Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction ❯ Black Knights, Steel Hearts ❯ Chapter 11
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
**************************************************
The Bubble Gum Crisis OVA's (which this story is based on) are copyrighted by
Artmic Inc. and Youmex, Inc. I am just borrowing the characters for a little
while for non-monetary reasons. I can be contacted at the Email address above.
Serious C&C will be accepted, out-and-out flames will result in a Boomer
or two being sent after you, once they get around to building them.
Please, enjoy my take on the Bubble Gum Crisis universe . . .
*************************************************
Chapter 11
Warehouse #41526584
Yokohama District
Saturday, December 22, 2035
1:14am
"Where the hell have you been?" shouted Marcus Jackson when Knight One dropped easily from the skylight to the floor of the warehouse.
Despite the lateness of the hour, the warehouse was ablaze with lights. Technicians were supervising a couple of Knights into their hardsuits. Several other Knights were already suited up, and ready for action. There was a somewhat controlled chaos in effect, and Greg was pleased to see that everything was running well.
He raised the visor of his Knight One hardsuit, and gave Marcus a hard stare. "We've got trouble."
"Tell me about it!" Marcus was furious. He was still in street clothes, not wanting to waste the time to suit up unless he had to. "We lost three of our street operatives in the last two hours. Hit teams nailed them, plus anyone standing too close to them at the time."
"I thought as much."
"What the hell is that suppose to mean?"
"I help take out the fourth hit team over in District Six less then an hour ago."
"Did they get our man?"
Greg removed the helmet. "No. Fargo got two of them, his contact with the Knight Sabers got one, and I took out the Boomer leader."
"The team leader was a Boomer?"
Greg nodded. "And I'll bet that the other hit teams are also led by Boomers."
"No bet. What do we do now?"
"Call the rest of our operatives, and tell them to lay low for twelve hours. If they need someplace to hide, tell them to come to MALCORP headquarters."
"Aren't we risking our own people by shielding them?"
"They are our own people, even if they are freelancers. I don't leave my people to twist in the wind, you know that."
"I know that. But I'm convinced that the bad guys want us to do something like that. Aren't we putting all our eggs into one basket?"
"I'll be surprised if any of them accept the offer. These are people of the street, Marcus. They see what's happening, and I'll bet that each of them has a bolthole in case of trouble." Greg strode over to a table sitting near the office. "Anything new on Janie?"
"No. And having to pull in our people isn't going to help."
"What's the status on the Rattlesnakes?"
"They're enroute. ETA thirty minutes. Figure another thirty to get them in here, armed and ready for combat."
Greg nodded. "Where's Leon and Jeena?"
"Jeena's at MALCORP HQ. Leon's running down a possible lead."
"Call them in also. I want them here before two-thirty."
"Here? Is that smart?"
"Both Leon and Jeena know this city, and both know how to fight Boomers. And I'm sure Leon knows more about the Knight Sabers then he's let on."
Marcus's face showed doubt. "We're clutching at straws here, aren't we?"
"We're running out of time. Janie becomes a liability once she's told them everything. The fact they're coming after our people means that they don't have the complete plans for the shield yet." He looked at the map tacked to the top of the table. "When you contact our people, I want everything they collected on this job - facts, rumors, gossip, hearsay, or anything else. They might be a lead in there somewhere."
"A weak hope, Greg."
"I know," replied Greg, not looking up from the map. "But it's the only one we have right now."
**********
Ri-san Bar
District 6
Saturday, December 22, 2035
1:24am
The first thing that struck Leon was the smell of stale beer, followed by the stench of unwashed bodies. He fought the natural instinct to wrinkle his nose in disgust, and scanned the room for Skeeter.
He spotted his man at a back table, sitting alone and watching the people around him with more then detached interest. The bar was filled with people, mostly locals who eaked out a living doing jobs that were too cheap for Boomers to do. A few had the hard look of gang members, while of couple of others looked as if they were Yakuza. The few looks he got were cold and very unfriendly.
He ignored the stares, and started through the throng towards Skeeter. Besides a few sharp elbows to the ribs and arms, he made it through in one piece. Once clear of the mass, he found himself standing a meter away from Skeeter's table.
Skeeter Karns was a giant, well over two meters tall, and heavily muscled. The gray T-shirt and bluejeans made him look like a bouncer, rather then the head of the local gangs. His hair was cut close to the skull, his skin the color of old hickory, while his features were thick and brooding, making him look like an imbecile. But his dark green eyes showed more then simple intelligence.
