Young Offender, Part 60:
[September 19, 1978]
"Jet!" Francoise slapped his hand as it snaked around her waist towards the cake she was frosting.
"Ow! Come on, Frannie, it looks good," Jet pleaded, shaking the slap off his hand vigorously. "Anyway, you didn't put on enough candles! Forty-seven!"
"I know, I know! I think you're enjoying this more than Albert is going to."
"Oh yes!"
"You're incorrigible! Go see if Ivan is back."
"Naw, he's gone for a walk."
"Really? Where?" she asked, turning towards Jet as he flopped down on a kitchen chair.
"Don't know. You know Ivan," Jet mumbled and shrugged.
"I know," she said darkly. The last four years Ivan lead the other three cyborgs around the world, terrorizing the Merchants of Death and trying to keep tabs on the Black Ghost. There had been gains and losses, but they'd remained consistent in their enmity with the Black Ghost.
Ivan lead them to New York suddenly, to Jet's delight, five months ago, but had yet to give them any targets. He just remained silent except for saying constantly, "It's beyond my control," to anything asked of him.
In that five months, Francoise had joined a New York modern dance company. She introduced Albert to the producer of her upcoming production. The producer listened to Albert's original compositions he'd accumulated over the last four years. After which, he got Albert into a teaching position; it was something Albert never dreamed of happening again. Francoise and Albert were extremely happy; Jet couldn't claim the same.
He had to remain indoors or incognito. They found out when they landed in New York that Jet was still wanted by the police for questioning over his parents murder a decade ago. He wasn't accused of their murder, but it was still not something the cyborgs couldn't risk.
Jet cut his hair, slicked it back, and dyed it a light, strawberry blond in hopes that was enough to get people to over look him. He also avoided Frank and his old neighborhood all together. It was easy enough because they had a lot of money to rent an apartment in a more affluent part of New York.
"Come on, Jet, this will be fun. Albert has been in great spirits, and I know you have to be happy to be here. Maybe we'll cheer Ivan up?"
His irritation at her assumption on his happiness irritated him, but he kept quite because he now new the value of peace with her after seventeen years. He, of course, had let Albert know. All his lover could do was listen. But Albert promised he'd urge Ivan to leave by October. Jet shook off wistfulness and griped about Ivan with a snort. "Doubt it, but we'll try."
"So where do you think Ivan went?" she asked
Jet gave Francoise's question a serious thought. "Brighton Beach maybe? Somewhere with other Russians?"
Ivan wandered the streets of the Brighton Beach area, reveling in the Russian language around him. It caused pain and pleasure with each syllable he caught in his ear. It dragged him further away from the high rise apartment he shared with the other three cyborgs.
He had heard rumors of a Dutchman, Van Bogart, that was buying arms with gold from Africa. Ivan hadn't figured out if the man was a Merchant of Death yet. There was a good indication he was. The man usually did dealings in Brighton Beach, but he hadn't shown up in all the six months the cyborgs had lived in New York. Ivan wanted to wait the man out, worried someone so wealthy could make the Black Ghost flush with cash.
Another thing he wanted was for Albert, Francoise, and Jet to relax and enjoy themselves for while. He didn't want to worry them with what he knew. He knew he had worked them very hard over the last few years and they were getting tired. He hadn't slept in years since his cryogenics sleep was over, so he had to remind himself that his companions were more linked to the human condition than he was. At least for now they were, but he was starting to believe more and more as the years wore on they'd become more like him. He'd let them know when he needed them to take down Van Bogart, but until then, let them enjoy life.
"And I said to him it wasn't enough and he could take that stuff back to Africa for all I care. He threw in several more dollars," an old, craggy voice said in Russian. Ivan turned to see an old Russian sitting across a chessboard from another elderly man. He moved over to the park's fence, the men were too engrossed in their game and conversation to notice Ivan.
"What's he doing with all those guns?"
"Do I care? No. I just want... Hey!" The first man jerked his head towards Ivan. He said in English, "Scram kid!"
Ivan replied in Russian, "Your queen is in danger."
"What?" the man muttered in Russian and looked at the chessboard. "And so it is!" The man moved his bishop to block the threat. He asked Ivan, "You're Russian?"
"Yes," Ivan answered softly.
"I haven't seen you around. Who do you belong to? You're parents?"
"I have no parents. I'm new to the area. If you move your knight you'll loose your rook," Ivan warned. The man's hand paused and moved away from the knight.
"Stop ruining the game!" the second man, griped. "Anyway, I have to go, Dimitry. Maybe you should take a few lessons from the kid." With that he got up and left the unfinished game.
The man waved Ivan over to the now abandoned seat. Ivan gladly sat down, figuring this man could be a key to finding out about the mysterious Dutchman. Ivan advanced the left rook and waited for his opponent's move.
"Hey! Where have you been? I told you I wanted you to help with Al's party, too," Jet asked Ivan when he came jogging through the front door of the apartment. Francoise was setting the table with Albert's birthday cake while Jet was throwing black streamers around. Ivan yanked off his coat and tossed it on the sofa.
