Tanner pouted, watching the news on her tablet, like a bored kid on a road trip, as Carl drove.
“I don’t understand, this news story makes no sense. You said you had a team of people to kill Nadja, this just says a gang war took place over a drug deal gone wrong and the police made a huge drug bust. They’re not just covering it up, they’re basically celebrating their victory on the war on drugs like they did something great.”
“Media is 90 percent bullshit and 5 percent horse shit, Tanner. I was there. No gangs, and the only drugs were whatever Mike and Nadja were high on. All those men who died were guys I sent in there, members of the group or hired guns. Professionals."
“I don’t understand how they just cover it up, what bout witnesses? It’s a fucking hotel. Nobody saw anything?” she asked. “Bitch with blue hair and a Russian accent didn’t stand out at all to anyone?”
“Anyone who got close enough to identify Nadja is probably dead, anyone who wasn’t, probably took cover when guns started going off. Cops probably paid off anyone telling a different story. Chaos and panic can look like anything if you spin it right. Plus, we’re up against some supernatural forces here.” Carl said coldly.
“No we’re not. She’s not an actual devil, she’s just a person who’s evil and rich. She has money, political power and fear, and she’s insanely well-trained.”
“Mike did most of that killing. Where did he get his training? No military records, did he ever tell you how he got so damn good?” Carl asked.
“He’s just smart and builds his own guns that do wild shit. Look. He made me this.” She said, holding up the red and black SMG.
“It’s a shitty Keltec with a lot of aftermarket stuff on it. Suppressor, grip, good sights, custom paint job. I could do that.” He scoffed. She held up the magazine and the gleaming silver shells with an oddly beefy copper projectile, grooved turned into it every other 2 millimeters.
“That weird custom ammo of his, hu?” Carl sighed. “So he invented a new bullet.”
“He re-invented the bullet, and then reverse engineered a gun around it, took a cheap gun apart and copied every piece he wanted in better materials, some weird metals different from the ones he invented for the bullets, interchangeable calibers. This just looks like a 500 dollar plastic gun because he painted it in plastic paint to look like a 500 dollar plastic gun. It’s incognito, but this thing is kind of insane. The other guns he has are even more insane.”
“Yea he showed me the Gwen 50 cal that shoots over a mile and folds up like a damn origami stork into your pocket. That explains the firepower, but not why an old man can outshoot a merchant army, and why Nadja smelled him out from Russia and found him. I thought you believe in the supernatural side of Mike.
“I do…I mean mostly.” she pondered.
“So if Mike is divine, why can’t Nadja be a cursed plague? She didn’t have his guns and his God, and she held her ground against Mike, and then turned him.”
“He’s not TURNED!” she barked, punching the console. “He’s tricked somehow, or he has some weird plan to do something bigger we don’t understand. I don’t know. Mike wouldn’t just turn evil, he wouldn’t just betray me, maybe you. You wanna kill him. Maybe you’re lying about everything, and he’s her hostage, and you don’t wanna admit one girl killed them all and kicked your ass. I don’t trust anyone, except Mike. And if he’s not playing some game of divine chess, then he’s in danger and being played. Either way, he’s not our enemy. SHE is. Nadja, with her sexy matrix moves and her big Russian tits. You boys are just distracted and baffled by hotness because you guys are killers, and she’s a phenomenal killer, which is clearly a turn on for you guys, she’s exotic and mysterious, and also she’s just hot. Like even, I see that. At the strip club, holy hell I was distracted too, I just didn’t build a religion around it. Maybe if I had a penis, I’d be under her spell too. She’s not indestructible and protected by Satan, she’s just a highly skilled Dick whisperer with a ton of military training to kill, and grampa’s political immunity and big money.” She ranted. “Maybe GRAMPA is the devil!” she gasped sarcastically.
“We’ve looked into that theory.” Carl admitted.
