“Hey, Katya,” Killjoy said casually, walking out of the light. He was scratching under his armor and if he was perturbed at the sight of a woman standing on the back of a man’s neck with her high heel shoved all the way through to his esophagus it didn’t show. “Whatchadoin?”
“Your job, motherfucker,” Cottontail replied, finally pulling her stiletto out of the man’s neck. Even over the rotor-wash, there was an audible “pop.” “About time you showed up. Reinforcements my ass.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Mike tossed the last bag of ill-gotten gains into the helicopter and waved Oleg and Juris by. He wrinkled his brow at the two obvious hookers helping the big team leader, but decided not to mention it.
“You gonna make it, big guy?” Mike asked the team leader, who was just about shot to shit but still limping along with the help of the sniper and the two girls, one of whom was carrying an AK.
“I will be at my wedding, Kildar,” Oleg said, grinning. “And you had better be, too. And so will Catrina and Elena!”
“Glad to meet you,” Mike said, making the connection.
“And you, Kildar,” the one with the AK said, dropping a curtsey that slipped her dress up far enough to show pubic hair and then helping the team leader up the ramp.
“I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” Mike muttered as Adams ran up. “Well?”
“All accounted for,” Adams said, not even pausing as he continued up the ramp of the Hip, which was hovering just off the roof of the club. “Hail and not hail. And, as you noticed, two recovered Keldara girls.”
“Let’s go, then,” Mike said, stepping up onto the ramp. “Pilot, shag ass.”
As the ramp started to close, he flipped up the safety switch of the activator and pressed the red plunger. The detonation was surprisingly muted. They couldn’t blow the whole building, there were girls still on the upper floors, but the basement offices were well and truly trashed. As he looked around for a seat, though, he noticed a surprising number of unfamiliar female faces on the helicopter. Maybe they could have blown the whole building.
“Adams, we appear to have some stowaways,” Mike said, sitting down on the floor since there weren’t any spare seats.
“The basement rooms were being used as torture chambers for new girls or girls who had somehow really pissed the boss off,” Adams replied, shrugging in unconcern. “And, of course, the troops had to run a gauntlet of girls as they headed for the roof. I guess a few somehow stuck to them. What did you expect?”
“Nothing less,” Mike admitted, looking over at one of the girls who gave him a tremulous smile of hope. “Nothing less. They’re the Mountain Tigers.”
Epilogue
“Senator,” Traskel’s executive assistant said, looking through the door. “There’s a Mr. Jenkins here to see you. He’s…”
“Quite insistent,” Mike said, shoving the door open and then shutting it in the secretary’s face. “Hi, John.”
“I thought you’d have the good sense to not meet me here,” the senator said, picking up the phone.
“Oh, I think we can dispense with those games, Senator,” Mike said, walking over to the desk and slamming the phone, and the senator’s hand, down on the desk so hard they both broke.
“Jesus!” the senator roared, pulling his hand back furiously. “I’ll have you arrested for that…”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Mike said, sitting down and tossing a packet on the desk. “You see, I found Natalya. And the bastard you sent to kill her. Who was stupid enough to talk about it. All of it, Senator. Top sheet is a partial transcript.”
The senator leaned forward and gingerly opened the manila envelope with his unbroken hand, then started to read the transcription.
“There’s no proof there,” he said, hoarsely.
“There’s enough to matter,” Mike said. “The news media would be all over it like stink on shit, even if you are their fair-haired boy. Wilson Three-Names was a former aide. He’s been definitely identified by a first-hand source as the man who both murdered a girl in Macedonia and attempted to frame Senator Grantham for it. And despite the voice changer, you can get a partial match. Between that and the confidential notes when you covered for him after that incident in Nigeria, which are easy enough to leak, you’re toast. Don’t even begin to try to fight this or you’ll be facing charges as well as being out of government service.”
“What do you want?” the senator whispered.
“You’re leaving government service,” Mike said. “Old war wound will do. You don’t play around behind the scenes, either. No fundraising, no support for candidates, no quiet little deals, no lobbying. You are out. O-U-T. Out. Go teach or something, you’re perfect for academia. And you don’t have to work for your salary. Your wife will support you. But one glimmer of a hint that you’re back in the power broker business and that entire file gets forwarded to every single news outlet on the planet.”
“Fuck you,” the senator snapped. “There’s no way…”
“The Senate leadership have already seen that file,” Mike said, grinning. “If you don’t go, you’re going to be removed from office. And then it will be all over the news. I’d imagine the President’s party would even be able to pick up your seat after that debacle. Hell, I doubt that your party would be able to keep New Jersey. As it is, your party can appoint an interim and he’ll probably be reelected.”
“What are they going to do about Wilson?” the senator asked, deflating. “He’ll talk. He’s too much of a coward not to.”
“He’s already dealt with,” Mike said, standing up. “He had a little accident in the Balkans. Bandits and such, you know how troubled it is over there. And if you try to fuck with me or mine, Senator, overtly or covertly, you’ll be dealt with the same way. Oh, and you owe me five mil,” he added. “The number for the bank account is in the file. Don’t be slow on the payments. You don’t want to deal with my collections department.”
“What was the take from the whorehouse?” Pierson asked.
He and Mike had agreed to meet in a Georgetown bar after Mike’s meeting with Senator Traskel. Mike had known he was going to need at least one drink afterwards. Although, the meeting with the Senate leadership had been more of a ballbuster all things considered.
“Damn near six mil,” Mike said, shaking his head. “It turned out that the club was the central clearing house for most of the Balkans for that clan. Who ever knew that hookers could generate so much cash?”
“Not just hookers,” Pierson said. “The gang was deep in the heroin business, apparently. Interpol sent us a very carefully worded but hearty thank you.”
“Nice to know we’re appreciated,” Mike said, shaking his head. “And I kinda figured that when we found over six hundred pounds of the damned stuff in the safe. Which was why most of the Semtek and incendiaries were on top of it.”
“Where are you going to start?” Pierson asked, changing the subject.
“Japan, I think,” Mike replied. “They’ve got the most files after the U.S. You know I’m going to be the one most hated son of a bitch on earth after this. Shoot the messenger doesn’t even begin to cover it. The U.S. Senate would love to bury me under the Capitol. Both parties. The leadership meeting was a real show of bipartisanship.”