Ebb Tide Ch. 04a

"Are you two joking?" Sara wondered.

"I'll let you figure that out," I responded. Ebro chortled yet again.

"I was hoping for a little chatting and something to drink," Sara hedged. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind she was realizing she had broken the law, she'd been dealing with some bad people, and now she was driving to my house, ... driving 'out' of Las Vegas.

"Remember, you wanted to see my place," I patted her hand. I didn't need her wigging out here at the last second.

"I ... yeah, you are right," she admitted.

"Besides, I have two roommates," I consoled her.

"Oh yeah ... woo ... I won't be alone with you," she babbled then blushed.

"If you have to be alone with a man, you could do worse," Ebro pointed out.

"I'm unemployed, I have trouble with authority and I've been in two shoot-outs in the past week," I countered. "I'm hardly GQ material."

"But you are real," Ebro teased me.

"Yes," Sara leaned into me. "You are."

I had several difficulties ahead of me. Sara was a talker and prone to open her mouth before thinking things through. I needed to keep things quiet until Sara had a chance to calm down and let her scientific/engineering mind return to the fore.

Engineers (specifically my favorite engineers ~ combat engineers) are great people. They can be sour, jokers, happy, or sad. The big thing about them is they tend to be thoughtful and introspective. If they aren't, they could end up pleasuring themselves with less than five fingers. Or, they could build a bridge that collapses, killing people; set up a camp, only to have it wash away; or have their vehicle conk out when their lives are on the line. They take a few extra seconds before they act whenever the opportunity presents itself. All Sara needed was to realize she had those few extra seconds with me.

I kissed her. I kissed her on the lips, our mouths tightly closed.

"You can spend the night if you like," I suggested. Her eyes grew wide and she gulped.

"Oh ... okay," she nodded. She was living out her 'Vegas Experience': the rescued damsel, the white hat criminal and now the torrid affair.

I grew up in Vegas and heard all the stories about what tourists think Vegas should be like and what they can suddenly get away with. She was rich enough to not need to 'break the bank at the Mirage'. Snookering a 'whale' (big spender) in a sinister game of baccarat would do nicely for her. She wanted to come out of this weekend feeling like a winner.

We were falling into an uncomfortable habit of helping one another. I was a loner who was never alone. The next kiss had a touch of tongue on my part. She was coltish - eager and uncertain. The third kiss was a full-blown French invasion of the Subcontinent.

"Wow," she grinned. "You are a great kisser." A moment later she recognized her statement as a token of her inexperience as much a praise of mine.

"He was an NCO," Ebro play-mocked me. "They are great at kissing ass ... and face."

"Don't insult Vance," Sara sighed. "He's wonderful."

This was going to be tougher than I thought. I hadn't wanted a live-in mate. I didn't desire having two live-in girlfriends. If I developed a fan girl, I was moving back into Hell. I knew I could get back my old job killing shit.

{Epilogue One}

The mid-afternoon Las Vegas Sun managed to eke streaks of luminosity through the venetian blinds. Gris was avoiding the warmth of that light. The two members of his legal team - one from his New York offices and the other, a licensed practitioner in the State of Nevada - sat, waiting for the Las Vegas ADA to arrive and give them the news that was too important to relay by phone, e-mail, or personal courier.

The two women and one man who entered the room were not who he was expecting. He gazed at them briefly, rated their influence, then looked away. The Nevada attorney was weighing her words while his mouthpiece talked.

"Excuse me, this is a private meeting between Mr. Gris and ADA Mitchell," he loftily informed the 'locals'.

"Yes, you are correct that this is a private meeting," the lead woman nodded. She was English, in her early fifties and someone used to wielding real power. "I'm Sandra Cho. My companions are Margo Inara, of the Nevada Women's Legal Defense Fund and ... the man's identity is not relevant."

"What are you doing here? Mr. Gris' time is valuable," his lawyer bristled.

"Hush, Mr. Kowalski, while you are perfectly safe in this building, the route of any egress from this city is fraught with peril," the woman purred.

"Are you threatening us?" Kowalski uttered derisively as he stood up.

"Take a second look at your client and weigh my words accordingly," she replied with a cruel twist to her lips.

"You are responsible for that unwarranted attack on me?" Gris asked in a cold, remote manner that Sandra noted was belied by the hate-filled depths of his eyes.