“Oh my shit. I was joking. He’s just the Russian president. Name a president who’s not basically an evil dick-tator. They’re all evil, that’s how you get to be president. Cheating and being evil, spending a ton of money and backstabbing. They can’t all be the devil. They CAN all be assholes with insane power madness. None of them are the devil, they just all think they’re God.” She huffed.
Nadja strutted out from the shower of the 5-star hotel, dripping on the carpet she didn’t care about cleaning, and finding Mike nose-deep in his laptop, coffee and a stack of papers, 5 window tabs open and a CAD program with a gun in the middle.
“Do you always obsess over these?” she asked, rubbing his shoulders and peering over them.
“Only when I need a distraction. Helps me to keep my mind bouncing off 50 different things and on one point. In the background, I can process what I need to. Like why I’m considering assassinating a presidential candidate. I’m letting that question percolate while I make the perfect weapons better.”
“You seem to do fine with what you have.”
“Everything could be better, there’s always a better design. A more efficient system, simpler, more compact, more options. Take a look.” He said showing her the little SMG.
“So, what is so special that you can’t just relax?”
“I don’t need to relax. Relaxing bothers me. Relaxing is the absence of progress and forward movement. It’s wasted time someone could spend being productive. If I want to enjoy myself, I’ll do something enjoyable, if I want to rest I’ll sleep. Doing nothing accomplishes nothing, and you’re talking about a serious hit here. Even if he’s not the CURRENT president, killing a president is a hell of a suggestion to consider and plan for. Why are you so casual about it?” he asked.
“Because life is about freedom and power. I’ve always had power, money and whatever I needed, so I take what I want. You were poor plumber boy living paycheck to paycheck. This is no longer the case. I get what I want, and I wanted you, so you get what you want now. You want a workshop and men making bullets, we can do that. You want a team designing these for you, say the word. You want to kill a man, you just decide what you need and I get it. You’re no longer confined by money and the law, or by that voice in your head telling you no…or that little Tanner getting into trouble. You ARE trouble, Mike. Without you, she’s at less risk, a target for nobody. Not leverage to get to you. You mentored her, if God wants a student, he has one. You have been retired, and when you retire, you don’t work for anyone, you enjoy yourself and do what you want, because we could die tomorrow and you are not getting younger. Why obsess over the perfect gun for the job when you can just pick your favorite, or I can buy you one.”
“You didn’t notice the name on the screen?” he smirked. She leaned over him, bracing his arms and intentionally pressing her bare breasts on the back of his head.
“The 5.7 Morozov. Michael... did you invent another little silver bullet and name it after me?” she smiled.
“Not just named after you. Designed for you. You favor the 5.7mm for it’s compact size and speed, but it lacks range and silence. So I fixed it. The 5.7 Morozov is your bullet, perfected. Smaller package, higher capacity, higher velocity, or a subsonic option with full power, no energy loss.”
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Mmmmmm…old gun shop man said you couldn’t do that. The laws of physics prevent it.” she scoffed.
“Because he’s a moronic fudd thinking in brass and gunpowder, not in tungsten and magnesium. He’s operating within the rules of gunsmiths, not the laws of physics. I can’t change physics, but I don’t play by the gunsmith rules. This round is perfect for you, and that is the gun that fires it.”
“You do realize you have a much better toy to play with right here, don’t you?” she said, biting his ear. He got a handful of her hair and pulled her in for a kiss, taking control and, in doing so, doing exactly what she wanted him to.
“So do you want to kill a president or just fuck and do cocaine? It’s difficult to do both at the same time. Laws of physics and all.” Mike whispered.
“Michael, the weapon you need to perfect is yourself. A fucking BB gun in your hands is sufficient to kill. Don’t you understand? I’m training you. Part of training is letting go and enjoying it. You’re not baffling the police and running from the law, thinking your way out of jail. You’re above that law now. You plan instead of sleeping and eating, and it’s going to kill you, and in a very boring way. You deserve to die in a more exciting manner doing something less planned and more FELT.” She almost hissed into his ear. “What do you FEEL you want to do, not what you think you need to do? Tonight, not for the future or a 3-week plan. You need to sleep tonight, exhausted and satisfied, not agitated and still thinking. So what does your heart want when your head isn’t doing ballistic math or calculating how to build a better mousetrap?”
