Phantoms, Insults, Morals, and Technology

"I know, Abel. But I don't want you to be alone."

"But it wouldn't be the same..." I stopped myself, afraid she would be angry.

"Of course it won't, silly."

"I can wait for you."

"Dammit," she pulled away, turning and striking my shoulder with a fist, "I'm serious! You don't really think there's this," and waved a hand along her naked body," in the next life?" I opened my mouth but did not have an answer. "You big dummy, I'll always be with you. I'm part of you. Nothing will ever change that. But if you get to the next life and I find out you didn't let yourself be loved... didn't find someone to risk loving again I will be So mad." Her eyes flashed with... blue sparks, something I had never seen before. "It may be a year or a month... maybe it's just a week. You will find someone who loves who you are and who you can love and Abel, my devoted Abel, I want you to take that chance!"

"I don't want to talk about it," I argued, "You woke me from the most awful dream. You were gone and I didn't know what I was going to do except get the bastard..."

"My sweet idiot, Abel," she hugged me before stepping back, her hand rising to my cheek. "This is your dream, you silly man. Our dream, I guess. And when Natasha reminds you of me, tell her. My eyes widened, how could she know what I had been dreaming about. Her attention shifted, eyes going wide with obvious fear. "I'm sorry Abel. I love you. And I miss you, but right this moment, you have to wake up!"

***

I snapped fully awake, the echo of her scream in my ears. I found myself reaching up into the empty darkness above me for my wife. Squeezed my eyes shut, gritting my teeth, fighting the urge to scream. It had seemed so real.

I realized my phone was vibrating. I grabbed it, trying to remember if I had made a sound. I saw Leo, I was sure, and two capable looking men in body armor with suppressed submachine guns. They had not bothered with a systematic search of the parking area, which was no surprise—I had left the rental parked with the tag exposed to ease their search. Even so, they seemed quick to head for the stairs. I made a mental calculation of the size of the loft and opened another ap on the phone, entering a code and pressing a button. A low his began across the empty space. My phone buzzed again. I glanced at a text.

'A heads up, Abel, it's Frank. Had a guy come through maybe ten minutes ago, asking after you by description. One of the scumbags you scared off last night was back, and said you had been in. It looked like he had three guys with him, and one just sort of hung around, watching to see if any of us tried to warn you. He just got a call and left.'

'Thanks,' I answered, 'I see them on my security set up. I appreciate the heads up.' They had stopped at the landing and sure enough a third guy arrived, still buckling his vest into place. He was carrying a breaching shotgun.

I remotely unlocked the door to the loft, turned on the music, still wondering how they could be so brazen to be coming after me during the day. I checked my watch, to see I had slept not until 10 AM, but 10 PM. I was looking at the screen, trying to decide just what I was going to do to get the information I needed when I realized what I had been forgetting. Laney's cloned phone. I had she and the whistleblower's texts. I almost laughed, realizing I had the key to the guy's ThinkPad.

It made my decision making a lot easier, even if I was wrong. I realized I was getting light-headed and reached into the bag I had set down. First I unscrewed the thread protector at the end of my Glock. The cylinder that screwed into place doubled the length of the pistol, but the weight was still balanced, thanks to the red dot site mounted just forward of the oversize dovetail sight. I giggled at an errant thought... definitely light-headed. It reminded me of the scene in an Officer and a Gentleman, and I stopped worrying about anything but making sure my little surprise did not get me too.

It was long enough watching them ascend the stairway on once camera after another I had almost decided they had corrupted my feed and were coming at me from another direction when they finally made the turn onto the second floor landing and approached the door. I wondered if the breacher would ruin my little plan. I was a little disappointed they did not have nigh vision goggles—I had wired the lights so I could blind anyone wearing the amplifiers. The first guy tried the knob, and paused, conferring with the boss. He held position as they went the rest of the way down the hall, finding this was the only possible place I could be laying low. I was kicking myself for not getting cameras with audio. But I doubted it would be the death of me. Leo's team leader opened the door and spilled into the loft continuing straight ahead to the left, toward the closet and bathroom that were beyond the kitchen.

