"El Patron is wounded, the others are down permanently," I replied. "They're bound?"
"Those that are conscious. Some of our playmates are going to be knocked out for a while longer."
"Then leave them. If they wake up before the cops get here, they can count themselves lucky, tell their homies what happened. Time for us to ghost."
We met Sophie coming out of the warehouse, her piece slung over her shoulder and the rest of her gear in a backpack on her back. One of the tied up Latin Kings, who'd been shot with just the neutralizer rounds and hadn't been knocked out, opened his eyes wide as he realized that the sniper who'd taken out his boss and his bodyguards was a woman. "A bitch? Fuck me, we got taken down by two gringos and a bitch?”
I was proud of Patrick's reaction. I was still turning when he already had his weapon out, shooting another neutralizer round into the man’s shoulder. The man yelped and stopped talking, Patrick smirking with one side of his mouth. "I like these things. Great for just getting them to shut up. Think we can get more?"
* * *
Tabby greeted us at the door, her eyes shimmering with tears of relief and happiness as we walked in the back door of Mount Zion, unharmed. We'd had to wait until long after dark, partly to take the time to dissolve parts of Sophie's rifle and Patrick's UMP in acid. It wasn't strong enough to totally eliminate the thick metal of the barrels, but it would render both of them untraceable. While we left plenty of other evidence behind, specifically the brass of our spent rounds, it would be a lot harder to connect the attack to us if anyone ever came knocking. We'd dispose of the rest of the pieces later, scattering them in the ocean after again giving them an acid bath. Still, it took time.
"We told you we were fine," Patrick said quietly as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him tight and burying her face in his chest. I couldn't hear her sobs, but her shoulders shook, and he stroked her hair, soothing her with gentle murmurs that I couldn't make out.
I put an arm around Sophie's shoulders, watching them. "She looks happy to see him," I quipped, smiling as Tabby pulled her face which was, in fact, streaked with tears away from him to smile at us. "Good, because I think Sophie wants her hug too."
"Get over here you damn fool," she laughed, pulling both of us into a hug. Patrick joined in until Andrea, who was in the dining area and had been sleeping rather soundly, woke up to figure out what was making all the noise. The four of us held each other, a family, only stopping when my daughter's voice demanded attention.
"How was Andrea anyway?" Sophie asked Tabby. "I hope she listened to her Aunt Tabby."
"She's an angel, just like her mother," Tabby replied, sharing a look with Sophie that spoke more than words. I let go of the two women and watched them hug, a bond different but perhaps even deeper than the ones they shared with me and Patrick. I often said Sophie was my soulmate, and I know Patrick felt the same about Tabby, but those two, their souls were grand enough and deep enough that they needed more than one soul to share with. They needed two, each other and their men. They left for the dining room, and I looked at Patrick, offering my hand.
"What's this for?" he asked as we shook.
"You did good out there.... partner."
Chapter Thirteen
Tabby
The next day, Vanessa could see something in my eyes as I walked into the office. "What's up?" she asked, noticing the aggressive spring in my step. "Got someone's balls on a platter or something?"
"Something like that," I answered, thinking of how today was my turn to walk into battle and emerge unscathed. "We're going to have a visitor in about an hour. Then another set of visitors maybe ten minutes after that. Think you can make them comfortable?"
"I'm sure of it," Vanessa said, perplexed. "Going to tell me who these visitors are?"
"First one should be Francine Berkowitz," I said with a baring of teeth that was probably as far from a smile as a lion's. "Second should be Bennie Fernandez and a few of his friends from the Federal building."
"So I guess fresh coffee won't be all that important," Vanessa quipped. "Still, I'll have some on when Ms. Berkowitz shows up. Although I think I'll use the cheap stuff, none of that nice blend you got me from Guatemala."
"That's fine. We can share a cup of the good stuff later then, I have another bag of that and a bag of Colombian you can choose from," I replied. "Just make sure she doesn't suspect anything when she comes in. I want her to be quite surprised when everything goes down."