Page 35 of Triple Threat

“She’s bloody furious, mate,” I said, trying to not clench my jaw.

“I didn’t hurt her, I just told her to not ruin any more of the dresses,” he said.

“I’m getting right tired of this game,” I said. “You bring this scrap of a girl here, and you tell me what you want done with her, and you vanish. Yes, I know some of that was work, but I also know a good bit of that was you swilling gin and choking prostitutes, so don't try to put me on.”

“Does that suddenly bother you now?” he asked, his voice was cool.

“Oh, that’s not what has my bollocks in a twist. I’ve been trying to make friends with this wee chippie of yours, not knowing who she is to you. She didn’t know who you were, and fuckmeif I’m going to throw that into the mess! It’s like making friends with a feral cat. She doesn’t trust anyone, everything is suspicious, she's constantly on bloody edge and it’s enough to make my hands shake because I’ll be fucked if I break my sobriety because of some wee piece you’ve trotted intoourhouse.”

“All you had to do was make sure she didn’t die and get that awful blue out of her hair; you did everything I asked,” he said. “I didn’t ask you tobefriendher, justtake care of herlike you would take care of anything else for me.”

“Oh, forfuck’s sake,” I swore. “She’s ahuman being, Lach! A scared one, and you want me to treat her like one of thecars,or one of our bloodyguns?”

“Yes. Precisely,” Lach said. “She’s one of my things and should be treated accordingly.”

“She’s not athing,” I said. He raised an eyebrow. “She’s not, she’s a human being.”

“So were all of the people I killed three days ago, though one was more an animal than a human. Killing him was a service to the gene pool,” he said.

“What happened to the line where we justified this by only killing bad guys for other bad guys. Where are our morals?” I snapped.

“I tortured a man, cut his balls off, and watched him hang from a dead tree until he died. I killed over a dozen men in a series of firefights and executed several at close range. A woman with some of the nicest tits you’ve ever seen tried to pull steel on me and I blew bloody holes in her cleavage. The mission went almost perfect, and after all that killing, all that death, all those bodies, you’re upset because ofwhat?” he demanded.

“Because you’ve lost your bloody humanity, and have me playing jailor to a kidnapping victim, one that is particularly upset right now,” I snarled.

“Come down off your high horse, Conan,” Lach snarled. “She’s homeless and has no family; she can’tbekidnapped, because there was nothing to steal herfrom. Everything is going to be better for her now, she just has to adjust to the new environment.”

“And her new environment is as your property?”

“Functionally, yes.” I wanted to hit him. “She belongs tomenow.”

“Who is she to you?” I felt my anger close to boiling. He picked up the Beretta he had carried on the last mission, turning the pistol over in his hands.

“Maybe I should ask who you thinkshe is toyou,” he said more than asked.

“She’s a scared girl being held against her will,” I blustered, hating how he was trying – andsucceeding– to put me on the defensive.

“Would she even be alive if I hadn’t brought her here?” he asked pointedly.

“Well, likely…” I considered the severity of the pneumonia, the anemia, and the other issues she had when the doctor diagnosed her. If she had gone to a clinic, they might have taken care of her, but she was homeless, undocumented,no one. I knew the point he was getting at, and I hated that he was right. “No,” I admitted.

“Correct; if I hadn’t almost hit her with the car, she would have continued on for a few days, maybe a week, and then what? She would have died. From one medical thing or another, doesn’t matter which. She’d still be dead.” He dropped his gaze back to the Beretta in his hand and almost softened a bit. “But now she’s safe and in much improved health, and for that, for the cost of the medical care, and the car, and the fucking dress, she’smine.” he said, the hardness and his resolve redoubled by the time he finished his sentence. He began to take the Beretta apart.

“You are unbelievable,” I said.

“Lima,” he shot back.

“Lima? What’s Peru got to do with any-bloody-thing,” I demanded, scowling even harder.

“Lima Syndrome,” he said. I gave him a vaguely aggressive glare. “Oh,holy fuck,” he said with a feral grin. “Is there something I know that Conan Roandoesn’t?” He gave a laugh. “It’s the opposite of Stockholm Syndrome,” he said.

“Stockholm…” I paused.

“Stockholm, where hostages become sympathetic to their captors, you know,Beauty and the Beast. Lima Syndrome is the opposite, where the hostage taker, that would be you in this scenario,” he pointed at me with the cleaning wand for the gun barrel, “is starting to catch feelings for the woman he’s supposed to be watching.”

“I know what Stockholm Syndrome bloody is! And I don’t have feelings for her,” I said, back on the defensive worse than I was before.

“That’s very,very, good,” he said. “Because Sadie ismine. I’ve known her from years ago, same foster home. She was the first girl I kissed… If you and your red eyebrows even think about psychoanalyzing that, I’ll put you on your ass faster than you can blink.” Part of me wanted to prove him wrong, but wisdom reminded me that there was no telling how jacked up he might be on interstate stimulants, energy drinks, or whatever else he might have been willing to pick up.Lach was a bit cavalier about stimulant and drug use, though his self-control and resolve were next to none… including myself. It made him a certain sort of unpredictable in his predictability.

---