The Chez Rourke towered over the city. It stood erect over the surrounding buildings and all of Detroit- nay, all of Michigan, stared up at its golden facades. Diamonds shown around the windows, gleefully reflecting the August sun that beat down on the city. When people weren't staring at the solid gold tower they stared at Kates, who was leaning against the wall next to the entrance with her arms crossed. By now, she was used to getting stared at, though today's circumstances were quite different. The white heavy cloth dress fell down to her ankles, and her hair was pinned up tightly under a bonnet. Originally the dress had reached up to her neck, but some quality time with scissors had adjusted things nicely. Well, at least she wouldn't pass out from the heat. She fanned herself and waited for Rourke. Her body angled away from any passerby, she practiced flicking out the blade she kept fastened against her right forearm. A particular awkward twist of her wrist would push it forward into her hand. She'd found the blade on a recent job and WillieRourke had stayed up with her in the Riot! HQ perfecting the design. At the very least, repeatedly launching it forward into her hand and reattaching it had helped pass the last hour she'd been waiting.

A crowd of people waited in line outside of the Chez Rourke, blockaded by a wall of bouncers. No one except Rourke had ever entered- which made sense, since he'd entered just about everywhere else, but Kates didn't have the heart to tell that to the unlucky group. Whistling, Rourke emerged and adjusted his three cornered hat, before patting the obviously full stomach under his red, 18th century British officer's coat. Shaking his head at the bouncers, he walked past the dispirited line and approached Kates. After giving her the once over, he remarked.

"You just had to add cleavage, didn't you? There's a good wench."

Kates glared and turned so swiftly the train of her dress trailed behind her for a moment as she walked down the alley towards the car. Rourke ambled closely behind as he cursed the conservative dress of the Revolutionary War era. Kates removed a musket and a pistol from the trunk and tossed the pistol to Rourke, who deftly caught it and tucked it into his belt, though he wasn't quick enough for the musket, which hit him in the chest before he got his hands around it.

"So what's the deal with the outfits, Rourke?" she asked, as she slid into the car. Rourke pulled out and began cruising towards their destination.

"Apparently Marietta wants us to take care of a local businessman. He's built up a small empire of grocery stores- just became a multimillionaire a few weeks ago. Name's John Hurston. Apparently he's on a crusade to stomp out crime in Detroit, and he's planning on making a million dollar donation to the city to form an elite crime fighting unit. Luckily for us, that won't be happening for about a week due to his obsession with the Revolutionary War."

Kates raised an eyebrow, as the buildings that flashed by began to grow smaller as they reached a part of the city outskirts known for its expansive parks.

"Hurston is a Revolutionary War nut- he's been getting increasingly obsessive as he grows older. But with nothing happening in the Revolutionary War out here in Detroit, he's fixated on a particular occurrence in the War of 1812. Apparently in mid-August, a smaller group of British soldiers tricked a larger American garrison at Fort Detroit into surrendering. Take a look at this..."

Rourke reached inside his officer's jacket and tossed a poster written in flowering pen to Kates.

ON SATURDAY, AUGUST 15

To Reverse The Grave Injustice Of America Re: The Surrender of Fort Detroit In The Year Of Our Lord 1812, A ReSetting Of History Shall Be Enacted In Battle Between The Forces Of The American People And The Soldiers Of The DreadFul British Empire

Undoubtedly The American Spirit Shall TRIUMPH As It Always Shoulde

Soldiers For Both Sides Shall Be Paid $10 With Uniforms And Equipment Provided. Inquire Immediately.

Kates laughed as she skipped over the listings of locations. Rourke continued.

"Marietta does not want to see a million dollars going towards the city's police. We have a good relationship now- we don't want them trying to bring in new experts that are less understanding of the way things work. So this nutjob Hurston is going down. The musket and pistol we have are legitimate. I've signed myself up as Lieutenant Colonel Sir Rourkeford Rourkeshire and you... you are my serving wench and prostitute. Hurston is going to be commanding the United States force, as you've probably guessed. While everyone else is shooting blanks and chaotically sprinting into each other, we hit Hurston and go. No one will look twice at our weapons and no one should notice he's dead until we're long gone. It's brilliant, and I came up with it myself."

