"Shit!"  

"Get back here you son of a bitch!" 

"Get him and skin him!" 

Hamish heard the breaking of glass and the sounds of tables, chairs and and other debris flying through the air as he ran for his life.  He was dead drunk, but the surge of adrenaline that had shot through him as he trashed one of the nicest underground nightclubs in the city had kept him upright at least. 

He hadn't meant for his evening to go the way it did, but his woman's honor had been brought into question and that has inflamed him in a way he hadn't thought possible.  The chaos that ensued had seen Hamish turn into a raging tidal wave of violence that saw chairs splintered, mirrors shattered, bottles of booze smashed into smithereens and faces crushed.  But as talented as Hamish was at smashing things, he wasn't as good as taking on a roomful of drunk angry men, some of whom were twice his size.  So the only solution was to run.  Hamish was good at running. 

Kates was bored. Jack was busy, off playing with his horses. Lucy was still sick and not doing much. Angela had some new position and was busy for the moment. Kates sighed; she probably had to meet new people, make connections like Lucy had told her to. 

But at the moment, the idea of "making friends" was exhausting. Instead, Kates decided to hone her abilities more; she reached out to a local information broker in Vegas and an hour later was sitting across from a inordinately large desk.

The man behind it looked more like an aging thug than an information broker, but Kates had heard he had a much quicker mind than his appearance suggested. 

Hawley leaned forward, appraising the muscular young woman seated across from him.

"Well I've never heard of you before."

"I was in prison for a while with my friend Lucy. I mentioned her to you."

"You did," said Hawley. "And that's the only reason you're in the door at all."

"So do you have jobs or not?"

"Yea, I've got jobs. Jobs for established professional hitters, not little girls who wander in off the sidewalk."

Kates glared, but she heard Lucy's voice in the back of her head and swallowed her temper.

"Listen," she said, "I can't become a professional if I never get to do a first job, right? What's something a little weird that the pros may pass on. Give me that one- let me prove myself."

Hawley just stared at Kates for a while, then he sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"Fine, Kates. I'll give you a chance. Target's name is Hamish McCrannon, nicknamed Ham. 35 years old. 6'3", 180 pounds. Hazel eyes, brown/grey hair, not a smoker but a drinker. Drinking is what got him into trouble; apparently he got tanked and got himself into some trouble with the Don of St. Louis, Cozzi DiMarco. DiMarco put out the contract on him, but Hamish must be taken alive. The don was insistent on that point. Decent puncher, but not much experience fighting. He's mostly based out of DT; his brother is a big shot there. We think he's lying low. Here're the parts of town I'd check first..."

Hawley handed over three folded pages, which Kates accepted. Within minutes, she was out the door and planning a flight to Detroit.

*

Tracking Ham down had been harder than she'd expected. Kates used a tissue to wipe some blood off the bronze knuckles Lucy had given her, then glanced up at the cheap motel in front of her. He was here- at least he should be. Kates had tracked down a couple of his friends and persuaded them to talk. She slipped the bronze knuckles back in her pocket as she exited the car. She was wearing a black jacket, white blouse, and black slacks and boots, and she let her hair down from the ponytail to help her look younger. 

It was easy enough to point a gun at the hotel worker and get the room number.

She knocked desperately and tried to look as pathetic as she could.

"Excuse me! Hello! I need some help!'

She was a shit actor, but she didn't need to win him over... just get him to the door. As soon as his eye appeared in the doorway, Kates kicked the door with every ounce of strength in her muscular build. She'd aimed for the perfect spot to the left of the doorknob, just where her father had taught her, and the door broke its lock and slammed into Hamish's face. She was inside in an instant, wrenching the gun from his hand before he could fire it, then kicking the door closed as she leaped on him.

Maybe Ham could have put up a better fight if she hadn't taken him by surprise, but Kates didn't give him the chance to find out. She pummeled him relentlessly until his face started turning a strange brownish-purple color. Kates was so engrossed in doling out pain that her first warning that a third person had entered the room was the sound of a gun cocking. 

Robert frowned, the papers in front of him beginning to look a lot like the hot mush cereal his mother fed him on cold mornings. He was bored and tired of filing endless papers just to keep his business running smooth. It was hard work running a tea shop that served as a front for one of the must successful underground drug running exports. What had started as a simple request to pick up and sell three crates of cocaine in Detroit had expanded across a complicated network that had connections down to Las Vegas and Los Angeles and all the way up to New York. 

