Mac and Victor were ignoring one another this morning. Li Ann couldn't decide whether that was a good or a bad thing. Suddenly, Mac started, "You know, cop, there's more to life than following the rules."
"Forget it, Mac. You aren't getting me involved in this scheme," Vic responded. It had to be the continuation of some fight she'd missed the first half of. Again, she wasn't sure if she was pleased about that or not.
"You enjoyed stealing the painting. You know it and I know it."
"That’s not what we're talking about."
"Yes, it is. You know that breaking the rules gives you a kick."
"Mac…"
"And the bribe money. You've broken the rules."
"And it always comes back to bite me. I am capable of learning from my mistakes, which is more than I can say for you."
"Children," the Director snapped as she cracked her riding crop on the table. "Play nicely, or mama will have to spank." Victor and Mac both leaned back into their chairs. "That's better. Over the past five months runaways have been turning up dead. I want it to stop. The method is the same in each death, only the minor details change. The child is drugged, then tortured to death. The victim is conscious until death, but unable to cry out."
"The drug paralyzes the muscles or they are gagged?" Victor asked. His eyes were distant, as if he were attempting to figure out something complex.
"They were gagged, but the report indicates that they were paralyzed as well. The gag was a precaution, possibly there just for the look of it."
"Have they found the films?"
"No. None have turned up. There are restraint marks on the wrists and ankles. They were suspended by one or the other at some point. The marks from the torture are under their clothing. They are redressed afterward."
"The RCMP isn't involved?"
"They haven't found any leads in five months. We are stepping in. You won't have to deal with them. There's a profile included in the reports. I'd rather have you write one blind from the evidence and compare them." Victor nodded, oblivious to the stares from his partners. "There are pictures as well. I want Victor and Mac undercover on the streets. Li Ann, you will be doing the legwork and providing a drop point for information. Once the two of you are on the streets you will not be allowed back until this… creature is stopped." The team members looked at her in shock. Being cut off was a shock to the two thieves. They'd gotten used to the Director's interference. Victor merely accepted her orders. He rubbed at the scar on the inside of his right wrist. He knew that was where she'd implanted one of the tracers. He wondered idly if the others were similarly tagged. He met her eyes. She'd find his body if nothing else. She'd take care of his sister. He nodded and gathered the files up. "Dismissed." The other two agents followed him out of the office as she climbed the stairs to… where ever they led.
"Write a profile? What the hell is she talking about?"
"The Agency trained me as an FBI profiler for an assignment. I have a knack for it. Supposedly, you either can or can't profile well. The trainers said I was good enough to work for the FBI or RCMP if I wanted to."
"So you chose to stay with the Agency?" Li Ann suggested as they walked to the side room they used for their own conferences.
"Do you seriously believe that the Director has let me make a choice in years?" he snapped. "I've been working for her since 1991. Since before there was a price on Mac's head. She takes possessiveness to new levels. Some day I'll find something from my past that she doesn't have written down in her files." He gave them a little laugh. "And probably die from the shock of it."
Mac stared at the older man. "What's wrong, Vic?" he asked. The ex-cop shrugged. They settled down at their table and closed the door.
"Runaways always get to me. Especially when they are found tortured to death. And there's no evidence that this person is selling tapes of the deaths, so it's a personal thing. Someone is pissed off. I have to see the pictures, but my guess is they're trying to correct something from the past. To teach these… Sweet Jesus!"
"What is it?" Victor threw the picture down and it slid to his partner's waiting hand. "God," Mac breathed and then handed the picture to Li Ann. Her hand shook as she put it down.
"Are all of them… like him?" she asked
"Yes. They've all got similar marks, similar faces. Someone's looking for a specific person. Someone out of their past. Her past."
"'Her?' Aren't most killers male?" Mac interjected.
"Statistically. But then again, there are so many unsolved cases that could easily be women. And this involves a drug, which would make it easier for a woman to take control of the situation. Also, these boys were on the upper end of the age range. They weren't as marketable any more."
"What?" Li Ann asked.
"As prostitutes. The older a boy gets, the less and less marketable he is. Women have a much longer shelf-life. Male prostitutes do much better younger. Once you hit about 17 you are far too old for most tricks. The tricks you do pick up are harder edged than before. You're more likely to die or get beaten up by your trick."
"I didn't know that."
"Yeah, there's a lot of things you didn't learn, Mac." Li Ann looked uncomfortable at the turn in the conversation and readjusted her sweater. "Runaways aren't going to talk to cops."
"Who would they talk to? I mean who is going to protect them?"
"Not the cops. There really isn't anyone who protects a runaway. Hell, no one protects prostitutes. So we need to establish a meeting place that isn't going to tag us as some form of law enforcement. There's a nightclub downtown that is safe. I know the owner. She'll let us meet in her back room, if we approach this right. I'll call her and set it up. We'll meet once a week, Friday nights. If we don't show by 11, Li Ann will call the Director and alert her."
"Who died and left you in charge?" Mac snapped.
"Do you know these streets? Do you have any clue how to survive on them? We won't be put up in some cushy hotel unless we make the money out there. We have to look legitimate. Neither of us can pass as a runaway of the right age, but we have to be able to get them to trust us enough to tell us when their friends disappear."
"So they have to see us as what? Parents?"
"No. Just old enough to have survived on the streets longer than they have. Someone who can give them advice on which cops to avoid and where most stings go down. People who are in tune with the gossip and have the skills to survive outside the law."
"And you, the cop, is going to be that person?"
"There's more to me than a cop, Mac. You've said so yourself. I can survive on the streets. Can you? No ATM's. No credit cards. No pretty toys. No fancy clothes. Can you sleep when the cold starts to bite into your toes? When you're shivering so hard you nearly batter yourself into unconsciousness? Can you walk away when everything in you screams to save the person you're watching die? Can you fleece only enough people to survive, so you don't get rolled yourself? Can you do that? I have to know, Mac. Can you do it?"
