security. Since our safe house might be compromised, I'd point out that I had no choice but to make a preemptive strike against possible pursuers, using those measures you possessed to our advantage. You'd then have to explain and demonstrate your abilities to my employers. There would be tests. Examinations. A delay, I'm sure, in delivering your money and final living arrangements. If they found something that interested them, the delay might be lengthy. In the end, if none of these explanations proved satisfactory, I'd point out that I'm an assassin. I kill people, for pleasure and for money. Whether or not you survive, my employers received the services specified in my original contract with them. I killed for them.
"That is, if I gave a big enough of a fuck to explain myself to anyone."
Mani's gaze took in the street, the walls around them, the tractor-trailer rumbling past on the avenue. "I see. And what happens when you start shooting and blowing things up? My abilities don't work against bullets, or shrapnel."
"Jump into the trunk, close it." He led her by the arm to the back of the Lincoln. Lee backed away, dropped a bag with rope, a machete handle, and a gun muzzle sticking out, and trotted out into the street and both curbs, laying out a pattern of a dozen mines, letting their weight pin the loose cardboard and paper trash he used to cover them. Max took a bag of smoke and flash grenades, the .45 and shotgun Lee had left behind, an Uzi, two short tripod- and swivel-mounted guns with radio antennae, a bag of extra clips, and the bag of surveillance equipment. As an after-thought, he took out the tire iron and jammed it into the ammo bag. He locked down the weapon lockers so the trunk appeared normal once more, and showed Mani the trunk light switch, radio beacon, and cell phone compartment, and the inside hood lock.
"What if I want to shoot back?" she asked.
"You wouldn't want to do that," Max said. "I don't think you're used to combat shooting, and the plating this car does have won't stop armor-piercing rounds."
Lee returned, slipped on a climbing harness over his jeans and jacket, and put on a communication headset. As Max took out a set from the surveillance bag, Lee adjusted dials until they were able to hear each other over the earpiece. Lee picked up the bag and headed for the fire escape. "Don't do anything I'd do," he said with a mocking wave as he left them.
Max pushed down the headset mike away from his mouth, took the two swivel-mounted guns, and motioned for Mani to follow him. "How did you do that trick?"
Mani pointed to her head, then to his, and back to hers. She laughed at his nod. "Why do you want to know? Do you think you can learn it?"
"If you can get inside me, maybe someone else can." Max set up one of the guns between garbage bins, bracing it against metal walls.
"Rithisak taught me how, but you don't need to worry about his skill, unless you're easily seduced by men."
Her leg was warm against his back as he secured the clip and cleared the antenna on the gun. He stood, rubbing against her thigh, hip, breast. She grinned and leaned into him. The Beast wanted to use the muzzle of the other gun as a cock, and for a moment Max's hand shook with the desire to add his own cock to the Beast's cruel punishment. He pushed her away, crossed the street, quickly dropped the gun by a drainpipe, wedging one of the tripod legs between the pipe and the wall.
A car passed. Max started. He was sweating from the exertion of controlling himself. A cold, hard ball of nausea was working its way from stomach to throat. He headed back to the car, where the rest of his gear and Mani waited. He stopped by his equipment, wondered why he didn't go ahead, end it, fuck her, kill her, fuck her again, throw her in the trunk and drive back to Tuckahoe, with Lee in the trunk if he tried to stop her, and the men on the other end of the encrypted phone line, if they objected.
She waited, leaning back on the lip of
"That is, if I gave a big enough of a fuck to explain myself to anyone."
Mani's gaze took in the street, the walls around them, the tractor-trailer rumbling past on the avenue. "I see. And what happens when you start shooting and blowing things up? My abilities don't work against bullets, or shrapnel."
"Jump into the trunk, close it." He led her by the arm to the back of the Lincoln. Lee backed away, dropped a bag with rope, a machete handle, and a gun muzzle sticking out, and trotted out into the street and both curbs, laying out a pattern of a dozen mines, letting their weight pin the loose cardboard and paper trash he used to cover them. Max took a bag of smoke and flash grenades, the .45 and shotgun Lee had left behind, an Uzi, two short tripod- and swivel-mounted guns with radio antennae, a bag of extra clips, and the bag of surveillance equipment. As an after-thought, he took out the tire iron and jammed it into the ammo bag. He locked down the weapon lockers so the trunk appeared normal once more, and showed Mani the trunk light switch, radio beacon, and cell phone compartment, and the inside hood lock.
"What if I want to shoot back?" she asked.
"You wouldn't want to do that," Max said. "I don't think you're used to combat shooting, and the plating this car does have won't stop armor-piercing rounds."
Lee returned, slipped on a climbing harness over his jeans and jacket, and put on a communication headset. As Max took out a set from the surveillance bag, Lee adjusted dials until they were able to hear each other over the earpiece. Lee picked up the bag and headed for the fire escape. "Don't do anything I'd do," he said with a mocking wave as he left them.
Max pushed down the headset mike away from his mouth, took the two swivel-mounted guns, and motioned for Mani to follow him. "How did you do that trick?"
Mani pointed to her head, then to his, and back to hers. She laughed at his nod. "Why do you want to know? Do you think you can learn it?"
"If you can get inside me, maybe someone else can." Max set up one of the guns between garbage bins, bracing it against metal walls.
"Rithisak taught me how, but you don't need to worry about his skill, unless you're easily seduced by men."
Her leg was warm against his back as he secured the clip and cleared the antenna on the gun. He stood, rubbing against her thigh, hip, breast. She grinned and leaned into him. The Beast wanted to use the muzzle of the other gun as a cock, and for a moment Max's hand shook with the desire to add his own cock to the Beast's cruel punishment. He pushed her away, crossed the street, quickly dropped the gun by a drainpipe, wedging one of the tripod legs between the pipe and the wall.
A car passed. Max started. He was sweating from the exertion of controlling himself. A cold, hard ball of nausea was working its way from stomach to throat. He headed back to the car, where the rest of his gear and Mani waited. He stopped by his equipment, wondered why he didn't go ahead, end it, fuck her, kill her, fuck her again, throw her in the trunk and drive back to Tuckahoe, with Lee in the trunk if he tried to stop her, and the men on the other end of the encrypted phone line, if they objected.
She waited, leaning back on the lip of
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