Part 19 (1/2)
The waitress winked. ”Mister, you keep tipping this good, and you can bite off whatever you like.”
As the woman turned away, Ryan looked out past her and spotted twin men dressed in the forest green of mall security as they stepped into the dimly lit bar.
Ryan couldn't quite make out their faces in the gauze-like texture of the air, which hung heavy with a mix of cheap cigarette and marijuana smoke. The sec men could be off duty, but Ryan doubted it. Something about their demeanor indicated they were alert, on the job and looking for an unlucky mall visitor or resident.
They paused at the head of the long pub bar. The bartender shrugged and pointed at the small table in the rear where Ryan and Doc were sitting. The pair of sec men turned and started making their way back at a deliberately measured pace. ”Fireblast,” Ryan hissed.
”What, pray tell, has happened now?” Doc asked, his head still on the sticky tabletop and nestled in the crook of his elbow. Doc's back was to the bar. He couldn't have seen the new arrivals. Ryan was surprised when his drinking companion had spoken. He believed Doc had finally pa.s.sed out from the limpness of his body and the slowed breathing pattern he entered into after consuming the contents of his final gla.s.s of whiskey.
Now Doc's eyes were half-open and staring at him, struggling to raise themselves from the alcoholic mire. Even in the midst of tying one on, Doc had caught the hint of anxiety in Ryan's muttered epithet. ”Company, Doc. Two Freedom sec men,” Ryan murmured. ”One of them is that Rollins guy we met outside. Keep stillI'll give you a signal in case there's trouble. They won't be expecting anything from an old drunk.”
”Hic,” Doc whispered, and winked in reply before closing his eyes and letting his upper body ooze into a pose of slack drunkenness once more.
Once the men got closer, Ryan could see there was a wide age difference between the two. Off his horse, Rollins was as tall as Ryan, with a similar posture and build. That's where the similarities ended. The sec leader was bald, but had compensated for the lack of hair on his scalp by growing a wide mustache. He carried a huge long blaster cradled in his arms, held in a nonthreatening fas.h.i.+on but still within easy reach and use.
The backup was a young punk that looked about twenty, but with a much larger frame than the leader's, and that was saying something since Rollins wasn't exactly tiny. His hair color was hidden under a riot helmet. His eyes were behind a pair of polarized sungla.s.ses. Tough guy. Or a weak, uncertain guy playing at being tough, reveling in the inhuman guise of a walking insect.
”Evening, Cawdor,” Rollins said.
Ryan turned to fully face him, while trying to keep his a.s.sociate framed in his peripheral vision. The younger of the two had apparently received some training, since he was using Ryan's eye patch as a blind side.
”You're up late tonight, Rollins.”
”A sec man never sleeps.”
”Who's the kid? He hanging out with you for extra credit in sec school or what?”
”It's a young man's world, Cawdor.”
”Isn't that the d.a.m.n truth. Tell your lapdog no insult intended,” Ryan replied. ”Well, unless you and your sidekick are here to apologize for those clowns who tried to jump me and my friends yesterday out on the road, I'm going to ask you to leave. You owe me a night's peace for my generosity.”
”What generosity is that?” the younger man asked, speaking for the first time.
”It talks, too?” Ryan retorted.
”He hasn't heard about Michaelson and Isaac.” Rollins said.
”You mean Mike and Ike. Yeah, I was going to chill them both with extreme prejudice, but since you came along and told me ridding the world of their sorry a.s.ses might be a problem since I was planning on coming here for a visit, I declined.”
”We've got your boy, Cawdor.” On those words, Ryan forgot the pretense of playing it cool. A hot flush of blood ran into his face and brain, feeding the impulse to kill Rollins right on the spot. Ryan was on his feet and over in the black man's face in an instant, his panga drawn up and out of the oiled sheath. As Ryan moved, so did Doc, who spun with his swordstick and placed the s.h.i.+ning blade right up against the crotch of the second mall security guard.