"I haven't lived on the streets since I was eleven. I never wanted to go back to it, but I am not weak, Victor. I can and have done everything to survive." Mac's usual grin was gone. He met the appraising green eyes for a long sober moment. Then, Vic gave him a sharp nod.
"Fine. First step. Shopping. I don't know if you have anything in your closet that will be useful, but we'll start there. Do you have a backpack?"
"Yeah," Mac said softly.
"Good. I'll write up a profile. You go pack. Meet me at my apartment. The lock's still the same. Your copy should still work."
"How did you know I had a copy made?"
"Why do I change the locks every three weeks?"
"Fuck."
"Nope," Victor said with a grin.
"Fine. I'll wait. I'm making dinner tonight."
"Not with my pans. Call out."
"Whatever."
"Li Ann, can you pass me that stack of pictures?" She handed over the ME's stills.
"I really don't understand why we're taking this case instead of the mounties. I thought our job entailed only dealing with terrorists and threats to national security."
"This may all relate back to some misguided Agency employee or some mastermind criminal that we have to catch. Or it could be that these are the Agency's finest hunting grounds. Runaways and throwaways are always in demand for dangerous jobs and retraining. Also, for experiments and other things. If their crop is getting cut down by an outsider they may not like it. The best policy is not to question the Director. She always seems to know what's going on in the end."
"Six years before you met me?"
"Six and one half years, Li Ann. Seven years before Mac Ramsey showed up to mess my head up. Seven years and one month before he had managed to make it so unbearable that you decided that you didn't want to get married," Vic sing-songed. His eyes were a bright green. "I did have a life before you came along. I'll have one now that you're gone. If I lost you both tomorrow…" he shook his head. I'd find a way to go on, he completed in his head. "Let's just get this case done."
"You mentioned something about the Director having something written down in your file?"
"I ran away when I was 15 almost 16. I lived on the streets for a while before I went to the Academy."
"Vic?"
"Let it go, Li Ann. It was a bad time. I can put it away. I use those skills every time I interrogate a suspect, every time I write a profile or figure out the best way to go undercover. Part of me wonders if this is just some sick, twisted plan of the Director's to make Mac and I get along. You know, having to work together to survive. An urban survivalist trip or something."
"Those bodies are real."
"I know that."
*****
"So, Mansfield, do I pass inspection?" Mac sneered. He was wearing jeans and a tee-shirt. Victor looked him up and down critically.
"You'll do." Victor was dressed in black. Black jeans that had a small hole at the knee. Tattered combat boots and a tee-shirt. He also had a cheap denim backpack with supplies. He had a blanket and a jacket. He was carrying only a knife. No guns. He'd gone through his partner's pack with critical scrutiny. He was pleased to see the common sense packing.
Dinner was a pizza, filling, but not healthy.
*****
The first night was sheer hell. It was much colder than Mac could remember Hong Kong being, although he was sure that he was just imagining things. Victor seemed comfortable enough. He was still awake though. He watched Mac like a hawk. Finally, he sighed. "Come here."
"What?"
"I'm not going to maul you. Just share some body heat and blankets. Come on." The huddled together and finally fell asleep. The morning was sharp and bright. Vic used a pen-knife to shave and watched Mac figure out how to do the same.
"I just want you to know that I think this is a sadistic plot by the Director," Mac informed him.
"Shhhh. Don't say the d-word so loud. She might hear you," Vic teased. His eyes were a dancing green today. "So, first stop, gossip time! We're going to the Fox's Den. That's where we're going to be meeting Li Ann."
"I thought that was a nightclub. Thus, open at night?"
"It's a club, but she opens for lunch. It's hard for an honest businesswoman to make money these days." Vic rolled his eyes. "It's been the meeting place for years. No cops allowed."
"Not even you."
"I'm special. I've known the owner for a very long time. Since before my force days." He clapped his partner lightly on the back. "Come on. Let's go. If we're lucky she'll feed us lunch." Mac blinked at the change in Victor's face. Gone was the serious man who'd been testing him the night before. He'd never seen the man smile so broadly. He sauntered down the street, taking great glee in pointing out landmarks to his partner. There was some genuinely useful advice thrown in with the light gossip, like where the cops traditionally hung out and which drug dealers were the most deadly. Mac trusted in his partner's seemingly endless capacity for remembering people and files and just stored away what he thought was relevant.
The Fox's Den was shabby on the outside, plastered with torn posters and announcements, mixed with graffitti and gang tags. The inside was clean, if smoky. An old jukebox sat in the corner cranking out the blues that Victor loved so much. To his surprise Victor walked right up to a black woman with an impeccable royal blue suit and perfectly manicured nails and promptly kissed her full on the mouth. She squealed as she stood up. "Baby! You're back! Girls! Look who's back from his gig for the city." Victor dropped a perfect bow to the hookers who were obviously getting ready for the lunch crowd early.
"Ladies, may I present my newest partner in all sorts of crime, Mac Ramsey. Please feel free to pick on him as you choose. He's new to the town, recently of the Hong Kong prison system. Don't hurt him too badly or I'll never hear the end of it." The ladies looked him up and down appreciatively and Mac felt as if he'd just fallen into another reality.
"Uh, Vic?"
"Oh, Baby, he just doesn't know you very well does he?" the woman laughed. "Mac, I'm Vixen. I'm the owner of this fine establishment. What would you like for lunch?"
"Just about anything would go down really well. Vic doesn't seem to be big on breakfast." Her face softened and she caught the older man around the waist in a one armed hug.
"No, he never was. Now, you two sit down. And be good!" She tapped Vic on the nose and whispered into his ear. "We have business to take care of." Vic took a seat in her booth and leaned against the wall. He let one leg stretch out along the back of the bench seat and settled the other one on the floor. His smile was smug. Mac was floundering like a fish out of water and Vic was just sitting there and smiling.
