{"id":2367,"date":"2022-04-09T14:06:47","date_gmt":"2022-04-09T21:06:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2367"},"modified":"2022-06-14T11:33:04","modified_gmt":"2022-06-14T18:33:04","slug":"are-you-my-client","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2022\/04\/09\/are-you-my-client\/","title":{"rendered":"Are You My Client?"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Set your story in the lowest rated restaurant in town.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The tall, pale woman dressed in black riding leathers parked her hog behind the small, grey, brick building and locked her helmet to the saddle. A casual stroll around the building, her booted steps quieter than what would be expected, assured her that she was alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She entered Frank\u2019s Diner, ignoring the Health Department scorecard that listed it as \u201cNeeds Improvement,\u201d one grade above being closed down. She made her way to her usual table in the back corner, where the lights didn\u2019t seem to reach. The floors were sticky and stained, the chairs long past their usable date.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She sat down, her leathers creaking as she did, and checked her watch; three minutes to two. When the waitress started towards her, she waved her off and pointed to her watch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The front door creaked, and a short, self-assured man in an expensive suit stepped in. The waitress greeted him and pointed to the table where she waited.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He approached her table and stopped. \u201cWhat a shithole. I take it you\u2019re the ghost?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSit.\u201d Her voice was commanding without being harsh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He sat opposite her, and she watched him trying to maintain his cool composure in the chair with one leg slightly shorter than the other three. \u201cWhat should I call you?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGhost is enough,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy are we here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a shithole dive. No one\u2019s going to be looking for you here.\u201d Raising her voice, she called out, \u201cMarlene, sweetie, two of my usual, please.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The waitress answered back from the pass-through window, \u201cRight away, hun.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She pulled a small device out of her pocket and held it as she walked around him slowly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLooking for wires? I\u2019m clean.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Satisfied, she returned to her chair and sat. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you tell me what you need and when, and I\u2019ll tell you if it\u2019s possible.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The man had shifted such that the chair was stable beneath him. He crossed his legs and laid his hands on his lap. \u201cI need some security at the docks, Thursday night. Two hours, sixty-thousand dollars.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat are you securing?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They fell silent as Marlene approached and set a to-go cardboard box in front of each of them. The boxes each contained a grilled cheese sandwich, a bag of off-brand barbecue chips, and a can of off-brand cola. The woman dug into hers as she waited for the man\u2019s response.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll be liberating a shipment from a container before it goes through customs inspection.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow big is this shipment?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy does that matter?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She set down her sandwich and picked up a chip, waving her hand to make it disappear and reappear. \u201cSmall things are easy to screen.\u201d She popped the chip in her mouth, continuing to talk while she chewed. \u201cBigger things,\u201d she picked up the can of cola, \u201ctake more preparation\u2026bigger teams.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m not at liberty to say in exact terms, but it fits in the trunk of a car. Two-man team, in and out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSixty grand, now, and I save your sorry ass.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat makes you think\u2014?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat I\u2019ll need to save your ass? I\u2019m about to do that now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His eyes took on a predatory glare. \u201cWho do you think you\u2019re dealing with?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re Don Marco\u2019s man. Antony, right? And you\u2019re getting ready to steal a pair of lead-lined, hard-sided cases marked as sensitive scientific equipment.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The man\u2019s surprise showed only for the briefest moment before he composed himself. \u201cYou seem to have me at a disadvantage.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFirst, whatever you think is in those cases is wrong. The person that opens one of those cases without proper precautions is going to die a slow, painful death.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He snorted a derisive laugh. \u201cTrying to scare us off the di\u2014uh\u2026package, isn\u2019t going to work.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSecond, let\u2019s say you show up on Thursday night and manage to get the cases. By sunrise Friday, the war you started will be in full swing. Monday morning, when the smoke clears, Don Marco will be begging for death, the Marino family will be history, and the rightful owner of those cases will be auctioning off the east side to the highest bidder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis is me saving your ass. Go home. Forget about it. There are no diamonds, just death.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo you say.