“2 things keep coming to mind. Killing and you. They overlap now and then. Killing with you, or killing you, but you’re stuck in the back of my head and so is that craving for blood.
“So let’s play. No planning. No rules. Just do it.” she said, slithering back so he could see his temptation and get creative.
“Grab a gun. You wanna go for a ride?” he asked.
The wind rushed past his face, no concern for the speed that the bike was moving, or the familiar worry that if he crashed, he would hurt Tanner. The clawed fingernails of Nadja gripping him borderline painfully as she pulled in close, and deep down he didn’t care if he killed them both or not. There was something freeing about sharing the dance of death with someone he felt connected with, but without the pesky love and affection in the way of being dangerous. Part of him wanted to kill her anyway, part of him wanted to ram the bike into something just to see who would survive, and part of him wanted to just impress her. It was like being young again, the rush of youthful stupid love with the ignorance of any future consequence, except he knew better. He knew the consequences and the risk, and he simply didn’t care, and the bitch breathing down his neck meant nothing in his heart. She was just a treat and a resource that posed the risk of killing him and making it more exciting. He saw the flash of lights behind him and his heart raced, instinctively thinking how to escape or talk his way out, his mind cycling through the legality and the details until a hand raised the plastic neck of a pint bottle of vodka to his mouth and he just accepted it, closing his eyes and letting her pour in the fuel as the bike maintained speed. The bottle emptied and discarded, and he let off the gas, coasting to a leisurely stop, over far too long of a stretch of highway, far enough that the city lights weren’t so bright.
Mike turned the gas off as Nadja raised her eyebrows and waited, mouth open in shock as she waited to see what he was doing.
“Sir, do you know how fast you were going?” the officer asked as Mike looked up coldly.
“No idea. Wasn’t paying attention.” He said.
“Double the speed limit. You surely were aware you were going significantly faster than legal.”
“I didn’t really think much of it.” he said.
“Let me handle this.” Nadja said, looking up at the officer and smiling devilishly. “How much would it cost to make this speed limit…much higher?” she asked.
“Lady, I don’t give a shit how much you got on you, the limit is the limit. We’re not talking about 5 or 10 miles over, you were doing a hundred in a 50 zone, which is beyond reckless endangerment and bribing a cop is illegal too. I can tell you’re not from around here so I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that miscommunication, but this isn’t a warning, I’m arresting your man here.”
“Damn…that’s a real shame.” Mike nodded calmly. “Part of me wishes you took the bribe…” he said, drawing his pistol and putting a round through his head. “But part of me is glad you didn’t. Losing money is never this enjoyable.” He said getting off the bike and putting another round in him to be sure. “That was.” He whispered, getting back on the bike and revving the engine back up.
“Now that was unexpected.” Nadja grinned, holding him close.
“He chose the wrong night and the wrong bike to pull over, and the wrong bribe to pass up on. I told you I wanted to kill something. He got in the way and made it inconvenient, so I made it a bonus.” He said, darkness in his eyes growing. “But not quite the meal I wanted. Call it an appetizer.” He said hitting the gas and speeding off.
“You shot a cop, Mike.” She yelled over the wind.
“I’ve killed cops before. I shot the body cam and used your gun. No witnesses. What is he gonna to do. ID me? All the dashcam is going to show is a bike and blue hair, and your gun killing a cop. So if they do put the pieces together, they’ll back off. Otherwise, they’re looking for you.” He smiled. “But if you really want something fun, we’ll have to head back home. I have some old connections back there that you might like to meet.” He said, turning the bike around and heading back.
Tanner woke to someone shaking her, and stuck the gun in Carl’s face.
“Whoa, shit. Sorry. I tried talking, but you were dead to the world there.” Carl defended.
