"YOUR TURN RICK” she yelled out in her perfect Spanish attempting to be heard over the dim of the room. “YOU’RE GOING TO LOVE IT!"
But he wasn’t paying attention to her or, to her slight annoyance, the drink. He was looking away, straining to see over the heads of the dancers and patrons of the club, fixated on something or someone. She was hoping it wasn’t his “friend”. She hadn’t seen her yet and that was just fine in Carla’s book.
Carla jumped up twice to see if she could see what had Rick’s attention. But it was no use, she was just too short. That was one thing that sucked about being her height; you couldn’t see anything in a crowd. Just when she was about to do something dramatic to try to get Rick attention back on her, he called back, asking her a bizarre question.
“YOU DON’T HAVE AN OVERLY PROTECTIVE FATHER OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT, DO YOU CARLA?” That is what she thought he said but it was hard for her to make it out.
“WHAT? NO. WHY?” Shouted was a difficult way of communicating.
Rick didn’t answer, possible because it was just too hard to hear anything with the noise of the music. He stopped looking off at whatever was out there and looked back down to her. He was calm but obviously something was bothering him. It looked as if his mind was racing and he wasn’t having any fun. Well, men were sometimes like that she thought to herself, all work and no play. But instead of taking the glass in his hands of blue green liquid and drinking it down as she expected him to do, and much more to her annoyance, he absentmindedly placed the drink down on the counter. Carla was about ready to grab the drink and climb up on his shoulders and pour it down his mouth. She didn’t like to be ignored even if she couldn’t be heard. But what was bothering her more was she found she was falling for Rick but he wasn’t showing the same level of interest back. She was gamboling she knew because men as good looking as Rick always girls around them and the competition could be daunting.
Rick leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “Security just tripled.”
“WHAT?! WHY?” It scared her a bit as she remembered the violence at the cemetery. She tried to move in close to him like a child would into the arms of a protecting father.
“I DON’T KNOW YET.” He yelled back as he straightened up and turned back to the crowed room, his move causing her intended snuggle to miss the spot. “THEY SEEM TO BE FOCUSED ON . . . Oh, I SEE. GROUP OF MEN AND TWO LADIES REALLY PUTTING ON THE MOVES and . . . Oh!”
But what the “oh” was, Carla couldn’t hear nor did it look like Rick was going to say. She shoved him around and the look up into his eyes. The look was priceless. He looked defeated almost, almost like a child. It was adorable and made her want to squeeze him like a doll.
“WHAT IS ‘OH’? WHAT DID YOU SEE?”
But his mind was elsewhere. So Carla being Carla reacted as any short and spunky proactive girl would. She jumped up onto bar and stretched her neck to see what was so interesting. She used Rick’s shoulder as support and just for added extra measures she pressed her chest up against Rick as a feminine reminder that she was a woman and shouldn’t be ignored.
Looking out, she couldn’t tell if there anything different or not. It looked like it did on any other night she had been here.
“YOU SAID THERE IS TIGHTER SECUIRTY? HOW CAN YOU TELL?” She looked down at him. He didn’t seem to be minding the position she was in.
“LOOK FOR THE PEOPLE NOT DANCING; THOSE WHO DON’T HAVE RHYTHM, BY THE FIRE EXIT.”
Carla looked again and sure enough she began to spot figures that moved as if they didn’t have a musical bone in their bodies. She was impressed. Who had Rick recognize the difference in movement? But now that he had said what the tell-tale sign was, it was becoming obvious and easy to pick out men who weren’t enjoying the night revelry. They were converging on the area Rick said. But before she could figure out what was happening, Rick reached up and pulled her down from the stool as the music from the band came to an end as the last note reverberated out in a dying echo. In the loll that followed there were able to have a normal, if not hurried conversation.
“That is enough looking for now.” The non-shouting was much better. “We don’t want to draw any attention to ourselves if we can help it.”
Carla started firing of questions.
“What is going on? Who are they after? Did you see that girl in the red dress? I wish I had a figure like that! And how about her hair, it was magnificent. But then I saw the man behind her with the blue shirt and he wasn’t acting right. Do you think he was one of them? I have never really noticed the security passed the front door before. Where did they all come from? Did you see bald headed man? He looked big. You’re not thinking about starting a fight are you? I don’t think it is any of our concern if you ask me. You don’t think they aren’t after you, do you? There is no way this would have anything that happened at the cemetery?”