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIsn\u2019t it odd that Don Marco is looking for help outside the family? Does he not trust his own people enough for this?\u201d She shook her head. \u201cNo, he wants to limit the number of people who know, because he knows it would turn into a bloodbath if anyone so much as lets out a peep. So, it\u2019s him, you, the two-man team and maybe a driver. Even then, you don\u2019t know everything he does, and I\u2019d guess the team knows even less.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho is it?\u201d he asked. \u201cThe Russians? The Irish? Some punk street gang? We\u2019re not afraid of any of them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAll I\u2019ll tell you is that you don\u2019t want to cross them,\u201d she said. \u201cThey\u2019re a client. The only way I remain a free agent and continue to get jobs is that I don\u2019t tell my clients\u2019 business to anyone else.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI see. Then I guess I\u2019ll need to look elsewhere.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019ll be sixty thousand,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you my client? Or do I go to my other client and tell them Don Marco is sniffing around their property?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His pleasant smile dropped, and he pulled a pistol from inside his jacket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She felt an electric jolt of adrenaline and her legs tensed in reflex, ready for action. She took a calming breath and met his steel gaze with her own. \u201cAre you my client?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou just made the wrong enemy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAntony,\u201d she said, forcing herself to relax and spread her arms out, making sure he saw that Marlene and the cook were staring at them, \u201cyou\u2019re not going to shoot me here, in the middle of the day. If you were one of the street rats or goons, I\u2019d be worried. You\u2019re too smart for that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re right. But I know what you look like now, and the family will be looking for you to shut you up within the hour. I\u2019m gonna\u2019 save your<\/em> ass now. Run while you can, bitch.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She leaned forward and spoke in a soft voice, \u201cFrom whom? You\u2019re already dead, you just don\u2019t know it yet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t scare me, bitch.\u201d He put the pistol away and left the diner. She waited for the sound of his car starting and driving away before she pulled out her cell phone and flipped it open.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cChecking in,\u201d she said, when the phone was answered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHello, Ghost. Are the packages safe?\u201d the voice asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She dropped two twenty-dollar bills on the table and waved to Marlene on her way out. \u201cYeah, still safe. Somebody\u2019s interested, though.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd this somebody tried to hire you. Will you let us know who it is, or are they your client?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once out the door, she headed the long way around the diner to her bike parked in the back. \u201cIf they were my client I wouldn\u2019t have needed to call, because they would\u2019ve gone home and forgotten about it like a good boy. Don Marco sent Antony looking for outside security to grab the packages from the docks\u2026Thursday night. I\u2019d bet most of the Marino family are in the dark, though, or he would\u2019ve used his own people. Oh! They\u2019ve got the diamonds story, if that tells you where the leak is.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cInteresting, it does.\u201d There was a moment of silence, followed by the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. \u201cWhen we catch Don Marco\u2019s boys with the packages, we\u2019ll get the information we need to shut them down for good. You might want to stay clear of Marino territory for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She reached her bike. \u201cI\u2019ll be staying clear for a while anyway. Antony just put a price on my head.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou need anything from us?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNah, they\u2019re amateurs and I\u2019ll see \u2019em coming. The courier dropped the first package last night. It\u2019s at the warehouse. The other two land tomorrow and hit customs on Friday.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI suppose you\u2019re due a bonus for the heads-up, and for exposing the mole. What would you consider a fair price?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll leave that to you, but could you have your guys pick up the package soon? It\u2019s giving me the creeps. Why do you deal in that shit, anyways?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a form of currency in my business. I\u2019ll make sure to leave you out of any future payment deliveries, especially on such short notice. Someone will be by within the hour to pick it up. Call me for the challenge and code word when they get there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThanks. And let me when it\u2019s safe to go back out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWill do, Ghost. And if you decide to leave consulting for a full-time position, my head of security position just<\/em> opened up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, you know me\u2026free spirit and all.\u201d She put her phone away, straddled the bike, and pulled on her helmet. The bike started with a rumble, and she eased out of the alley, turning west on the road fronting the diner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She wasn\u2019t about to go to work for any<\/em> client full-time\u2026especially<\/em> this one. Things like the package currently sitting in her warehouse would probably happen all too often. \u201cCurrency\u201d or not, lead-lined case notwithstanding, she wasn\u2019t happy about having radioactive materials in her home.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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