Rogue Angel - Polar Quest Part 3

"Me?" Annja grinned. "Mostly I file reports for a show called Chasing History's Monsters. Chasing History's Monsters. But occasionally I end up in remote parts of the world in small bars with guys who buy me drinks." But occasionally I end up in remote parts of the world in small bars with guys who buy me drinks."

"Interesting life," Dave said.

"It has its moments."

"Well, I'm sure Zach will be able to shed some light on why you're here just as soon as he gets here."

No sooner had he spoken than the bar's door opened. Annja felt a gust of cold air blow into the bar before the door closed again. She saw a huddled figure stooped over wrestling with his parka zipper before finally freeing himself.

He turned and headed right for their booth.

Zach Guilfoyle hadn't changed much since the last time Annja had seen him. He wore his sandy-brown hair cropped close to his skull, and his Romanesque nose protruded like a hawk ahead of him. But his toothy smile made her grin even as he approached.

She climbed out of the booth and hugged him. "It's great to see you."

He hugged her back. "Glad you made it down intact. I'm sorry for not being able to speak with you first about all of this, but then, some things are better left unsaid until you're face-to-face."

"Okay, well, I'm here. So what's going on?" Annja asked.

He pointed at her drink. "You need a refill?"

"Not yet."

Dave spoke up. "I could use another."

Zach eyed him and smiled. "Sure thing. And thanks for picking her up."

"My pleasure."

Annja watched Zach walk to the bar. He seemed thinner, as if the weight of all the extreme-weather gear he had to wear had stripped him of some of his flesh and bones. But he seemed cheerful enough, if slightly preoccupied.

She noticed two men at the bar seemed interested in him. And judging from the grim expressions they wore, they weren't fans.

Zach came back with two bottles of beer and sat down across from Annja. "Well, here's to you getting down here safe and sound."

"Cheers."

They clinked bottles and gla.s.ses and drank. Zach wiped his mouth on a napkin and then glanced at the bar.

Annja could feel his apprehension. "You okay?"

"Yeah. It's nothing."

Annja looked at the bar. The two men continued to stare at Zach with frowns etched on their faces.

"They don't look all that nice," she said.

"They're not," Zach replied.

Annja took another sip of her gin and tonic. She felt uneasy. She closed her eyes. Not already, she thought.

But when she opened them, she knew it was coming. Zach's eyes had widened.

Annja turned.

The grim men were headed over to their booth.

4.

Annja felt a twinge of apprehension at their approach. Neither of the men looked drunk and both seemed in excellent physical condition. She blinked and kept her eyes closed long enough to determine that her sword was ready, if need be. It hung in s.p.a.ce, glimmering faintly.

But the last thing she wanted was to explain to anyone how she'd suddenly manifested a large two-handed sword.

The larger of the two men stopped about four feet from their booth and pointed a finger at Zach. "You Guilfoyle?"

Zach smiled. "Yes. Can I help you with something?"

Annja watched the man's eyes. They never s.h.i.+fted. They just stayed fixed on Zach. But she was aware of how relaxed he seemed, as well. And that wasn't a good sign. It meant these guys were so used to intimidating people, it had become second nature to them.

The second man hung back a bit, looking around to make sure people weren't taking too much notice of the conversation, one-sided though it was. His eyes roved the rest of the bar, never settling too long on anyone. He looked like he was maybe five feet ten inches and weighed around a hundred and sixty pounds. He was solid and lithe and he had a casual manner about him that told Annja a lot.

The first guy looked Zach up and down. As he studied Zach, Annja sized him up. He stood about six feet and weighed maybe two hundred pounds. It was a little more difficult to tell since he wore a thick turtleneck sweater that bulked him up some.

But the most telling thing about him were the calluses on his hands. Specifically, on the edge of his hands.

Annja pointed at them. "You study karate?"

He barely moved. "Uechi-ryu." "Uechi-ryu."

Annja whistled. "Hard style. How long?"

"I've got a black belt."

Annja shook her head. "Didn't ask what your rank was. I asked how long you've been studying."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

She smiled. "Not really. See, any two-bit jerk can go to a seminar these days and find a sham of a teacher willing to hand them a black belt. But only the people who have been around for years and years are worth a d.a.m.n."

He looked at her now, eyeing her carefully. "Fifteen years," he said.

She nodded. "That would account for the calluses. Lots of makiwara makiwara training, huh?" training, huh?"

"Yes."

"I'll bet you've got one in your house, too, wherever that might be."

"I train constantly."