“I don’t think so,” Was all he could do to answer her machine gun rate of questioning. He pointed to the back bar with its stainless steel bars. “Is there a way to get out from the back there?”
“Sure, if we can get Petra to open the door, there are some service elevators in the back and a stairwell that exits out onto the back ally. But it is against the club’s policy to let anyone back there. If you don’t think there is trouble with us, why would we worry about it? Clearly they are going after someone else. Let’s just enjoy the evening.” She said as she tugged on his arm and attempted to pull him out onto the dance floor.
But Rick didn’t move and Carla knew then whatever was going on at the far end of the club involved his girl. She knew tonight was over for her and he was going to leave her.
“It’s your friend isn’t it?”
“Yes, yes it is.”
Well, that was it. It was over. He had clearly rejected her drink and now he was rejecting her. It was time to leave. But she didn’t want to and it bothered her. Why couldn’t she walk away? She usually got what she wanted but Rick had slipped through her fingers. With other men she hadn’t cared. But with Rick it was different and she couldn’t figure out why. Inside she was having strange feelings. She tried to rationalize that he wasn’t what she wanted and she was just being a silly love-sick little girl. Besides, how long had it been since she saw him at the station? It was just a few hours ago, no more. Then why was she having these feeling? It was frustrating. “Hades, I needed a smoke!” she thought.
The music started up again with the hi-hat cymbal beginning to shimmer and snap a new beat. Carla knew the beat. She knew it because it was her song; she had written it. And that was the irony of it too. She had written it to be about triumph and victory. She consigned herself to losing Rick and turning to leave but Rick grabbed her hand and spun her around with the beat of the music. She found herself looking up, locked in his blue eyes.
“Carla.”
She hadn’t expected the intensity of his eyes as he looked back at her.
“What Rick? Your friend is other there. Go to her.” She pointed with her eyes. The music was picking up and it would shortly be too loud to talk without yelling.
“Carla, you don’t understand. Understand that I like you. You are a beautiful lady and have incredible spunk. But above you and me, I need your help. You are the only person I know in Paris that I trust.”
And with those words she melted inside. The music sped up and became more appropriate for her feelings and her hopeful heart beat. There was still hope and she felt a blush coming from his compliment so she turned to look at the band to hide her face. The Cock playing the drums looked like he was about to have a nervous conniption fit. He was so goofy looking that it brought a bright smile to her face. This whole situation was just like the drummer; completely stupid and out of control like her emotions. The music intensified as the synthesized boom of the techno-beat started up. The crowd knew the song and loved it and the excited roar of the patrons filled the dance hall. They would have to shout again to talk to each other.
“ALRIGHT, WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU?”
“GET PETRA TO OPEN THE BACK AND THEN GET READY TO DRIVE!” He shouted back with a smile and then kissed her, and then he disappeared into the crowded dance floor.
She was too short to try to see what he was doing so she hurried back through the dancing mass to the bar and waved to get Petra’s attention.
“WHAT HAPPENED TO MISTER GOOD-LOOKING? YOU SEND HIM ON HIS WAY?”
“NO, BUT I NEED A FAVORE. THERE IS GOING TO BE . . .”
But before Carla could yell out that there was going to be trouble, it started with a crash that was loud enough to be heard over the music. The three women vocalist on the stand all stopped singing followed haltingly by one, then two, and then all of the band members. With the music stopped, the crowd in shocked silences turned as if a single body. The neon lights and dance strobes still flashed out their psychedelic patterns among the motionless crowd of on lookers. The eerie seconds of silence was suddenly replaced by high pitched screams of panic as hands flew to red painted mouths. Carla saw what was causing the panic. Of course, she couldn’t have missed it. A bottle of what looked like vodka with a burning rag stuck in it sailed up above the heads of the crowded room and smashed into the golden chandelier and exploded into a sphere showering flames.
What followed was complete pandemonium. The fire alarm blared out its piercing klaxon warning while the water sprinklers began to disgorge water over everyone. Hours and hours spent fussing over hair and makeup was ruined in seconds. People screamed and surged and raced in a mad terror to get away from the spraying water and falling flames.
Petra had somehow moved in a flash out from behind the bar and was next to Carla. With no clear exit sign in the back, all of the patrons of the club were holding their hands over head for protection and pushed their way into the bottled up mass of bodies by the stairs that lead down to the exits.
