Frost was one of the best “Asset Retrieval Agents” in the business. Many would go as far as to say he was the best. Some folks still wanted to refer to his kind by the antiquated “bounty hunter” title. But that name was so ancient and carried such negative connotations. This was a new modern era, and he was a new breed. He was armed with powers that rivaled conventional lawmen, while at the same time unfettered by many of their restrictions. He was mobile, digital and wireless. Armed with an array of sophisticated weaponry, his men were better armed and better equipped than most cops. Upon taking a case, they could have boots on the ground within hours in most regions on Earth. And in space, where before it might take weeks or months, it only took days now.
Frost was a veteran manhunter. He’d spent ten years as an Enforcement Agent in the hated Authority’s Space Guard. His first job had been to enforce the contraband laws within the Essential Cargoes Act, taking down smuggling rings on Luna. That had been a cakewalk compared to his next assignment. He would spend five brutal years on the mean, domed streets of the rough and tumble Martian cities, where organized crime flourished and the “Dodge City” mentality of the Old West ruled. It was the perfect place for him to hone the skills he’d later use in the private sector as a gun for hire.
The hatch swung open and back against the bulkhead. The guard, Wilbur, stepped out onto the running board followed by a man dressed in the same black attire as Frost. Unshaven and unkempt, Wilbur looked as if he’d aged ten years in the last few hours. He was definitely wishing he were somewhere else. Frost smiled, but only in the mouth. His blue eyes were cold and emotionless, as if the man was soulless.
“I know it’s been a long morning, Mr. Perkins. Thank you for your patience.”
“I’d really like to clean up and go check on Toby.” These people made Wilbur nervous, with their black clothes, dark shades and sinister craft that looked like something out of a British spy movie.
“I received word earlier that he is doing very well.” Frost reassured him. “He’s being medevacked out this morning back to Baton Rouge. He’s expected to make a full recovery.”
“I feel truly awful about everything, Mr. Frost.” Wilbur’s tone had grown considerably humbler overnight. He knew he was in deep shit. Not only would he probably lose his job, but he sensed these were bad men. Manhunters, most likely cold-blooded killers.
“I really blew it.” he continued in as remorseful a tone as he could muster. He’d called his uncle before these mysterious men had arrived and took control of the situation. After he’d given him a thorough ass-chewing, the elder Perkins had told Wilbur to not only be cooperative, but also very humble and apologetic. He’d promised to call in whatever favors he could on his end. Still, he knew it would be an uphill battle to save his nephew’s sorry ass … and knowing his company … probably his own.
“Yes, you did, son,” Frost patted him reassuringly on the back before walking toward the bow of the craft. “But we all make mistakes.”
“So, can I go see Toby now?”
“Regrettably, son, that’s not going to be possible.” Frost turned his back to Wilbur, rubbing the neatly-trimmed and waxed beard at his jaw, the pointy goatee and handlebar mustache making him appear Luciferian to Wilbur.
“Why not? He’s my friend.”
“Unfortunately, I have been tasked with the unpleasant duty of informing you your services are no longer required at GenetX Corporation.” Frost turned back around. As he did, Wilbur saw the rail pistol coming up slowly.
“Oh, God!” he whimpered pitifully as he began to urinate down the front of his pants. “Please, no!”
“Wilbur Perkins,” Frost said calmly, as he raised the gun to eye level. “Your employment has hereby been … terminated!”
***
She sat on the bed and watched him dress, a sleepy smile of childish adoration on her face. She now sported an old NASA T-shirt she’d found in his bag. He sure liked the way those four initials stretched out across her chest. Once again, she made his clothes actually look good on somebody.
After their fervent session, they’d fallen back asleep, dead to the world, and he’d awoke sometime after lunch. By then, the day was pretty much shot and he was even further behind schedule. She’d been ready to go again, eager to take things to the next level. It’d taken every bit of willpower he had to resist her. She was not one to take no for an answer, especially when she had his willing erection in her talented hand.
He still had plenty of time to keep his date with Lulah. Lulah. Shit! For the first time, a feeling of sharp guilt stabbed at him. He hadn’t thought of her hardly at all since the fox-girl had suddenly entered his life. What did that say about him? More importantly, what did it say about this creature? What kind of sway could she hold over a man that he could so quickly overlook the only reason he was here? A wave of shame washed over him.
He fought it off. Why should I feel guilty? It was Lulah who went and married someone else, not me! Why should I feel bad about any of this?
Yet, like all other times, he always felt