"I found our new target," he announced blandly.
"You've been hustling chess again in Brighton Beach, haven't you?" Jet guess, giving Ivan a scowl.
"Yes, and this time it payed off in more than cash." Ivan did yank a thick wad of cash out of his pocket in spite of what he said. "There is Dutch man by the name of Van Bogart buying guns with large sums of gold."
"He's a Merchant?" Jet asked.
"I think so. It's the type of thing they do." Ivan waved his hand in the air dismissively. "Anyway, he's coming in tonight. We have to make plans."
"Aw nuts! I was looking forward to teasing Al."
"Jet, he expects this from you every year," Francoise said, wiping her hands on her apron before taking it off. "I'll call Albert and see if he can leave the rehearsal early."
Albert peered from the dark alleyway. He waved Francoise forward. She joined him and pointed to the navy sedan. She confirmed, "He's alone. Just one man."
"Good. This should be easy," Jet said, looking over Albert's shoulder. "We'll be home before the ice cream melts."
"Don't get cocky," Albert warned. "We don't have a lot of information about this guy."
"He's leaving the car with a suitcase," Francoise said. Albert looked over to see the tall, powerfully built Dutchman glance around the street before entering an abandoned building.
"Let's go," Jet snarled impatiently. Albert nodded and led the other three cyborgs across the street. Francoise halted in front of the building.
"Two other men inside besides Bogart. They're talking Russian," she said.
Ivan's right eye glowed a bright blue. "It's old man Dimitry. He's haggling over the amount of gold. He just asked Bogart if he intends on starting a war. Bogart says he is. Quick, hide. Old man Dimitry is coming."
The four of them ducked into the alleyway and waited for the elderly Russian man to leave the building with Bogart's suitcase. Jet didn't wait for Albert's order to storm through the front door. Albert cursed inside his head and rushed after Jet. Francoise and Ivan were on his heels.
Albert's blood ran cold when they got into the lobby of the run down building. Jet's neck was in the firm grasp of Bogart. The Dutchman lofted a baton and was about to strike Jet in the head again. Albert quickly drew his ray gun, but Bogart dragged Jet to his feet and stood behind him.
"Drop it! This baton has more than enough electricity to take down an elephant," Bogart ordered in English. Albert was stunned at this situation, he figured all these years of success had made Jet a little too lax. He laid his ray gun down and raised his hands.
"Damn it, I'm sorry, Al," Jet said, swiping at his bloody nose. "But there's something..."
"Later," Albert snarled, more concerned over getting Jet away than then wood crate full of rifles.
"No, listen! Lizard!" Jet shouted. Pointing upwards. Albert looked up and was shocked to see a lizard the size of a man. It peered down at him as it shifted his weight on the swing chandelier.
"What the...?" Now it was clear why Jet got distracted. Before Albert could lift his hand to lizard it pounced in front of him and stood on its hind legs. It was so swift, it grabbed Albert by the wrist and flung him into a wall.
He heard Francoise scream and shook off his dizziness. He watched Ivan telekinetically pick up the lizard and toss it across the room. It feel unconscious.
"Enough!" Bogart held up the baton to Jet's temple. Jet thrashed and fell forward to the ground. Blind rage hit Albert he rushed Bogart, heedless of the baton, and punched the man in the jaw. Bogart staggered backwards, but swung at Albert again. Albert took the hit on his left shoulder, but kept after the man. His fury made him unstoppable.
Bogart, bloodied and bruised, leaped back from Albert. The Dutchman looked bewildered at Albert's strength and rage. "You'll pay for this."
With that, Bogart went over to the lizard and gave it a light kick. It came to and followed Bogart out the front door. The imminent danger was gone, so Albert's rage quickly drained away. He scrambled over to Jet and turned him over. He panicked when Jet was non responsive. He picked up Jet and stood. His eyes met with Francoise's. She wore a disquieted expression. There was something in her eyes that didn't bode well.
"Ivan, take care of the guns," Albert ordered, walking out of the abandoned building. Francoise followed quietly behind him.
Albert paced half the night at the foot of Jet's bed while Francoise nursed his injuries. He finally started stirring around two in the morning. Francoise walked towards the door of the bedroom he shared with Jet. She halted and looked around the room. Albert watched her bite her bottom lip as her face flushed. He started to have a bad feeling. He wished Ivan was around, but the Russian cyborg had yet to make an appearance.
"Francoise, I..." Before Albert could finish, she bolted from the room. He heard her bedroom door slam. He sat on the side of Jet's bed and watched him while he waited on Ivan. He got concerned when the dawn came and Ivan was still absent.
Jet let out a yawn and sat up, eyes still bury. "Wow... I had a dream about a huge ass lizard making mince meat out of you."
"Not quite. How are you feeling?"
"I've been better. Some coffee?"
Albert noticed the heavenly aroma and some soft noises coming from the kitchen. Dread was still heavy in his stomach as he helped Jet out of bed. They walked into the kitchen and sat at the table. Albert noticed Francoise pouring three cups of coffee after pushing up the sleeve of her fluffy pink robe. She turned with the mugs and sat at the table across from them.
