Luther plays the fiddle

     “What you gonna do, honey?”
     “TCB.”
     “What’s that mean?” Rei pulled a face.
     “Taking care of business and that’s the code. Don’t you know nothing?”
     “I know plenty, don’t you fret none. So what you gonna do? You ain’t got a lot of time.”
     “The four guys are down at the Sleeping Cobra airstrip.”
     “That’s only fifty clicks away.”
     “Yeah, I’ll send them in.”
     “Shit, Luther. But you said the Colonel ordered you to go.”
     “Rei, do I look like the goddamned hired help to you?”
     “That ain’t what I meant and you know it.” She played with the stud on the inside of her lip. Still hell of a lot a dried blood caked around in there – Grandpa had the same problem. She took her finger out. “But what happens if he don’t get taken out proper this time,” she said.
     “You stressing too much,” said Luther, staring out the glass canopy. “Now when we get to that radio station up ahead, take a left and follow the road out to Kilometre 66.”
     “Where we going?”
     “Out to the desert. Before we head out I reckon we can still make us an early morning visit to the Purple Lotus. That is, if you keep your foot down hard on that gas pedal.”
     Rei licked the blood off her finger tip. “I heard they got a new girl in,” she said.  
     “That’s what they’re saying.”
     “Mind if I watch?”
     “Only if you don’t say nothing, Rei.”

 

 

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