Stand By Your Hitman (17 page)

I rolled my eyes. “Puhleese! Don’t give us that alpha-male-macho, save-the-women-and-children-first schtick!” I pointed at the magazine. “You know, both of you, it’s hard enough to raise two boys without all the chauvinistic messages out there! Do you guys even think before you speak?”

Isaac and Moe looked at each other. They didn’t appear to have the same mind-reading skills my boys did.

“Missi,” Isaac started, “this isn’t the best time to…”

“Oh, and I suppose it’s okay to act like a gorilla when a woman is in danger. Is that it? Because I can take care of myself.”

Monty and Jack were looking at each other as if to say, “Mental note—Mom needs Midol.”

“And you two!” I turned toward my whelps. “Women don’t want to be rescued! We’re not airheads and we don’t wear garters and stockings anymore!” Okay, even I wasn’t sure where this was going.

“Enough!” Moe screamed. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He pointed at me. “I have a gun! That means I’m in charge and I don’t need a feminist-bullshit lecture from you!”

I crossed my arms and said, “Fine! The floor is yours, Moe. If that’s your real name.”

“Um, no. What kind of international criminal mastermind would I be if I used my own name? Not a very good one, I can tell you that.”

Isaac growled. “His name is Brad Underwood. A real, first-class asshole.”

Oh boy. Here we go again. I could just picture the two of them in puffy shirts and breeks, slashing at each other with fencing foils.

Moe raised an eyebrow. “You knew more than you let on. How nice.”

“And he’s responsible for supplying terrorists of fifteen third-world countries with all the weapons they need to kill innocent people.”

Great. Just great. The Council had given me the wrong guy.

I watched as the boys gently tugged at the knots in unison. Man, they did everything in perfect sync. Now that I thought about it, it was kind of weird. But then, this wasn’t really your average situation.

Moe leveled his gun at Isaac, but for some reason didn’t pull the trigger.

“Just shut up,” Moe snapped. He was silent as he weighed his options. Unfortunately, I was convinced that each of those options included four lifeless bodies. And I couldn’t allow that.

Moe held the submachine gun in a solid grip about midtorso. Rushing him wouldn’t be a good idea because he could mow us down in seconds. Usually, the old adage, “rush a gun, run from a knife,” is reliable. In this case it was too risky. I had to do something and fast.

“I can’t believe I fell for that whole useless-fat-guy-who-is-really-an-evil-genius ploy!” I shouted dramatically. “You really had me going, thinking you lived in your mom’s basement and were unemployed and ignorant!”

Monty shot me a look that said, “Um, Mom, what are you doing?” I ignored him.

“Wow. You really had me and everyone else fooled!” I slapped my forehead with cartoonish exaggeration
but tried to keep sarcasm out of my voice. Moe looked at me quizzically, uncomprehending. At least he took the gun off of Isaac.

“Although you must admit, you were pretty convincing,” I added loudly. “I mean look at you! Who lets themself go like that in order to go underground? That must have taken some real willpower on your part. Pretty impressive!”

Moe looked at me as if I were nuts, as if he couldn’t figure out whether I was insulting or complimenting him. And that’s what I wanted. It was time for Crazy Missi to take over.

“I mean you really had to work at putting on all that weight and acting that stupid. How much did you have to eat to get so fat?”

“Um, what are you getting at?” Moe asked cautiously.

“Oh! Am I stealing your thunder by monologuing for you? It’s just that I’ve never met an international criminal and I never ever would’ve guessed you were one. Good job!”

Moe’s eyes went back and forth like a computer that couldn’t make something compute. Like in
War
Games
. Remember that movie? Where Matthew Broderick asked the superenormous computer to play tic-tac-toe until it wins—shutting it down in the process? I love that film.

“I always thought people like you were tall, dark and gorgeous, with a devious mind and nerves like
steel. You sure had us all fooled.” I was starting to worry that I was going too far.

“Listen, bitch!” Moe sputtered. “Shut up before I kill you first!”

“That’s interesting! Keep us all guessing about who would be more valuable to kill first. You should write a book!” I sounded completely sincere, which confused him.
Confuse-A-Criminal
—maybe I’ll trademark that phrase.

What was my strategy? Well, Lex and Sami were heading in this direction now that they hadn’t found Isaac on the golf course—since, obviously, he was right here. Talking loudly might get their attention, I thought. Talking like a madwoman was just to buy time. And for fun. In spite of the danger, it
was
a little fun.