Annja glanced around. "Anything good to hit here in Mac Town? I only just got in, so I'm asking."

His eyes betrayed the disdain. "You study?"

"Sure do. Not any specific style-I'm too busy to devote a lot of time to any one form-but a lot of varied ones."

"Like?"

Annja took a breath. "Oh, wow, let's see. Shotokan, Shotokan, tae kwon do, some judo, boxing, a little Krav Maga, old-style jujitsu, and even some ninjitsu on occasion." tae kwon do, some judo, boxing, a little Krav Maga, old-style jujitsu, and even some ninjitsu on occasion."

"Ninjitsu?" He smirked. "You must be joking."

Annja narrowed her eyes. "Not at all."

"Yeah, well, I've known plenty of supposed ninja guys and they all sucked."

"What about ninja girls? You ever known any of them?"

He frowned. "No."

"Well, then, there you go. Everyone knows ninja guys are horrible fighters. It's the women who are the deadliest of the species. But no one ever talks about it, so we just let them carry on. It's good for their ego and all."

"Who exactly are you?" the man asked.

Annja smiled and took a sip of her drink. "I'm the woman who asked you what was good to hit around here."

The man pointed at Zach. "I'm thinking he might be a good place to start. Looks like he could use a good beating."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like him. I don't like how he looks and I don't much like what he stands for."

Annja laughed. "You're kidding, right? What's not to love about Zach? He's the life of the party. I'll just bet if you and your friend there had a s.h.i.+ndig, old Zach here would bring the house down."

"He's not invited."

"So you're going to just beat him up, is that it?"

The first guy cracked his knuckles. "Yep."

Annja shook her head. "No. That's not what you're going to do. You're not going to touch a hair on that guy. Not one single strand."

He eyed her again. "I don't like the manner you're taking with me, little lady."

"Lady?" Annja shook her head. "And I'm supposed to believe you're some kind of gentleman, is that it?"

He shook his head. "I don't really care what you think."

"Good, because it's not pretty. Really. Now, why don't you and your pal go on back to the bar and you can continue giving us the evil eye or whatever it was you were doing over there before you so rudely interrupted our conversation. I just had a long flight and I'm really in no mood for this kind of silliness."

"You just flew in?" the man asked.

"That's right," Annja said. "And, boy, are my arms tired." She smirked. "Or did you hear that one before?"

"If you just flew in, that means you're with him, right?"

"He hasn't proposed yet, if that's what you're asking."

Zach cracked a smile. "Yeah, she's with me. What about it?" he asked.

The first guy leaned on their table. "I don't like either one of you people. So you'd better just watch yourselves. Or there might be trouble."

Annja cleared her throat. "Well, how come Dave here gets a pa.s.s? I mean, after all, he's sitting with us. Aren't you mad at him, too?"

"I got no problem with him," the man said.

Annja sighed. "See, that's just like the world, isn't it? I have to be friends with the trouble magnet. And Dave here gets off free."

Dave shrugged. "Maybe I'm just more lovable."

Annja looked back at the first man. "Well, thanks for coming by. I know I certainly appreciate it. And I think Zach does, too, in his own peculiar way. It's always nice to know who the a.s.sholes are in any town you travel through."

He leaned closer to Annja. "You keep your tongue wagging and I just might forget about my previous hard-line stance against beating the c.r.a.p out of women."

"Something tells me you might have already broken that position," Annja said. "You look like just the type of jerk who would beat up a woman for kicks."

He smirked. "Maybe you're right."

"Oh, I know I am," she said. "And that's fine. Because there's nothing I like better than taking an idiot like you to task. It will be my tremendous pleasure to redefine the meaning of the words smack down smack down in your precious little stegosaurian noodle." in your precious little stegosaurian noodle."

Annja could see his fists clench. The vein in his forehead seemed to jut out a little farther now that she'd riled him up. She glanced around. The music had gone quiet and people were paying close attention.

"Whoopsie, looks like you've got yourself that audience you didn't want. Might be a good time to pack up this snake oil and peddle it elsewhere," she said fiercely.

The first man glanced around and then nodded to his friend. He looked back at Annja. "We'll be seeing you again. Real soon."

"Great. I appreciate the welcoming committee making me feel so comfortable," she said loudly.

Both men wandered back to the bar, downed their drinks and then stalked off into the cold night. Once the door closed behind them, the music came back up and people returned to their tables and friends. Annja could feel more eyes giving her a once-over.

"So much for keeping a relatively low profile," she said.

Dave smiled and polished off his second beer. "Anyone for a refill?"