Mac took a seat across from his partner and hissed, "What the hell is going on here?"
"Relax, Macky-Boy, Vixen's fixing us lunch. The gossip just started that I'm back on the town. These ladies are the center of gossip for the city underground. We go visit some of my old haunts and get some advice on where the new meat stays and which nightclubs they frequent. We find out where they like to hang out. Which places have the lowest cop problems. Make a little money too, if we play it right."
"Uh, Vic, what exactly are you planning?"
"Nothing you aren't comfortable with, Boy-o." Vic reached over and flicked his ear.
"Hey!"
"You'll do fine. Just don't get greedy." Vixen settled down quite casually comfortable between Vic's legs. She leaned across the table and studied Mac's face.
"He's a thief."
"A very good one too."
"How'd you get out, Baby?" she asked Vic as she watched his partner.
"Found a bitch of a PO who could manipulate the system. I'm free and clear as long as I don't cross her."
"Organized crime?"
"Something like it I suppose. She seems to have some strange sort of conscience."
"You need a place, Baby? You look like you slept rough last night."
"Yeah. We did," Vic answered softly. "Vixen, a girl's gonna come here. She's gonna know the password. Can you let her use a back room?"
"Sure, Baby. I'll fix you up with a cheap place too. Looks like you two just had a reversal of fortunes."
"Yeah. We're cut off for a while. 'til we bring in someone. Have to find the person first."
"That bitch of a PO not treating you right, Honey?"
"She's testing right now."
"That still doesn't make it right. Haven't you complained to the system?"
"Darling, I'm lucky I'm alive at all. I went to prison as a cop. Do you have any idea how short my life would have been if they'd put me in general population?"
"I know, Baby. Have you heard from China?" she asked suddenly. Victor shook his head with a sad smile.
"I haven't seen him since he started shooting up. Rumor had it that he'd found a rich daddy, but who knows. He was pretty enough to attract attention and with all the heroin chic bullshit that was going on, he could have convinced people he was a model."
"True. It still bothers me. He never turned up in the morgue?"
"No. He just left."
"No way to run a family, believe you me. Now you two eat up. I'm going to take care of the lunch crowd. Don't you dare disappear on me, Mansfield," she ordered.
"Uh, Vic, what exactly is going on here?"
"I told you."
"No, you glossed over a bunch of information and fed a line of bull so deep that I'm amazed you kept a straight face saying it to a lady, who I'm not sure is a lady."
"Don't talk about the Foxy-lady that way. She's a woman through and through. No matter what equipment she was born with."
"And this, ladies and gentlemen, is Victor Mansfield's sexual confusion explained. So you lived with her and this China?"
"Vixen, China, Barrett and Chief. My old gang. We got Barrett into a good foster family before too long. He'd been on the streets with Vixen since he was seven. She'd saved him from some miserable bitch who wanted to trick him out. Chief got in one fight too many and ended up in prison. China disappeared. Vixen and I kept in touch, but how much could I tell her? She was not pleased when she read the report in the newspaper about me being busted. Of all the things in my checkered past, dealing was never one of them. She was my only supporter in the courtroom. I actually think that Chief was recruited by a crime family, but I don't know. Now eat. She has an excellent cook." Mac blinked at the grinning green-eyed man.
"Who are you and what have you done with my partner?"
"Mac, I'm ashamed of you. I worked Vice. Did you really think I couldn't handle a situation like this?"
"Nevermind. What's the plan?"
"I told you that too, weren't you listening?"
"You glossed over a lot of things. Implied a money making scheme, which by the looks of things I'm not going to enjoy and started telling your long lost friend here a story."
"Macky-boy, you are far too tense. Play it by ear. I told you. You don't have to do anything you aren't comfortable with. Pick a pocket here or there. Feed someone a wonderful line and pull them into a honey trap. We get known. We watch out for the young ones and find out where they hang. We protect them when we can and they'll latch on to us. That's how it works. I've got credentials. You'll be accepted because I named you as my partner. Don't worry."
"You are not making me comfortable."
"What's the problem?"
"I've never seen you act so…"
"Like a slut?" Vixen completed the sentence as she sat down. "Baby's very good at putting on masks. I've never been sure what he likes or doesn't. He is right though. The girls will spread the word that Baby's back in town and you'll have more gossip than you can handle. Our boy had quite the reputation for taking care of underage hookers. He got them out. Got them in. And kept the cops off of their tails."
"Sounds like Vic to me." Victor winked at him, no at Vixen. There was some shared joke there and she nodded.
"Oh, yes, give me your weak and your hungry. Victor should have been American. He always cares too much. It's gotten him into a lot of trouble over the years."
"It's kept me human when there was nothing else that could. Now, where shall we go first, Mac? Sightseeing or bar hopping?"
"What?" Mac missed the sequence of topics. "Would you just calm down for a second? How the hell should I know? As you so often remind me, this is your territory."
"Finally, something takes. It's taken him long enough. Is there someplace we can crash until this afternoon?"
"Stay until the dinner crowd. My place is upstairs. The lock shouldn't be a problem for two talented young men like yourselves. Sleep well, Baby." She kissed Vic's cheek and went to tend to other guests again. Mac cocked his head to the side.
"Baby?" he asked. "Is there something you want to tell me?"
"What could you possibly mean?"
"She calls you 'Baby' like it's your name."
"To her it is. Don't you try it though. I'll take you're tongue out."
"Threats, Victor? You're slipping. The Director won't like hearing you're becoming more and more like me every day."
"One thing I am not, Ramsey, is like you." One of the hookers stopped by the booth. Her platinum blonde hair was up in ponytails and her eyes were emphasized with body glitter. She was trying to look like a teenager, but it was obvious that she wasn't.
"Hey, Baby, you working again? China's regulars were looking for you."
"For a few weeks at least. A limited time engagement. Tell them to check out China's old haunts. You never can tell."
"Okay, Baby. I'll spread the word."