”No, son,” Doc said to the younger sec man, all pretense of snoozing off a drunk now lost to adrenaline and concern for Dean. ”Keep your hands up toward heaven and your blood pressure down toward h.e.l.l and maybe, just perhaps, I won't have to flick my wrist and turn you into a eunuch.”
”Aa what?” the hapless sec man replied.
”An unfortunate who has faced the blade and had his s.c.r.o.t.u.m removed, complete with contents,” Doc said, twisting the swordstick ever so slightly and increasing the pressure. ”Both contents.”
”Are you insane, Cawdor?” Rollins rasped, sweat popping out in tiny crystal beads on his forehead.
”When it comes to my boy, you're d.a.m.n right. I'm a f.u.c.king loon,” Ryan said. ”Now, elaborate. What do you mean by 'got'?”
”Exactly what I said. He's in lockup, along with the albino. They're printing and booking them both into the Wings even as we speak,” Rollins replied. ”And I suggest you put the blade down before you cut yourself.”
”I'd be more worried about me cutting you a new a.s.shole,” Ryan hissed. ”What are you talking about 'booking him in the Wings'?”
”Cop jargon. Means he's being processed and arrested. For our files. We like tracking repeat offenders. Get into too much trouble and you're no longer welcome in Freedom. He and his pasty white pal nearly blew the vid arcade apart in a knife fight that went bad. One customer is dead, another one wounded and the owner is furious.”
The one-eyed man reined himself in and took the knife away, stepping back and keeping his distance from Rollins. ”Dean all right?”
The man stared back angrily at Ryan. ”He's a d.a.m.n sight better than the boy he helped chill.”
Ryan poked a finger into Rollins's broad chest. ”Listen, my boy chills somebody, you can be d.a.m.n sure they were asking for it, and asking for it on bended knee. He's not a coldheart, and neither is Jak Lauren.”
The big sec man didn't looked impressed. ”Whatever. We don't really give a s.h.i.+t about the stiff. He was one of the repeat offenders I was telling you about earlier. Problem child, but his father had the jack to keep buying his way back into Freedom. Now he can use it to bury the boy's worthless a.s.s. Way I look at it, your kid did us a service. One less sc.u.mbag cluttering up the mall.”
”I'm glad for you my son's ended a teenage crime wave, really. One of you two guardians of Freedom going to take me to him?” Ryan asked.
Rollins smirked. ”All in good time. First tell your drinking buddy to let my sec man keep his nut sac.”
”Ease off, Doc,” Ryan said.
”See?” Doc told the young sec man in training as he sheathed the blade info the ebony stick. ”Safe to procreate another day.”
”What else, Rollins?”
”You have to make a detour. Morgan wants to see you before you can speak to your boy or Lauren.”
”What's your baron want with me?”
”He's not a barontold you that before. He just wants to talk, to deal, to offer. Yeah. If you impress Morgan, all this stink might just up and blow over like a bad dream.”
Chapter Nineteen.
Ryan sent Doc into the Freedom Center complex to tell Krysty, J.B. and Mildred about Dean and Jak, then walked with the two sec men to a boarded-over mall front. An old sign overhead identified the site as a former Spencer's Gifts. A single door with a sec keypad and a card slot was recessed into the solid front. Rollins slid an ID card into the slot, then punched in a quick seven-digit code.
”Go straight down the hallway until it ends, then go right. You'll pa.s.s a few doors on the trip. Don't bother trying them, they're locked. They're just back doors into some of the other mall stores anyway. Keep going until you come into a gla.s.sed-in waiting area. A guard will be waiting for you. He's got your description. Tell him you're Cawdor, and he'll send you through.”
”You're not coming?” Ryan asked. ”Surprised you'll let me in to see Morgan alone.”
”Frankly, Cawdor, I've got better things to do. This mall doesn't police itself. Besides, Morgan can take care of himself.”
”When do I get to see Dean?” Ryan asked.
Rollins sighed heavily. ”Haven't you been paying attention? You can talk with the boy after you've spoken with the boss.”
As Rollins turned to walk away, Ryan grabbed him by the upper bicep. The big man whirled and knocked off Ryan's grip with a snarl.