I watched as Monty and Jack each slipped the loose ropes into his grip. Smart boys.

A twig cracked outside, and Moe spun toward it, firing wildly. Taking advantage of the distraction, Monty and Jack sprang from the floor and tackled him. The big man went down like a sack of potatoes.

The door opened very slowly and I ran to it. To my horror, Sami staggered in, bleeding heavily from the shoulder.

“Dumbass!” was all she said as she slipped to the floor, unconscious.

Lex rushed into the room as I pulled Isaac’s knot loose behind him. Lex kicked Moe in the head as Isaac removed the gun from his grip.

It was over. And we’d all survived it. A moan from the floor caught my attention, and I knelt beside Sami. A quick examination showed that, while no internal organs were hit, she was bleeding fast. Too fast. The boys were busy making sure Moe was tied up securely and Isaac had his gun trained on the man.

“Lex,” I said and he turned to face me. “I need your belt and shirt.” Lex didn’t hesitate to pull off his clothes. I folded up the T-shirt to cover the wound and tied it on tightly with his belt. It wasn’t that good a tourniquet but it was all I had.

“We have to move her,” I said, even though I knew we shouldn’t. It was very dangerous. But she was more likely to get medical help back at the resort than here in the middle of nowhere.

At my direction, Lex tore several planks of wood off the shack walls (shirtless and looking soooooo hot as he did so), and using the leftover rope, we managed to stabilize Sami. Using the invention as a makeshift cot, Lex and I carefully moved toward the trail. Isaac pushed Moe ahead of him while Jackson held one end of his bonds. Monty, my lean and lithe boy, ran like hell to the Blanco Tigre to try to advance the assistance.

Isaac, Jack and their prisoner moved faster than we did, but I wasn’t pushing it. Sami had lost a lot of blood. Lex walked in front, with me in the back. She remained unconscious for a while, then started coming to, babbling incoherently about the unlikely sexual relationship between a chicken and a dog. Finally she passed out again.

Lex’s naked back distracted me to no end. The man had an awesome back—muscular in all the right places, but not overly so. I shook my head to clear it.

“Why did you come looking for me?” I asked.

He said nothing for a moment. “I had to make sure you were all right.”

“I’m sorry I was such a jerk,” I admitted. “I really didn’t mean those things I said to Dr. Andy. Especially not about you.”

Lex spoke slowly. “No, I’m an asshole. I should never have accused you of destroying the show.”

Neither of us said much else for the rest of the way. We simply focused on getting Sami back safely. It was a tough trip. In spite of Sami’s lean physique, my arms ached as I carried my half of the litter.

We were met at the end of the trail by two paramedics, who took over carrying Sami to the ambulance. Lex and I walked through the staring resort dwellers (we probably looked pretty weird, covered in blood and Lex without a shirt) up to the conference center, where Julie ushered us into the room we’d been in earlier.

I looked around the conference room, which was full of television producers, policemen and what I assumed were network attorneys (they were wearing lawyerly shoes—dead giveaway). No one seemed to notice Lex, me or the boys. All the focus was on Isaac and Moe.

Monty and Jack hugged me, then went over to watch the chaos. I turned to Lex, and his muscular, naked chest.

“I’m sorry about your shirt and belt,” I offered.

Lex smiled. “You can have the pants too, if you want.”

That was all it took for me to dive into his arms. Lex kissed the top of my head. What ever happened next didn’t really matter, as long as this moment lasted forever.

It took hours for us to sort things out. The boys disappeared, returning twenty minutes later with a Blanco Tigre shirt for Lex. He laughed as he took it from them.

“Dude, seriously, put a shirt on before Mom goes crazy,” Monty said, grinning. I smacked him.

Lex pulled the shirt over his head. “No more mangoes?” he asked the boys. I guess he’d figured it out.

Jack laughed. “No more mangoes. We promise.”

The police were just hauling off Moe, taking the last few bits of Isaac’s statement. In the opposite corner, a red-faced Alan and worn-out Julie were being grilled by the network execs. I wondered how they’d got here so fast?

Ernie joined us, pressing cups of coffee into our hands. “They flew down yesterday to check the show out. Brought a whole team of accountants with them to investigate what was going on.”

