John Ringo: A Deeper Blue

“You’re going to die for this, you pig,” Gonzales said, struggling to break free. The dislocated shoulder made that rather hard, though.

“Yes, well, others have said that,” Mike replied. “And here I am. I’m not much of a gloater but I’m going to tell you something and then I’m going to write it down and return it to your bosses, attached to your dead body. It’s like this. You want to run drugs, you want to fuck around with your own government, you want to blow up Colombian civilians, that’s your business. People like me most of the time just won’t care. But you start helping terrorists get shit like VX into the U.S.? You help kill American civilians. Then we care. That’s pretty much it. Oh, except for one thing. The lady who’s holding you? My harem manager? Major league masochist. Comments, Stasia?”

“He can’t whip as hard as you , Kildar,” Anastasia purred. “And his dick is tiny .”

“Another county heard from,” Mike said. “And I promised a lady something. Katya?”

“Thank you, Kildar,” Katya said, walking over to the drug smuggler. “I’ve been beaten and raped by the worst pimps on earth; you’re a piker compared to them. But you like to get off beating on women, women who don’t enjoy it. Just like the bastards that raped me so many times over the years. You like to watch? Watch this.”

She drew back her hand and struck with middle and index fingers, straight into the man’s eyes.

“Oops,” she said as the screaming man began thrashing and Anastasia rolled him to the floor, “I did it again…”

“When I said ‘can I go for a ride in your GT,’ I sort of meant around Orlando,” Heather said as Mike pulled into the parking area by the beach.

“What, you don’t like the Bahamas?” Mike asked, turning off the car.

The estate had a small road that ran around the perimeter and up to the airstrip. Mike had used the latter for a brief demonstration of the GT’s acceleration, but it obviously wasn’t the ride the girl had hoped for.

“This car is hot,” Heather replied.

“I know,” Mike said. “It’s unfortunate that where I live, there’s not many places worth driving it.”

“No, I mean it’s hot ,” Heather said, opening the door. “Like, why’d you go and paint it black?”

“I like black,” Mike said.

Heather’s family, along with Lindsey’s, had been surprised by the invitation to come visit a private island in the Caribbean. However, given that many of Orlando’s attractions were closed for “renovation,” they weren’t going to look the horse too closely in the teeth region. Especially with a ride in a private jet thrown in. The man who’d invited them might have been… eccentric, but he was a fine host. And, what the heck, they all owed him their lives.

“Maybe I can drive you around Orlando some other time,” Mike continued. “And I’ll run the air conditioner.”

“Okay,” Heather said, heading for the beach. “Later.”

“Later,” Mike replied, chuckling.

He walked over to the beach chair by Will and flopped down.

“Thanks for inviting us down here, Mr. Jenkins,” Will said uncomfortably. His hand, in a cast, was propped on the arm of the beach chair.

“You’re welcome,” Mike replied, looking out at the scene. The entire harem, most of the intel girls and about half the Keldara shooters were playing in the water while Vil and his team were offshore giving rides and racing each other. Even Dr. Arensky was down there, wandering in knee-deep water. Although, he seemed to be collecting specimens… Vanner wasn’t exactly disporting, just sitting in the water, holding Greznya’s hand and talking with Master Chief Adams. But he was alive at least. “And it’s just Mike, okay?”

“Okay… Mike,” Will said. “It’s right nice of you, though.”

“I had my reasons,” Mike said. “They’re strange reasons, but very real. I sort of had an epiphany around the time that I dragged Lindsey out of the water. I think in a way that Lindsey saved me as much as the other way around. This is sort of a… resolution of that.”

“Well, Lindsey’s sure getting along with your daughter,” the man said, waving to where Lindsey and Martya were splashing each other and giggling fit to die.

“Oh. Uhm…” Mike paused then shrugged. “Martya’s not exactly my daughter . She’s one of my… wards. I’m her guardian.”

“Oh,” Will said. “I’d wondered about you having so many kids. What about that one?” he asked, pointing at Tinata.

“Ward,” Mike said.

“Those three?”

“Wards.”

“That one?”

“Oh, one of my… employees…”

“She looks… a little young…”

“Look, Will, just go with the flow,” Mike said, accepting a beer from Britney as she walked by. The lieutenant was looking better as well. “Changes in latitude and all that.”

“Yeah,” Will said, obviously just a tad confused. “Nice boat, too. You doing renovations?”

Mike looked over at the yacht. The former White Line was undergoing an extensive paint job and some cosmetic work to its superstructure.

“Mostly cleanup,” Mike said. “I live over by the Black Sea. I figure I’ll drive her over there, use her to cruise around, you know? Maybe I won’t have to rent a yacht. Next time.”

He was wondering if he could manage to hang onto all the boats or if the U.S. government would insist on getting them back, when he drifted off to sleep in the sun.

To sleep, perchance to dream…