Carla saw a blur of action and she recognized it as Rick. He had just kicked a large brown colored beaver security guard to the ground and was now spinning and kicking at a huge black rhino she had seen at the front doors when she had entered the club. He did a wicked kick up into the rhino’s chin, knocking the brute back a number of steps, losing him in the mass of people. The Rick grabbed hands with a tall red headed woman in a black dress and turned as if to run towards Carla. But the girl pulled him back and pointed at another lady caught in the foray that was being hauled off by an evil looking man in black suit. Rick gave the red head a shove in Carla’s direction and pulled out a gun from his pants.
Petra swore! “NO! Don’t mess with the Russians!”
But Rick couldn’t hear her. He moved with lightening speed. The man in the black suit never saw what hit him. He just collapsed in a spray of red. Grabbing the second girl that stood in shock, Rick spun and started running to the back. It looked like the fight was over. But that was until the rhino came charging back from the crowd. This time Rick didn’t see him.
Carla screamed out a warning but it was too late.
The rhino smashed into Rick’s back, ripping his hand free from the second girl he was helping and he and the rhino went flying head first into a cement pillar. Rick’s body was literally the shock absorber for the rhino. Carla could see the column shake with the impact. The gun that was in Rick’s hand went soaring into mass of people who were gaping at the fight.
Carla rushed forward with Petra on her heals. The red head had picked up the gun and fired it five times into the massive rhino, knocking it back as it had stood up and turned to smash the unmoving form of Rick again. It fell with a thud and a pool of blood mixed with the water that was already pooling on the floor.
Petra was faster than her. She came sliding up next to what appeared as the lifeless body of Rick. Carla came to a stop next to the red head. There wasn’t even time to think about what to do
“He’s still alive! Carla, get her.” Petra shouted as she pointed to the girl that had been held by the man in the black suit. “You,” she looked at the red head, “help me caring him out! And hurry!”
Carla grabbed the girl with the green eyes by the hand and raced out the back through the backstage exit and down the back stairwell. She was followed closely by Petra and the red head who both struggled to carried Rick. Carla assumed the red head could only be Rick’s ‘Maria’.
Sirens could be heard approaching the club. People were running and shouting all over the place. Fortunately, Carla had a place in the back where she had parked her car. There were fewer people back here. Pulling her keys out, she hit the unlock button on the remote pulled open the back door. Maria and Petra literally throw Rick’s body in like a sack of potatoes and then Maria climb in after him into the back seat.
The girl with the green eyes was climbing into the front seat. It would have been comical to see such group of attractive girls in wet sticking clothes, flat dripping hair, and running makeup if the situation hadn’t been so intense.
“Carla. Be careful but get out of here as fast as you can!” Petra called out as she slapped the top of the BMW and look in through the driver’s side window and Carla started the engine. “Your boyfriend messed with the Russians and you just don’t do that! They can bring a world of hurt and trouble. You need to get that girl out of the country if she is going to live.” She said as she motioned with her head to green eyed girl sitting in the front across from Carla.
Carla gave Petra a “thumbs-up” and the tires of her BMW squealed to life. What a crazy insane night this had turned into.
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The BMW edged out of the back alley and down a side street. Carla was trying to keep her cool and not draw attention to her car. The sirens of the firetrucks was fading now, as she weaved thru the late night traffic with ease. Maria was in the back seat with Ricks head in her lap, the new girl, whose face Carla swore looked familiar, called Monica, sat in the front passangers seat. Maria had managed to bring Rick back to a state of semi-wakefulness, he mostly murmured and groaned in the backseat. She could see why he liked the tall redhead so much, she was so much more like him then Carla was. Monica on the other hand just sat in the passangers seat, shivering in her wet clothes and staring straight ahead, the thin fabric of her dress clung to her body, accentuating every curve, and every full body shake, the goose bumps on her arms and legs threating to explode from her skin. Carla reached over and cranked on the heater to full blast, the fan noise startling the poor girl so bad she screamed.
" I'm sorry, you just looked like some warm air would do you good, I'm afraid there is nothing else to do until we can get to my place and towel off." Carla said in a smooth calming voice.
" Nooo ttthhhiiiisss iisss ggggreat, thhhhank yyyou" she stammered between clenched teeth. Monica looked over her shoulder to Maria and Rick in the backseat.
" Wwwwhy did he rescue me, I don't even know you guys, really....I just don't understand...wwwhat was he thinking...I'm afraid that this has done more harm than would have been caused if I had just gone with them." she looks almost offended that Rick saved her.