Mac longed for his sunglasses. It would have made the incredulous look he shot Vic down his nose that much more impressive. "So, Baby, where are we going?"
"Finish your lunch. Then we'll crash up at Vixen's. Catch a shower, that sort of thing and head out on the town. I've got a list of places to check. And don't call me 'Baby.'"
"No problem, Baby. What's that short for anyway? Babydoll? Babyface?"
"Pretty Baby," Vixen said as she passed by.
"Sometimes I really hate that woman," Victor muttered.
"Oh, there's just got to be a story attached to this one. Talk fast, Mansfield, or I plaster it all over the Agency."
"Mac, Mac, Mac," Victor chided shaking his head. "Who do you think started the rumors about you? They're just going to think that you wised up and are trying to get even."
"Those are your fault?" Mac growled.
"Oh, what a sexy growl you have there, Sweety," the platinum blonde said returning from the bathroom. "And have you been telling stories, Baby? That's not nice," she chided.
"Now, Candy, what exactly did you want?" Victor asked pleasantly.
"I missed you."
"I'm broke."
"You won't be for long. I know you." Victor rolled his eyes.
"How much do you need, Candy?"
"Two hundred. I want to visit my mother, she's sick."
"You still working for the asshole with the velvet fetish?" Candy laughed and shook her head.
"No, there's a new one." Suddenly, she got very serious. "None of the other cops care, Baby. No one looks. They turn away. The new Vice squad is more interested in drugs than sex. They just walk away."
"They always did, Candy. They always did, but Narcotics is supposed to be covering the drug crimes," Victor frowned. "Not that they do it right, but they are supposed to be in charge of that."
"They don't arrest any of the big dealers. Not a clean one in the bunch, Baby." Vic looked down at the table. He toyed with the slice of pickle on the edge of his plate. "Thanks," she said finally.
"Of course." She left the men alone.
"Does everyone here know?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'll talk to you in private. You done?"
"Yeah." They escaped to the apartment over the bar. It was a homey little place, not exactly what Mac would have pegged the sophisticated woman with. It seemed much more like Vic's style. Victor dropped onto the couch. "Now," he drawled, "what exactly did you want to ask me, oh scandalized partner of mine?"
"Does everyone in this fucking town know you as a cop?"
"That would be disgraced cop. And most of the people downstairs know me as more than just a cop. But I walked this beat as well as working it."
Mac stomach dropped. "Please don't tell me that what you're telling me is what you're telling me."
"Only as much as you can handle, Macky-boy. I'm going to take a shower. Then, I'm going to sleep. I'd suggest you do the same. I was a pickpocket, Mac," he said as he moved towards the bathroom.
"Tset." "And Mac, I do understand Cantonese curses. Li Ann answered enough questions on them."
Mac just snorted.
*****
"So, we're going to hang around some clubs and that's supposed to get us information? Great plan, Boss. Really, I mean it."
"Shut up, Mac." The nightclub bouncer blinked and then waved Vic through. He stopped Mac with a hand. "He's with me." That got him let in, though with a look that stated he was not up to their standards. The room was not what Mac had expected. The music was loud, the lights strobing, and the air stuffy. It was a nightclub. An honest to God nightclub and Victor Mansfield was weaving in and out of the dance floor with a feline grace that he usually only displayed when he was fighting. He stopped at the bar and waited for Mac to catch up with him. Before Mac could get there an older man had sidled up to his partner and was whispering something into his ear. Vic shook his head and the man seemed to deflate. Vic spoke into the man's ear and the man left with a smile. Mac grabbed Vic's arm and looked around them. "Go dance," Vic said. "Introduce yourself if anyone asks, but keep it light. Listen more than you talk." Mac grinned and made his way onto the dance floor.
By half an hour later, Mac was leaning against the far wall watching his partner holding court at the bar. The men and women around him were showering him with drinks. One that particularly irritated Mac for reasons he couldn't understand was the man who was "absently" stroking Victor's neck. Vic seemed to be reveling in the attention and leaned into the touch like a cat.
Vic kissed the blonde who had just looked down at her beeper with a frown. He didn't give her a peck on the cheek, he pulled her between his splayed legs and proceeded to breathe for her while his hands strayed down her back and slipped something out of her purse and then rubbed back up until they landed in her hair and rested there for a moment. She waved to him as she wove her way out of the club. He displayed the little packet he'd taken from her purse and collected what appeared to be the results of a bet from the rest of his court. He met Mac's eyes with the biggest grin he'd ever displayed. He crooked a finger at the younger agent who felt as if he were on an invisible string. He moved straight through the crowd and they seemed to part for him. Vic mimed pulling in a rope until Mac stood right in front of him.
"May I present, Mac Ramsey. My current partner."
"You make a good pair," the irritating petter stated. "I'm sure I'll have need of your services soon. Being here does mean you're back in business doesn't it, Pretty?"
"Always. First come first serve. I'll be around China's old haunts. And of course, Vixen always knows how to get a message to me. We're going to make the rounds tonight. I'll talk to you tomorrow?" Vic purred, gathering them all with his eyes. They nodded. The petite red-head with the no nonsense business suit held up a twenty between her fingers and stepped between the partners. Vic gave Mac a wink. He kissed the woman senseless. The petter seemed to be very amused by Mac's codfish imitation. Vic clapped Mac on the shoulder and led him out of the club, throwing a wink back over his shoulder.
On the street Vic started, "What's the matter, Macky-boy? You've never seen someone kiss before?"
"I have never, ever seen you so casual about having someone touch you."
"You haven't seen the Director in a possessive mood before?" Victor blinked, then thought about when Mac had joined the team. "No, I guess you haven't." They walked down the street side by side and unthinkingly in step, despite the saunter that Victor seemed to have picked up.
"Possessive? Like, 'all your time is my time, Victor' possessive?"