"Leon," he said quietly, despite the noise.
Leon sat down across from him. "How's it going?"
The giant shrugged. "About as well as can be expected these days."
"I need some information."
"I don't give out information on my people, Inspector."
Leon shook his head. "Not your people. I need information on who kidnapped a fourteen-year-old from her home in the United States and brought her here."
A thick eyebrow went up. "Since when did ADP get involved in the Janie VanDell case?"
"They're not. I'm doing some freelance work for MALCORP."
"Be careful Leon. MALCORP has lost several of their street people in the last several hours, and I don't mean simple misplacement. Someone's headhunting, and MALCORP's people are the heads they're hunting."
Leon nodded. "Thanks for the warning, Skeeter. What's the word on the street?"
The giant closed his eyes. "Whoever it is, it's not GENOM. Word is Quincy's ordered an internal investigation of their own people to make sure it's not a rouge operation. There's a lot of coded traffic between GENOM Tower and the other GENOM locations, asking for reports on lost or destroyed Boomers for the last several years. One of Quincy's new Special Assistants, a gentleman by the name of Faust, is handling the case."
"What about the other Megacorps?"
"Nothing obvious. What's the interest in a fourteen-year-old?"
Leon sighed. "Promise this goes no further?"
Skeeter nodded. "MALCORP's people on the street had no idea why Janie was taken."
Leon filled Skeeter in quickly, starting with the girl's kidnapping. The giant nodded slowly, listening quietly to the report. When Leon had finished, Skeeter made a fist and stared at the table, deciding if it was worth the effort to smash. After several seconds, the huge fist relaxed into an open hand.
"You're telling me the truth?" he asked slowly. "That child was kidnapped and brought here to retrieve plans for a lousy piece of equipment?"
"I am." Leon held up a hand. "Look, I know how you feel about kids. Everyone who lives down here knows who was behind that new wing for the orphanage. Whoever took her doesn't share you concern for kids."
Skeeter nodded, his face looking like a thundercloud. "I don't like people like that."
"I know. I also know that whoever took her is going to need a certain type of specialist to retrieve that data. That's why I came to you. I need to know if anyone has recently come into town, and who hired them."
"The best interrogation specialist in the city right now is a Doctor Yin Zin-Choon," Skeeter said in a cold hard voice. "He came into the city late last week. I heard that the Japan branch of Gulf and Bradley hired him."
"Who's the current G and B Japan head?"
"Carlton Bradley. He's ruthless enough to behind something like this. His sister Cora is a borderline psychotic. Together, they're serious trouble." He was silent for a minute, then leaned forward. He said in a low voice, "Word is they've been gearing up for a shadow war against Quincy and GENOM without the G and B Board of Directors' blessing. If they wanted an ace in the hole, a force of Boomers with a force shield is one heck of an Ace."
"Makes sense. Too much damn sense." Leon stood. "Thanks Skeeter, I owe you one."
Skeeter glared at him. "If you nail the slug who's behind this, I'll considered us even."
**********
Outside Niko's Pool Hall
District 6
Saturday, December 22, 2035
1:58am
Daley Wong got out of the police car slowly, feeling the effects of only six hours sleep in the last thirty-six. I hate this job.
The area surrounding him was alive with police, fire, and rescue personnel. Something covered with a sheet lay in the middle of the street. From the shape outlined under the bright yellow plastic, Daley knew it was a body. On the far side of the street, firefighters were in the process of putting the last glowing embers of a large fire that had consumed most of the first floor of an abandoned building.
He tried to stifle a yawn, failed, and looked around for the senior detective. He spotted the man talking to a small group of N-policemen near the shattered door of a poolhall. He strode over causally and waited until the discussion broke up.
"OK, Rubin," said Daley, not bothering to stifle another yawn. "What have you got that so important that you interrupt my beauty sleep?"
Lieutenant Rubin Mindoro was a short, compact man with deeply tanned skin, sharp features, and an annoying cheerfulness that grated on Daley's nerves most of this time. When he turned and smiled at Daley, the ADP inspector felt his temples start to throb.
"You'll like this, Daley," he said optimistically. "It's right up ADP's alley too."
"What have you got?"