The second guy, sporting a gray-tinged beard in the dimly lit hall, button-hooked right and stayed along the wall, playing his focus from chair to stack of building supplies to empty cases. His partner came straight ahead, violating the rules of sweeping a space, but he was Leo's bodyguard. And Leo entered last. When he turned at the door I worried he was going to chock it open. Instead, he made sure the door was closed completely, even throwing the deadbolt above the knob I had replaced. I watched in the last feed as they began a slow move through the open space.

I was glad I had chosen to use the alcove matching the one that had already been cleared but on the far side of the room. When they had all moved five or six feet in I touched a button and the new WiFi locking door knob beeped loudly. All four men turned to the noise then the wingmen immediately shifted focus back to the main room, searching for targets.

I was impressed enough that I made sure I was below the level of the bags of concrete I had set up as a sort of makeshift fox hole as well as my bed. I glanced at the clock, wishing I had started a timer when they had breached. I knew how long it had taken me to start to feel it. There had to be more filling the room then that, and these guys were adrenalized, ready to kill, their heart rates way above 'I was just dreaming.'

They fell in order, the team leader dropping just a step shy of the turn to my alcove, followed before Leo and his bodyguard could react by the other wingman. I think the bastard realized what was happening then. Because he spoke, and his expression changed, because of course his voice sounded deeper than it should. His bodyguard had started to turn to answer, when he simply folded up as well.

Leo made it to the door. Which of course was locked, and with no means to manually unlock it.

When he went down in a heap I selected the app, stopping the flow of Halon through the fire suppression system. I hoped there was not so much leakage of the heavier than air gas into the lower floor that it caused any problems. Then I lay there, waiting. Initially I had planned to incapacitate any of those who came for me, so I could take Leo for a long and for him painful conversation. But I thought I had the key, so I let him and the others enjoy the full reward for trying to burn a modern building down.

In the end, Leo was just a tool of someone else. He had to die, for taking Her way from me, but I was not done. The brains behind the whole thing were going to suffer. I checked my own oxygen supply and got up after giving it fifteen minutes. I turned on the fans and went to examine the bodies. Used Leo's thumb, then third finger to unlock his phone, the suspicious bastard had not used his thumb as the access. Turned off the security features on the phone, told it to copy all data to a jump disc I slipped in to the Lightning port, and dropped it in a Faraday bag.

I stripped the others' armor and the heavy weapons, leaving each with the sidearm they were carrying. I took the bag of fire-starting paraphernalia Leo had brought along, and set it up before dragging his corpse over like the suppression system had killed him. The bodyguard was left closest to him, the team leader I dragged farther inside, and left his wingman nearest the door.

Then I began to pack up. Changed the lock back to what it had been, and ran upstairs to make sure no one would think the suppression system had been tampered with. I put my mask back on to go back into the Loft, just to be safe. I grabbed up the camera bugs as I went, using team leader's and then Leo's keys to find their vehicles. I left the paper I had gotten at the diner in Leo's car, wiped clean of prints of course, and turned to the article about the deceased. Lastly, I cranked the AC to max, noting the WiFi so I could turn it back to what Bruce had set it to. I needed 24 hours to have an alibi.

With everything safely packed, I went into the tavern through the back hall. Frank came around the bar, meeting me halfway and shaking my hand.

"So everything is fine?" I shrugged, nodding.

"Yeah, the asshole and his flunkies are home office guys. They hired me, they can fire me, I guess. And I reported I had talked to Fez, so maybe they think it's all going to be fine."

"From your lips to His ears," Frank agreed, neither of us believing it would happen like that. I felt bad about what was going to happen in another day or two.

"Well keep the card," I waved a finger at him, "If you ever need me I owe you one." I had started to turn back toward what was going to be my exit when Frank motioned east.

"You're going to say goodbye to Nastya, too." Not a question. I paused.

"Nastya?"

"A... pet name," he shrugged, "It's a nickname for Natashas from the East."

"Not sure I like Eastern nicknames," I deadpanned, "She's an amazing woman."

"You don't know the half of it, Abel," Frank checked himself from saying more then as if offering a challenge, "Maybe she will tell you about it."

"What did she tell you?"

"She said you're good at hiding loss." His expression grew concerned, and he set a hand on my shoulder, "I told her you're not that good at hiding it. Just talk to her, and we will call it even."

