“That may not have been one of my proudest moments,” Rachel admitted. “He had me pinned against the counter for five damn minutes!”
“We were all set to leave for New York. My business with the Marshal’s service and the stupid chip went exceedingly well. The men who were working as Al Mady’s hit-men and torturers are out of commission: one dead, one in custody. The chip is in the Attorney General’s hands. The three letter agencies will be after the agents in LA who were trying to get it, along with nailing the Los Alamos clown who sold it in the first place. Best of all, it got rough enough between the mess I cleaned up here and DC that our friends in the Marshal’s service never want to see me again. How cool is that?”
Rachel hung on to Nick’s arm, leaning her head against his shoulder as they walked. “Ahhh… you’re like the Energizer Bunny of assassins. So that means you don’t have to do anything to Tracy. We don’t have the chip, and we can’t get the chip, so she doesn’t have any more reasons for sending giant Samoans after us. Once she knows that, she’ll leave us alone.”
Nick glared at Gus. “Did you let Rachel fall out of a tree on her head or something?”
“I don’t know anything concerning this particular insanity where we pretend it’s a simple misunderstanding when prostitutes send leg-breakers after us. Maybe I’m not thinking too clearly after hearing my character Jed is getting a sex change operation.”
“Good one, Gus… okay… maybe I wasn’t considering all the facts.” Rachel pushed away from Nick. “You still don’t have to kill her.”
“I am assuming you have an alternate suggestion then, my dear?”
“Ignore her. She’ll go away. What harm could she do?”
“I think a better question would be ‘how did she reach the conclusion that I had the chip’.” Look, I’d like to leave her alone, but someone between the three of us who hasn’t fallen out of a tree on their head, needs to consider the fact Tracy may be a real danger to us.”
“Nick’s right,” Gus agreed. “I think you’ve been away from the cross-country journey into hell you and Jean went on with Muerto too long, Rach. You seem to have forgotten all those hard earned lessons that there are no innocent people in Nick-land. There are only the quick and the dead.”
“Gee, thanks for that bleak picture,” Rachel replied.
Nick pointed as they crested the hill where Nick’s corner house came into view. “Well, well, well… look who dropped by to say hi.”
Tracy sat on their porch veranda, hands stuffed in her pockets, hunched over slightly against the wind sweeping upward off the ocean. When she noticed her arriving acquaintances, Tracy pushed off the veranda to face them, making calming motions with her hands.
“Let me explain, Nick. I-”
“No need to explain,” Nick cut her off as he walked past and opened his door. “There are no explanations for sending hired thugs in to threaten my wife.”
Gus, Rachel, and Deke went through the door without pausing or acknowledging Tracy. “I’m sure you have something to say, but don’t bother with an explanation. Get right to it, or hit the road. Come on in.”
Tracy entered, her features tightening into a sullen mask.
“I’ll be upstairs, Nick.” Rachel continued to the stairwell with Deke following.
“We haven’t forgotten Jean, Hon.” Nick led the way into the kitchen.
The moment Tracy entered the kitchen, Nick forced her over the kitchen table with her right cheek pressed hard into the table surface. He then did a search for everything and anything on her body. He threw everything he found inside a plastic bag Gus held open for him, including her purse, cell-phone, and car keys. Nick stripped her, leaving no article of clothing on her body. Tracy tried squealing, but when he heard a sound from her, Nick pressed harder until he finished. He then gave Gus a small plastic container and his special phone, mouthing the words ‘tracker’ and ‘clone’. Gus nodded his understanding. He carried the plastic bag into the next room, and turned on music. Before returning with an afghan cover from the couch, Gus fastened the RFID to the inside of Tracy’s purse.
Nick took the afghan and threw it over Tracy’s body. “Have a seat, and tell us what’s on your mind, Tracy.”
“What the hell was that for?”
“It’s called a strip search. It’s what we do with criminals in places they don’t belong. You’re lucky I didn’t do a cavity search. Now sit the fuck down!”
Tracy sat down with Gus and Nick taking seats opposite her, clutching the afghan around herself tightly, no longer as confident looking as when she entered. “I heard the stories.”
“What stories?”