"Three bodies, all male. Two inside Niko's poolhall here." He motioned to the shattered door near where he was standing, then pointed to the sheet covered body out in the street. "And one there. All three known thugs, all three carrying serious firepower, and all three as dead as my hopes of dating Vision."
"So?"
He motioned to the burnt out doorway across the street. "We have a fourth set of remains scattered across the street over there. The remains are not human."
"Boomer?"
Rubin nodded gleefully. "You got it. There's not much left of it, but it looks like it was a C-Class, armed like the other three."
"But Boomers don't usually explode unless they have help."
"This one had help, in the shape of a compact missile with a armor piercing warhead."
"Oh?"
"And none of the other bodies happen to have a rocket launcher lying around when we found them."
"Looks like they were on the loosing side."
"I can see why they promoted you, Daley. Nothing escape your eagle eyes."
"Can the good cheer, Rubin," growled Daley. "What do you have on the winners?"
"Less then we have on the losers. We know there was more then one, They are better then average shots, and they have a rocket launcher. That's about it." Rubin thought for a moment, then said, "We had some early reports of a Boomer, or someone in a hardsuit, heading west via the rooftop. We tried tracking down something more solid, but no dice. Our boy disappeared like a ghost in the rooftops."
"What do the people in the poolhall say?"
"According to the owner, he closed up at ten o'clock. He has no idea what happened."
"Of course, you don't believe him."
"Of course not. But he's not going to give us anything unless we beat it out of him."
A low buzz interrupted the conversation. Rubin reached for his phone, pulled it out and said, "Mindoro here. It's your dime."
He listened for several minutes, giving Daley the opportunity to walk over and look inside the pool hall. The place was a shambles, the result of what look like a small war. Several of the pool tables were torn apart by bullets, as well as most of the lamps and mirrors. A pair of plastic sheets covered the forms of the two victims, or rather the losers.
"Daley!" shouted Rubin. "We got more problems!"
"What?"
"This wasn't the only attack tonight." Rubin had lost his cheerfulness. "There were three other attacks, and there were more successful then this one was. MO was the same - two man hit team, with a two man backup. Time to go down about the same time, too."
"Who were the victims?"
"A trio of freelancers, plus maybe another dozen people who were at the wrong place at the wrong time. These guys weren't too careful about who was near their target. But their victims didn't go quietly - the morgue has a couple of extra stiffs who made the same mistakes these boys made."
"Any idea who the freelancers were working for?"
Rubin shook his head. "But there's been rumblings on the street involving some big name corps."
"Damn. If this is a Corpwar, we're way out of our league. What ever happen to the easy cases?"
"Disappeared about the same time as the Dodo bird." Rubin managed to look more cheerful. "I'll send the Boomer pieces over to the ADP lab for the technerds to sift through."
"Thanks. I'll put two ADP Tac teams on standby in case our friends go for a second round."
"I'm not as worried about the hit teams as I am about the winners of this fight. You don't find people carrying around rocket launchers everyday."
Daley looked at him. "Unless they're a Boomer, or a person in a hardsuit."
"Our ghost?"
The redhead shrugged. "Seems like it. Hell of a coincidence if your rooftop ghost had nothing to do with this."
"Maybe the Knight Sabers were here."
"I don't think so." Daley ticked off his points finger by finger. "First, the Knight Sabers work as a team - they don't do solo work. Second, they don't make it a habit of carrying rocket launchers. Third, Knight Sabers don't go around killing people, even these lowlives."
Rubin nodded. "And fourth, the Knight Sabers don't use weapons that need nine and ten millimeter pistol rounds."
Daley arched an eyebrow. "You're a sadistic bastard, Rubin. You know the Knight Sabers weren't behind this."
Rubin grinned. "But it's nice having my opinions backed up by an senior ADP official. Makes my job easier."
Daley sighed. "Anything else?"
"Nope. You better get those Tac teams ready to roll. I think this was only round one of what could be a real nasty slugging match."
"And were stuck in the middle. Wonderful."
"Come on Daley, this is what they're paying you and Leon the big bucks for."
"In that case, I want a raise."
Rubin laughed. "That's the sprit. Speaking of which, where is your partner?"
"On vacation."
"Pick a hell of a time to take it."
"You're telling me." Daley turned and walked away. "I'd better get going before round two gets underway."
As he climbed back into his car, Daley had only one thought. Damn it Leon! Where the Hell are you?
