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Authors: Leslie Langtry

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BOOK: I Shot You Babe
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I hit the ground hard on my bad shoulder and, in spite of myself, couldn’t keep from wincing. Dekker saw that and began a rapid burst of punches to that very same shoulder. How sporting of him.

“Stop hitting him! He’s injured!” Ronnie screamed.

Dekker paused long enough for me to see a look of comprehension come over his face. He grinned and drove his elbow into my head. As the stars faded to an inky smear I thought,
At least that solves that mystery.

Chapter Twenty-two

A desperate disease requires a dangerous remedy.


G
UY
F
AWKES

“Where’s Ronnie!” were the first words out of my mouth as I came to. I wasn’t even sure whether I was still in the grass or in a
ger.
Opening my eyes was an exercise in practical pain.

“Quiet, Cy,” Odgerel soothed. Other faces swam into view, including my newest BFF, Dr. Baatar.

“Where is she?” I pressed weakly. This time I knew better than to try to get up.

I could see Sansar-Huu look at Chudruk, who looked back at him. That didn’t seem good.

“Just be still,” Dr. Baatar said quietly.

In spite of the pain, I struggled to move. Why wasn’t anyone answering me?

“You have had a second impact to your concussion. You could have brain damage.” That caught me up short. The doctor handed me some pills, which I took without question. He spoke in Mongolian to my friends and I gave up even trying to understand them. Instead, I looked around the room. Everyone was there. Well, almost everyone.

“You have to rest. The doctor did not see any signs of damage, but you can’t leave here tonight,” Sansar-Huu said once Dr. Baatar had gone. “He will be back in the morning. You may need to go to the hospital for a CT scan.”

“All right. Fine. Just tell me where Ronnie is and I promise I will rest.”

“She came and told us where you were, and then she left,” Zerleg said.

“We haven’t seen her since,” Zolbin added.

I struggled to get up. “I have to find her….”

“Cy!” Odgerel shouted. “You cannot go anywhere. Ronnie will be fine. Just tell us what happened.”

I hated to admit it, but I wouldn’t be of help to anyone in this condition. I slowly lowered myself back down and filled everyone in on the fight.

“I’m afraid Ronnie’s gone after Dekker,” I finished.

“Why?” Chudruk asked.

“I don’t know. To chew him out. To ask him why.” My words were starting to spin around in my mouth and they tasted sour.

Sansar-Huu, Chudruk, Zerleg and Zolbin took off immediately to search the campground. Odgerel and Yalta insisted on staying with me. I watched as my
zazul
took a chair outside to sit and keep watch. I felt sorry for Dekker if he came back to finish me off.

“She has feelings for you, you know,” Odgerel said as she put a cold cloth on my head.

“Does she?” Deep down I knew she was right. I just had a hard time believing it.

“Yes. And you have feelings for her.”

I didn’t say anything. I was too worried about Ronnie. Why did she run off like that? What could she have been thinking?

“Veronica was very upset when she came here to tell us you were hurt,” Odgerel continued.

“It wasn’t her fault,” I said.

She looked at me, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

So I explained my jealousy over Dekker’s flirting with her and how Ronnie knew all about it.

“I was an ass,” I concluded.

My friend laughed. “Yes! You were!” She went off to admonish the kids, who were laughing at something. A second later she placed Sartre on my chest. As I started to stroke her fur, she purred. And it seemed I was back to where I’d started.

It was kind of soothing lying on the cot, petting my pig while the kids played on the floor. Odgerel sang songs that made the children giggle as she went about the preparations for dinner. I tried to think about what I needed to do to kill Dekker, but my head hurt too much. The pills the doctor gave me helped a little, but did nothing for the fear I had for Ronnie.

Sartre slid down into my armpit, snuggled up and went to sleep. That was soothing. A couple of times the kids tried to snatch her up, but their mother was always there to step in. I tried not to think of what Dekker might do to Veronica. So I tried to imagine that I was in my own
ger
with Veronica. What would our children be like?

That may have been the first time I ever thought about having kids with anyone. Oh, I loved kids. My cousins had some really funny children. I just never wanted any of my own. Most of the women I messed around with already had families. It just never came up. Part of the reason was that once the kids turned five, they had to start school. My life wasn’t meant for settling down and joining the PTA. And at five, Bombay kids had to start their training.

I supposed with our combined educations Veronica and I could homeschool as we traveled. Although I didn’t think my wife would like me training our children to become hired killers. What strange thoughts went through your head when you’d been clubbed by a Dutch mercenary at a Mongolian wrestling festival.

Zerleg and Zolbin burst through the door, rudely awakening Sartre. She let them know her displeasure with a loud, “Wheek,” then set about chewing on my T-shirt.

“We can’t find her!” Zerleg said, out of breath.

“We looked everywhere!” Zolbin panted.

Within the hour, Sansar-Huu and Chudruk returned with similar information.

“Two men I know saw her leave the grounds with Dekker,” Chudruk added.

It was silent in the
ger
for a few moments. I handed the guinea pig off to the children and they immediately fattened her up with grass.

