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JP/Collab from
@Xandrya,
@Gunther,
@wanderingwolf, and
@sail3695Rex Black is a character created by
@Psych0pomp
The biker chief rolled his eyes. “Seems like all you folk do is crawfish. Payback, is this really what you wanna go back to?”
“Lookit my face an’ ask me that agin’,” Abby retorted.
Rex eased himself into the line of fire. “No crawfish,” he gave his head a single shake. “Just insurance. You’ll have the real deal back in your hands tonight. I’ll lead you right to it.”
Root fixed this new problem with a skeptical eye. “Strand, why am I talking to this
fèifèi de pìgu liè kāi?”
“Because,” Rex grinned, “this baboon’s ass crack is gonna make it all right for you…more than that, I’m gonna make you and your business whole again.”
The biker cocked his pistol’s hammer. “Shiny. If I don’t get Hook, makin’ a hole in your brainpan’s gonna have to do.”
The First Mate lifted his hands. “Sure, you can do that. Take my life and the blood box gets checked. But I got a better proposition for you. After tonight you walk away with your product, and an upgrade on your pencil pusher? What say,” Rex offered, “we put the guns down and you hear me out?”
“So you figured out your pal Hook offed our money guy,” Root shrugged. “That supposed to impress me?”
Rex’s hands remained aloft. “No, but I got your ledgers… well,” he chuckled, “anything Khao Yai Five-Oh had in their sealed files.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Lots, but right now what’s important is you’ve got nine shadow companies running without anyone who can catch ‘em skimming. Not that it meant much, since your boy Lip let it happen to cover what he was pulling out right from under your nose.”
“I thought so,” Cottonmouth muttered.
Cal wagered that their little gambit had struck gold, from the ugly one's involuntary confirmation. Rex had always dubbed his flourish for words
je ne sais quoi, to which Strand had always replied:
'I got no godly inclin' what you're sayin'. Even now as he witnessed the man rise to the occasion, he both relished the sight and mourned the loss that it would mean to him and his.
“C-mouth,” Root cut a sharp glance his way before returning his eye to Rex. “So you got all this great information and you’re gonna make us whole again. How's that work, exactly?”
“Easy,” Rex replied. “You’re gonna swear me in.”
If he was looking to get sworn in... Even though Alana had never gotten around to sitting for a proper meet and greet with Rex, it went without question his departure would add more strain to an already low headcount.
“Excuse me for not bein’ born yesterday,” Root offered a derisive laugh, “but why in the hot place would I trust you or anything you’re sayin’?”
The First Mate lowered his hands. “Cuz I know all your little secrets…at least those you an’ Hafez paid good coin to have files sealed over. And in a minute,” he continued, “you’re gonna know mine. I’m gonna tell you a name…a name I’ll warrant you’ve heard before. ‘Scuse me while I step in.” He approached the biker chief, who responded by pressing the gun’s barrel against his skull. In the sudden hush, the First Mate whispered into Root’s ear. “Now,” he said as he stepped back, “I just gave you my life on a silver platter.”
The biker’s well trained poker face broke veneer for the slimmest of seconds. “You conjure I can check this out in two shakes?”
“That I do,” Rex nodded casually. “But be discreet when you do. The family gets wind of this…well…could get sorta messy.”
Root fell silent, lips pursed as he worked his jaw in thought. Then, without preamble, he lowered his gun. “Put ‘em down,” the Headhunters president ordered his faithful. “Saddle up.”
“Payback?” Nips asked as she and Cottonmouth removed hands from the girl’s shoulders, “you wanna come with us?”
Abby found ‘erself lookin’ inta Alana’s eyes. “Nah,” she didn’t turn ‘er head. “These’re muh people.”
Upon hearing Payback's pronouncement, the Sister moved beside the girl, contented eyes flashing at Nips. "Time to go," the Sister challenged. With a gentle hand on Abby's shoulder, she began guiding the battle-worn woman toward the ramp of the China Doll.
“Cottonmouth,” Root gestured toward Rex. “Give ‘im a ride.” His orders delivered, the gang leader turned his attention to Cal Strand. “I find out that any piece of what this rube says is
la shi, next time I come around won’t be enough nuns and kids in the ‘verse to stop our triggers.”
Fer a second time, Abby found ‘erself beholden to a gentle woman in an orange robe. She contemplated in that moment tha meanin’ of a touch an’ how much it might tell. Cottonmouth’s grip had been firm, tellin’ her who’s in charge. Nips was kinda like that, but jest a bit easier…she conjured it tah say “let’s just do this and be done.” But The Sister’s hand weren’t nothin’ like either of ‘em. It felt…kind. Sorta touch one pined tah feel when they’s on tha doorstep of home.
“Home,” escaped ‘er lips as The Sister’s hand showed ‘er tha way.
And so it was done, all without bloodshed, death, nor any of that heartache. Alana sighed in relief, watching Abby be brought back to where she belonged by none other than The Sister. Needless to say, they had suffered a loss, but not to the extent originally expected. The barrel of the weapon had been aiming down at the ground since the order was communicated, and she at last tucked it securely into her waistband once more. Alana would tend to Abby the moment the bikers were outta sight.
The Headhunters’ bikes all roared to life. As the others waited, Cottonmouth pulled forward, his machine rumbling as he came to collect Rex. “There’s my ride,” Rex offered a grin to Cal. “Still got a few question marks about how this’ll all play out, but I think I’m gonna become Root’s new best friend.”
"Rex," Strand chuckled despite himself, "You're one lucky son of a doxy; but then again thanks to you, so am I. If your luck don't hold, feel free to look me up. If mine does, I'll still be flyin'."
“Can we go now? While the beer’s cold?” Cottonmouth demanded.
“See?” Rex teased. “They’re playing my song already.” He sidled up closer to his captain. “Thanks for takin’ me back aboard, Cal. Not sure when, but I’ll see you down the road.”
"Is that a threat?" Cal's eyes twinkled as he pushed the brim of his hat to sit back on his head. "May the road rise," the Captain intoned as he shook his first mate's hand.
After a back slapping hug, the man known as Rex Black climbed onto the waiting sky cycle. “I’ll be back for my stuff!” he shouted above the revving engine. “And take care of Lucky!” He gave the biker a friendly pat on the shoulder. “What’d Root call you?” he asked as the cycle pulled away. “Sea-mouth? I’m Rex…sorta like ‘sex,’ but most folk say it’s closer to ‘wrecks…”
Cal shook his head as Rex Black rode away absolved of every sin for the first time he'd abandoned the China Doll. This time, that smug head of his was held high as he threw one last wave over his shoulder. Cal dipped his head in response before turning to the crew who had proved their mettle in a crisis, and to the bruised Abigail who had somehow earned a moniker among the clan of bikers and an invitation that did not sit well in the least.
"Payback?" was all he said to Abby before raising the com to his chin. "Hook, head on back. We're dust up in fifteen."
Ahead of him on the landing of the cargo bay ambled a small army of children much younger than Abigail, and at their head the Sister Badger had called in as reinforcement. A nun, dressed just like Marisol was. The way those bikers cleared off, Cal had half a mind to lump her under the same banner too, but, to be honest, the kids did give him pause.
As his last steps carried him to the top of the ramp, the Sister met him there with a resolute look in her eye, "Amituofo Captain Strand, I'm Lyen Giu. We need to talk."
<Fade to black.>
<Roll credits>
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