When he wasn't running the business with his brother, however, the eldest brother Hamish was often off cavorting and generally being the life of the party. More and more lately, he had been spending time in St. Louis so Robert was surprised to receive a call from him late into the evening. What was even more strange was that Hamish hadn't gone to their house or the old flat they still maintained, but was calling from a motel just outside the main part of the city. His brother dictated the necessities he needed brought to the hotel which Honey wrote down in a tidy script before turning off the lamp over his desk and checking out with the cats who merely mewled in response. 

"I'll be back tomorrow. Don't get your tails tied in knots and don't eat the ivy again you hear me?"

He drove slowly to the house, gathering a spare change of clothes and toiletries for Ham. As he was leaving, he paused at the coat rack. He bit his lip, wondering if it would be prudent to bring the gun that hung in the leather holster. Ham WAS at a hotel and not here, so there was a chance he was in trouble which wouldn't be out of character for him if Honey was being honest with himself. He set the clothes down and carefully took the holster from the hook, strapping it on under his coat and loading a few extra bullets into the pocket. 

Another short stop later for late night pastries and coffee, he was nearly an hour later than he'd promised as he pulled up to the seedy looking motel. It looked derelict and was eerily quiet as he double checked the room number on the paper in his hand. He unloaded the pastries and coffee, trying to balance them alongside the clothes as he made his way to the door. This seedy joint was the best his brother could do? They made enough money collectively to put him up in the finest penthouse for a year...he couldn't never understand his brothers commitment to such unpretentious digs. 

As he neared the room, he could hear what sounded like a commotion but they were at a place where that could mean any number of things. The walls were likely paper thin and you could hear a fight or other forms of business loud and clear. With a resigned sigh, he put the pile of things he was carrying and reached for the door handle, only to find that the wood on the post was splintered and there was a defined shoe print just above the handle. He reached for his gun and held it firmly as he toed at the door, pushing it open so that his hands were free to shoot. As the door creaked open, he caught sight of his brother's legs splayed out on the floor and an unfamiliar pair of legs straddling his waist. He was about to turn around and wait in the car until there little tête-à-tête was over but it was the crunching sound of fist on face that made him rethink quickly. 

Whoever this was, she wasn't there for a good old fashioned romp in the sheets and Honey's overprotective mode went into full effect. He decided to go a much quieter route than he was inclined to do, fearing that sudden movements might cause her to inflict even more pain on Hamish than she had already done. He slipped in quietly and aimed his pistol at her head, pulling back the trigger slowly as he spoke in a angry but measured tone. 

"Get the fuck away from my brother and I won't put a bullet through your brain just yet."

Kates' hand had started moving toward her knife but it was no use; the gun was close enough where the man wouldn't miss, but far enough away where she didn't have a shot of getting to it before he could pull the trigger.

She bared her teeth like an animal caught in a trap. Standing up, she turned to see a man pointing a gun at her. Kates tried to position herself on the other side of Ham. Her gun was in her pocket and her knives were at her back and at her calf.

"Look... this is just a job. The guy fucked up, and I'm supposed to bring him in..."

Kates noted a family resemblance between the two men and cursed to herself. Guess a bribe wouldn't help here.

"It's nothing personal. And not for nothing, but while I'm sure you can shoot me right now... well, I'm pretty sure that I could take at least one of you with me before I was done..."

She spoke confidently, trying to suggest they were on equal footing here. 

There was no doubt in his mind that the woman before him was anything less than deadly though the tone in her voice suggested she might be open to negotiation. He kept the gun trained on her as he turned, trying to get closer to his brother, possibly to put himself between her and him. 
 

“Might not be personal to you, but it most definitely is to me.” He too kept his tone calm, jovial even. Perhaps a wee bit condescending in an effort to throw her off. If she was like so many others, there was a bit of pride in the work she did. If there was an allusion to underperformance, there was often a chance that they could be riled up enough defending their abilities to overtake them. Still, women were crafty and there was no guarantee she wasn’t hiding something that could take him out in an instant. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that just because Hamish was the target, there were any protections for himself. He jerked his head, indicating that she needed to stand up and step away from his brother, hoping that she would budge. 
 

“Job or not, who sent you. And just where are you supposed to bring him?”

Kates bit her lip and sighed. Bad fucking form to get caught, and worse form to talk about the job. But both alternatives were better than getting shot.

"Don of St. Louis. Wanted him alive. He... caused some sort of major trouble. I was supposed to grab him, then bring him back to St. Louis..."

Kates wet her lips, realizing how bad it'd be for her to blow this job. She'd probably have to leave Vegas, and Hawley would probably never speak to her again...