"Oh no," she laughed. "Someone got to you before I could. From what I've heard, and now see, I can't fault them on their workmanship. So I suppose I don't begrudge their impertinence. Those people, I forgive. You, on the other hand, I do not."

"Back to the threats," the female attorney from Las Vegas chided Cho's legal counsel. "Margo, I would have thought better of you."

"This is the first time I have ever met Ms. Cho, Alesia," Margo Inara countered. "I'm here to represent my six clients, if any civil and/or criminal actions are pursued from this point forward."

"Who would that be?" Kowalski sneered. "Six hookers with multiple counts of prostitution hardly make credible witnesses against a man who donates a serious portion of his wealth to charities every year. I will forward my request for your work product to date so that I may contact those six women as pertains to my client's and his guests' assault. Thank you for the assistance."

"Do you want the testimony of the four men your client's guests hospitalized earlier last night? The fifth is still in a coma," she reposed. "Or, would you prefer the copy of the video of the actual crime perpetrated against your client last night. I have seen it ... the whole nasty thirty-seven minutes ordeal, with some edits before it came into my possession."

"Thank you for the warning. I'll prepare a court order to squash that bit of evidence," Alesia countered.

"By all means," Margo chuckled. "I have to admit, I was getting ready to rip Ms. Cho a new asshole the moment I stepped out of this room, but I'm now rethinking my stance on that. I said copy and have seen for a reason."

"One of Ms. Cho's groundskeeper found this in the mail box this morning along with a note, - she also provided me with a copy of that. It spells out the motivation behind last night's incident. Those four men's - we will call them what they are ~ 'pimps' - those four pimps' affidavits confirm that motive. Ms. Cho reviewed the DVD, then contacted me with her concerns that those six women would be unrepresented."

"Margo, since when do you represent panderers?" Alesia shot back. "Normally you are trying to put them behind bars and out of business."

"I'm not representing them. I despise them. Seeing them all broken and bandaged up did my heart good. Watching one of Mr. Gris' female employees being tortured for five minutes was rather grueling."

"The validity of her testimony only made it worse, as I abhor torture and believe it is never justified. Watching the rest of your staff getting the shit ..."

"We'll want that DVD handed over immediately," Kowalski interrupted.

"Sorry," Sandra Cho sighed. "It has been stolen. I left it out, my daughter mistook it for another DVD, took it out with her to lunch and it was stolen out of her car."

"I have her written statement testifying to this mishap," Margo informed them. "She's an outstanding citizen, had constant access to her mother's study and had borrowed things from her mother numerous times before."

"And you imagine that if you go forward with this farce it will magically appear again?" Kowalski sneered. "How convenient."

"You said it; I didn't," Margo taunted. "When no charges are filed against your client ~ it would be a matter of public record ~ I am counting on it to show up again, both at my offices and on the internet."

"Conniving with violent criminals is even less like you," Alesia said.

"Sadly, allowing rich clients to beat the system is very much like you," Margo shot back.

"I am not a lawyer and, like Mr. Gris, my time is valuable, so I'll let know how I view the situation," Sandra stated.

"I theorized that Mr. Gris is going to drop the charges, get on his plane and exit this state, never to return - neither him, nor his minions. If he does that, the matter will fall into a deep slumber, hopefully never to reawaken."

"That's not going to happen, Ms. Cho," Kowalski condescended. "Though I am going to make sure we investigate you thoroughly."

Sandra Cho leaned forward, placed her elbows on the table and steeple her fingers.

"I don't mind your insolent challenge one bit," she met his threat unflinchingly. "I'm not a lawyer. I'm a rich, socially-conscious libertine with a wide variety of friends."

"We will see about that," Chrétien spoke in is normal, emotionless tone. He even looked slightly aggrieved by the whole ordeal.

"I'm not concerned, Mr. Gris," Sandra grinned. "As I said, I have a wide variety of friends. A few of them are the most dangerous predators of all. They hunt other predators - men like you."

"We are done here," Kowalski announced.

"Do what you wish," Sandra shrugged. "Mr. Gris, Mr. Kowalski and Ms. (Alesia) Morton, I'm letting you all know right now, the girls, Ms. Inara and everyone she puts on this case will be aggressively protected and not just by lawyers. The people defending them can be very proactive in their zeal."

