The lights of the club were muted, casting long shadows across the bar and the longer stage that occupied a good chunk of the floor area. Standing on the stage a gaudily-dressed dame was singing an old country song, warbling about ‘living in an old caravan with three bratty kids and a no-good drunk of a husband’.
Not my type. I like my men strong and handsome. Still, his singing voice isn’t so bad… Captain Treyvon admired the cross-dresser who was occupying the attention of the other patrons. Raising one large hand he took hold of his drink, a garish cocktail in a tall glass, and took a healthy swig, feeling the burn of strong liquor mixed with the hit of fruity sugars. Still, I’m not here entirely to socialise. Duty calls…
Looking over at his sister who was sitting beside him, cocktail also in hand, flipping idly through a bunch of files on the table, he spoke. “Hey Aliyah, so what do you think? Anything worth our time?”
She turned to him then, the brightly coloured beads in the braids of her hair jingling softly, the sound drowned out by the music. Once more Treyvon was struck by how… big… his sister was, in all the right places too. Not that I have any more than an academic interest. His sister was an inch over six feet tall, and muscular, though not in a way that made her look unappealing. And her chest… well it was straining against the military-camo t-shirt she was wearing, her bottom likewise tight in her skinny jeans. Yep, she’s big, even for a typical African-American.
Seeing his gaze she frowned. “Where do you think you are looking, moron? You aren’t even into girls, so my chest should be none of your business.”
“Don’t be like that, sis.” Treyvon sighed. “I was just wondering why you aren’t more popular. You are fit and seriously stacked. We make good money too…”
“Don’t be an idiot.” She scoffed. “You don’t think being a mercenary puts people off? Oh, sorry, a Private Military Contractor. Have to get the lingo right, after all…”
“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a massive…” as his sister’s gaze hardened he swallowed down what he was going to say, taking a swallow of his cocktail, draining it, changing the subject. “Uh, never mind. My bad. So anyway, much going on?” he gestured to the handsome man behind the bar who promptly brought him another brightly-coloured drink. Damn, he’s hot. Could use more muscle though… a shame.
“Depends what you are looking for. Some of these are clearly a load of crap… take this one…” she too finished her drink, and as the barman walked over she asked for a large whiskey on the rocks. Not a feminine drink. That probably puts your type off as well…
As if she could hear what he was thinking his sister glowered at him. Coughing, he gestured for her to go on.
“Well, you’re into weight training, right? Got to keep those muscles.” Aliyah smirked. “So listen to this. Several longstanding weightlifting world records were just shattered by a guy from Norway. Egil Andersen, age twenty seven. Snatch, Clean and Jerk and Deadlift, all broken by at least ten percent, and his personal best was destroyed by a clear thirty percent. Obviously drugs were suspected, but all his tests came back clean. Though they are withholding official recognition of his results until further tests are done. When asked… and get a load of this, Trey, this is funny… how he improved so much in such a short time, he answered that Thor, the god of thunder has blessed him, and that his strength is now that of a giant. Jesus, dude has been watching too many Marvel moves.”
“Yeah, sounds like a load of shit to me. Must be drugs, a new undetectable one no doubt. I guess that is why we are being asked if we want to investigate? Still… I could use such a drug myself. I’d love to boost my muscles further.”
“No way Trey, if the side effects are believing in fictional superheroes or something, I’d rather you did without. Just hit the gym some more. This one’s a bust, no thanks.” Throwing the file down onto the table she looked at the second, face twisting in displeasure.