"Oh no, you don't get off the knowing you've got a marker you can use with me that easily," I sighed, then nodded. "I will, thanks," I told him, "Someone close to me said the same thing just recently." He was obviously puzzled but simply nodded, and then I went back down the hallway.

I made sure to be noisy coming through the back door at Molly Moon, not wanting to be shot by the woman I had met... just a day ago. There was a shake or malt on the machine when I stepped into the room. Lee was working, but I did not see Natasha. I was a little surprised there were no other patrons.

"We closed early," Lee said quietly, as if reading my mind, "Miss Natasha got a call from Frank a while ago. She said we would close, no matter what the owner thought.

"So she's gone?" Lee shook her head but said nothing else. "Well, I guess I'll take another vanilla malt," I shrugged, "I haven't had anything since the last one."

"You mean the last three?"

"Hey," I protested, "One of those someone else drank." Lee retrieved the drink being made from the mixer, poured it into a glass and left the rest in the mix cup beside it for me. I carried them to the bar seats beyond the ice cream freezers. "Too bad you don't have griddle burgers and fries to go with this." Lee shrugged, where she was cleaning up. "I don't suppose you know when Natasha will be back?" That got another shrug.

"All right, asshole, where's the rest of my guys?" I was suddenly pinned against the counter by a man with at least four inches and fifty pounds on me. He had the back of my jacket firmly in his left hand and a big automatic in the other. 'Sorry, Babe,' I thought, wishing I had been methodical enough to get all of the assholes. I was kind of surprised he had not figured it out when I was making all of my trips back and forth.

"Uhm, where are what guys, asshole?" I said, which earned a shake. "Dude, you're acting like the mafia coming at me because I owe a gambling debt." The guy paused, then shook me again.

"No, asshole, nice try. You gonna pretend you aren't who Leonard is after? That he's just occupied? There's no way all of our coms drop. They went up to get you so what happened? Who else is here?"

"I'm telling you just calm down. You have this wrong, wait for this... Leonard? There's another tenant up in the Loft," I struggled like he would expect, "He's new, only been here a day or two, I don't even know his name." Added some pleading to my tone, "Seriously, dude, look around. I'm here to eat ice cream. It's just you and me and the kid... what's your name, darlin'" I feigned focusing on her name tag, "Lee? Well Lee, why don't you go in back, I'm sure there's some cleaning you have to do or something, and this rather rude man and I can sit down to figure this out."

"Oh no, asshole, if you want her gone, she means something to you. Maybe if it means saving her life you'll have a different answer. I was preparing to go for the gun when there was an awful tearing sound, followed by a gurgle. I spun out of his grip, away from his gun hand, while blindly grabbing for it. By some miracle I came away with the use worn Glock 19. And then I realized luck had nothing to do with it. Blood was pouring out of a gaping wound above his clavicle, and cutting forward across his larynx. He coughed weakly, a bubble of blood appearing at the corner of his mouth. Continuing my turn, I saw Natasha standing behind the dying thug, a wicked little knife stained with his blood in her hand. The hilt was flared into an oval ring through which she had two fingers.

"Grab that cling wrap," I urged Lee, who responded as if seeing a guy stabbed to death was an everyday occurrence. I wrapped it around the guy's neck and chest, looking at Natasha, who had moved behind the counter. She calmly set about rinsing the little blade, after which she slipped it into a hidden sheath under her skirt. She pulled a bottle of bleach out from under the sink and set about cleaning any blood that was left in the work sink.

"What are you going to do with him?" she asked. I pointed at the box of gloves beside Lee, which I barely got on but they would keep from my leaving prints as I collected the guy's driver's license, cash, and credit cards from his wallet. I kept hold of it all in one hand, draping the nearly dead weight's arm over my shoulder.

"All right, asshole," I said to the barely breathing man, "I don't know what is going on, but if you want to live we have to get you out of CHOP. The ambulances aren't coming in here. So we walk to a gap where we can slip out." He managed a nod. The women were looking at me like I had lost my mind. I winked at Natasha, "Stay by the door, I'll be back in a minute. We went out and staggered left, crossing the market and the bookstore, the Tavern, and the art shop I had never entered. I pulled up at the dark corner where the street turned north, a blind spot of sorts.

