Page 89 of Triple Threat

During the ride back to the house, Sadie leaned over in the back seat and went to sleep. Lach and I might have talked about what happened, but he didn’t want to talk about it front of her, even if she were dead to the world. And then there was the fact that she looked like an angel with her head pressed against his shoulder. No need to sully the moment with talk of devils and dastardly deeds.

The tensest part of getting everyone settled back in the house was helping Lach dress Sadie for bed. She still had the smell of island, travel, and sex on her, and for a moment we held her between us, naked as the day she was born.

What would it be like?I wondered, but just as soon as the idea entered my mind, I pushed it out. The coming day was her own, and there was no telling how much Lach had put on her on their island jaunt.

After she was tucked away, we retreated to the lounge. Lach dropped into his leather lounger, and I brought him a highball glass of ice, gin, and muddled mint. “How was St. Henri?” I asked.

“Rough,” he said. “Between how much sun I soaked up and getting in unexpected CQC, I’m beat.”

“Something’s up,” I said. “There’s been plenty of activity and I am concerned that Chauvignon might have taken rejection as grounds to try and burn us.”

“Napoleon is taking being told no as a personal affront?” Lach asked.

“Possibly, there is also a chance that this frog might have put an open contract on us,” I said. “I’m not completely sure but it’s pretty obvious that we’ve stepped into a family dispute. I didn’t put two and two together, but the Death Squad leader wasle Generale’sbrother.”

“So, he’s mad we killed his brother and aren’t interested in joining his poison candy club? Fuck him,” Lach sneered. “He hired us to kill his brother, double fuck him.”

“I think we were supposed to fail, so that it would scare the Death squaddies to come back home to Gaffer Chauvignon, like good goons,” I said.

“That’s why the pay was so high, they weren’t really planning on paying out,” Lach said. “I bet the blonde-headed Asian bitch was setting me up to take me out.”

“It’s possible, she has a string of aliases and a body count that is rather impressive. Not as impressive as ours… but still impressive,” I said. “Lots of close contact, and the bodies are clean, no sign of what happened, or why they died.”

“She’s a poisoner and uses something obscure enough that forensics doesn’t know to look for it. Frog poison or some shit.” He took another drink.

“It’s likely,” I replied. “I’ve started dusting some of the contingencies off and making sure that they are high and tight as a precaution.”

“Good, hopefully this was just a coincidence, or we can do something to get these assholes to parley. We don’t want a war with them if we can help it.”

“What if we can’t help it?” I asked.

“Then we remind them that France hasn’t won a war since.” He looked over at me and grinned. “When was the last time that the French won a war? Like on their own, not without one of us, pulling their dicks out of the fire.”

“When you put it like that, I don’t know.” I gave a small laugh. “How was the flight back? It was a little tricky wrangling a charter flight on short notice.”

His smile said it all. Sadie was indeed a newly indoctrinated member of the mile-high club, as I suspected.

“Did we buy the jet?” he asked.

“Technically, yes, but we only owned it for the duration of the flight. I had a buyer set up before you landed. They’ve already taken possession of it. Even made a tidy sum from it; not much, but still.”

“I wonder what she’s going to do tomorrow,” Lach mused.

“Whatever she wants, but I've set her out a lavender and chamomile bath bomb and a thick pile robe. I remember the one time I went to St. Henri – no bath tubs, no real water pressure, and the first thing I wanted when I got back was a shower. A hot one.”

“You can get that there now, but you have to book a room in the tower hotel, and if you’re going to do that, what’s even the point of going?” Lach asked.

“Fair point,” I conceded. “She can take a bath, and then whatever she wants to do after that,” he said, his gaze rather far away.

* * *

They slept in late,each in their respective rooms. I wasn't surprised to find that neither of them had engaged in any late-night shenanigans. I wouldn’t have minded a visit from Sadie, but after a three-day, two-night trip to the Caribbean with Lach? She would sleep until noon. I had plenty with which to keep myself busy.

I used the fold-down stairs, accessed the roof, and started checking some of the additions I’d made to the house. None of these features were conventional, or even rational, really. I’d had a surplus of time on my hands, and a few time-consuming hobbies. I certainly made the best use of my time investing our earnings, and making sure that we would want for nothing, but electronics and computers made that a matter of hours and required them only a few days a month. The rest of my time I gave to my post combat hobby; preparedness and building defenses.

I keyed the lock and opened the door to the cupola that overlooked the entire front of the property, turning on the light above what was easily one of my pride and joys. It had been expensive, and only very slightly illegal to get into the country. I had been in luck finding a broken one being sold in a Pakistani market, likely looted from a crashed Marine helicopter or gunship. The M134 mini-gun had six barrels, an electric drive motor, and an improvised remote-control system. I’d made a further addition of an optical camera of my own design.

I wiped the lens and checked the battery in the laser designator, regrettably one of the flaws in my design. The system drew power from the house grid, although it was hard-lined to the generator, so if the power was cut my gun wouldn’t be silenced.

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