“Why would she go with him?” Zolbin asked. His uncle shot him a look. It occurred to me that everyone here thought Veronica had chosen Dekker over me. They didn’t know what kind of man he was, what kind of danger Ronnie was in.

“I think I need to tell you a little something about Arje Dekker. Odgerel, could you send the kids outside for a few moments?”

Yalta came in when the kids went out. Chudruk translated. I told them I’d met Dekker on the circuit and read about him in the news. This seemed to mollify my friends. When I told them about the atrocities he’d committed, they were horrified. These were the descendants of the great Genghis Khan. They knew about the horrors of war. But the brutality of what Dekker had done shocked them.

“I don’t know why he has targeted me, and I don’t care. What I do care about is making sure he doesn’t hurt Veronica to get my attention.”

I had just finished when there was a knock at the door. Sansar-Huu’s oldest poked her head in and handed Zolbin a note.

“She says a boy dropped this off.” He handed the note to me.

My name was on the outside. The eyes of everyone in the tent were on me as I opened it.

Meet me at the abandoned block of flats outside of the city.

He included directions. How thoughtful. But what time? And would he have Veronica with him? He didn’t say to come alone.

I looked around the room. There was no way I could involve my friends in this. But I would need a ride.

Sansar-Huu turned off the headlights and coasted into a crumbling parking lot. It was almost midnight. And very dark. I felt for the flashlight in my pocket.

“We will look around for Veronica,” he whispered, pointing at Chudruk.

“Just stay out of sight. I’ll yell when it’s over,” I replied. This time I was taking no chances. Chudruk had given me his set of throwing knives—a sport I’d taught him when we worked together in the States. My goal was to find Dekker so my friends could find Veronica. We were a block from the meeting site.

Dekker had chosen a pile of rubble that used to be a Soviet-designed apartment building. There were many places he could hide. This was the perfect location for an ambush. Whatever happened, it had to be quick and quiet. I wanted this man dead once and for all.

My friends would go on foot around the perimeter, carefully searching for Ronnie. Both men were armed with old semiautomatics. We only had two guns, and I thought it would be better if they carried them. I could work quickly with knives.

My plan was to walk into the middle of the complex. Dekker wanted to see me. Well, that was what he was going to get. I waited until my eyes adjusted to the darkness. Then I headed in.

The air was sharp, in spite of its being July. I heard the clinking of broken cement on twisted, exposed rebar as rats slithered in the darkness. I wanted to find him right away. I was going to kill Arje Dekker if I had to do it with my bare hands. Fortunately, I could do that. It was simple leverage, really.

I heard footsteps off to my left. They were moving quickly in my direction, so I ducked into a broken entryway. The darkness smothered all light. The steps grew louder and I tightened my grip on one of the knives. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped, then started running in the opposite direction.

Lunging from my doorway, I flipped on my flashlight, only to see a shadow ahead round the corner. I was so busy concentrating on what was in front of me, I failed to look down. Something large tripped me. I fell, immediately twisting to my right. Pulling out the knife, I hurled myself at the body. It didn’t move.

I shined the flashlight and found the unconscious form of Veronica Gale on the ground in front of me. This left me with a dilemma: I could run after Dekker, or get this woman to safety. This wasn’t her fight. She wasn’t supposed to be here. The choice was clear.

I carried her back to the truck over my good shoulder and placed her gently in the passenger seat. I started the car and drove to the ruins, honking the horn again and again. Chudruk and Sansar-Huu emerged from the darkness and climbed in.

“He drove off.” Chudruk pointed toward the airport.

“She’s bleeding,” Sansar-Huu said. “She’s been hit in the head. Her breathing is shallow.”

I wasn’t even surprised to see Dr. Baatar at the hospital. He admitted Veronica and me, giving us both CT scans and thoroughly checking us out. He assigned us to a room for the night, and Chudruk stayed to stand guard while Sansar-Huu went back to the
ger.
I passed out once the doctor convinced me Ronnie was all right. I slept like a stone.

Chapter Twenty-three

Evey Hammond: [reads
] Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici.

V: [translates]
By the power of truth, I, while living,

have conquered the universe.

Evey Hammond:
Personal motto?

V:
From
Faust.

Evey Hammond:
That’s about trying to cheat the devil, isn’t it?

V:
It is.


V
FOR
V
ENDETTA

I’d been around a lot of dirtbags in my life. And I’d gotten to kill most of them. But none of them had ever been a real threat to me before. Maybe partly because I’d been younger, but mostly because I had been unattached. Bad guys had no leverage, nothing to threaten me with that would actually scare me in any way. Some of my cousins had been through rough times with either their kids being kidnapped or the people they loved threatened in some way. But not me.

This was new. Veronica was in danger. Because of me. And my vic had escaped his sentence because of my mistakes. This was unheard-of. I didn’t think anyone in the Bombay tribe had ever had to chase a vic. We always took them out where they stood.

My confidence, for the first time in my life, was shaken. I couldn’t just walk away from this one. And I didn’t know what to do. My number one task was to hunt down Arje Dekker and kill him so that Veronica was safe.

“Uh…” Veronica shifted on the hospital bed.