" You just don't understand this kind of man, he isn't like all the others. I guess that is what I like about him, on the other hand it can be completly annoying to have him jumping into things and making all kinds of messes. Unfortunatly for you two, youv'e just been entangled into the life of one very complicated man." Maria slumps back into her seat as Rick attempts to pull himself up, a small trickle of blood runs across his forehead, and the start of a large bruise on his cheek up to his temple is beginning to swell. Breathing deeply hurts and he hopes that no ribs were broken, the spinning lights and movement of the car make him sick to his stomach.
" Carla...quick pull the car over...now" Rick yells.
Carla swerves to the right quickly, knocking Rick into the glass window, just as he is trying to correct his balance she hits the brakes, throwing him againest the passangers seat. All this is to much for him and he throws open the door of the car just in time. The release of vomit is violent and noisey, and after three good heaves Rick pulls himself back into the car.
" Wow, what have you been drinking tonight, I've never seen you do that before." Says Maria, both surprise and disgust in her voice.
" The sad thing is that I didn't even get to drink anything at all, I'm a little worried that I might have a severe concusion...I'm experiencing some of the classic signs." Mumbles Rick as he wipes the spit from his mouth.
" Say Carla, how long has that large black Mercedes been following us ?"
"MARDE...I didn't even notice them, it must be the Russians from the club....What should we do ?"
Says Carla.
Rick went for his gun but found it was missing. Where it had gone, he couldn’t remember. In fact, he was missing about 5 minutes of action. He was guessing he got hit by something big. How he got out of that was a mystery that he was sure Maria or Carla could answer when he had time. But time wasn’t a part of the picture right now.
His head throbbed.
“You still have your gun?”
“Ya.” Maria said as he pulled it out.
“Good. Be ready. You may need it. We need to lose this tail fast.”
Rick looked at the girl in the front passenger seat. Though she was a mess right now he could tell she was expensive. He was assuming whoever was following them wanted her back and because of that, they more than likely wouldn’t open fire on the BMW. That was a maybe though.
His stomach wanted to wrench again but he held it back. He was going to need to see a doctor or someone soon. He shook his head to clear his thinking.
“Carla, turn left here?” He pointed out what appeared to be a large warehouse.
Carla took the corner sharp and fast knocking everyone around again. She was a good driver and the car raced down the dark wide alleyway. To the left a number of tractor trailers with flatbeds or trailers were lined up against the building in the state of being loaded or off loaded. There were some lights and Rick spotted a few workers but other than that there wasn’t a lot of action happening in the warehouse.
He looked back at the same time Maria did. The black Mercedes was still on their tail.
“Carla, take another left at the end of the building but slow down a bit but don’t stop. I am going to jump out and hinder our friends back there. Do a loop or something around the street and then head back down this alley the same way, only faster. I will be waiting and ready.”
Rick squeezed Maria’s hand once, and then pushed the button that rolled down the window. As Carla took the corner he readied himself. Just when the wall of the warehouse blocked his view of the pursuers he jumped out the window and rolled into a dark shadow.
“What’s he doing?” Carla shouted back.
“Letting us be the bait.” Maria smiled back as she watched him roll away and hide. She turned around and quickly buckled her seatbelt.
Rick’s plan is to jump into one of the tractor trailers and use it to ram into the Mercedes as hard as he can when it comes around the second time. After that he will see what happens.
Ricks head is pounding, his stomach is churning the darkness is his only comfort. Pressing his body againest the cold cement wall all he wants to do is sleep. Attempting to control his breathing and remain awake, he moves his eyes from left to right and up and down, keeping his brain awake, while his body stays still. The Large Black Mercedes rolls by him picking up speed. The Windows are all blacked out, but he can see only two shadows in the front seats. After the car has past he quickly makes his way to the cabover diesel that looks like the best one for the job. The door is unlocked and Rick just slides into the cab, leaning under the dash he yanks out the ignition wires and cracks open the harness. Cold cranking the old diesel it coughs out a cloud of black smoke and sputters to life, the rough idle shaking the cab violently. The vibrations in the cab are increasing his churning stomach, he'd vomit if there was anything left. Popping the Transmission in to gear just as Carla comes around the corner, the BMW is moving much faster now, the Mercedes moving in close behind as they rocket down the uneven concrete of the warehouse district, the body sway of the large black car, hinting at its heavier weight. Rick starts to edge the truck out and reeves the engine up to the redline. The Red BMW races by, the black Mercedes close behind as Rick drops the clutch, and the whole truck lurches out into the alley just in front of the Mercedes. The screaming of metal againest metal pierces the night air, as the truck smashes into the front of the car pushing it sideways and into the Cement wall of the opposite Warehouse. The truck cab smashes into the wall as well, slamming Rick into the steering wheel. Groggedly he stumbles from the passengers side of the truck, the pungent smell of gas mixed with diesel fills the air. Still recovering from the impact, Rick can see the back door slowly opening on the Mercedes.
