Chapter 28

They found Annabeth in their suite watching the news on TV. The images of people far away fascinated Chun almost as much as the lightning that built up on the surface of the screen.

“Will you get out of the way? I’m trying to watch that,” Annabeth said.

“Sorry.”

“What have you found?” Halloway plopped down on the couch.

Annabeth sighed and turned the TV off. “Last time I was here I was eighteen and I just wanted to skinny dip in the ocean, drink beer, and chase boys.”

Chun laughed. “If you were skinny dipping, shouldn’t the boys have been chasing you?”

Annabeth guffawed. “Alright, the boys chased me, and Jhon chased them. He was livid. He claims that trip created half of his gray hair.

“This time I’m noticing new things. Crime is everywhere. The panhandlers are organized, the pickpockets are organized, the vices are extremely organized. I went into one of the clubs, and they told me it was for gentlemen only. I asked if I could dance, and they said yes, but I would have to sign a contract.” She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to Halloway.

He unfolded it and read for a minute. “They want you to sign up for a full year?”

“Apparently.”

He shook his head. “And you have to provide escort services to the club’s ownership and premier clientele.”

Halloway’s eyes went wide. “And you’re required to get an abortion if necessary.”

Annabeth propped her fists on her hips. “I think you both know I’m not a prude. Shameless is the word Jhon used last time we had a fight about it. That said, I want to burn that club down.”

Chun gave her a toothy smile. “You could sign the contract, then refuse to honor it. I will help you kill their enforcers.”

She tilted her head. “That’s an intriguing idea. If they’re coming after me, it’s just self-defense when I shoot them.”

“Back on mission,” Halloway said. “I admire your instincts, but let’s aim them at the people we came here to find.”

Chun unloaded his pockets onto the table. Halloway did too. Between them they had just under a hundred thousand.

Annabeth put five thousand on the table. “Holy shit. Did you guys even look for Archibald?”

Halloway grinned at her. “In fact, we did. Chun also robbed a team of stickup artists, then a pickpocket. Most of this came from the dog track. Chun has a knack for picking winners.”

“I bet,” Annabeth said, and rolled her eyes.

Halloway took six thousand out of the piled and put it back in his luggage. “This is the bureau’s money, plus a one hundred percent profit for them. I’ll see if Jhon will let us use it to throw a party for the whole office when we get back.”

He divided the rest of the money into three roughly equal piles. “Every day or two we’ll put our winnings in the pot and divide the pot up again. That will keep unhealthy competition to a minimum, and all of us should be able to enjoy this trip and still take a nice bonus home when we’re done. Arguments?”

“Chun’s getting screwed, so I like it,” Annabeth said.

“I do not mind this system,” Chun said.

“Thank you,” Halloway said, and patted him on the shoulder.

* * *

“We need to develop some local contacts,” Halloway said. “The Montague family has a near stranglehold on Davos’ gambling and vice. Corruption is notorious. Crime families have more power than the government in many respects.”

Chun took a bite of his tuna steak. They had prepared it with lemon and garlic and served it with a dry white wine and crusty bread. Halloway had taken a few bites of his. Chun was halfway through his second order.

The restaurant offered an awe-inspiring view of the city and the ocean beyond. They were at the top of a medium hill, and the balcony seating put them out in the shade of the building, where gentle breezes brought the smells of food and flowers.

“Is this the only country that would refuse to extradite Archibald?” Chun asked.

Halloway shook his head. “There are actually several places that are better in that regard. It’s not that Marin won’t extradite someone, it’s just that they make it difficult.”

“Then why here?” Chun waved to the waiter and held the wine bottle up.

“Another, sir?”

“Two please.”

“Right away, sir.”

Halloway raised an eyebrow. “Jhon said not to pester you about eating and drinking. He says whatever it is you did to get this old must be working, but you’ve already had three bottles.”

Chun smiled and drained his glass. “You had one of them.”

“Right, but I’m done now, which means you’re planning on having four.”

“How much do you weigh, sir?”

Halloway pinched his stomach. “I’m not sure. Probably one seventy.”

“I weighed three forty when we left. I’m trying to get back to three eighty.”

Halloway shook his head and took a bite of his food. “Good instincts coming here. It’s fantastic. I’d never have considered it. Something about paying a hundred dollars a plate makes me really nervous.”

Chun laughed. “A well-fed man in a very expensive suit mentioned it. I thought he would know what he was talking about. Besides, it is our duty. Until we figure out how to get intelligence from local contacts, we need to scout widely.”

Halloway leaned back in the chair and threw his napkin on the table. “Alright. Since it’s my duty, I’ll allow it.”