**********
The Bubble Gum Crisis OVA's (which this story is based on) are copyrighted by
Artmic Inc. and Youmex, Inc. I am just borrowing the characters for a little
while for non-monetary reasons. I can be contacted at the Email address above.
Serious C&C will be accepted, out-and-out flames will result in a Boomer
or two being sent after you, once they get around to building them.
Please, enjoy my take on the Bubble Gum Crisis universe . . .
*************************************************
Chapter 11
Warehouse #41526584
Yokohama District
Saturday, December 22, 2035
1:14am
"Where the hell have you been?" shouted Marcus Jackson when Knight One dropped easily from the skylight to the floor of the warehouse.
Despite the lateness of the hour, the warehouse was ablaze with lights. Technicians were supervising a couple of Knights into their hardsuits. Several other Knights were already suited up, and ready for action. There was a somewhat controlled chaos in effect, and Greg was pleased to see that everything was running well.
He raised the visor of his Knight One hardsuit, and gave Marcus a hard stare. "We've got trouble."
"Tell me about it!" Marcus was furious. He was still in street clothes, not wanting to waste the time to suit up unless he had to. "We lost three of our street operatives in the last two hours. Hit teams nailed them, plus anyone standing too close to them at the time."
"I thought as much."
"What the hell is that suppose to mean?"
"I help take out the fourth hit team over in District Six less then an hour ago."
"Did they get our man?"
Greg removed the helmet. "No. Fargo got two of them, his contact with the Knight Sabers got one, and I took out the Boomer leader."
"The team leader was a Boomer?"
Greg nodded. "And I'll bet that the other hit teams are also led by Boomers."
"No bet. What do we do now?"
"Call the rest of our operatives, and tell them to lay low for twelve hours. If they need someplace to hide, tell them to come to MALCORP headquarters."
"Aren't we risking our own people by shielding them?"
"They are our own people, even if they are freelancers. I don't leave my people to twist in the wind, you know that."
"I know that. But I'm convinced that the bad guys want us to do something like that. Aren't we putting all our eggs into one basket?"
"I'll be surprised if any of them accept the offer. These are people of the street, Marcus. They see what's happening, and I'll bet that each of them has a bolthole in case of trouble." Greg strode over to a table sitting near the office. "Anything new on Janie?"
"No. And having to pull in our people isn't going to help."
"What's the status on the Rattlesnakes?"
"They're enroute. ETA thirty minutes. Figure another thirty to get them in here, armed and ready for combat."
Greg nodded. "Where's Leon and Jeena?"
"Jeena's at MALCORP HQ. Leon's running down a possible lead."
"Call them in also. I want them here before two-thirty."
"Here? Is that smart?"
"Both Leon and Jeena know this city, and both know how to fight Boomers. And I'm sure Leon knows more about the Knight Sabers then he's let on."
Marcus's face showed doubt. "We're clutching at straws here, aren't we?"
"We're running out of time. Janie becomes a liability once she's told them everything. The fact they're coming after our people means that they don't have the complete plans for the shield yet." He looked at the map tacked to the top of the table. "When you contact our people, I want everything they collected on this job - facts, rumors, gossip, hearsay, or anything else. They might be a lead in there somewhere."
"A weak hope, Greg."
"I know," replied Greg, not looking up from the map. "But it's the only one we have right now."
**********
Ri-san Bar
District 6
Saturday, December 22, 2035
1:24am
The first thing that struck Leon was the smell of stale beer, followed by the stench of unwashed bodies. He fought the natural instinct to wrinkle his nose in disgust, and scanned the room for Skeeter.
He spotted his man at a back table, sitting alone and watching the people around him with more then detached interest. The bar was filled with people, mostly locals who eaked out a living doing jobs that were too cheap for Boomers to do. A few had the hard look of gang members, while of couple of others looked as if they were Yakuza. The few looks he got were cold and very unfriendly.
He ignored the stares, and started through the throng towards Skeeter. Besides a few sharp elbows to the ribs and arms, he made it through in one piece. Once clear of the mass, he found himself standing a meter away from Skeeter's table.
Skeeter Karns was a giant, well over two meters tall, and heavily muscled. The gray T-shirt and bluejeans made him look like a bouncer, rather then the head of the local gangs. His hair was cut close to the skull, his skin the color of old hickory, while his features were thick and brooding, making him look like an imbecile. But his dark green eyes showed more then simple intelligence.