"Yeah, like that. Except she strokes through my hair as she's lecturing me on exactly what she will do to me if I disobey her." A scream cut off the conversation. Neither of them could ignore that summons. Victor reached the scene first and shoved Mac into the arms of a group of prostitutes. "Keep him out of it. No matter what!" Vic ordered sharply.
The uniformed figure was beating up the youngest woman on the block. She was barely in her teens with face made up with too much make-up and skirt too short for her age. He held her easily with one hand as he slapped her. "Now listen you little cunt. You will give me what you…"
Victor tapped him on the shoulder. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he hissed. The cop whirled on the intruder and then his lips drew back into a feral grin.
"Well, well, well, if Victor Mansfield champion of the gutter hasn't returned from the dead. They should have let you die in prison, you miserable cocksucker."
"Well, since I don't have to beat teenage girls to prove I'm a man, I'll just ignore that." He released the girl's arm and she ran towards to huddled group.
"Listen up, Mansfield. You're not a cop anymore. Dirty as hell. Did you enjoy prison, bitch? How about I send you right back?"
Victor shrugged. "I met more men at the Crazy Nannies," he sneered, naming a local lesbian bar. The cop snarled.
"Remember my name, boy," he hissed. "Carson. Dick Carson."
"I don't see any dick here." The first blow missed as Vic stepped out of its path. Carson threw him against the wall. Victor put his hands to the man's chest as if to push him back and braced for the follow-up blows he knew were coming. He dropped to the ground when he was released after two driving gut punches. He curled his arms around his face and let the man work out his frustrations. A siren startled him and he left the scene.
Mac skidded to a stop by his partner and carefully touched his hand. "Vic? You okay?"
"Oh, I'm fine. A couple of broken ribs at worst, but they've been broken so often I doubt that they did anything more than bruise. He's not that strong."
"What the fuck were you thinking!" Mac snapped. "He could have killed you. Why the hell didn't you want me to interfere?"
"He was a cop. I didn't want him to get a good look at your face, mudilo! We can't afford for you to be recognized by some idiot and run in for something or a report sent back to Hong Kong! Every club I've taken you to is so anti-Asian it isn't funny. Li Ann would get killed in most of them!" Victor hissed. The sound of footsteps made him look up. His face went completely blank in shock as the foot patrolman stooped down to check on him.
"Barry?"
"Victor? Holy shit? You okay?"
"I'm fine, Kiddo. Just fine. Better seeing you though. Mac, give me a hand up." Vic pushed himself up half-way and used Mac's arm to get to his feet. "This your territory?" Vic asked. "And when did you decide to become a cop? Last I heard you were going to be a doctor."
"I discovered I had a horrible sense of justice. Just like someone else I know. I heard about the set-up, Vic." Vic blinked at him. Then, he smiled.
"It's over. I'm alive. I'll survive."
"But as what? China never wanted to trap you here."
"I'm not trapped. I'm here by choice. Sort of. Anyway, this is Mac Ramsey. Mac Ramsey, Barrett… what is your last name?"
"Mansfield." Vic's smile beamed.
"Barrett Mansfield."
"A pleasure," Mac said holding out a hand. Barrett ignored him, gaining him a glare from his self-appointed older brother.
"What the hell happened, Vic? This is not…"
"A bastard with a badge decided to beat up on a girl. I decided not to let him and got myself knocked around. It's not a problem, Barrett. Let it go… well, except for this." Victor handed the man's badge to the young cop.
"You got his badge?"
"He didn't seem in the mood to tell me his badge number." Barrett shook his head.
"Here. This is my number. If you need anything. And I mean anything. Call me."
"Sure, Kiddo." Barrett put out his hand. Vic took it. It was the first time they'd ever been equals. Barrett had been placed when he was twelve and Vic had been his big brother. China had gone missing and Chief got arrested. Vixen and Victor had stood at the front of his foster home with the social worker and wiped his tears. It seemed like weeks not years ago, right then.
"Remember. Beethoven's Fifth."
"Beethoven's Fifth, Barry," Vic whispered and the young man left. Vic wavered and Mac slipped a hand around his waist.
"Whoa, Pal. You're not doing quite as well as you think."
"Shhhh. Wait until Barry's gone. I can't get him involved in this." The tallest woman there stalked over on five inch heels. Her hair was teased into high bangs and filled with glittering gel. She seemed to be the oldest woman there though. She looked Vic up and down critically.
"You really need to talk to that P.O., Pretty. You look like shit."
"You're welcome." She gave him a twisted smile.
"Bitch."
"Takes one."
"Welcome back."
"I'd say it was good to see you, but I'd be lying."
"Who you working for?"
"My P.O. She's got a hang-up. Doesn't like seeing pretty little things get killed."
"So she sends you in? That was fucking brilliant," the hooker snorted. "I'm Tansy, and you are?"
"Mac."
"Take good care of our boy here, Mac, or else."
"That could be interesting," Mac flirted. Tansy had nothing on the Director. Vic smacked the back of his head. "Oh, so I'm not allowed to flirt?"
"Could get you in trouble around here. People seem to take you at your word." The gleam was back in Vic's eyes and Mac found himself smiling in spite of his worry.
"Not one of yours, Pretty. They always end up costing you more in the end." Vic blinked innocently at her. "So, you at Vix'?"
"If I'm not there, she'll know where to find me."
"If I hear anything, I'll let you know. Stop this bastard."
"I will. Tansy, what's the new spot?"
"For?"
"Fresh market."
"The docks."
"Shit!"
"Yeah, the cops are cracking down. They've closed up all the safe shops. The mayor's putting pressure on the badges and they strong arm us."
"And they wonder why the murder rate goes up," Vic said bitterly. "That's as good as sending a Jew into a concentration camp. Bastards."
"They lost the best they ever had." She kissed Vic full on the mouth. "Watch yourself."
"Ditto."
"Okay, that was unpleasant. We are getting you someplace where I can make sure you aren't bleeding and you can sit down and tell me the truth. This is a hell of a lot more than one year in Vice, Victor!"