Hamish lay on the floor, blood streaming from every hole in his head.  His ears were ringing, but at least the crunching sound of fists against flesh had stopped.  He thought he heard his younger brother Robert but seriously considered he was hallucinating.  The woman who had leapt at him like a feral cat had stood up and he had a nice view of her bum.  He winced, his swelling left eye filling with blood again.  Looking at bums seemed to get him in a lot of trouble.  The brief respite in getting pummeled had allowed the ringing to lessen and he listened intently to what was being said.   He could hear an iron hard edge in how brother's voice. 

“Job or not, who sent you. And just where are you supposed to bring him?”  There was a brief pause. The woman finally spoke. 

"Don of St. Louis. Wanted him alive. He... caused some sort of major trouble. I was supposed to grab him, then bring him back to St. Louis..."

Hamish groaned.  Of course it was his father in law.  The man hated him.  He didn't pay attention to the next few sentences as he pondered why the Don wanted him alive, not dead.  When he'd been dragged from the DiMarco mansion he'd been under the impression that he was being permanently ejected from the home, and St Louis and that if he valued his life, he'd better leave the city forever. He'd hightailed it and come straight home to Detroit, but the feeling he was being followed had persisted through the entire trip and he'd decided not to bring trouble home to Robert.  And now, laying on the floor, it seemed like trouble was going to find him no matter what.  He groaned again and tried to sit up. 

"Why does the Don want me back in St Louis?"  His voice sounded ragged but he was shocked to hear his brother and the woman speak in unison. 

"SHUT UP!" 

Kates sighed as she focused her steady brown eyes on Robert; she spoke as confidently as she could under the circumstances. She negotiated with Robert, since Hamish seemed unlikely to help out the person who'd just pummeled him. 

"Look, you're not going to shoot me. If you were going to, you would have done it already. So listen... the don of St. Louis is loaded. He's paying good money for me to bring in this ass- assumed brother of yours. So why not have it so that everybody wins?"

Especially me.

"I bring back my target and collect my bounty. You can pose as some thug I hired. We'll get your brother back there, I get paid, and you two figure out what the hell is going on. And then you're in place to spring him. I'll even help you out down there as a favor, huh? Better than just hanging around and waiting for the next person to try to collect the bounty, isn't it?"

"I take it you've never been hunting miss. It's a sport that requires an infinite amount of patience and the ability to remain focused despite being bored to tears for hours on end. If you're good enough, eventually you become an expert at one shot kills and can shoot through blinds and bluffs and still make the kill. I haven't shot you yet because I haven't determined if you're a worthy enough prey."

Truth be told he was getting rather tired of holding the gun and she didn't seem to be inclined to any MORE violence than what she had already demonstrated, but he was taking no chances. Even as he helped his battered brother up from the floor, he kept rapt attention on her, the gun never dropping. 

"Drop all your weapons, hidden ones included, and kick them over to me. When you've done that, only then will I consider not shooting you. As for your hideous offer, I'm not sure it's completely in our favor. There needs to be more of a plan than 'take him back and then spring him again'. Isn't he in this mess because he left?"

He paused, a scowl forming on his face as Hamish wobbled next to him, tight fingers gripping into his shoulder. Without breaking eye contact he addressed his brother with a less than jovial tone in his voice. 

"As for you dear brother, what is it that has gotten you in so much trouble that you've had the Don of a family in St. Louis send a hitma...erm woman out to drag you back?"

Hamish was barely standing but Robert's grip on him seemed to steady his legs a bit.  He grimaced when Robert addressed him as 'dear brother' and shifted uncomfortably.  This wasn't really a story he wanted to tell.  Looking at the woman in front of him and then at his unflinching little brother he decided now wasn't the time to be shy. After clearing his blood and tear lined throat he began. 

"A few months back I met a sweet girl at a bakery in St. Louis.  We got to talking and before I knew it I was head over heels for her.  A few dates, a few dinners and I was ready to go all in and marry her.  The night I was going to propose one of her brothers came to the restaurant instead.  He said I needed to come with him right away.  I did as I was told and was taken to a small church, a Catholic church.  Waiting there for me was the girl I loved, and about twenty men, most of whom I came to learn were working for her dad. 

Her father just happened to be Cozzi DiMarco.  You see, it seems my innocent little peach wasn't as innocent as I thought.  She had at least three other men on the hook at the same time, and one of them had gotten her pregnant.  Since I was her latest acquisition the assumption was that I was also the father. There was also the assumption that I'd make an honest woman out of her.   I wasn't even thinking straight, I said yes and fiddled in my pocket for the ring I had purchased.  Let's just say it might have gone better for me if I had lied.  

To make this long story short, we were married that night and I promised her I'd take care of her.  I even went to buy us a house and get a new car that was good for a family.  It was then that her father discovered her other beus.  I don't know why, but I was in deeper shit than I had ever been.  The Don dragged me in to his office and accused me of lying to get close to him.  And before I knew it I was outside of the house, in the street, with the threat of being killed if I came back.  