"I think I will let ADA Mitchell be aware of your 'suggestions', Ms. Cho, Mr. Kowalski," Margo said smoothly, "along with a detailed accounting of this meeting.

"In that account, I will report Ms. Cho having a theory about the crime. That is the sum total of her confessed knowledge about the assault on your client ~ a theory that she, a longtime resident of Las Vegas, is allowed to have," Margo chuckled.

"Besides that, she is letting you know that she will be paying for highly rated private security because people bringing charges against your client, Mr. Gris, have had numerous misfortunes ~ careers ruined, names smeared, fearful retractions, rumored pay-offs and even a few disappearances," Margo enlightened them.

"Personally, I heard her declaration and felt comforted by it, because I have no intention of violating the legal process. Her words clearly expressed a desire to remove the possibility of outside coercion without expressly stating she thought anyone in this room would do such a thing," the female defender added.

"Ms. Inara, this may be how you handle things in the Bush Leagues, but if I have to see that an army is brought to bear in order to clear Mr. Gris of any wrong-doing, I will see that justice prevails," Kowalski blasted back.

"Bush leagues ... boondocks ... Mr. Kowalski, in Nevada ... in Las Vegas, we rely on the modern judicial process," Sandra said.

"We also haven't forgotten our roots in Old World, Biblical justice ~ Code of Hammurabi, 'eye-for-an-eye' ~ 'no one gets away with it forever' kind of stuff. I don't think it will come to that," Sandra gave her Cheshire smile. "Mr. Gris, it is not too late for you to scurry away like the insignificant, abusive, narcissistic sociopathic beast you are."

"I promise you," Sandra pledged with utter conviction, "if this goes to trial, you will not be able to escape your well-deserved fate."

"Ms. Cho, I wasn't aware you had such undue influence with the Nevada judicial process," Alesia sniped.

"Ah, Ms. Morton, I leave the perversion of the legal process to your boss, Mr. Pharris," her gaze on Alesia would have made a barracuda balk. "What I'm promising everyone in this room is that justice will be done. If Mr. Gris knows he's done nothing wrong, he has nothing to fear. If you and Mr. Kowalski believe he is innocent, you have nothing to fear as well."

"Personally, I suggest you treat Mr. Gris as if he is gangrene. The only cure for gangrene is to cut out the tissue as well as the healthy tissue around it.

"Chrétien, you know why you were attacked last night. You saw how effective your elite team of mercenaries were in keeping you safe. You also know that if there is a next time, all of you are going to die. You have been warned of that," she finished.

"It was on the DVD," Margo hastily added.

"Margo," Sandra stood, "I suddenly no longer feel all that safe being in the same room with Chrétien. Bad things happen to people around him. Last time it was only people in his employ. Next time, it might be harder on any innocent bystanders standing too close."

"Ms. Inara ...," Kowalski prepared his offense.

"Facts already in evidence," Margo pointed at Mr. Gris as she stood. "Standing around him clearly is not safe. One of his assailants tortured his cook for information she quickly gave up ... and she clearly liked your boss. Eight armed former-French paratroopers ended up getting beaten half to death."

"Had it not been for the six women he was there to rescue, I have little doubt the police would have been investigating thirteen deaths," Margo pointed out.

"Fourteen disappearances," Sandra corrected. "The criminals would have dispatched the chauffeur when he returned, smuggled the bodies out and disposed of them somewhere. That's what I would have had them do, if they worked for me."

"Do you know people like that?" Margo asked Sandra as they were both heading out the door.

"I know all sorts of interesting people with unique approaches to life, asymmetrical problem solving abilities and who are paragons of the highest order."

"That's good to know," Margo responded as they departed.

Inside the room, Kowalski turned to Chrétien.

"What do you want me to do, Sir?"

"For now ... let it be. We are going back to New York to regroup. I have unfinished business here that will have to wait," he gingerly touched his scalded cheek. "I will conclude matters here at a later date. Keep tabs on Corona."

"Ms. Morton, find out everything there is to know about Ms. Sandra Cho," he commanded.

"Yes sir," she nodded readily. She thought he was obviously a troubled soul.

At the same time, outside, walking down the hall:

"I don't know what your game is, Ms. Cho, but I don't like being thrown in front of the lions like that," Margo growled.

