Scott Medbury - Inga

“Are you well, Myfriend?” Inga asked him.

“Da… yes everything is okay.”

She smiled.

“I like you, Myfriend.”

Despite the gravity of their situation, he laughed in surprise.

“I like you too, Inga.”

“Do you like me because I am fuckable, Myfriend?”

“What? No!” he said, blushing.

“You do not find me highly desirable as a sexual partner?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. What I meant is… there is more than one way to like someone. I like you, but not only because I want to – not only because you are sexy.”

A horn sounded behind them. The lights were green. He put his foot on the gas and glanced in the rearview mirror; the headlights of his tail were still three cars back.

“ Sexy – sexually appealing, attractive, or exciting.”

“Yes. You should say sexy instead of fuckable. It’s much nicer.”

“Yes, Myfriend,” she said, and put her hand on his thigh, just above the knee. “I like you too, and not just because you are sexy.”

Ivan glanced at her pretty and very sincere face by the glow of the dashboard. His stomach did a somersault. Grappling with the unfamiliar feelings he’d been experiencing since he first met Inga, he turned his attention back to the road and their tail.

He hadn’t had time to analyze fully why he had risked everything to rescue her and take her away from Molenski, but her display of affection somehow validated his decision. Made him more determined than ever to escape his former boss’s clutches.

Ivan smiled grimly as he weaved through the traffic. The best way to lose this particular tail was to cut it off completely. Time for a trip to the shore and a final confrontation with the Russian. A few minutes later the nondescript Hyundai exited the 290 and headed onto West Congress Parkway. His hands were steady on the wheel. Since the shooting, he didn’t suffer any of the adrenaline-charged nerves that used to occur before a confrontation.

In fact, now that he was resigned to it happening, he was quite clinical about the coming clash. He knew that in ten minutes, he or Molenski would be dead. He was determined to ensure it wasn’t him… if it was, the fate that awaited Inga didn’t bear thinking about.

Finally, in the distance, he saw street open onto a green space and beyond, the blue water of Monroe Harbor. As luck would have it, the final set of lights leading into the road system of the park switched to amber and then red as they approached. Ivan floored the gas pedal and ran the red light, glancing in the mirror to see the tail blocked as they attempted to change lanes.

He sped through the empty network of roads that crisscrossed the whole precinct, then swung hard into the parking lot of Grant Park and parked in the darkest corner he could find. Being late Fall, there was virtually nobody around, and that was just the way he wanted it. If things escalated into a gunfight, the fewer witnesses and innocents in the area, the better.

“Come, Inga.”

Seeming to understand Ivan’s urgency, the robot stepped out of the car quickly and rushed to keep up with him as he ran down a path. The big man checked the clip in his pistol as he ran, before making sure the two spare clips were still in his pants pocket.

“Why are you checking your weapon, Myfriend?” Inga asked, as he put it back in the shoulder holster.

Perhaps he should have lied, remembering her reaction to his handling of Danny Garcia, but he decided not to. Obviously, something had changed after she had been shot, but it was best to know now if her robotics law programming was going to be a problem when the Russian arrived.

“There may be trouble,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “I may have to shoot some people.”

She nodded, seemingly comfortable with the prospect of human on human violence. They had just passed through the opening of a large hedge when Ivan spotted a pair of headlights coming from the direction they had just drove from. He grasped Inga’s arm and directed her to behind the hedge.

“Wait here until I call you out.”

“Yes, Myfriend.”

He turned to go and then, realizing that he may never get the chance again, he took Inga by her slender shoulders and kissed her on the lips.

“I love you, Inga.”

Before she could respond he was on the move, darting back through the opening in the hedge and turning immediately to the right. He would circle around to the back of the parking lot so he could come upon them from behind.

What the fuck? Did I just say ‘I love you’ to a robot?

He laughed harshly under his breath. Perhaps Molenski was right; maybe he was losing it.

Ivan slowed as he approached the parking lot from the west. There was a dark SUV parked near the Hyundai and he could only see one figure from his vantage point, someone leaning over and looking into the car by the light of a phone. Ivan didn’t recognize the man by his build, but of more concern was the fact that there was no one else present. That meant they were already hunting for he and Inga. He would have to make this quick. A broken neck would do it.

Stealthy, nothing but a shadow, Ivan ran towards the SUV, keeping it between him and the man looking into the car. He stopped at the rear of the vehicle and peeked around the corner, gun held at the ready. The light on the phone had been switched off, making his job a little more difficult as the other man would now be undistracted.

His target had moved away from the Hyundai and was looking at something in his hands, heading for the path that Ivan and Inga had taken just minutes before. Ivan was confused, this man was sloppy. Surely Molenski didn’t send this clown alone? It didn’t matter and he shrugged the question off. What mattered was a stealthy kill. If there were more, a gunshot would only bring them down upon him.

Ivan charged.

The other man didn’t hear Ivan, but perhaps sensed him. He turned around when the big man was still five feet away. He shot both hands into the air, one holding a small gadget, and started to backpedal and shake his head. Ivan didn’t pause; he ran straight at the man. As he closed in, the expression on his target’s face changed from fear to recognition, and he stopped where he stood.

Ivan didn’t stop but he slowed and instead of shoulder charging the seemingly unarmed man, when he was within reach, he grasped his head in his two hands.

“Please, wait! I can help you!”

Ivan squeezed the man’s head between his hands but didn’t twist it… yet.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“My name is Tom Redfern; I work for Genitix. I saw you… I mean, you have the Sinthetica robot, right?”

Ivan stared at the man. He looked like he had been through the ringer, his face was bruised and puffy, and there was blood on his clothes. He immediately judged him to not be a threat, but his presence raised many questions.

“How do you know about Inga?” Ivan asked, easing his grip a little.

“Inga?” asked Redfern, lowering his hands a little. “Oh, you mean the robot. Look, buddy, we don’t have a lot of time if you’ll just show me where she is, I can deactivate her…”

Ivan began to crush the man’s head again. Redfern made a squeaking sound.

“You will not touch Inga.”

“Okay, okay,” said the red-faced technician. “But she’s in some serious trouble – we all are when the authorities catch up with us. I need to remove the card from her to stop her hurting anyone else.”

“Card? What card?”

“I haven’t got all night to tell you about it, you just have to trust me,” said Redfern becoming more animated despite realizing that the big man was more than capable of twisting his head off.

“Tell me,” said Ivan, unrelenting.