"Oh, Macky-Boy, you have such a limited imagination. There's so much more we can do tonight than play, Doctor."
"Okay, are you stoned or something?" Mac asked a hint of desperation entering his voice. Vic was ruffling agent's hair with a meditative rhythm.
"No, Macky-boy. I'm sober. Come on. I've got so much to show you. Then, we can go poke around the docks if you get bored. Set up my rep with the new flesh. The rumors will be running rampant by tomorrow. I haven't had this much fun in ages. Well, since the wench dumped me."
"Hey!" Mac squeaked.
"You have to admit that it was a shitty way to tell a guy it's over. Come on, we had fun that night."
"You had fun. I nearly got killed by a pissed off drug dealer."
"Yeah, that was fun. Come on, it's all in fun."
"All in fun? All in fun? Man, we have got to get you away from the Director."
"She's not that bad, Mac. Come on, there's a couple of clubs I want to hit."
"I think it would be better if we got you someplace where I could check these bruises."
"You worry too much, Macky-boy. The ribs'll heal. They always do. Come on." Victor dragged the resisting thief to the street. Tansy laughed at Mac as they passed.
"Just buckle up, Sweetie, and go for the ride. Pretty's in a mood and he won't rest until he gets his way," she called out.
"It's just that he always gets his way," Mac whined. Vic hopped up and across a window sill and Mac stopped dead staring. The man who was moving with perfect cat-thief balance was not the cop that bristled at him across from the room or even the man who he trusted to watch his back. He'd never seen Vic so careless with his body. The man had never so obviously soaked up the eyes on him and looked around for more. An old woman with a pinched face and black shawl over her head came out onto her porch and glared at him.
"Hello, Mrs. McArthur!" Vic called waving. Her creased face broke into a smile.
"Come, let me take a look at you, Boy," she said gesturing him onto the porch. He jumped up on the top step. She looked him over critically. "You need to eat," she informed him. "You need something for your girl to snuggle into." She patted his stomach. "Are you sleeping in the streets again?" Her voice dropped to a whisper and Mac strained to hear her. Vic smiled and ducked his head down.
"Not at the moment, Ma'am. I've got a roof for the night."
"You are always welcome here," she stated. "And that foolish young man you seem to have attached yourself to. My dear Arnold would have liked to know you. You would have gotten into so much trouble together," she smiled. "And if you need a gun," she said into his ear, "the back room is stocked. Take what you need and pay me later."
"Thank you, Sweet Lady." He kissed her on the cheek. "Until later."
Mac nodded to her as she shut and locked the front door. "Vic, Vic, slow down!"
"Hurry up!"
"Just shut up!" came a masculine voice from an upper window. Victor swept a mocking bow in the direction of the apartment and lounged against a lamppost at the end of the street. Mac stopped as a car screeched to a halt by the streetlight. The window came down. Vic leaned down to look into the car and grinned at what he saw.
"Holy shit, it is you! Are you back in business?" Mac heard the man in the car ask.
"Not tonight, but I'll be around for awhile." Vic's smile was large and made him look younger. Vic shook hands with the man in the car. He put the business card in his back pocket. Face dead white, Mac was unable to move one step closer to the man who was casually waving at the disappearing car. One of Vic's hands was casually in his back pocket, emphasizing the line of his back that was not hidden by a regular shirt or marred by a holster. Vic looked over his shoulder and cocked his head to the side. "What's the matter, Mac?" he purred. There was no hesitation in the voice. Mac didn't feel the night air anymore. He was in shock.
Victor shook his head gathered up his reluctant partner and led him to a quiet back alley. "What is the matter with you, Mac?" he asked sharply. At least the purr was gone.
"What the fuck is this, huh? Scare Mac Ramsey night?"
"What exactly do you think I'm up to? What? Suddenly, you figure out that I'm bi and you're scared? Jesus H. Christ, Mac, if I were going to jump you I would have. That's not my style. Relax, Mac. I've still got your back in a fight. You know that. Or do you still not trust me?"
"I trust Victor with my life, but I'm just not too sure that this fits in the Victor I know."
"Mac, I do know what you're supposed to do with the equipment, just because I don't react to the Director doesn't mean I don't understand the concept of sex. Shit, talk to your sister, for God's sake!"
"Somehow I don't think Li Ann has ever seen you this out of control. She would have dumped you sooner." Vic shrugged.
"Yeah, well, I never actually got to try your sister. We were waiting for marriage. Another wasted opportunity."
"And playing a whore is all in fun?" Mac mocked.
"Hey, Macky-Boy, what's the problem. If I were a thief or a drug dealer you wouldn't blink, but because I actually make money off of sex appeal you've got a problem with it? I guess Li Ann isn't the only one with moral fiber. You did what you had to do to survive. I did what I knew how to do," Vic hissed in Mac's ear as he slammed him into the brick wall. Mac stopped and stared over Vic's shoulder at the wall on the other side of the building. The older man was staring at his hand at Mac's throat. He dropped the restraining hand and moved to lean against the other wall. Slowly the older man sank down to his haunches and hugged in his sides.
"How old?" Mac asked dreading the answer.
"For what?"
"When you left home?"
"Fifteen, almost sixteen."
"And you already knew how to…" Vic kept his eyes down. He didn't answer. "Diu!" Vic nodded, eyes down, body language defensive.
"Before you ran away you were already… giving favors." No response. Mac sighed. "You were sold for sex by someone."
