They stayed at the bar for another thirty minutes. It seemed Helen was having a hard time getting discharged. Damn hospitals always moved at a snail’s pace. She and Elias could probably just run out, but it would look suspicions.
It was getting loud at The Woodchuck Chuck. More patrons had come in, two locals and a few more who joined that woman’s group in the back. They were getting rowdy, as if an old, well-acquainted group. The decibels increased even more as the drinks continued to flow. One more thing Roen learned while here; never try to out-drink Marco. The Englishman was wiping the floor with him.
“Never try to keep up with an Englishman. It’s practically our national pastime.” Marco held up a glass of beer and a glass of cola in each hand. “See, it’s all in the wrists and the combo. Slam one, then the other. Rinse. Repeat.”
It hit Roen right after he finished his seventh beer. He was walking back from his fourth trip to the restroom when that crowd in the corner roared with laughter, and the woman spoke. “Daws, every family has a resident idiot, and you’re ours. It’s okay, though; you’re my idiot, so I’ve got your back.”
Roen stumbled. That voice again. That awkward fit in her suit. She wasn’t a stout woman; she was wearing armor. Then he realized who she was. Blood drained from his face as he sat back down at the table.
Marco gave him a quizzical look. “You all right there, Roen? You’re looking a little shaky.”
Roen motioned with his head back toward that group. “Get your stuff together. We should leave. Those guys back there are IXTF.”
Marco angled a very obvious look their way. “Well, Ahngr and I had devised a plan to take them out earlier when you seemed to be within their cross-hairs. Seems we still might have to put it in action then.”
“Take out the big one second from the right first?” Roen asked.
Marco nodded. “The strong looking bloke. How did you find out?”
“Her voice. I’ve taunted that woman mercilessly over the past three years. She’s Special Agent Kallis, Regional Director of the IXTF. Supposedly, she’s a big shot at Interpol.”
Marco whistled. “Seems you do have a talent for pissing off the right people. Fancy meeting her at a place like this.”
“Could only mean one thing. She’s come for Prie.”
The two watched out of the corners of their eyes as Kallis got up and went to the log counter again, presumably to order another round of pitchers.
“I think I’m going to talk to her right now,” Marco said, standing up.
“Don’t do it. It’s too risky.”
“Keep your enemies closer,” the Brit grinned as he sauntered over to Kallis and struck up a conversation.
The only thing Roen heard was “sorry about my friend over there” and then laughter. He scowled as Marco did that Marco-thing of his for the next fifteen minutes. Then, much to his chagrin, Marco brought Kallis back to the table.
“Ralphy, old boy,” Marco said, mouth turned up from ear to ear. “I believe you’ve already met Special Agent Fran Kallis from the, I’m sorry, what was your MI6 American equivalent again?”
Kallis laughed and stuck out her hand. “IXTF, and we’re not American. It’s an international task force. Sorry about that rough introduction earlier. I see a lot of creeps in my line of work, so it’s sort of an automatic defensive reaction.”
Roen plastered a smile on his face as he shook her hand. “No, it’s all right,” he said in a gruff voice. “It was totally my bad.”
“So Cornelius tells me you guys are business partners out here.”
Roen almost spit out his beer.
“Yes,” Marco butted in quickly. “Redwood lumber is highly sought after over in the UK.”
“It’s a long way to go to buy wood,” Kallis said.
“Well, we like to cut out the middle man,” Roen said, playing along, “and source from the um, source.” That didn’t come out as smoothly as he had hoped.
Fortunately, Kallis didn’t dig deeper, and they moved the conversation back to her. It seemed Marco made a good call making contact with Kallis. She and her team had made the six-hour drive from their headquarters in Seattle to retrieve an injured fugitive at the hospital across the street. Once the guy stabilized, they were going to bring him back for interrogation.
“So how long will you be in town, then?” Marco asked, turning his flirt on.
“Whenever the doctors give us the green light,” she said. “Probably a week. Until then, I’m putting my guys, those meatheads back there -” she gestured at the back table. They waved. “- on guard twenty-four-seven.”
“What did the guy do?” Roen asked. “Is he dangerous?”
Kallis was understandably evasive in her response. “I really can’t get into it, Ralphy.” She paused. “You know, now that I think about it, there’s something familiar about you.”
Roen coughed and lowered his voice even more. “I think I was just mistaken.”
“Anyway,” Marco’s laugh was a little forced. “We have to get to an appointment with the lumberjacks soon.” He made a show of patting his pants. “I seemed to have forgotten my business cards. May I be honored with your mobile?”
Kallis was too tough to titter, but for a second, she looked like she almost did. Her face flushed a little red and she handed him a card. “You ever get up to Seattle, Cornelius?”
“Our next stop actually,” he said. “I won’t have to wait until next week, will I?”
Kallis looked around the bar. “Guess your company will help pass the time in this small town.” She flashed him one last smile, finished her wine, and then walked back to her table.
Once they were alone, Roen leaned toward him. “Ralphy? I sort of hate you right now.”
Marco, all grins, looked at Roen and winked. He picked up his glass and downed it. “That’s nine beers.”
“And Cornelius? What kind of dumb ass cover name is that?”
“Wanted to feed her stereotype. That’s all. Regardless, we have good intel now and the access we need. I suggest we take advantage of this opportunity.”
Roen nodded. “A week is a little shorter than we had planned, but if we play our cards right, she’ll at the very least tell you when she’s leaving town. We won’t have to guess. You just need to work that relationship while we’re here. Good job.”
“Someone has to do the hard work,” Marco smirked. Roen wanted to punch the smug look off his face.
Let it go. Marco has always been like this. He is purposely pushing your buttons. Do not fall for it.
Roen listened to his inner Tao and did his best to shrug it off. Marco and Roen drove off in the car, giving every impression of heading for their meeting, then parked up in a quiet layby and waited to hear from Helen and Elias, who called in a few minutes later. They had finally checked out of the emergency room and were heading to the station wagon.
Marco sniffed as they drove back to the hotel. “I’ll never pass as a businessman to Fran in this infernal contraption. What do you think about driving down to Boise and picking up a real automobile for me?”
This time, Roen didn’t listen to his inner Tao and thumped Marco on the shoulder.
22 Cleansing
Certain groups within the once-unanimous collective insisted that if humanity was allowed to prosper, innovation would come as well. Every experience I have had with this species, from the stagnation of the Roman Empire to the world-cleansing fire of the Black Plague, showed me that was not the case.