A tickle at the edge of Chun’s breath got his attention. He paused and focused, then opened his eyes and looked at Halloway. “Annabeth is approaching. She seems in a hurry.”

Halloway looked around. “I don’t see her.”

“She is about two hundred feet that way,” Chun said, pointing through the building.

“Go meet her and bring her to our table,” Halloway said.

Chun got up and walked through the building. It was a grand place, built from huge timbers and supported by pillars made from unmilled tree trunks.

Annabeth was gorgeous. Chun nearly gasped when he saw her. She had a spray of silk flowers in her hair. Her dress was white and loose-fitting, draped over one shoulder, and leaving the other bare. The slit in the side went all the way to her hip, and right now she was standing at the front desk, staring down a red-faced maître d’. The leg sticking out of the slit was heavily muscled.

He walked up to them. “Annabeth, you found us. Jacob will be pleased.”

“Sir, she cannot go inside,” the maître d’ said.

“And why is that?” Chun looked between the two.

“Because he thinks I’m a prostitute,” Annabeth said.

Chun focused on the angry man. “In that case, I insist. This is my friend and colleague, Annabeth Toy. She is here to meet Jacob Halloway. We will eat, we will drink, and we will leave. No harm will come to the reputation of your fine establishment.”

He shook his head. “And I must insist--”

“You have wounded the honor of my friend. I demand an apology,” Chun said.

He jabbed a finger at Chun. “You do not make the rules here--”

“Then I demand satisfaction.”

“What?”

Annabeth gave him a glaring smile. “He means a duel, idiot.”

The maître d’ ground his teeth. “Very well. Would you like to choose weapons, or ground?”

“I prefer to choose the time,” Chun said.

“When?”

“Now.”

He turned to a white-faced young man behind him. “Get Marcel to mind the desk.” Then he turned back to Chun and Annabeth. “You will accompany me.” He turned and stalked down the hall.

He moves like a swordsman. No wonder he is belligerent.

They passed the kitchens and entered a spacious office in the corner of the building. The view out the windows was spectacular. An aging, but formidable gentleman sat behind a huge mahogany desk.

“Janson, what is the matter?” he asked.

“This foreign speck of dust dares to ask me for a duel, on the spot, because I will not let him bring a harlot into Bianchi’s.”

The old gentleman stood up and surveyed Chun and Annabeth. “What is your profession, ma’am?”

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“When I’m not vacationing, I’m a security guard,” Annabeth said.

“I find that doubtful. And yours, sir?”

“Same,” Chun said.

“That is more believable. This island is a sinful place, and Bianchi’s is a small piece of safety in the midst of the chaos. Here no one will pick your pocket. Here no one will blackmail you. Here women are merely women, and not any of the other things you find lower down. I do not approve of the lady’s attire. Nor do I approve of the belligerence you have displayed here. You will apologize to Mr. Janson, at once, or I will approve your request for a duel.”

Chun glanced at Annabeth. She was ready to commit murder. To be fair, he wasn’t far behind. “What is your name, sir?”

“I am Peter Mont Clair, owner of Bianchi’s.”

“Sir, your employee has insulted my friend, and now you have done so as well. When I am finished with him, I will need to speak with you again.”

Mont Clair stiffened. “To the death?”

Chun shrugged. “I see no need for that, but I defer to your judgement.”

Janson and Mont Clair exchanged glances, and then Mont Clair said, “To first blood.”

“I accept,” Chun said.

Mont Clair took them out to the front driveway, motioning to his staff with a pair of gestures that resembled sword thrusts. One of the waiters came and took Chun’s coat. He tried to take Chun’s pistol rig, but Chun gave that to Annabeth instead.

She’d better not shoot me with my own guns. That would make a very poor epitaph.

People hurried out of the hotel and restaurant and gathered around the edge of the driveway. Chun repeatedly caught people speculating on how long it would take Janson to cut down the belligerent fatass.

This will be satisfying. Finally, someone will pay for calling me fat.

They brought him a strange helmet, with a bubble of wire mesh over the face, and a toy sword made of a long, thin piece of spring steel. It was impossibly light and would have extremely little value as a slashing or bludgeoning weapon.

Stabbing it is, then.

“What’s going on here?” Halloway entered the room in an exasperated mess.

“Sir, you are in the dueling area. Please step back,” Mont Clair said.

Halloway walked up to him. “Before we go that far, why don’t you explain why one of my employees is involved in a duel?”

Mont Clair gestured to Chun. “The thug works for you?”

Halloway’s eyebrow went up. “Yes, he does.”

Mont Clair gestured to Annabeth. “And the harlot?”

Halloway’s other eyebrow went up. “Yes, she does. Why the hell do you think she’s a prostitute?”

“Do you not see her attire?”