"Leon," he said quietly, despite the noise.
Leon sat down across from him. "How's it going?"
The giant shrugged. "About as well as can be expected these days."
"I need some information."
"I don't give out information on my people, Inspector."
Leon shook his head. "Not your people. I need information on who kidnapped a fourteen-year-old from her home in the United States and brought her here."
A thick eyebrow went up. "Since when did ADP get involved in the Janie VanDell case?"
"They're not. I'm doing some freelance work for MALCORP."
"Be careful Leon. MALCORP has lost several of their street people in the last several hours, and I don't mean simple misplacement. Someone's headhunting, and MALCORP's people are the heads they're hunting."
Leon nodded. "Thanks for the warning, Skeeter. What's the word on the street?"
The giant closed his eyes. "Whoever it is, it's not GENOM. Word is Quincy's ordered an internal investigation of their own people to make sure it's not a rouge operation. There's a lot of coded traffic between GENOM Tower and the other GENOM locations, asking for reports on lost or destroyed Boomers for the last several years. One of Quincy's new Special Assistants, a gentleman by the name of Faust, is handling the case."
"What about the other Megacorps?"
"Nothing obvious. What's the interest in a fourteen-year-old?"
Leon sighed. "Promise this goes no further?"
Skeeter nodded. "MALCORP's people on the street had no idea why Janie was taken."
Leon filled Skeeter in quickly, starting with the girl's kidnapping. The giant nodded slowly, listening quietly to the report. When Leon had finished, Skeeter made a fist and stared at the table, deciding if it was worth the effort to smash. After several seconds, the huge fist relaxed into an open hand.
"You're telling me the truth?" he asked slowly. "That child was kidnapped and brought here to retrieve plans for a lousy piece of equipment?"
"I am." Leon held up a hand. "Look, I know how you feel about kids. Everyone who lives down here knows who was behind that new wing for the orphanage. Whoever took her doesn't share you concern for kids."
Skeeter nodded, his face looking like a thundercloud. "I don't like people like that."
"I know. I also know that whoever took her is going to need a certain type of specialist to retrieve that data. That's why I came to you. I need to know if anyone has recently come into town, and who hired them."
"The best interrogation specialist in the city right now is a Doctor Yin Zin-Choon," Skeeter said in a cold hard voice. "He came into the city late last week. I heard that the Japan branch of Gulf and Bradley hired him."
"Who's the current G and B Japan head?"
"Carlton Bradley. He's ruthless enough to behind something like this. His sister Cora is a borderline psychotic. Together, they're serious trouble." He was silent for a minute, then leaned forward. He said in a low voice, "Word is they've been gearing up for a shadow war against Quincy and GENOM without the G and B Board of Directors' blessing. If they wanted an ace in the hole, a force of Boomers with a force shield is one heck of an Ace."
"Makes sense. Too much damn sense." Leon stood. "Thanks Skeeter, I owe you one."
Skeeter glared at him. "If you nail the slug who's behind this, I'll considered us even."
**********
Outside Niko's Pool Hall
District 6
Saturday, December 22, 2035
1:58am
Daley Wong got out of the police car slowly, feeling the effects of only six hours sleep in the last thirty-six. I hate this job.
The area surrounding him was alive with police, fire, and rescue personnel. Something covered with a sheet lay in the middle of the street. From the shape outlined under the bright yellow plastic, Daley knew it was a body. On the far side of the street, firefighters were in the process of putting the last glowing embers of a large fire that had consumed most of the first floor of an abandoned building.
He tried to stifle a yawn, failed, and looked around for the senior detective. He spotted the man talking to a small group of N-policemen near the shattered door of a poolhall. He strode over causally and waited until the discussion broke up.
"OK, Rubin," said Daley, not bothering to stifle another yawn. "What have you got that so important that you interrupt my beauty sleep?"
Lieutenant Rubin Mindoro was a short, compact man with deeply tanned skin, sharp features, and an annoying cheerfulness that grated on Daley's nerves most of this time. When he turned and smiled at Daley, the ADP inspector felt his temples start to throb.
"You'll like this, Daley," he said optimistically. "It's right up ADP's alley too."
"What have you got?"