“They find anything?” Isaac asked as he joined us.

Bert shrugged beside Ernie. “About one hundred grand used for all kinds of deviant behavior.”

Ernie nodded. “They even found receipts for an in-room donkey show.”

Ick. I didn’t even want to think about that.

“So what happens now with the contest?” I asked, thinking about Dr. Andy, Lex and Sami.

Both cameramen shook their heads. “It’s over. The accountants have locked up the prize money.”

“That’s not fair! You dragged us all here and after what we’ve gone through, you aren’t going to even award the prize money?”

Bert backed off. “Don’t blame us! We have nothing to do with it.”

“Will the show even air?” Lex asked.

“Afraid not. The attorneys are too afraid of litigation. No one will ever see this footage.” Then Bert and Ernie walked away.

I looked at Lex and Isaac. Well, this was fucked-up, as Sami would say if she were here.

“Look,” Lex said, “it doesn’t matter. Isaac got his man and I got you. It’s okay.”

While I was all choked up over Lex’s words, I was mad as hell about Sami. What did she get besides a bullet?

“Missi!”

That’s weird. I could swear I heard California Bombay
. Judging by the look on my sons’ faces, I guessed my mother was standing right behind me.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” I asked as I dragged her off to an empty corner. Monty and Jack were suddenly very busy studying their hangnails. Cowards.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner,” she said,
patting my arm. “I had no idea all of this drama was happening, and we were dealing with a slight cartel invasion.”

I didn’t even ask. In my family, this kind of thing happened. “Mom, you sent me here to tail a Vic.” I nodded toward Isaac. “A Vic who turned out to be an Interpol agent.”

Cali’s eyes grew wide. “Really? Well isn’t that exciting!”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “You didn’t know that? How could you not know that? And why would you send me after one of the good guys? It’s against Bombay policy!”

Mom shifted from one foot to the other. “Let’s go someplace where we can talk privately. I have a room on this floor.” Then she turned and walked away as if she knew I would follow.

I stopped and told Lex to meet me at the guesthouse later, then followed my mother to her room.

“So what was this really about?” I asked before the door fully closed.

“Well, dear, it was a setup.” Mom fiddled nervously with a bracelet. Upon closer inspection I realized it was one of my bracelets. Did she get rid of me so she could pilfer my closet?

“A setup? What does that mean?” My mood was darkening quickly, but I’d let her finish before I “accidentally” shoved her out her window.

“The whole thing was a ploy to get you out of your office, off the island and into a social setting.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Wouldn’t it have just been easier to sign me up for a speed-dating seminar or something?” My nails were digging into my palms.

My beloved (and soon to be dead) mother cocked her head to one side. “It was my idea. A way to force you into a situation where you couldn’t leave. I thought maybe you’d meet a man. And you did!” She clapped her hands with glee.

“You sent me on a bogus mission to kill an innocent man
just so you could force me to date?
Are you insane?”

Cali tut-tutted like I was a moron. “That’s why I sent the boys, dear. To make sure you didn’t kill Isaac.”

I’m such an idiot. My mom set me up on this nightmare and the boys were in on it from the beginning. How could she get two minors involved? The wrong guy could’ve died!

The room started to spin and make flashing, popping thingies. The last thing I remembered before I hit the floor was that my mom was wearing my most expensive pair of shoes.

I came to in the guesthouse, not really caring how I got there. I was just grateful that it wasn’t a jail cell or a room with my mother’s rotting corpse.

“You okay?” Lex’s face swam into view over mine.

“I think so. Physically at least. I’m not going to promise you anything on the mental right now.”

He kissed my forehead. “I’ll take that.”

I sat up and looked around. This was the room I shared with Sami. My stomach lurched.

“How’s Sami?”

“She’s just fine. It was a clean shot. She’s being re leased as we speak. Isaac is bringing her back here.”

“And my sons?” I asked, blood on my mind.

“They told me to tell you they were going home with your mom. She’s nice, by the way.”

“What? You met Mom?” Knowing Cali Bombay, she’d probably already proposed to Lex for me. And knowing my boys, they would be hiding on the ropes course on Santa Muerta for months waiting for me to
cool down. Bile started a perilous journey up my throat and I sat up to accommodate the fury. Actually, I was beginning to embrace the fury.