"Sort of," Vic choked out. "Leave it alone, Mac. This is not the time or place to deal with this. It takes a long time to explain." With a deep breath, the laughter was back in Vic's eyes. "What are we standing around here for? Let's go. There's more places to visit. Gotta do some marketing." Vic pushed himself to his feet. Mac reached out a hand to touch the wet tracks on the man's face. "Damn alleys get damp at night. They smell too," Vic wrinkled his nose and looked down at his hands. He rubbed the wetness away with the back of a hand. "Let's get somewhere I can wash up." Erase the evidence, Mac thought with a frown, but he didn't voice any of it. He followed the older man more out of concern than confusion now. He wanted to force the man to sit down and talk to him. The anger, the casual acceptance of the Director, all seemed to make a weird kind of sense now. The women they'd been dealing with all night were almost as predatory as Her. And Vic was used to using sex as a weapon, that much was obvious. He held court over all the people they'd met and none of them seemed to pressure him or flirt with him, except for those expecting to pay for the privledge, Mac realized.
"So where to?" Mac asked trying to match his mood to the bright cheerfulness that didn't seem to be a mask.
"We'll stop at the McDonald's and wash up and catch some food, then off to a couple more clubs. We'll decide based on whether I recognize the bouncer anymore or not and then to Vixen's for the rest of the night or to the docks depending on how adventurous you're feeling tonight."
"No docks. Not tonight. No place you describe as a concentration camp!" The hot water felt good on Victor's hands even as the soap stung all the pavement torn skin. He scrubbed at his face. There was no trace of tears of dirt left when he dried up. Mac winced as Victor cheerfully bit down into a hamburger. He ate his chicken suspiciously.
"It won't bite. Come on. The sooner you eat, the sooner we can get back to the clubs."
"So, how much of this trip down memory lane is going to find us our killer?" Mac asked softly.
"When did you start to give a damn?" Vic asked.
"Since I met a little girl and I saw you walk into a fist for her. She should be at home with a family, not on the streets with a predator like that hanging around."
"Oh, Mac, he's the safest of the predator's she'll meet."
"That doesn't make me feel better."
"It wasn't supposed to. I feel I should encourage the development of this conscience." His voice took on the precise tones the Director used when she was taunting Mac. Mac blinked and Vic winked at him.
"That is spooky."
"I've always had a facility for languages." Vic gave him a one armed shrug and continued to eat.
"Who was your partner before Li Ann?"
"Li Ann and I didn't work together before you showed up."
"Just answer the question."
"Macky-boy, relax. There's no challengers in the sidelines for my loyalty." Stop lying to yourself, Victor Mansfield! "No one is going to haunt me from the dark ages of the Pre-Tang Dynasty." Mac blinked. The hint of education was as quickly hidden as it was shown. "I worked with the Cleaners and Dobie and anyone else The Director told me to. I'm not usually a good team player."
"That's not what I've been seeing."
"Then you haven't been watching." Vic liked some ketchup off of his thumb and Mac blinked. It was as if Mansfield had turned off the sensuality with a switch. The sight which could have been played for the audience, wasn't. For the first time all night, no one was looking at them.
The next two nightclubs were almost carbon copies of the first. Victor flirted, flaunted, and taunted his audience while catching up on gossip and publicly marking Mac as his partner. Mac wasn't really paying attention to the information, Vic always took care of the details. There was one pretty red-head the Mac set his sights on. While he was dancing with her, a looming figure moved towards them. Mac looked up with a grin and stopped dead. The man could break him in half if he wanted to and it looked as if he wanted to. "What exactly are you doing with my sister?"
"Dancing," Mac replied. He heard Victor's laughter across the room.
Then, a very welcome voice called out: "Jay, calm down! He's Baby's partner. He don't mean no harm!" The lug loomed for a little while longer then stepped back. He glowered at the people around him, one hand on Mac's collar until he located Vic watching him. A smug little smile played at the edges of Vic's mouth and Mac realized he'd missed some dire warning when he tuned out the gossip. Jay marched Mac to the bar where his partner was lounging.
"Keep your property away from my sister," he snapped at Vic who steadied Mac's stumble and kept a lid on the younger man's pride.
"They are about the same age and Jenny isn't married yet. Maybe they'd make a good match. I make a fine second in command…" Jay snorted.
"No way, Pretty. You are not horning in on my part of the market. Don't even think it." The smile was reluctant. "Now, Jenny was only 11 last time you saw her, wasn't she?"
"I've never been introduced to her, but she's been pointed out to me. She grew up well. How did she handle your folks' divorce?"
"It was tough, but she's doing better. She still tends to get herself into bad relationships. Keep the shark here away from her."
"Sure thing, Jay. I think you need to get to bed, Macky. Wouldn't want to make you miss your beauty sleep."
"You'll be back, right, Baby?" the bartender asked.
"Probably."
"No cover then. I'll let the bouncer know."
"Thanks, Jake." Victor's smile was genuinely happy with a hint of shyness. The bartender would have been won with that look, if he hadn't already been under the man's spell.
Vixen was in doing her books when they came in at 3 am. She looked at Victor and shook her head. "Who ran you over, Pretty? Nevermind, I've got mecurichrome and bandages. We'll tape up the ribs and clean out the cuts. You have to stop walking into fists."
"But…"
"Don't back talk me, Young Man. March."
"Yes, ma'am." As they were heading up the stairs. Vic gave Mac this sage advice, "Never piss off a sister."
"I heard that."
"So?"
"Listen to the man, Sweetie, he knows what he's talking about."
*****
Sitting on Vixen's bed with his shirt off and hazel eyes wide, Victor managed to drop his age to the low twenties, barely adult. Mac snorted. Vixen just shook her head. "You aren't getting out of this lecture that easily." She perched on the bed with a bottle of disinfectant. "Hands." She frowned. "A badge. Dammit, Honey, what were you thinking? I ought to put you over my knee for getting in the way. You interfere with pimps I got no problem with that. You interfere with cops, you're gonna end up getting killed!" Victor hissed as the liquid stung the tears in his hands. His ribs were turning a disgusting shade of green-purple. Vixen's frown got deeper as she taped his ribs. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!"