“What the hell, it’s been like 4 hours.” She groaned.
“Well, I need you to drive, I’ve been driving all day and Mike just took a full U-turn. I can't face him on no sleep, so we’re trading off. I wanna be fresh when we get there."
“Get where, what happened, what did I miss, I was asleep for 4 hours.” Tanner yawned.
“I should have told you earlier. Nadja planted a tracker somewhere on me, and they’ve been evading me. What they don’t know is that I’m tracing the tracker and I can track them back. Look here. That’s the same rout I took when I picked you up. He’s heading back to Illinois. Does Mike have a second home there or anything? A bunker, some place nobody knows about?”
“No. Just the storage building with the U-haul in it. We took everything important with us in it. You said the cabin burned down, where would he go?” she asked as he got out and went around, basically shoving her into the driver’s seat and handing her a coffee.
“You tell me. You were banging the guy, living in his home. Why would he turn back? He’s going after the group.” Carl sighed.
“We don’t know that, he could be trapping Nadja, or she could be driving him at gunpoint back there.”
“I can feel it. I shouldn’t have tried to reason with him, told him anything. I had no idea he’d team up with her. I put them all in danger.”
“First off, you tried to kill Mike, maybe he’s just leading you back home to kill you on his turf. Secondly, he’s not teamed up with her, he’s got an angle, and we just don’t know the angle. Lastly, he wouldn’t go after the group unless they were evil people who deserved to die, and then why are you running with them? If you rooted out all the evil fuckers already, then nobody glows, and he won’t kill. That’s how Mike works. If you sent a damn hit squad on him, he might have acted in self-defense, but he won't hunt them…down.” She said, looking like a lightbulb went off.”
“Hello, Earth to Tanner. What just happened?"
“He wouldn’t go kill your group…but he might go and screw with them, to lure you in. Carl, he’s setting up a trap for you. He’s gonna mess with your head and bluff and say he has some people hostage or something and lead you to somewhere for a truce, and then like the place is empty and full of bombs or some shit. You’re just getting chauffeured to your death. Not theirs. He may try and flip them, he may use them as a distraction, but I know Mike. He wouldn’t randomly kill people to get to you. He absolutely would pretend to do that, and then kill you.”
“Okay, so what’s the plan. Nadja is with him.”
“The plan is, I walk up and say HEY MIKE! And I cause a distraction while you snipe Nadja. And then I’m fine, and Mike’s fine, and you run like hell and vanish, or you’re dead. You declared war on him. I’m not on your side here, Carl. I’m just shit at tracking people, and you’ll find him before I do, so I’m better off WITH you because I don’t think you’ll kill me, and if I’m here, he won’t just unload on the truck. I am getting my Mike back from that psychopathic prom queen and in exchange for helping, I give you a chance to escape and then in return you never show up again. That’s your only hope. Help me Kill Nadja, run away. You can’t beat Mike, and if I think you got the drop on him, I’ll shoot you myself. You fucked this up, Carl. You could have just gone after Nadja and everything would be fine. You poked the holy bear. If you stay, you’re gonna get mauled. Easy.”
“I have a mission with the group, a calling. If Mike can back away and see that, then I won’t go after him, but I won’t back down from what I’m supposed to do. If Mike hunts me down for doing what God wants or insists on preventing it, then he’s truly gone, and I have to defend myself.”
“And I have to defend Mike. You see why we can’t be part of the same club?” Tanner asked. “But if your mission leads me to Mike and I can watch your ass like a hawk when he shows up, then I guess for now we’re working together. So what’s the mission?”
“Mayor Sandlin. We may have his ass.”
“The same mayor Mike was after? He said security was too high of a risk.”
“He meant too high a risk to do alone or risk your life. You were holding him back. We have people willing to die for this, and you’re stronger than Mike thinks. He just loves you too much to gamble with your life. I like you, but I don’t love you like he does. If you want in, you’re in. That’s your risk, you’re capable of doing this. Lets kill a mayor.” he grinned.