"Here," I told him, "You're bleeding worse. It's almost safe here, I'll go get them. I stripped off the cling wrap, trying not to let any drip as I hurried back where I had come. Before I headed back, though, I Frisbeed the credit cards up the street to the north. I was back at the ice cream shop in less than ten minutes, but at the doorway I hesitated, worrying yet another guy might appear. The door opened and a strong hand caught my bicep, almost yanking me inside. Natasha. I was starting to understand 'Nastya.'

"Watch it, the evidence..." but Lee had already used a plastic bag to catch the wadded nearly dripping cling wrap. As she tied it shut and dropped it into a second bag, Natasha pulled me to the sink and repeated the cleaning she had done on the knife on my hands.

"So I guess thanks are in order," I started. I was not sure she had heard. "I owe you one, too." Still no answer. "Stop shutting me out like my wife did," I said, blinking in surprise as I wondered if that's what Laney had meant, "You are so much like her in so many ways," I went on, wondering if this was what Laney had meant. "I'm sorry about last night. That kiss was... You are amazing. But I just... it feels like I'm betraying her, you know?" Natasha looked up at me and smiled.

"She was blonde, yes?" I nodded puzzled. "She was in my dreams last night," Natasha began drying my hands and the sleeves of my coat, Lee tucking the wet towels into another bag, or maybe it was still the first two bags. "Very pretty. Very serious. Told me to wait to save you."

"You mean, you didn't see that guy earlier?"

"No. I waited in my office. And when he came..."

"At least now I know where you keep your knife." She snorted, and a butterfly knife clicked open with an ease betraying long practice in her left hand.

"You know where one of my knives is." I laughed, then looked at Lee. Both women were too comfortable with what was happening. "There's... there was a problem upstairs," I started, "I have to get out of here."

"We can clean it," Lee started. I shook my head.

"Not necessary. But there will be more that come after... In a couple days if I did everything right. They will ask questions." Natasha sighed, and wiping her hands on her apron, went through the break in the counter and into her office. She came out a few minutes later carrying a backpack which she handed to Lee. There was already a similar pack on her back. She had a roller suitcase in one hand.

"Then we must leave," she shrugged, "I cannot have people asking questions. So we go with you."

"Is Lee your daughter?" I was trying to understand what was happening. Natasha laughed, shook her head.

"No, is my sister. My father married another woman... after my mother." I mentally added 'stress' to the list of things that would bring back her accent.

"Your father of the CZ?" She nodded. So he had survived the fall of the Soviet Union and the various purges. "So he trained you..." I looked at where she had dispatched the guy preparing to end me, "To do that?"

"He trained us both," Lee said, and Natasha nodded.

"I'm not sure I want to meet him, considering I've put you both in danger, now."

"He is gone," Natasha was talking about an old event but I could tell it still hurt, "Murdered."

"Oh, God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean."

"It's all right," Lee assured me, "But there are people who think we know things..."

"Things that could get them in trouble." Natasha nodded. "So they cannot find us."

"Well, I just happen to have some experience getting out from under people like that," I stopped, realizing I was already agreeing to take them with me.

"Do we need to talk to Frank?" I suspected there had been something of an overwatch created between the two.

"Frank is sweet, like a father to us," Natasha sniffed, "But was DEA." I nodded. He was retired but had been part of the establishment. An establishment she did not trust.

"You know I was a cop?"

"We know your story, Abel," Lee assured me, unzipping her bag to show me her laptop, "And you left prints on the second malted glass. I have some skills in getting where I'm not supposed to be." I reached for the roller luggage handle and found Natasha's hand instead. "We think sticking with you is our best bet." As if what I wanted or thought did not matter. Typical women.

"And one day, Abel," the casually sexy woman pinned me in place with her gaze before I could decide how to respond, "One day you will be ready to kiss me."

"Ewww," Lee teased, even as I felt myself nod.

"Do you really want me to call you Nastya?" I asked as we reached the back of the ice cream shop. Her mouth quirked up on one side. Lee giggled.

"Let us see if you earn such intimacy."

"I'm a dogged student," I assured her, smiling. "It will be a little cramped in the FJ," I stopped, the women were moving to a flat gray Escalade parked in the closest spot to where I had hidden the FJ.