They mumbled their thanks, but Albert noticed her aqua eyes were frosty. She held her steaming mug up to her lips and asked, "So when where you two going to tell me?"
"Tell you what?" Jet asked, snappish from his injuries. It hit Albert like a bolt from the blue what she was about to ask. He lowered his eyes to avoid her gaze. Jet was still uncomprehending. "Come on, sister, I'm in no mood. What's got your panties in a twist this time?"
"I'm talking about you and Albert," she replied, a little too tart and calm for Albert's liking.
There was thick silence for several minutes. Now Jet was understanding... now. She finally was the one to continue. "I'm not stupid. I've known something strange was going on between you two and I couldn't figure it out for a while. It finally clicked last night."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jet sputtered. Albert shook his head.
"Why pretend anymore? Especially with her or Ivan," Albert said, before sipping his coffee. "We knew this would have to come out in the open one day."
"Albert," Jet snarled. He glanced over to Jet, who's face was turning fuchsia. "Fine. Yeah... you're right, Frannie. But I'm not some sort of..."
"Would you stop running off at the mouth for once," Albert said, cutting Jet off in annoyance. He turned back to Francoise, her eyes were still cool. "Yes, your assumption is accurate, but we figured it wouldn't be prudent to talk about such personal things."
Francoise's head snapped back as if Albert had slapped her. "So how long have you been making a fool of me? I know you stopped wearing that necklace with Hilda's wedding band three years ago."
Albert grew baffled over her anger. "Since Ivan has been awake."
"So four years you two have been lying to me! How could you?"
"Why are you getting so bent out of shape? Do you have some sort of thing for one us or something?" Jet asked, getting equally upset with Francoise.
"I'm so offended by that! You know better than that after all these years!"
"Then what is? Why are you so hurt?" Albert asked, keeping calm.
"Because." She stood from the table and got herself more coffee. She didn't turn to face them. Francoise put her delicate hands on the counter; her shoulders slumped. "Because I thought you trusted me enough to talk about something like that. Instead, you both thought so little of my friendship that you didn't share what was going on." She turned to face them. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. "Did you think I would be horrified or disgusted? Didn't you think I could be happy for you both after all the pain we've suffered?"
Albert felt shame creeping in. He had a feeling that keeping silent about this at Jet's request would lead to something like this. "I'm sorry, Francoise." It was all he could say and hope he knew how much he ment it.
"I feel hurt at the mistrust you've shown me. I thought, after everything we been through over the last seventeen years, my trustworthiness would mean something."
"Aw, Frannie, don't be sore with Albert. I put him up to keeping quiet. It was all me, so don't be sore at him."
"Why?" she asked, sitting back at the table. Her eyes weren't frosty any longer, just pleading. Her cheeks were now very shinny from tears, though.
Jet looked down at his hands and gave a shrug. "Where do I come from? Think about it. That's one sure way to get an ass beating. A bad one. You know, if people though you like other guys. I just... well... trust isn't something easy for me. I'm really sorry, Francoise. I should have trusted you, but I was afraid of what you'd think of me. I' was afraid you'd think I wouldn't watch after you any more. Or you'd think I was..."
"It doesn't matter to me about that!" she snapped. My opinion of you as my friend hasn't changed because you're with Albert. But my opinion will change if you lie to me. Do you understand?"
Jet gulped loud enough for Albert to hear when Francoise stood up, came around the table, and gave Jet a quick peck on the cheek. "Hey now, you'll make Al jealous." Jet's attempt at humor was his effort to switch away from an emotionally messy topic.
Albert smirked, feeling a lot lighter and more relaxed. He decided to take Jet's lead now that Francoise seemed more buoyant and in a forgiving mood. "Oh you know that isn't the Arnoul you wanted a kiss from."
"Albert Heinrich! Don't you dare!" Jet screamed, pounding his fist on the table. Francoise looked baffled and amused, so Jet decided to push his luck. "How about birthday cake for breakfast?"
"I think you're too sly for your own good. Oh... I hear Ivan coming down the street."
"Good. I was about to go looking," Albert said. Minutes later, Ivan trotted into the kitchen with a smile on his face and Bogart's suitcase.
"I got in touch with Gilmore about that giant monster. They're going to do some checking on Van Bogart."
"Good," Albert said.
"How did you get that?" Jet asked.
"I stole it from old man Dimitry. He'll think Bogart did it and that'll keep him in plenty trouble. I figure we could go to Montana while we wait to hear back from Gilmore."
"Montana? Why?" Albert asked.
"Because my aunt almost moved there. I just want to see it for myself."
"Great. That's sounds good to me," Albert said.
Ivan joined them at the table and Francoise got him a mug of coffee. Ivan sat upright, his eye turned bright blue. "Normally, I don't pry into your minds, but the emotions were so thick. I see you dragged their secret from them?"
"You knew too?" Francoise seemed surprised and then slightly annoyed. "You men!"
"Ah, Frannie, you know you love us!" Jet said. To which he got a dish towel thrown at his head.
To be continued.