Guns Will Keep Us Together (24 page)

Paris grabbed the phone book. "There are three chapels within a five-mile radius of this hotel. Let's go."

After calling the front desk and asking them to pay for and hold on to the pizza until we got back, we climbed in the car and drove to the first chapel on the list.

I'd seen chapels with Elvis impersonators, Elvira impersonators and the like. What I'd never seen was a chapel with a
Star Trek
theme. A very fat Captain Kirk look-alike in full regalia welcomed us onto the deck. The organist somewhat resembled a badly aged Uhura.

Mr. Spock performed the ceremony. I could handle the part where he did the thing with his hand and said, "Live long and prosper," but when he concluded the ceremony with, "This union is logical," I had to smother a laugh. Then Tribbles fell from the ceiling. I kid you not. I handed two hundred dollars to the organist, ignoring her weird eye tic, and we fled. The whole thing took maybe fifteen minutes.

Stunned and a little freaked out, Leonie and I stumbled out of the
Star Trek
chapel and into married life. I crushed my wife to my chest while Paris waved our marriage certificate in the dusty, arid wind to dry it.

A shot rang out and the three of us dove behind the row of parked cars. Scrambling to a crouched position, I reached for my bride only to find her in a very hot combat position aiming her gun at the alley behind us. Damn. She looked amazing. I sat down in the gravel and stared glassy-eyed at the woman of my dreams as she silently swept the alley and gave us a thumbs up.

Another shot broke my daze, and I regained my composure, creeping around the first car to check out the lot. Nothing seemed to be out of place. In fact, there were no concerned pedestrians or police sirens wailing in the distance.

Leonie appeared beside me. "It must've been a car backfiring."

Paris nodded his agreement, and we rose, holstering our weapons. We climbed into the car and drove off, circling numerous city blocks along the way to make sure we weren't followed.

"Wow," I said to Leonie. "You looked hot back there."

She turned to me with a strange look. "You've seen women do this before, right? Your mom and sister are assassins. Isn't that what you said?"

"Yes, but they never looked as good as you did just now."

"Oh for Christ's sake, Dak. Don't turn me into a sexist fantasy, or I'll have the marriage annulled."

What could I do? I nodded sheepishly and turned my attention to the road.

"I never thought I'd see the day you'd get married." Paris still looked a little shocked as we ate the pizza back in our room. "And don't even think of consummating it tonight. Wait until you get a little privacy. Please."

Leonie tore another can from the six-pack that came with the pizza. "I can't believe it either. I always had the traditional idea of a full wedding. Not a quickie on the deck of the
Starship Enterprise
." She giggled, and I melted.

It was almost as if our troubles were gone. I watched as she popped open her can. Everything she did seemed elegant. She deserved better than this.

A strange fizz came from the can Leonie opened. Blue smoke started to pour out of it, and she dropped it to the ground. Paris threw a towel over it, but it was too late. My whole body felt like it was swaying. I watched as Leonie collapsed onto the bed and Paris fell on top of her. I would have protested that arrangement, had I not already hit the floor.

 

 

 

Colour Sergeant Bourne
:
A prayer's as good as a bayonet on a day like this.
 

~Zulu

 

 

Ever have one of those days when you get married by a Vulcan in a
Star Trek
-themed chapel while on the lam in Nevada and wake up tied to a chair with your new wife and best friend in a strange room—your grandma standing over you with a .38?

Well, this was one of those days. I came to, tied rather uncomfortably to a chair. My pain was forgotten the minute I saw that Leonie was in the same situation on my right, Paris on my left. I didn't recognize the room. In fact, I had no idea if we were still in Nevada or at Santa Muerta. If so, this room was new.

The walls were a blindingly stark black-and-white tile, as was the floor. It was a very uncomfortable room. Leonie was still unconscious, but Paris was awake. Grandma stood in front of us, a brushed steel .38 in the shoulder holster she wore over a muumuu. There was no sign of anyone else in the room.

"What's going on?" I said with more than a little attitude. This was the second time in one year my grandmother threatened me, and I was getting pissed off.

"I should be asking you the same thing, Dakota." She looked angry.

