 'buddy' stood behind him, supporting him. The sound of gun being cocked drew the attention of the bikers. Since the men before them neither had a gun, they had to have a third party with them; concealed by the crowd which meant that one of them will be hit if they tried anything. With an angry huff the bikers threw their pool cues onto the table and turned, pushing their way back out through the crowd.
At the other side of the bar, Vada was bored out of her mind, since Biggs had told her to beat him to this bar called 'Crash'. She shifted in her seat to try to ease the burning feeling in her side, the bullet she took this afternoon didn't penetrate, rather nicked her side and left a burning mark on her side.
That was the second time this week that I get shot, it's becoming a routine, she thought.
She surveyed the dim bar once again, and from where she was sitting she had a complete view of the entire floor. Since she set foot in here, she took notice of all the entry points and exits and now she had two plans of escape if things went sideways, which these days had a tendency to go anyway.
She smiled as she saw the three bikers, who had lost the pool game earlier pass her table in the back, huffing and sulking like little boys.
"So…no other takers I'm guessing?" a voice caught her attention, and Vada smiled, a giddy feeling forming in her at the thought of having fun and earning more cash.
At the pool table:
He extended his hand to collect their winnings from the end of the table.
A smooth voice carried across the noise of the bar halting the progress of his hand above the rather large pile of money.
"I'll play you…"
The owner of the voice rose from her discrete position at a small table well concealed in the darkness, behind some booths, and by the press of bodies standing just in front. She moved with a agile grace towards the pool table into the light.
Alec felt a chill pass through his body. Either he was getting careless (and he doubted that) or she was just very good at being subtle, because he couldn't recall seeing her when he had conducted his initial surveillance…and she was not the kind of woman that anyone forgot easily.
The beauty of her face was startling, like some godly being had reached down and cast life into this woman. Her face was heart-shaped, her skin pale contrasting starkly with the darkness of her dark jaw length hair. A wide mouth, with large full lips beneath high cheekbones, and the most amazing dark gray eyes.
Her black leather pants seemed to suggest she'd been sewn into them, which judging from their snug fit probably wasn't far from the truth. Her blood red shirt stretched across her chest, emphasizing her full breasts; stopping below her bellybutton, teasing anyone with the small expanse of skin where her shirt didn't meet her pants.
These features alone would have left any man with even half a pulse drooling and panting, but this wasn't what drew his attention. As she stalked gracefully across to the other men, he felt an uncanny resonance pass through him. He could feel the hairs rise on the back of his neck in a hypersensitive response.
Alec couldn't take his eyes from her, and he felt an unmistakable feeling that he knew her, but he couldn't quite place it. There was a strange familiarity in the way she moved.
She carried herself with an elegant assuredness - every action, each simple step, displaying a deliberate movement. It was pure Manticore - and at the same time it was more than that.
Back in the facility Manticore technique had changed over the years, and he now recognized that the way this woman moved hinted at a much earlier era. That's when it hit him - it was the same physical signature that the 09-ers had learnt all those years ago as children.
There was only one explanation for why this woman moved the way she did…and it stemmed from a single night many years before. A night when a small group of children, had fled across a frozen landscape after breaching one of the toughest military installations in the country, to then scatter into the night. His dead twin had been one of those kids…and judging by the way she carried herself, so had this woman.
But he thought back to her posture, the way she held herself, `09 as well as the same movement he, himself had learned after the escape of Unit 2. She had to be one of Max's sisters, and since there were only two captures of female escapee in all of Manticore`s facilities beside Max herself. This had to be the famous 546 everyone raved about.
Alec placed his glass on the wooden bar top and settled back into the stool he was on.
Now this could get interesting…