Lex pushed me back down. “You need to get some sleep.” He lay down next to me, holding me in his arms.

I leaned back against his chest. As much as I wanted to be part of the welcoming committee for Sami, sleep sounded like a good idea.

And it took very little time to fall into dreamland.

“Good morning, dumbass!” Sami stood in the doorway of my room, her right arm in a sling. She looked pale (which was remarkable, considering her deep tan) and thinner (which was scary, since she was thin to begin with). The superconfident-take-no-prisoners Sami was small and frail.

“Sami!” I got up to hug her, very gently. “Are you okay?”

She shrugged. “I can’t work for a couple of months, but at least I’m alive! Thank you.”

“Sami! You didn’t swear once!” I laughed.

“Well, maybe I’m turning over a goddamned new leaf!”

I hadn’t realized how late it was until I saw that Isaac and Lex were eating lunch on the veranda. Sami and I joined them, eating as if it were our last meal on earth.

What a mess I almost made out of things—screwing up with Lex, almost killing Isaac, almost losing Sami.
And yet I was so unbelievably angry at my mother and sons. That rage would have to be dealt with, and soon.

Isaac cleared his voice. “We’re going to have visitors this afternoon.”

I looked up, a forkful of salad en route to my open mouth. “Who?”

Lex answered. “The network. They called an hour ago to tell us.”

“What do those fucktards want?” Sami asked.

“My guess is that they want to give us bad news,” Isaac replied.

“Really?” I said once my mouth was empty. “How much worse could it get?”

Mr. Smith and Mr. Brown (if those were their real names) slid four sheets of watermarked, vellum paper toward us. Smith and Brown were attorneys for the CAB network. As they explained, we needed to sign legal documents absolving the network of liability for any wrongdoing. None of this was, of course, CAB’s fault and we should be grateful they allowed us out of the show.

I slid the forms back toward them. “Shove it up your ass,” I said politely.

Lex, Sami and Isaac said nothing. They had my back.

Mr. Smith (who wouldn’t tell me his first name—which pissed me off) slid them back to us. “Ms. Bombay,
you signed a release when the program commenced agreeing to what ever terms the corporation determines necessary.”

“Billy,” I replied, assigning him a random name since the bastard wouldn’t give me his, “we’re not signing anything. In fact, our attorney is on her way down from New York right now to look into suing your network for ten million dollars.”

“My name is not Billy,” Smith answered tensely.

“Since you wouldn’t give me your name, I made one up,” I said. “You didn’t have me sign anything saying I couldn’t do that, did you?” I waited as he nodded. “So, Billy, my attorney has reviewed the documents we signed and says we have a 99.7 percent chance of winning.”

All right, so I made that up too. I just wanted to watch them squirm. I didn’t have Mother or the boys to punish, so these two suits would have to do. In all honesty, the Bombays have the best law firm in the world representing them. I was pretty sure we could at least score twenty million if we tried.

Smith looked at Brown, whom I didn’t have a name for yet. Brown shrugged, which was good because I was thinking of calling him Seymour.

“What do you suggest, Ms. Bombay?” A vein on Smith’s neck twitched.

“I want you to award the twenty-five-thousand-dollar prize money to Ms. Sami Lee. I also insist that you pay her medical bills and pay full transportation home for her. Then I, Mr. Danby and Mr. Beckett will sign your forms.”

Smith’s eyebrows went up. “And Ms. Lee? She signs too, right?”

“Wrong. She doesn’t sign anything and you walk away hoping she doesn’t change her mind and come after the network.” I leaned back and crossed my arms. I had considered making them wrestle crocodiles too—without muzzles. But the others thought that might be a smidge over the top.
Sigh
.

Smith shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s unacceptable.”

I sighed because it looked dramatic and, using the remote, clicked on the TV. There, on the screen, was footage of Alan snorting cocaine off a donkey’s ass. In the corner of the screen was a little CAB logo. Alan then began to spill the dirty little secrets of seven of the twelve members of the network’s board of directors. Talk about sexually repressed. Ernie had given me the tape for free. I tipped him five grand for the favor.

Brown leaned forward, pushing forms toward only me, Lex and Isaac. “I think we have a deal, Ms. Bombay.”

The men returned with a check within the hour and the hospital confirmed that the bill had been paid. I let them have the tape. I had two more in my suitcase. A girl needs all the blackmail material she can get.