“Veronica?” I asked gently, closing the gap between our beds.

“Cy?” She looked up at me and frowned, then closed her eyes.

“You’re all right. The doctor says you are fine. We’re booked on the next flight home.” There was no reaction. But even if she was unconscious, it made me feel good to tell her that she was safe. Of course, I left out that the next flight home was on the Bombay family’s private plane, but I figured she didn’t need to hear that.

My biggest concern was Dekker. He was gone, and I was convinced that he knew that I was going to kill him. And I would kill him. There was no doubt about that.

Chudruk and Sansar-Huu went back to get Veronica’s and my things. I stepped out of the room to make a phone call.

“Missi?” I said quietly as my cousin answered. “I’m going to need the family jet and some information on Dekker’s whereabouts.”

“Hey, Coney!” came a voice that was not Missi’s. “It’s Monty. Mom’s on assignment.”

Damn. I really needed her. She was the one person who could get me what I needed. Leave it to the Bombay Council to send her out when she was our best techie.

“The jet will be there tomorrow morning.” Monty’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Who’s Dekker?”

Montgomery Bombay was one of Missi’s twin teenage sons. “Look, Monty, I appreciate the help. But you don’t have the chops yet to—”

“Okay, got it. Arje Dekker, on a flight to Berlin, then on to London. I can have you two land at Heathrow at the same time.”

“Um, okay.” You know, I shouldn’t be surprised by anything that happens in this family.

Monty sighed on the other end. “I just hacked into the system. It’s not like it was
hard
.”

“Sorry, kid. I underestimated you.”

“And I’m not a kid. You guys should figure that out. Mom trained me. ”

“Sorry, Monty.” And I meant it. Underestimating any Bombay was a dangerous venture. “So what’s my ETA in London?”

A few minutes later I hung up with everything I needed to know.

By the time Chudruk and the boys showed up, Ronnie was sitting up and eating. An hour later, she was moving around the room. She made it clear that she didn’t want to talk about what had happened. I could give her that. But once we got on the plane, I would have to know. Which meant I would also have to give her some insight into who Dekker was.

We slept hard that night. And in the morning Sansar-Huu and the others met us with the pickup and all of our gear.

“Thanks, Chudruk.” I hugged my friend and shook hands with Zerleg, Zolbin and Yalta. I would truly miss them.

“It has been good to see you.” Chudruk smiled.

I turned to Zerleg and held out a slip of paper. “The dean at Yale is a good friend of mine. He owes me money. He is expecting your call.”

Zerleg looked at me, then at his uncle. He took the paper with a nod and flung his arms around me.

“You have a full scholarship, if you want it,” I wheezed as the boy crushed me to him. I didn’t tell him that the scholarship was from the Bombay Trust I had established at the Ivy League school. He didn’t really need to know that.

Veronica stared at me, but said nothing. She continued her silence as we made our way to the airport and onto our private jet. It wasn’t until we were seated and I pulled Sartre out that she finally spoke.

“You have a private jet? And how did you get Zerleg into Yale?”

“Ah. She speaks. There must be intelligent life in that body after all.”

Sartre sank her teeth into my finger. Apparently she was on Ronnie’s side.

“Don’t give me that crap, Cy.” She gripped the armrests as the plane taxied down the runway. “When are you going to tell me who you really are?”

I gave her a look. “Who I really am? You mean I still don’t fit neatly into one of your stereotypes?”

“I’m not sure you’re even human!” she shouted. “How is this possible? How does a carney have a private plane at his beck and call?”

I pulled a carrot out of my pocket and gave it to the guinea pig on my lap. She took it as if she were the queen of Sheba and deserved such things.

“My family owns this jet. We are independently wealthy.”

Ronnie sat back and chewed her lip. “I guess that explains how you got into Yale and your connections for Zerleg.”

“Don’t piss me off, Veronica. I got into Yale because of my brains. My family doesn’t believe in undue influence over things like that.” And that was sort of true. Undue influence to get your kid into a good school…no. Undue influence to use the CIA to bail your kid out of a minor skirmish in Botswana…yes. It just depended on how you looked at it.

“Right.” She rolled her eyes.

“You said you don’t know who I really am,” I said calmly. “What did you mean by that?”

Veronica chewed her lip. Something was up.

“Did Dekker say something to you?”

She nodded. “He told me I really didn’t know you. Who you are. What you are.”

Well, that stopped me in my tracks. What did Dekker know about me? I was off the grid. Hell, I didn’t even have a social security number.

“Oh, yes,” I said quietly. “You should definitely take the word of a man who kidnapped you and dumped you unconscious in the worst part of town.”

She threw her hand up into the air. “What is it with you men anyway? How in the hell did I end up in this weird situation? I was perfectly happy in my little apartment at the university. But now I’m on a carney’s private jet after being kidnapped by some Dutch wrestler in Mongolia!”

“That is a lot to think about. Maybe you’re bad at decision making?” I teased.

“The only bad decision I made was to think I had feelings for you, Coney Bombay!”

Now, that hurt.

BOOK: I Shot You Babe
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