What does he do ?
Rick’s head hurts too much to think about things in a way he usually did. He didn’t have a gun with him. He didn’t even have his knife on him. He could think of nothing big to do but that didn’t matter. He was ready to bloody up some heads. He didn’t have deadly weapons on him but he did have his feet and fists. That, and his anger. This weekend has been one long FUBAR case to the next FUBAR case and Rick was tired of it. How could so many things go wrong?
“A simple little trip with the girls.” He muttered to himself as he walked quickly over to the mashed car.
“Enjoy the weekend.” He said in a mocking voice.
“See the sights. Get a little action. Walk in the moon lit beaches!”
He waited for a figure to come out of the door. He planned to kick the door back on them hard as whoever was inside exited. It was going to be a mean fight in which he meant to teach these turkeys a lesson that he hoped the soon would not forget.
Rick walked like a madman in the dimly lit concrete street. His shoulders firmly set, even as he stumbled just a little, trying to keep his balance. The expensive black suited man has half of his body out of the car when Rick snap kicks the door, cracking it againest the shins and forearm of the Russian. The sickening sound of bone cracking in two follows as Rick repeatedly slams the door at full force again and again into his leg and arm, almost severing them. Then grabing hold of his suit he tosses him like a stuffed animal on to the pavement almost twenty feet away from the car. Leaning into the car he can see the large man in the passangers seat is completly entombed in the car, unable to move even if he was awake, the twisted metal holding him fast. The Driver started to stir a little and Rick knuckle punched him in the ear. His head slumped forward onto his chest and stayed there. Just as he was exiting the back of the car he spies the H&k 9mm of his on the floor, next to a briefcase. Yanking the briefcase out and tossing it on the ground he puts the 9mm into the small of his back. Looking over to the Russian he can see him struggling to get up, but unable to stand, his lower leg at a obtuse angle, his arm dangling at his side. Making his way over he sucker punches him, lifting his whole body off the ground. Blood is pooled all over the cement, and the Russian groggedly back pedals like a wounded crab. Terror is in his eyes as he looks around for his body guards, realizing that he is alone, absolute fear comes across his face.
" I will do, what ever you want Sir, just don't kill me..."
He pleads to you, almost groveling.
The man says all this in a thick Russian accent, and Rick swears he looks almost identical to the older human guy in the club, except younger, much younger.
The blood pooling around him is a bad sign. There is only a few minutes before he bleeds enough to pass out and then die. HE keeps looking at the briefcase, a pinkish brown leather satchel type, very european, and expensive looking. The front snap has a lock on it and the leather is tooled in some crest like design with two cranes looking at each other. The Alley is darker now thanks to the truck blocking the one street light, it is actually blocking the whole street now. The noise is bound to draw attention as well as the diesel fuel gushing from the hole in the trucks exterior tank. Ricks head is clearing a little now that the adreanaline has kicked in, but the pain in his ribs is still there.
Anger is a flash emotion that can spill over to rage. All it requires is a physical outlet, some action to serve as an energy release, even if it is just letting loose verbally. But Rick wasn’t saying anything to the man quivering on the ground. The outward appearance of anger has such intensity in the eyes and facial expression that others often retreat in total fear from a single look. Rick’s eyes had acquired a penetrating, concentrated look of murder. He stood silent before the fallen man but was cursing loudly inside his head.
No other emotion can be tied so closely to strong physical action. Smashing the truck into the beautiful polished black car had not cleared Rick of his anger, but he was in control of his action and was not letting his emotions run unchecked.
“I am going to ask you three questions and you life depends upon how you answer." Rick talks back to the man in English. How he had known to use English in the first place was concerning but it would have to wait.
"First, who are you and why are you following us? Second, why do you have my gun in your car? And third, what’s in the bag that seems so important that you just stupidly risked your life by looking at it again?”
He looks up at you confused, as his left arm is trying desperatly to stop the flow of blood from his right leg.