Kates nodded and held back a smile. She'd sat down with her mother over coffee and the two of them had put together this plan. Still, Rourke was more fun when his ego was sated, and it never hurt to be reminded of the details. Besides, Marietta had demanded that Rourke accompany Kates on this mission so that the soreness had a chance to fade. The car slowed as it came to a stop at the park.

A large field stretch to a distant woodline and the battle lines were beginning to form. Rourke, with the pistol tucked in his belt, grabbed the musket and trudged over to the British side with Kates. With Rourke in line with the other soldiers, Kates cowered behind him and scanned the American ranks for Hurston.

He was easy to spot, riding a chestnut warhorse up and down the line, screaming obscenities at his soldiers. Rourke lined up the musket to see what the aim would be like.

"This is going to be easy. I can pick off a falcon on a cloudy day. For fun, I camped out with a rifle on a building next to Navin Field and shot fly balls during a Tigers game. I COULD SHOOT THE BALLS OFF OF A FLY!"

Rourke raise his musket in victory as the portly bearded man standing next to him spoke up.

"Good thing these things aren't real, mate. Apparently these pieces of crap couldn't hit the blind side of a barn from this distance unless you were lucky."

Slowly lowering the rifle down to his side with a downcast face, Rourke stared straight ahead and soundlessly handled the rifle to Kates. She grinned as she checked the sights. Deciding to risk a practice shot into the treeline behind her, Kates aimed at the center of an oak approximately the same distance away as Hurston. It barely chipped the outside edge.

"What-did these guys shoot once every goddamn hour?" she muttered as she stuffed in the powder during the complicated reloading process. The bayonet clanked against the metal attached to her forearm as the bearded man next to Rourke approached her.

"You shouldn't use up your blanks, you know. That guy over there told us we needed to put up a good fight before we surrendered. Crap!"

He'd yelled because the American forces had started advancing. Hurston led them, firing blanks from pistol into the air. Kates sprinted ahead of the British line and dropped to her knee in order to get a better shot. She locked the man in her sights and, as she exhaled, pulled the trigger... and shot his hat off. Cursing, she began the intricate process of reloading, but she never had a chance to fire again. Hurston, infuriated by the Brit who had broken ranks, had charged her.

Kates tossed the useless musket to the ground and calmly gathered herself, dropping into a ready stance. As the horse began to slow, she took a few running steps and leaped toward it. Unfortunately, she wasn't used to running around in a dress from the 18th century and barely got airborne as she managed to grab onto one of the stirrups.

Gritting her teeth, she felt her legs get dragged along the ground as she slowly pulled herself upward to the saddle. Unable to swing her leg around it, she balanced as best she could. She reached out, contorted her right arm and, as the blade appeared, plunged it into Hurston's back once. Twice. Three times. His shouts faded as he slumped his saddle and the horse came to a halt. They were just inside the woods, and the battle was being fought in the distance. A single figure sprinted toward them, waving his arms.

"NOT SUBTLE! NOT SUBTLE! NOT SUBTLE!" yelled Rourke, as he dropped his hands to his knees and panted next to the horse. Kates shrugged and, pointing the horse back to the battle, smacked it on the ass and sent the dead rider back towards the fray. She wiped the blade cleaned with the bottom interior of her dress and, after reattaching it, began walking in the opposite direction back towards the city.

As Kates and Rourke made their way down the sidewalk, the sun dipped down below the skyline.

"I can't wait to get back and out of these clothes!" Kates groaned, as her silhouette passed in front of the setting sun. No one could hear Rourke's reply, but the slap and the red mark on his face were heard and seen by all.

Very good and funny boss, well done.

:)

Nice read.

very good

Awesome Boss

Very entertaining.