For the last week I've been confused, threatened and had what was left of my heart broken.  This is just some extra icing on the cake." 

Robert was a consummate professional with a nearly unflappable poker face. It was incredibly difficult to get him to react with any sense of satisfaction and yet, Hamish managed to continue to surprise him on a near daily basis. Married...his brother had gotten married to a...a whore? He dropped his hand and turned towards Hamish with surprise and horror written on his face. He was gobsmacked over the bombshell his brother had just dropped. 

"You WHAT? How...I mean you told me how but...WHAT?"

Sure Hamish was a bit reckless at times, prone to drinking and talking big, but never in a million years did it ever cross his mind that he would be caught up in something like this. He was being used and then blamed for this girl's piss poor decisions and now this Cozzi DiMarco wanted him back for what? In a moment he had gone from surprise to anger. If that bitch wanted his brother, he was going to get Robert as well. He'd already formulated half of a plan to go back and fuck things up for this DiMarco fellow but had inconveniently forgotten about the woman in the room who less than 15 minutes previous was beating the shit out of his brother. 

Kates mentally cursed Robert and his focus on holding his gun on her. That guy was a pro, at least. 

"Drop all your weapons, hidden ones included, and kick them over to me." 

Kates plucked her revolver out of her coat pocket with two fingers and put it on the floor; she also unbuckled her belt with the stiletto sheathed behind her back and let that fall to the floor as well. For now, she left the knife strapped to her calf alone. 

Kates chuckled at the story Hamish told, something that neither brother seemed to appreciate. As the story continued, she edged closer to the door. She could make a run for it... but she couldn't leave her knife behind. Sighing, she decided to wait things out. When they were done, she cleared her throat.

"So look. I'm more of an action person than a plan person, but it seems like you boys could use help from someone like me. At the very least, why don't you let me leave, so you don't cause even more trouble for yourself. I've got friends who could make things hard for you- or easy."

She didn't want to name drop Lucy or Jack, but she would if she had to.

"So... what do you think? You two boys want help with this situation or do you want to handle it yourselves? Either way, killing me only makes a lot more trouble for you."

Robert's reaction had actually been better than Hamish had expected, but it was still bad.  He noticed the woman who had beaten him was slowly inching towards the door and stepped closer to her. 

"Not so fast little lady."  He nodded to her leg.  "If you had a gun and a knife you for sure have something up your trousers. Don't think about using it."  He decided not to try and take it from her himself, as he wasn't interested in a knee to the face.  He looked at Robert and back at the girl. 

"I can't imagine you're going to have a good time trying to explain why you didn't finish your job. And I feel for you-" He paused as Robert cleared his throat menacingly.  "But what do we get out of working with you OR letting you go?  Seems like you're a handful and I'd like to not have to meet you like this again."   He gingerly rubbed the left hand side of his face and winced.  "In fact I might not be interested in meeting you ever again young lady. But I just don't think we can let you walk away." 

Kates tensed, ready to either spring for the door or toward the brothers, but Robert would seemingly be the one to decide. Well, fuck. Better to name drop than catch a bullet.

'I, uh, work for a man named Jack Mezzo in Philadelphia. If you kill me, he'll probably come after you. And I wasn't going to kill you. Kick my ass if you want to, but it sounds like all I was doing was roughing you up a bit and then reuniting you with your wife... that doesn't seemed like it's worth killing me over."

She looked back and forth between Hamish and Robert.

"Look, you do whatever you want. Kill me if you're going to, but it sounds like you don't need more trouble. I can help you, because I'd rather help you than die. What else are you going to do, tie me up and bring me along for the ride? Lock me in a closet?"

Privately, Kates resolved that if she survived this she'd never try to collect a live bounty ever again. Too fucking complicated. Killing was easier. 

Robert was riled up both AT his brother and FOR his brother in that it seemed like either way he was getting an unfair shake. It seemed though that the woman was inclined to help, or at least save her own ass which might benefit them in the best way. If they could convince her to join them and really fuck things up for the DiMarco's, then perhaps they could let her go her own way. 

He pondered his options for a moment, sizing the woman up in front of him. She'd be useful in leading them to DiMarco but the treasure trove of weapons still in between them meant that she was far from dangerous. She was a liability but they could use that to their advantage. 

"Listen, I'm sorry about this. I've got some rope in the back of the car. I'm afraid you're not escaping as it seems it would be more prudent to take you along. If this works out in our favor, we'll let you go and might even be able to offer compensation for your services. Enough to get you out of dutch with whomever you're contracted with plus a little extra on the top?"