"I suppose the Council is going to take action on the job?" I was really being an asshole, but this was irritating.

"Actually," Grandma tilted her head to one side, "they don't know you're here yet. I did this myself. I wanted to find out what the hell you were doing before Lou killed you."

Okay, so that was good news. Maybe I'd better wise up.

"I can't let the Council kill Leonie. I love her."

Grandma looked at Leonie. "She's the one who made a man out of you? She should get a Nobel Prize for that." She laughed. "She's really lovely, Dakota. But that's beside the point now, isn't it?"

"Where are we?" Paris asked, which was good because if he continued to remain silent, I'd deck him. Not that I could. But I would.

"Let's just say, you're safe for now. I have a safe room in my apartment. It's sound-proof, and no one knows about it. Until now, that is."

"Jesus Grandma," Paris cursed. "At least untie us if you aren't going to turn us over to the Council."

"Yeah!" I backed him up. "This is stupid. You aren't going to kill us."

She arched her right eyebrow, and for a moment she reminded me of Leonard Nimoy. "Oh? I'm not? Are you sure?"

"I am so sick of this family," I muttered. No one else had to deal with family shit like this.

"Quit pouting!" Grandma barked. "This is serious. You are in serious trouble."

Paris snorted. "Then just shoot us. Because I'm so over these dramatics."

Okay, right attitude, wrong choice of words. "Grandma, you aren't going to kill us, and you aren't going to hand us over to the Council, so just untie us."

Leonie started to stir. She opened her eyes and immediately summed up the situation as bad, and possibly bizarre.

Grandma softened. "Hello, dear. It's so nice to meet the woman who tamed my idiot grandson. You must be very special." She smiled and patted Leonie's shoulder.

Leonie shot me a "what the fuck?" look. It was strange. But if we lived, she'd eventually get used to the quirks of the Bombays.

"So, Lou, Troy, and the others don't know we're here?" Paris ventured.

Grandma nodded. "That's right. And they won't until your hearing tonight."

My ears perked up. "Hearing? What hearing?"

My grandmother rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm not going to just hand over my grandsons for termination. Of course we'll have a hearing."

"What hearing? I've never heard of the family holding any hearings!" It was true. Bombays were more likely to just shoot first and ask the dead body questions later.

"We haven't held a hearing since…" She scratched her chin. "Oh, since 1823." She cast a glance at Leonie, "Let's just say it didn't end well."

Oh, great. We were just waiting for some weird witch trial. Maybe we could talk them out of it. I couldn't think. My head ached, and I had this strange aftertaste of yellow mustard.

"What did you hit us with, anyway?" I asked.

"Just some knockout gas. I don't really want to tell all our secrets in front of an outsider and competitor." She turned to Leonie. "No offense, dear."

"Um, none taken?" Leonie responded quietly.

"I just have to figure out a way to punish you without killing all three of you. I figured time was on my side." She looked at her watch. "Unfortunately, I overdid it on the gas, and you slept too long." She pushed a button on the wall, and I watched as three hooks on heavy chains came down from the ceiling and clamped on our chairs. A light humming noise came from the floor, and I looked to see the floor open up. We didn't fall, as the chains from the ceiling lowered us to the floor of the room below. Just as the legs of our chairs touched down, the hooks disengaged and retreated into the ceiling and the room above. The ceiling closed up, leaving no trace of the secret room above.

Paris and I looked at each other. Actually, I think we were both impressed and more than a little freaked out by what had just happened.

"What is this place?" Leonie whispered as we looked around the Council's conference room.

"I don't know," I answered. "But it sounds like we have some chance to get out of this alive."

"Always look on the bright side of life, eh?" Leonie gave me a weak smile.

"
Life of Brian
?" Paris asked, and she nodded.

I was getting a little sick of movie quotes. And I was the one who started them. "Someone's coming," I whispered.

I was not at all surprised to see all five members of the Council come into the room and take a seat on the dais. Grandma was the last one in, and she made introductions of Leonie to the others. She did it with a gentleness and politeness that made it seem like we weren't actually tied to chairs about to die.