“Ugh, this one looks like it sucks too, but there’s a lot less travelling involved…” her whiskey had arrived, and she gulped it down, letting out a loud belch afterwards, drawing attention from the other people in the bar. “This one’s from Utah. The Reverend Joseph Young, a fairly famous preacher, has declared that the end of the world is nigh, but that ‘the faithful shall be saved’. Typical bullshit. The guy claims to have been blessed by God too, having ‘healing hands’ or some such crap. The mission is to infiltrate and check out the rumours. Pay is lousy though, and … well, you know we don’t like Utah. They aren’t fond of our sort…”
“Yeah scratch that one. Some other suckers can do that. Still, there seems to be a load of crazies popping out of the woodwork all of a sudden.” The singer had finished his next song and had joined a group of fellow cross-dressers and some women wearing sharp male suits. Gotta love this bar. Always interesting people around… oh, that had almost slipped my mind. “Yeah, I have a buddy at DARPA, good lad, works out and looks great in a tight pair of shorts… oh come on, stop glaring, I’ll get to the point. Anyways, he messaged me a couple of days ago saying that the brass were all abuzz about something going down in the military, and that they had pulled a few men out of the army for… some sort of new top-secret project that could change the face of warfare.”
“If it’s top secret, how come the dumbass is telling you?” Aliyah was throwing back another whiskey sourly.
“Well, we do go.. way back… he was a keeper, shame work interfered.” He sighed, remembering the fun they shared. “Anyway, I just thought it was interesting. Being DoD and core military, no way we are getting any slice of that pie… so come on, what’s next?”
Aliyah looked at the third file, letting out a low whistle. “This one is real big money. Enough to retire on…”
“Oh, go on.”
“First up, how’s your Russian?” she asked.
“Ah, неплохо.” he replied, looking proud, only for his sister to shoot him a death glare.
“Not bad, not bad? I should have known, that was all you could say two years ago as well. I should have known better, you never study!” she took a swing at him with her solid fist, and he ducked back, swaying out of the way.
“Hey, watch it sis, you nearly injured my face. I can’t be having that, can I?”
“Oh just shut it. Luckily mine isn’t terrible, and a few of the lads speak it passably… anyway, take a look at this.” She passed over the photograph that was with the file. It was a long-lens shot of a young girl with two adults that might have been her parents. The girl was small and pale, with porcelain white skin, long silver hair and pink-red eyes.
“She’s a bit young, but a real cutie.” Aliyah approved. “Looks like albinism by her colouring though. A shame… anyway…” reading from the file she spoke. “Ilya Alexandrovna Kuznetsova. Daughter of a pair of famous scientists. Born with a rare recessive albinism. Found to be a genius. Graduated from the prestigious Moscow Institute of Physics and Technology aged 13 with a PhD in Advanced Robotics and Cutting Edge AI. In the year since she has released several papers revolutionising the study of said fields. Yeah, genius is right, this kid is abnormal.”
“So, let me guess. Kidnapping or assassination, right?” Treyvon asked. Shit, no wonder the money is so good. I’m not down for killing kids.
“You got it. Full extraction, she is wanted alive. The money is spectacular, but the risks… nah, I think we should pass. The file says she is constantly guarded by a team of elites. Money can’t buy you life, right?” she finished her third whiskey, starting to look tipsy.
Oh damn, if my sister doesn’t cool it on the hard stuff she’s going to start doing that again. We like this bar, I don’t want us to get barred. It’s always a pain finding somewhere comfortable not too far from HQ…
“Hey, there’s a couple of files left.” He prompted. “Maybe one of them will be a winner?
Opening up the next file Aliyah smiled. “Well Trey, looks like you can be right once in a while. This one looks right up our street. The pay isn’t spectacular, but the destination is sweet. An investigative mission, with a potential bonus should there be a valid target to capture. It’ll tide the squad over until a better job comes along, here, what do you think?”
Treyvon took the file and scanned it. Yes, I see. This might be just what the Black Wolf Company is looking for. Feeling glad that he had an excuse to interrupt his sister’s drinking, he stood. “Come on, we should look into this one a bit more, find out the details.”
“Oh and I was just about to start looking for some fun. There must be some cuties somewhere…” Aliyah complained, but he stood up, bringing the confidential files with her.
Damn, that was great timing. This place was nearly history…