He was definitely trying to sweeten the deal, hoping that it would further convince her to work with them and not shoot them first chance she got. He bent to pick up the weapons she'd flung, still keeping his eyes on her. Hamish mentioned the fact that she might not have dropped all of her weapons. 

Kates listened carefully and resisted the urge to spring towards the door and take her chances. If they wanted to shoot her, well they'd probably have done it by now. She'd rather get shot than tied up... but Robert didn't seem like much of a liar. 

"Don't let anything happen to that knife," said Kates. There was steel in her voice. "That's the most important thing in the world to me."

She paused.

"Let me make a phone call so my friends know where I am. That should be enough to guarantee my safety, if they know who I'm with. Then I'll come with you however you want."

Robert collected the weapons and looked around the room. The motel room was rather sparse and the only phone was up in the front office, and he gestured for the door as he handed the knife off to Hamish. His brother took it gently and placed it alongside the other weapons in a small bag. Honey gestured to the pile of clean clothes that were rumpled in a pile near the door and the back at Ham. 

"Get yourself cleaned up best you can, we've got a bit of a drive ahead of us."

He walked Kates out towards the office, making a good show in case someone got suspicious or she decided to bolt, but surprisingly she didn't. After a bit of cajoling the office clerk and a gesture of good faith in a folded bill, she was allowed to use the phone and made a rather rushed call to whomever her contact was. She finished and ducked back out the front door, following Robert back to the room with resignation. She gathered her things in the room and a mostly non-bloody Hamish exited, turning off the light before he shut the door. Robert had fetched the rope from the trunk but there was little need for him to use it on her as she slid into the passenger seat of the car. Hamish took the back to rest and Robert got in to drive, motoring back out of the city on their way back to Missouri. 

After a terse half hour of silence from both passengers, Honey decided to make a go for some type of communication. He pondered what to say, trying not to make it awkward. After a few false starts and a somewhat amusing snore from the back seat, he gripped the steering wheel and spoke softly. 

"Never did introduce myself, I'm Honey. What's your name?"

Kates felt naked without her father's knife, but she was willing to suffer that discomfort to avoid getting shot. Her eyes blazed with anger and she indulged a thought about what she'd do to Robert and Hamish if the tables were turned, but she kept her temper in check. She felt ashamed as she picked up the phone and punched in Jack's number.

"Hey. It's me. I picked up some freelance job and it went sideways. I'm fine, but you should know I'm with some guy Hamish out of Detroit and who I think is his brother. We're going to clear up this... misunderstanding and it shouldn't be an issue. But if I disappear, it's them who did it. Ya. I know."

She hung up abruptly and spun on her heel, following Robert like a leashed cat. That demeanor persisted in the car, as she sat with her head leaning against the window and her arms crossed. 

"Never did introduce myself, I'm Honey. What's your name?"

Her brown eyes flicked over to the driver, then back out the window. She was tempted to ignore him, but it made more sense to play nice.

"You can call me Kates."

"Kates huh? Reminds me of one of my favorite poets."

He paused, thinking of some of his favorite prose as they drove a particularly dark stretch of road. Hamish stirred in the back of the car while Kates continued to glower out the window. Robert stole a furtive glance towards her, wondering what she was thinking about. The afternoon wore on and dusk began to fall. There was a gentle beauty in the twilight as the clouds shifted colours from pink to purple and blue. The skyline was punctuated by a murmuration of birds that swooped and soared over the grass, looking for the perfect place to roost for the night. They followed the car for several minutes before breaking off in an explosion of black feathers, diving off towards the left. Still, his passenger was rather silent. As Hamish finally woke up, Robert murmured a line from one of his favorite poems. 

"The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!

Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast,

Warm breath, light whisper, tender semi-tone,

Bright eyes, accomplish’d shape, and lang’rous waist!"

"Keats!" Hamish exclaimed.  For a moment he remained disoriented and replied back to his brother. "Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
when a new planet swims into his ken..." He trailed off, realising he was in the back seat, the pain in his face leading to further remembrance. 

"Why the hell are you reciting poetry? Why do we have the girl? Where the hell are we goin?"  His head was fuzzy and although he had dozed a bit he was aware of the fact he was still extremely sleepy.  The events of the evening seemed so far away to him and he felt nauseated.  He didn't dare mention any of this to Robert though because he had the very bad feeling he was in Dutch with his little brother.  As for the girl, he slowly recalled that just a short while ago she had been beating him up. He winced.  

"Girl, why are you with us?"  Now the night was becoming more of a jumble to him, but he made the firm decision he was not going to bother Robert.