"You really screwed up this time, Dakota," Troy sneered. I hated that limey bastard.

"Actually, I think you're right." I shouldn't have answered, but I couldn't help myself. "I screwed up by not killing you last time we were here."

"Nice," Paris muttered.

"We haven't decided what to do with you yet, so quit the cowboy swagger, Dak." Dela smiled. Florence, the other European nodded.

"My life isn't for you to bargain with, Aunt Dela," I snapped. "I'm sick of all this bullshit."

"That's disrespectful, Dak." Lou's face was an alarming shade of red.

"All right, Lou," Grandma said. "We haven't decided what to do. That's what we're here for."

Damn. I really wished I wasn't tied up. A hand cannon would've been nice too. Instead, all I could do was sit there and bleed.

Troy shrugged. "What's there to decide? Dak didn't follow through on the hit. In fact, he rescued her from us. The by-laws are pretty straightforward."

Ah. So it was the Council we were running from. I guess that cleared up that mystery. Too bad I couldn't celebrate.

Lou nodded. "I agree. We shoot Dak and his lady friend. Paris gets a warning."

"I don't know about that." Dela said. "Those by-laws haven't been changed since the Middle Ages. I think there's some wiggle room here."

Flo spoke up in her French accent, "Dela is right. We have to change with the times."

I looked expectantly at Grandma, but she refused to meet my gaze. The way the Council haggled like we weren't even there really pissed me off. Grandma said her goal was to buy us some time. But she sure as hell wasn't helping us.

"Either we do as we've always done and follow the letter of the law, or we disband," Lou demanded.

"We've always followed the code. No exceptions. We can't bring back the others we've punished. We can't change things now," Troy argued.

"What about the last traitor?" Lou shouted. "My grandson was terminated for his treachery." He pointed a finger at me. "The same rules have to apply."

I was not too happy to see that his argument was starting to work on the others. I was also not too happy to be compared to Lou's slimy grandson, who tried to turn the whole family in to international authorities last fall.

"Do we get to say anything?" I yelled.

"No," Troy answered. "You betrayed the family. And Paris helped you. I think only the highest penalty should apply. All three of you should pay the price."

Leonie kept quiet, which was probably good. This was her first introduction to the extended family, and I was sure she wouldn't want to make a bad impression.

"You have to vote, Uncle Troy," Paris said. "And it looks like the women are against you."

"Be quiet, Paris!" Grandma snapped. "He's right. I'm not happy about it."

"Well, I'm so sorry to have to inconvenience you, Grandma," I said. "You almost made a mistake on me before. Do you want to make the same mistake again?"

Dela looked sad. "I'm afraid we have no choice, Dak. But I promise you we will change these rules. Unfortunately, you'll be dead, but the amendments will benefit your son."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, that makes me feel much better."

Lou turned away from me. "So, how do we finish it?"

Troy pointed at Leonie. "First, Dak has to finish the job he started. Then we take care of him and Paris."

They were going to make me kill Leonie? Bullshit on that! I wasn't about to do it. It's like that old saw you see in movies where the bad guys make the good guy dig his own grave? And he does it, thinking he's buying himself some time, but in the end, he's dead and he's done their back-breaking work for them. No way.

"Ha!" I shouted. "I'm not going to do it. You can't make me kill her." What were they going to do? Give me a gun? I'd take them out before they could react.

"Oh, you'll do it all right." Lou and Troy came down to where I was and untied one of my hands. They took a rod as long as my arm and attached it to a slot in the chair, then secured my arm to the rod. Lou took his Glock and ejected the magazine—meaning there was only one bullet left in the gun. He placed the gun in my hand while Troy used duct tape to secure it. My arm, and hand with a gun in it, like it or not, were pointed straight at Leonie.

"Well, I'm not pulling the trigger," I said defiantly. How could they make me do that?

Lou laughed. "It's remote controlled, boy. I'll actually deploy the trigger. You'll be holding the gun that kills your girlfriend. It's genius, really."

I was starting to sweat. At any moment, that sadist could push a button that would blow a large hole in Leonie's head. And I had no control over it.