“What’s it look like? Getting my money’s worth. On your back, slave. Might as well strip out of those skimpy clothes right away, dollface.”
“Very funny. What’s the exit plan?”
I looked around, examining the dingy surroundings. Small, rectangular cage, no windows. Only a single dim yellow bulb glaring from above. Stale air, the smell of sex, cigars and sour flesh, name your pick, private parts working hard, no need for luxury.
“We’ll get you out of here. Didn’t much like the thought of Sharki using you like that for the rest of your days.”
“That’s a kind sentiment, Rusco. You promised you’d protect me. And look at me now, a painted whore.” She fluttered her kohl-painted eye-lashes, hands on hips. “Remember that kiss you gave me out in the market?”
“How could I forget? I’ve a soft spot for—”
“Okay, let’s cut the crap.”
“Sure, Deidra. No need to get sore. Follow my lead. Ruff up that hair of yours. Put this on so we can get by these yobos.” I tossed her my jacket. She draped it over her slender shoulders. “Cover up your neck.”
I rapped twice on the door, held up a finger of silence to her.
The doorman poked his head in. “That was fast, Alfie. More than what you could handle?”
“Naw, just a quick hand job all I needed—” Fast as a snake I chopped him hard in the throat. He was down in seconds. I hoofed him in the side for extra measure then grabbed his neck and pulled him into the pleasure room. Deidra came skipping out, grimacing at the fallen man. I rolled him deeper into the cubicle and drew the dead bolt across the door.
“That was fast,” she said.
“Let’s move.”
The thump and beat of the electro-dance music came louder to our ears as we crossed the dim-lit hall. I signaled Marty leaning aside the door to the loo. He fell in step behind us as we made our way to the exit. I made as if to escort Deidra out into the night air. The entrance-door bouncer regarded us with suspicion—two men and a dancer always were—and he held out his arm blocking me. “Slow down, pops. You can’t take the merchandise out with you. You pulling a fast one on me?” He pulled back Deidra’s jacket and exposed the blue slave tattoo on her neck. “How’d she get out anyway?”
I flashed him my mooniest look, raised a hand. “Look at the little brown fox.” My eyes drifted to somewhere behind him.
His head turned. Marty chopped the back of his neck when his eyes were averted. I clocked him in the side of the head for safety. Some wise-ass buddy of his came running toward us. I armed my mini-salvo, lobbed it. Buddy flew high up in the air, the concussion taking out half the wall beside him. Buddy ended up buried under a heaping pile of plaster and metal.
I stared down at him. “Tough break, chief.” We left in a hurry out into the rain-soaked street. Deidra trembled with gratitude to be out of her servitude. That little blast’d give the lap girls and pole dancers a night off and keep those degenerates busy…though we’d have many more enemies on our tail tonight.
Chapter 7
We legged it to the market, shouldering our way through the crowd and on past the dark alleys, the smut shops and dives. Shouts and bootfall echoed behind us. We weaved in and out, through the crowds, the squares. There we lost our straggling pursuers. Finally to reach the seedy docks off Lagoon Lake.
It was well past the witching hour when the thugs come out to play and I felt no guilt at our desperate acts. I was sure there were more debauched deeds in progress than our violent rescue tonight.
We slumped down at the base of a bronze monument—an exultant miner overlooking the water. We traded blank looks, laced with that ‘what now’ look. A distant lamppost cast a dim yellow glow our way.
A seaweedy smell drifted across the black water; a foghorn blew amidst the gathering fog, a mournful dirge-like sound, some barge likely making its way between the sister cities.
Deidra was handling herself very well, but I could see her control starting to crack at the seams. Her lower lip quivered; her eyes teared up in the glowering light.
“That shitbag Sharki owned my father for many years—before he finally killed him out on Farsi. Sharki took me to pay back my father’s debt. Dad didn’t deserve to die like that.”
I looked away. “Sorry, Deidra.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay, Rusco. I’m tough. It’s over and done.”
“How’d it happen?”
“Dad got mixed up in Sharki’s schemes, his lies.” She spat venom. “By the time he figured it out, it was too late, the damage was done. Father used to do runs from world to world, gathering data, speculator prospects, intelligence from the great beyond. A high end envoy, part-time spy and diplomat, dad was. I was young at the time. He taught me how to fly a starship, other tricks of the trade. Organized a posse of vigilantes to hunt down Sharki. It soured. He underestimated Sharki’s slyness, his trickery. Bullet-holed dad right in front of my face. When he died—” her lip quivered “—let’s just say I resolved to keep a fire of vengeance burning inside, for him, for me. When I was on that pole tonight climbing to oblivion in front of those fucking low-lifes, I was thinking of my promise to my dad. And now here I am.” She brushed away a tear and snorted her defiance.
“I feel your pain, Deidra.”
She sniffed. “Haven’t been able to escape that mad bastard Sharki ever since. Because of my flying skill, he made me captain of a ship, Goliath, and automatic accomplice to his foul schemes. My