"Ms. Inara," Cho talked while she strolled through the back hallways of power, "I am not abandoning you. I do not regard you as expendable. You have served my purposes admirably. In turn, if you need something you think I might be of assistance with, let me know. After all ..."

"You know interesting people," Margo finished up. She didn't trust Sandra Cho. She wasn't even sure she liked her. Still ... she found Sandra alluring as a woman who exemplified influence and menace in equal measure. She wanted to know more.

{Epilogue Two}

"Well Mother," Reagan ask her mother over their after dinner tea. "How did it go?" Talking business at home wasn't forbidden, though it was frowned upon. They had secure offices for that.

"You really do like that man," Sandra mused. "I looked into the matter. I met Mr. Gris ... oh, he's going to spend over a year with a plastic surgeon trying to repair what happened to him."

"Was it that bad?" Reagan murmured.

"No. Whoever beat him did a masterful job. The application of force was exceptionally well played. The fault lies squarely with Mr. Gris and his obsession with his own perfection. Pathetic actually. He was beaten clear down to his ego and no laser scalpel, or skin treatment will fix that."

"He is a control freak extraordinaire. He will definitely come gunning for us; of that I have no doubt. I've put Jessup on the matter. It will be expensive, but I so rarely get to mix business with pleasure," she smiled affectionately at her daughter. Sandra knew that her daughter was happier than she'd been in years. She was approaching her job with a new sense of direction and relish.

She doubted Reagan loved Vance. Vance wasn't a problem - he was a resource and the right person to put her daughter and the man she should be with back together. At that moment, Sandra missed her husband and regretted how he hadn't lived to see Reagan blossom into such a wonderful young woman. He could have talked some sense into his little girl.

He never would have allowed her to drive away the one man she truly loved, who truly loved her and most of all, she was sure she and Reagan could trust.

"What if it becomes too expensive?" Reagan worried.

"We ask your friend to finish what he started," Sandra touched the back of her daughter's hand. Reagan smiled at that. They were both sure Vance would get the job done.

Appearance of Principal Characters

Vance (Vardan) 'V' Vardanyan - He has thick, black hair kept short. His skin is a dark brownish-olive complexion. Medium brown eyes. Square jawed. Broad chested with powerful arms, a thick neck, more body-hair than the norm. A stocky frame (six foot tall, 240 lbs.).

Dabney Curtiss - She has long, wavy light-brown hair with blonde streaks and highlights. Her skin is fair and lightly tanned, it feels silky to the touch. Golden-brown eyes. Heart-shaped face. 34DD sized breasts with pale, broad areolas and puffy nipples. Athletic body type with robust buttocks, thighs and calves.

Georgianna 'G' Norquist - She is a natural honey/amber-blonde. Her skin tans easily and is currently darkly tanned and smooth. Oval-shaped face. Clear grey eyes. Her body is fit, toned and statuesque; a smidge on the slender side, which suggestively renders her 32D-sized breasts looking bigger than they actually are.

Detective Lieutenant Trixie Crowe Buchannan (LVMPD Internal Affairs Bureau [IAB]) -A fit, attractive woman with the quick-eyed, coltish gaze of a classic over-achieving misanthrope, hazel eyes, set in an oval face; brown hair normally worn in a ponytail that drops to the bottom of her shoulder blades. She is 5'9" and 120 lbs. with minimal exercise.

Detective Sgt. Soledad Moreno, (LVMPD Robbery/Homicide - Homicide) - Hispanic female, attentive blue-grey eyes set in a slender rectangular face. Her long black hair is thin as silk, shimmers in the light as it cascades loosely down to her mid-back. She is 5'8" and 117 lbs. with a physique chiseled by a strict and diverse physical training regimen.

Reagan Cho, daughter and designated successor for Circe, Vice Lady of Lust - She is tall, fit, with dark tanned skin hinting at Asian origins. Long black hair and black-rimmed glasses. Very serious and intense most of the time; taut in mind and body, but has a witty sense of humor about her when in good company. (If she has a flaw, it is her willingness to let less gifted people know she is smarter than they are.)

The Vice Lords

Circe Lust;

Sycorax Gluttony;

Archimago Avarice;

Jareth Sloth;

Thulsa Doom Wrath;

Baphomet Envy;

Xaltotun Pride;