"Three bodies, all male. Two inside Niko's poolhall here." He motioned to the shattered door near where he was standing, then pointed to the sheet covered body out in the street. "And one there. All three known thugs, all three carrying serious firepower, and all three as dead as my hopes of dating Vision."
"So?"
He motioned to the burnt out doorway across the street. "We have a fourth set of remains scattered across the street over there. The remains are not human."
"Boomer?"
Rubin nodded gleefully. "You got it. There's not much left of it, but it looks like it was a C-Class, armed like the other three."
"But Boomers don't usually explode unless they have help."
"This one had help, in the shape of a compact missile with a armor piercing warhead."
"Oh?"
"And none of the other bodies happen to have a rocket launcher lying around when we found them."
"Looks like they were on the loosing side."
"I can see why they promoted you, Daley. Nothing escape your eagle eyes."
"Can the good cheer, Rubin," growled Daley. "What do you have on the winners?"
"Less then we have on the losers. We know there was more then one, They are better then average shots, and they have a rocket launcher. That's about it." Rubin thought for a moment, then said, "We had some early reports of a Boomer, or someone in a hardsuit, heading west via the rooftop. We tried tracking down something more solid, but no dice. Our boy disappeared like a ghost in the rooftops."
"What do the people in the poolhall say?"
"According to the owner, he closed up at ten o'clock. He has no idea what happened."
"Of course, you don't believe him."
"Of course not. But he's not going to give us anything unless we beat it out of him."
A low buzz interrupted the conversation. Rubin reached for his phone, pulled it out and said, "Mindoro here. It's your dime."
He listened for several minutes, giving Daley the opportunity to walk over and look inside the pool hall. The place was a shambles, the result of what look like a small war. Several of the pool tables were torn apart by bullets, as well as most of the lamps and mirrors. A pair of plastic sheets covered the forms of the two victims, or rather the losers.
"Daley!" shouted Rubin. "We got more problems!"
"What?"
"This wasn't the only attack tonight." Rubin had lost his cheerfulness. "There were three other attacks, and there were more successful then this one was. MO was the same - two man hit team, with a two man backup. Time to go down about the same time, too."
"Who were the victims?"
"A trio of freelancers, plus maybe another dozen people who were at the wrong place at the wrong time. These guys weren't too careful about who was near their target. But their victims didn't go quietly - the morgue has a couple of extra stiffs who made the same mistakes these boys made."
"Any idea who the freelancers were working for?"
Rubin shook his head. "But there's been rumblings on the street involving some big name corps."
"Damn. If this is a Corpwar, we're way out of our league. What ever happen to the easy cases?"
"Disappeared about the same time as the Dodo bird." Rubin managed to look more cheerful. "I'll send the Boomer pieces over to the ADP lab for the technerds to sift through."
"Thanks. I'll put two ADP Tac teams on standby in case our friends go for a second round."
"I'm not as worried about the hit teams as I am about the winners of this fight. You don't find people carrying around rocket launchers everyday."
Daley looked at him. "Unless they're a Boomer, or a person in a hardsuit."
"Our ghost?"
The redhead shrugged. "Seems like it. Hell of a coincidence if your rooftop ghost had nothing to do with this."
"Maybe the Knight Sabers were here."
"I don't think so." Daley ticked off his points finger by finger. "First, the Knight Sabers work as a team - they don't do solo work. Second, they don't make it a habit of carrying rocket launchers. Third, Knight Sabers don't go around killing people, even these lowlives."
Rubin nodded. "And fourth, the Knight Sabers don't use weapons that need nine and ten millimeter pistol rounds."
Daley arched an eyebrow. "You're a sadistic bastard, Rubin. You know the Knight Sabers weren't behind this."
Rubin grinned. "But it's nice having my opinions backed up by an senior ADP official. Makes my job easier."
Daley sighed. "Anything else?"
"Nope. You better get those Tac teams ready to roll. I think this was only round one of what could be a real nasty slugging match."
"And were stuck in the middle. Wonderful."
"Come on Daley, this is what they're paying you and Leon the big bucks for."
"In that case, I want a raise."
Rubin laughed. "That's the sprit. Speaking of which, where is your partner?"
"On vacation."
"Pick a hell of a time to take it."
"You're telling me." Daley turned and walked away. "I'd better get going before round two gets underway."
As he climbed back into his car, Daley had only one thought. Damn it Leon! Where the Hell are you?
**********