eimarra | Serial: Bodyguard of Lies, episode 35: Drug Bust (Reply)

Bodyguard of Lies is a serialized science-fiction novel updating once a week on Tuesdays. If you missed last week’s episode, New Assignment, it can be found here. You can catch up on the entire serial on this page with a description of the story and links to all published episodes.

Bodyguard of Lies
Episode 35
Drug Bust

Street level in Blue looked normal — people walking along quietly, some ticket scalpers hawking the latest vocalist or box seats (forged, of course) for an arena match, air perfumed by the transit vehicles and the sheer mass of people. None of the freaking mutie stench from Green, though. Not that all muties smelled bad — the captain, she wasn’t so bad, and he was willing to bet that she smelled even better in private, not that she was ever going to give him the chance to find out.

Gena stood next to him, closer than casual acquaintance, and batted her eyelashes at him. “You want to look inconspicuous, don’t you? Act like we’re together.”

“So pushy,” he said, but slid his hand around her waist. His fingers crept lower and squeezed her ass. She giggled and scooted into his hand. She was going to be even easier than he’d hoped.

The flatfoots were positioned around the intersection, some obvious, some less so. Everything was set for the bust, if the deal went down like it was supposed to.

Right on cue, a joe dressed in a white robe like some religious nut rounded the corner. He scanned from side to side, searching for someone or something. He smiled — he must have found what he was looking for. He crossed to the ticket booth next to Johansen and Gena.

They moved closer. The guy went to the ticket window and asked, “Hey, I’m looking for zone tickets. Got any?”

“Sure thing, guy. Here you go.” The salesclerk passed him two chits; Johansen signaled for the flatfoots to move in. Johansen stepped closer, so he actually saw the guy slip a packet from his sleeve and pass it to the clerk. Got them.

Gena was on the guy before he’d gone two steps. Lucky him. He tried to fight back, but the flatfoots swooped in and cuffed him. Johansen shook him down. He confiscated the chits; he’d read them back at the station.

The ticket seller was harder to grab; metal sheets rolled down, enclosing the booth.

“What, no one brought a blowtorch?” Johansen asked.

“Hardly, but I think we can handle it,” one of the ground-pounders said. He whistled and their transport lumbered across traffic, not even slowing as it crossed into the ped zone. The transport knocked the entire booth over, uprooting it from the pavement. Sparks showered from loose electrical connections. The flatfoots pulled the ticket seller out, along with the packet of drugs.

Gena said, “Pity we have to go get them charged right now. This kind of action always makes me ready.”

Better and better. He was going to be seeing that tattoo up close and personal tonight.

“We can beat them around a bit at the station before we take off work, if you like.”

She raised one eyebrow. “Hardly in the rule book.”

She was going to make comments like that, and she wanted him to play by the rules?

“Well, we could come out and shake down some more lowlifes out here, but then Cap will want us to go back to the station.”

“You have a point there. Maybe we’ll just have to find our own action.”

For once, Johansen didn’t give a damn that Cap chewed him out for using so many flatfoots on his collar. She did agree that it was a good job and should send a message to the runners. “But don’t go screwing up the city like that again,” she said.

“Wasn’t my call.”

“You were in charge.” In his imagination, she came around the edge of her desk and sat in front of him, her legs spread wide. “That makes it your call, whether you did it or not.”

Yeah, a little muff diving on her would be nice, or maybe a little threesome with her and Gena. Oh, yeah, that would be sweet. He let the image play in his mind. “Yes, ma’am. I think that with the stuff these guys spill, though, we should be able to get the next round without them being warned ahead of time.”

“You’re not going to be in on the interrogation, Johansen.”

“Why not? You said I was in charge.”

“We have too many complaints about you and rights violations.”

Pansy-assed whiners. They didn’t like it rough, they shouldn’t break the law. The captain wouldn’t appreciate his thought, though, so he kept it to himself.

“Johansen, go home. You did good, you got a collar, you been working on that murder almost non-stop. You could use a break.”

“I’d rather work to the end of my shift.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That was an order, Johansen. I don’t want to see your face until shift starts tomorrow morning.”

He pushed his chair back and stood. “If you say so, ma’am.”

His paperwork had already been filed, but he swung by his desk anyway. He had made copies of the chits, and he’d be working on those this evening, looking for more leads. Small consolation for leaving early.

He smelled Gena before he saw her. “Captain Sala wants me to question those guys we brought in. You coming?”

He shook his head. “She’s sending me home early. Says I’ve been working too hard.”

“I get off at six. And at six-thirty, if you get to my place fast enough.”

Click here to continue reading with Episode 36, Talking to a Client.

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Originally published at Erin M. Hartshorn. You can comment here or there.