“I see that she’s covered a lot better than women in the clubs, or on the beaches.”

“Bianchi’s is a place where people go to get away from club women, Mr.?”

“Jacob Halloway.”

“Your employees reflect poorly on you, Mr. Halloway.”

Halloway clenched his fists, and his expression went from surprise and questioning to anger. “I don’t suppose you wager on these events, do you?”

Mont Clair’s eyebrows went up. “Surely you are not serious.”

Halloway pulled four stacks of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket.

“This is a matter of honor, sir. You would cheapen it with wagers?”

“Chun is going to kick this loser’s ass. There’s no honor in that. It’s just a beating.”

Mont Clair made an axe-handed chop. “Enough. It is time for you to learn your manners. How much would you like to wager?”

“How about ten million?” Chun beamed at the crowd.

Gasps went around the crowd.

“I am through with you,” Mont Clair said.

Halloway poked him in the chest with a finger. “You keep whining about our manners. If you can’t afford real money, why don’t you suggest a number? Or perhaps you’d like to apologize to my people, and we can go inside and finish our meals.”

“Very well, Mr. Halloway. Two hundred thousand.”

Halloway shook his hand, then walked over to Annabeth.

Janson put on the strange helmet. Chun looked at the one they had brought for him. There was no way it would fit on his head. He tossed it to Halloway.

“En garde,” Mont Clair said. Janson brought the point of his toothpick up.

“Does this game have rules?” Chun stepped back, not raising the toothpick yet.

“Don’t worry about it,” Janson said.

Chun shrugged and brought his point up.

“Fight.” Mont Clair said.

Janson advanced in an odd, bladed stance with one foot in front of the other and one hand held out behind him. Despite the awkwardness, he had clearly done it numerous times, and moved with confidence and surprising speed.

He lunged, aiming the point of his toothpick at Chun’s heart. Chun stepped back three quarters of a pace and the point of Janson’s toothpick brushed Chun's shirt. Chun side-stepped and made a crude downward slash that forced Janson to reset.

Janson advanced again, the point of his toothpick searching for an opening. Chun backed around the dueling space, measuring how much he could deflect the strange spring steel toys with blocks and parries, and learning how Janson moved.

“There’s no way,” one of the bystanders said as Chun went by. “Janson’s a world champion fencer.”

“You’re a world champion?” Chun chuckled, parrying an attack effortlessly.

“Five times,” Janson said, and attacked again.

The grip of the toy swords had a ring above and below the grip, and a circular steel guard to protect the fighter’s hand. Chun flicked his toothpick upward, batting Janson’s--he wasn’t quite willing to call it a blade. There was no edge.

Janson’s steel flicked upward, and Chun threaded the point of his steel through one of the rings in Janson’s grip, then stepped in close as he turned sideways, ripping the weapon out of Janson’s hand.

Janson stepped back, and Chun turned to Mont Clair. “Do I win now?”

He shook his head. “In an honor duel this would be a winning move. You accepted first blood.”

“Can I just walk over and stab him with his own… stick?”

“This weapon is called a foil,” Mont Clair said. “No. You must return his foil, and then continue.”

“Alright.” Chun walked over and handed the weapon back. Janson nodded and took his stance.

“En garde,” Mont Clair said.

Chun raised his foil.

“Fight.”

Janson moved cautiously, careful to control his spacing. His exploratory jabs were short, focused on maintaining his balance and ability to retreat.

Chun timed the short jabs, then poked Janson in the bicep. He growled in frustration and switched his foil to his left hand. Chun pointed to the small blood spot on his shirt.

“Do I not win?”

“No. You have cost him an arm; a winning blow is a potentially killing blow.”

Chun shrugged and advanced. When he closed the distance, he poked Janson in the other bicep.

“What about now?”

Janson took his helmet off and bowed. “I concede.” He handed his foil to Mont Clair and walked to Annabeth. “Madam, I have treated you horribly. Please accept my apology.”

Annabeth looked at Chun, and he nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Janson.”

Mont Clair took Chun’s foil and handed it to an employee, then went to Annabeth. “I too was quite insulting to you and would like to extend my sincere apologies.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mont Clair.”

Another gentleman of about sixty brought a leather bag to Mont Clair, who handed it to Halloway. “You will find this covers our wager, sir.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mont Clair,” Halloway said.

“Please, come in. Finish your meal. We will set a place for the lady,” Mont Clair said.

Annabeth whispered in Halloway’s ear, and Chun was just able to make it out by funneling some extra breath to his ears.

“I found them.”

Halloway turned to Mont Clair. “That is a gracious offer, but I must decline. Some important business has come up.”

Mont Clair bowed. “Of course, sir. Return any time.”