The Most Dangerous Dame

I turned, sweeping the Broad at the glowing figure that hovered in the doorway. The fairy wore Natasha’s face and spoke with her voice. A hulking brute followed her, some misshapen ogre who scanned the room with a feral expression.

“Stay back — or you’ll get the same as your pal here. I mean it.” My finger twitched on the trigger.

The fairy flooded the room with light as she approached, her hand cautiously extended. “Mick, it’s me. Natasha. Natasha and Benny. You remember us, don’t you? Mick?”

I squeezed my eyes shut with a groan. When I opened them, Natasha and Benny stood in front of me with concerned looks on their faces. The bullet-riddled corpse lay a few yards away, once again just a normal stiff. I scrubbed my face with my hand.

“Absinthe. Damn the stuff.”

Benny slowly slid his handgun back in his jacket holster. “What the hell, Mick? We heard you shout and then the gunfire started…”

“—and your first thought was to bring Natasha into the line of fire?” I shakily stood, still trying to get my bearings. “Smooth move, Ace.”

Benny’s expression darkened. “She jumped outta the ride before I could grab her, Mick. Look, I ain’t in the habit of watching dames. You want her in diapers, you better call a babysitter.”

“I don’t need you to look out for me, Mick.” Natasha’s face was set in that defiant expression dames get when they want to make their point. “Excuse me for being concerned about you.”

“That’s the point — you don’t need to be concerned about me.” My voice boomed in the near-empty house. “This is what I do, sweetheart. This is my job. And I can’t do it with your getaway sticks running in the direction of the gunfire, got it?”

Natasha flinched at my tone, but to her credit she didn’t crumple. “You’re the one who got me in this mess in the first place, Mick.” She placed her fists on her hips and let me have it. “You told me to come with you, remember? I could be at my apartment minding my own business.”

I threw up my arms. “That’s because you aren’t safe anywhere else. I don’t like it any more than you do. But you gotta do what I say or you’ll end up getting shredded by a stray slug before the day is out. Pipe that?”

“Look, I hate to interrupt a lover’s spat and all but… ” Benny took an uneasy glance around the room. “Who the hell were you shooting at, Mick? This bum’s been dead for days.”

Natasha eyes near bulged out of her face as she did a quick two-step away from the stiff. “That’s what the smell is? Who…who was he?”

“Hell if I know.” I gestured around. “This whole deal is gonzo. Look, I’m a bit outa sorts right now. Blame it on the booze. Stuff’s laced with nanomachines that reboot my healing system, only with hallucinogenic side effects. Not to mention a trip down memory lane with my old self downloaded into a synoid body. He’s not physically here, of course. He tricked out the stiff there with a microphone and camera ‘cause he’s scared stiff of my ex-girlfriend.”

“Uh… ok. Sorry we asked.” Benny glanced at me from the corner of his eyes. “You feeling all right? You look different for some reason.”

“Better, actually.” Natasha stepped closer and peered into my face. “You look like you got a good night’s sleep. And a decent meal.”

“I’m aces. Feeling great.” All the soreness had vanished from my muscles and I was sure if I lifted my shirt I’d see the recent gunshot wounds had faded as if months old. It was almost worth the acid trip into temporary insanity.

“So can we get the hell outta here, then? My uncle just buzzed again. Says you gotta come in.”

“I told you I’m not one of his soldatis, Benny. I’m doing important work here.”

“Important work like downing some booze and squeezing off on a mook who’s already dead?

“Touché. What’s Flacco got his panties all in a bunch over, anyhow?”

Benny winced at my disrespect. “Says he found something you’d like to see.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“A Secret Service agent.”

Chapter 14: The Easy Way Out

Moe Flacco was holed up in a ratty little warehouse not too far from Hunter’s place. The Docks were a regular stomping ground for Mafia executions, so just about every self-respecting Capo owned some real estate out there. We pulled up to a district nicknamed Grindhouse Alley on account of all the Mob interrogations that took place in its number of grimy, rusted out warehouses conveniently constructed right at the edge of the West River. Once the wetwork was done it was no problem to chuck the remains in stinking, black waters of the West.

No-Nose Nate admitted us inside one of Flacco’s grisly estates. His candy apple red pinstriped suit was tempered only by the black shirt and Trilby hat that sat cocked on his narrow head. He greeted me with a smirk. “Mick. Word on the streets is you’d been zotzed.”

“I was. But I got over it.”

He snorted, turning his attention to Benny. “Still alive, kid? I thought you might be pushing daisies by now. Either that or drooling in your sleep somewhere.”

Benny’s face turned crimson. “I’m on the job, Nicky.”