"You weren't…" Vic began, then swallowed as he met her eyes. "I'm sorry. I know it was a stupid thing to do." He didn't bother trying to come up with an excuse because he knew she wouldn't accept one. He dropped his eyes to the floor. She lifted his chin and stared into his eyes. The silence drew out and Victor swallowed.
"Get ready for bed. I promised you a long time ago, that I would never throw you out of my home. I never promised to not get angry."
"I know," Victor said softly. He leaned forward until their foreheads touched. "I'm sorry I scared you."
"Beethoven's Fifth, Honey," she whispered to him.
"Beethoven's Fifth." Mac bit his tongue to keep from asking the question. Despite what others seemed to think, he was quite capable of tact. He just chose not to use it usually. This was a very delicate situation. They seemed to have forgotten he was in the room. He didn't want to tip the balance one way or the other. Vixen kissed Victor's cheek.
"I'm going to finish up my book keeping. Don't wake me up before one, understand?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Goodnight, Mac." She winked at the younger agent.
"Goodnight." As soon as he heard the heels click down the stairs he asked. "Okay, what is 'Beethoven's Fifth?'"
Victor sighed. "It's a code."
"I'd guessed that."
"The first bars of Beethoven's Fifth is morse code for V. V for Victory. It was used in World War II to give people hope. It can be tapped or hummed or spoken. Even in the worst situations the message gets through."
"Morse code?"
"I thought it was standard Agency training," Victor blinked. Mac shook his head. "Okay, V is dit dit dit dah. Three dots and a dash. Like this." He tapped it on the footboard. Victor frowned. "You do know the code for S.O.S right?"
"Um. No?"
"Christ! Okay. This one you need to know. If only because I might end up using it some day." Vic shook his head. He tapped out the sequence on the bed. Dit Dit Dit Dah Dah Dah Dit Dit Dit. "It stands for Save Our Ship. It's a call for help. Tap it for me." Mac did so. It made sense. If it was something Vic thought everyone knew, he wouldn't hesitate to use it. The "v" he understood was private, but the "SOS" was merely practical.
"Where did you learn morse code?"
"I… I'm not really sure. It was one of the things I learned when I was a kid. My father taught me, I think." The familiar distance came into Vic's eyes. He was processing something. At least, that's what Mac had decided that look meant. It was Vic's way of dragging information out of his memory. He blinked. "Sorry."
"Did you learn anything interesting tonight?" Mac asked instead of answering the random apology.
"Well, there was a power shake up about a year ago and the place still hasn't really recovered. The Tangs threw things into an uproar when they destabilized. Then, the Janzicks went down. There's been a bit of a power vacuum. The players are still scrambling to capture bits of the board. I didn't realize my showing back up would have thrown things off quite so much or I would have been a little lower key." Vic shrugged. "Too late now. My rep's probably the only thing that will keep us even vaguely safe."
"What fucking rep? The only answer I've been getting is relax and play it by ear."
"I'm not a heavy player. I don't get involved in inter-family rivalries. I'm loyal to my friends only. I take care of strays and kids. I do Robin Hood jobs. I flirt. I play. I don't get serious."
"You whore."
"Occasionally, when I'm desperate, but that's rare these days. China was a whore. He didn't think there was any other way to survive out here. I had other talents. But the current thought is that I'm older now, I'm going to try to take over some land. I need to disspell that rumor at all costs, Mac. If that means tricking, I will. If it means actually taking the heist I was offered tonight, well, we'll both have a blast and we'll get paid. Money the Director never has to hear about. And even if she does, I am more than willing to challenge her if she wants a taste of it." Victor grinned. "Any other questions, Macky-Boy?"
"You would challenge the Director."
"And you do not listen to gossip very much do you? Besides, she likes me." Mac stuck his tongue out. They both laughed.
Downstairs, Vixen smiled.
*****
The docks were a nasty hole during the day, let alone at night. Abandoned warehouses dotted the streets. Half of the running warehouses were smuggling something. The local government ignored the docks as uncontrollable. In the end it was the only place left for kids who didn't know the ropes to hide away from the harassment of police officers, only half of whom were trying to help them. Mac seemed uncomfortable. He was not used to going into areas like this. As a child of the Tangs, he had never been forced to see the squalor of their profession. He was happier in high society. Vic was more subdued, but greeted all the people he knew cheerfully. He was still sauntering like a cat instead of a cop and Mac wondered how much effort it took to keep the cop walk up instead. This walk seemed to flow so much more naturally.
They ducked into one of the warehouses. Mac recognized it as the one where Vic had been negotiating a hit of something after Li Ann broke up with him. He frowned. Vic rolled his eyes. "Hey, Pretty, haven't seen you in a while. Isn't that the asshole who dragged you out of here last time?"
"Yeah. This is my partner, Mac. How's it going?"
"It's getting tough. The cops are coming down hard. Well, for the most part. Narc isn't all that interested in busting up our operations. We pay them and they're fine. Oh, they still take out some of our small timers, but," the dealer shrugged. "You need something?"
"I'm just looking into some things. I'm figuring out what's going down. Rumor has it that the little ones come here now."
"They do. You setting up security for them? Most of them won't believe it."
"Well, I'm trying my best. I don't like seeing bad things happen to good people."
"You never did. Have you seen China?"
"No, have you?" Victor asked curiously.
"Nope. If I were to hear something, say, about an underground club that caters to unusual desires, and I were to tell you about it, would the information get taken to the cops?"
"I'm not a cop anymore."
"But would it find its way somewhere useful."
Vic smiled a nasty little smile and the dealer nodded.
"I'll take that as a yes. Check out the Styx underground and the Rabbit Hole."
"Will do. I'm always interested in something new. You have anything for me?" Victor blinked innocent hazel eyes. The dealer shook his head and crooked a finger. Victor followed him, waving for Mac to stay back. They were gone for about ten minutes. When they came back, Vic was carrying something. "Think fast!" He threw the gun to his partner, who caught it and hid it away.
TBC
Russian translation: stop it = perest(av)at'