" You are MI-6, James Bond, yes......British spy very easy to pick out by your bad suit and gun you left at club. I brought that as a token for my father....besides you came to club with other spy...but me, you know me... I AM DRAGAN PETROVICH, son of the most feared, "Death in the Shadows". You have taken my fathers property, that which is not yours, the dark haired girl. As for the bag, I am suprised that the bomb has not gone off yet, perhaps it will at any moment.........I can not tell, I did not make it."
Ricks not sure he believes him about the bomb, the other he may believe about the girl and thinking he is a spy, but the satchel didn't feel like a bomb. To him it felt like money, lots of money......money from a really good business at a certain club he just trashed. The Russian mafia he knew little about, except that they were all humans exclusivly and that they bought and sold animorphs for black market activities.
“Petrovich, uh? Never heard of you before. Can’t say I care either."
The silencer on the 9mm muffled the ignominious end and Rick walked away. Slavers were on the exof the worst types of human scum that walked. He hoped little Dragan enjoyed an eternity in hell’s fire. Maybe Rick would meet him there someday?
So the hot weeping raven hair girl Maria was with was a sex slave; and an expensive Russian one at that. What was he going to do with her? Why had Maria wanted him to save her? He wondered if she knew something he didn’t. Maybe they could use her somehow to their advantage. Take her to London? A “hottie” like her would need protection, which was for sure. And that brought his thoughts to Carla. What was he going to do with Carla?
What a harem he was gathering. One weekend and he now had three girls to deal with. He was wished a curse on Barett that he was having just as much fun as he was having.
What was he going to do with fast speaking Carla? He didn’t know but he liked her and she seemed to like being around. Maybe she would be interested in coming back to London with them. It would be up to her but he was betting her life would be in danger now.
What a nightmare this whole thing had turned into. Someone was going to a lot of trouble to make sure things were difficult for him from the start. It all started with the missed drop and that was the main clue he was running with. Sheila and her general father had to be connected somehow.
Rick and walked over to the bag he had thrown from the car. That action alone made he suspected that it was safe, but assuming was a dangerous game to play. He employed his skills in detecting a trap and then took a peek inside.
Rick looks the bag over, there is nothing special to it on the outside. The lock is a little stuborn but gives to a frustrated yank. Inside is a small Uzi 9mm pistol with a 20 rnd. Magazine, and two stuffed bank bags. He is just about to open up when he sees Carla's BMW pull up at the end of the alley. Running down to meet her he jumps in the back seat with the satchel. Making her way to the small condo that she owns, shooting question after question at you, until you beg her to stop. Maria and Monica begin filling her in on their activities helping to piece together the last few hours of everyones evening. Rick just sits back nursing a throbbing headache and sore ribs. Luckily the ribs are starting to feel better and don't seem broken, his pupils are dialated differently and point to a concusion however.
Maria seems really concerned as does Carla and Monica, pressing you to go to a clinic to be checked out. Back at the condo Maria counts out the money on the kitchen table, stacking it in piles of each denomonation. There is just over 350,000 euros in the bag, unmarked and nonsequencial.
The condo seems really bland to you for the type of person that Carla seemed like, Raising your suspicions of her. From the hard futon like sofa you are resting on, you can see Carla packing things into a large suitcase, as Monica changes into some dry clothes. You are just about to say something to Maria about all this when your phone rings, its Barett.
"Hey, I've got the package, but looks like somebody is on to me already. I have been dogged this whole trip, just barely keeping one step ahead. Just 15 minutes ago five big hairy guys tried to ambush me. I'm beginning to suspect our friends from the island, along with a few others, who do you trust ? and can you speak freely ?"
There is a pause on the other end and you can tell Barett has been doing some running or other activity as he is catching his breath.
Rick switches over to Korean as he began to walk into another room.
“Honorable big brother, I have been ducking hunting and driving American trucks (‘ducking’ and ‘dodging’) the whole way.” Rick replies. “There is surely a snake in the grass but just because you fear maggots doesn't mean you should give up making soybean sauce. (Barett understands perfectly that Rick is just as aware that they have been compromised by someone but he added in a stupid little Korean idiom they both liked to say that basically translated as ‘don't let obstacles discourage you.”) The problem is at daytime end the bird holds and night end the mouse listens. (This was followed by “The walls may have ears”)
Rick takes one look back at the group of girls, gives them the sign that he will be just a second and then closed the door.
“I can’t talk long Honorable big brother,” still speaking in Korean, “got to get on the move. But the package shouldn’t go to the local Malta “hottie” or Spanky by my thinking. I will be bringing along a few sweet-looking extras with the looks of things plus a bonus half million dollars by my calculation. What is happening with you?”
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