Freelancers: Falcon & Phoenix (4 page)

T
wo steel barrels
are all that make up the entrance to the Freelancer Outpost. Flames dance inside the rusted drums as some people stand around them for warmth from the cool wind moving in with the storm.

The little car slowly creeps between the barrels. Those standing around them snicker as it passes.

“No, this isn’t embarrassing. Not at all.” Falcon smiles half-heartedly through the window.

“It got us here. That’s all that matters,” Phoenix tells him.

They pass by a wooden sign that says [HONOR THE DEAL]. “The rule to live by,” Falcon says.

A few buildings make up the small outpost. Three of them are selling gear and weapons. Two more are a fuel station and a bar/hotel. The rest are remnants of old businesses and homes. All of them boarded up except for those whose only remains are the concrete foundations. The place still serves the same purpose it did in the old world—a little stop off to grab a quick rest between long distance travels.

Phoenix stops the car in front of one of the shops. A plastic, sun-faded sign sits on the chain link fence. The only words still recognizable are [FINE AUTOS]. Falcon and Phoenix open their doors and both try to get out but the handcuffs stop them. Each turns to the other, expecting to be followed out on their side. Phoenix jerks her arm and Falcon relents. He crawls through the short car and exits out of the driver’s side.

Two cars rest on the other side of the fence. One is smaller and looks like it could be fast. The other is bigger and probably carries more fuel.

“One for me, one for you?”

Phoenix turns to him. Her eyes say, ‘Don’t you dare.’

“Then I would suggest the faster one,” Falcon says. “Just in case we run into more problems.”

Phoenix drags him toward the fence. She looks at the large man standing between the two vehicles, arms folded across his chest. “Hey. I need a car. Where’s the Dealer?”

The guard points toward the bar. Phoenix looks back at the building. Just as on the street in the Capital City, people mill around outside of the bar/hotel. Some are more drunk than others. A woman and a man trade hard punches in one another’s stomachs like some kind of game.

“Maybe we should just wait here,” Falcon says. “I’m sure the Dealer will be back, soon.”

“He’s playing the Trader’s Game,” the guard tells them.

“So he’s gonna be a while,” Falcon says, dejected.

“Let’s go.” Phoenix steps forward and tugs on the cuffs. Falcon digs in his heels. “What’s wrong with you? Who’s in there?”

“Better you don’t know.” He steps in closer to her. “Let’s just jump the fence. Jump this guy. And jump the car.”

Phoenix looks at the guard. He’s twice the size of Big Wang. And not just because of his oversized stomach.

“Are you trying to get me banned from this place, too?” She looks back at Falcon. The fear in his eyes is genuine. And if he hadn’t already put her through so much in one day, she might be tempted to feel sympathetic toward whatever his plight was and wait for the Dealer to come to her. But he
has
put her through so much and she wants to get on the road as fast as she can. The quicker they’re in and out, the quicker they can get ahead of the storm. “We don’t have time for this.” She jerks at the cuffs, pulling Falcon forward.

“Fine…Maybe she’s forgotten.” He steps forward to keep pace.

The bar is nearly full of people conversing and carrying on. Some tell stories of their lives in the old world. Others tell harrowing stories about contract pursuits. Falcon overhears those, specifically. He rolls his eyes. Half of them are embellishing the events to make them sound more harrowing than they were. Others tell stories that are less exciting than the tellers remember them. Some of the tables have people playing various games of skill and chance, with weapons on the table as wagering items. And some people are just making deals or trading goods with one another.

Falcon does his best to keep his head down. His eyes dart around the room. There are few people in here that he would call friend. Many of them are outright enemies of some sort. But his biggest concern is
on
the person he can’t see. Fortunately she doesn’t seem to be around and no one else appears to recognize him…yet.

“There he is.” Phoenix pulls Falcon to a table at the back of the room. Five chairs circle the table but only four people sit around it. And only one of them matters to Phoenix. The man in the wide-brimmed hat. The Dealer.

Phoenix steps around to the empty chair. “I need a car.”

The Dealer doesn’t look up as he shuffles a dirty deck of playing cards. “What’s wrong with the little box you drove in here? Seems like the perfect size for you.”

The others at the table laugh.

“It’s fine. I just need more room for my hat.” Phoenix takes a jab at the Dealer. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

The front of the man’s hat moves slowly up to reveal the Dealer’s shark-like features. He looks at Phoenix then at Falcon. A glint forms in his eyes and he leans back in his chair.

“You gonna sell me one or not?” Phoenix asks.

“That depends. You got something I want?”

“I’ve got currency.”

“So do I.” He pulls out three large stacks of paper money and sets them on the table. “Mine’s in all the colors, too.”

Phoenix looks down at the bricks of money. It’s more than she’s accustomed to seeing. Her eyes move back up to the Dealer’s. “You need a job done? I’ve got skills that—”

“Lacy! Get your fine ass over here, girl.” The Dealer reaches a hand out and a woman walks over to him. She wears high heels and a pair of tight denim cut-offs. Her top is a loose fitting button-up shirt. The top three buttons are gone. The Dealer pulls her into his lap. “This is Lacy. She’s got skills, too. Are your skills as good as hers? Maybe we can find out, later.”

Phoenix reaches down for her gun at the insult.

“Go on and get us a room. Fix it up real pretty, for me,” the Dealer says, pushing Lacy back to her feet. He smacks her on the rear as she walks away. “Skills? Hell, everyone in this fine outpost has skills.” He looks back at Phoenix. “But I’ll tell you what. You do have something I want. And it ain’t currency and it ain’t skills.” His eyes slowly move to Falcon.

“This guy?” Phoenix tries to play off Falcon’s importance. “This guy’s not worth a vehicle.”

“Then you won’t mind trading him for one. Seeing as how I’d be getting the raw end of that deal.”

Phoenix and the Dealer stare holes through one another. He knows who Falcon is and he knows she needs a car. She knows he’s not going to give her a car without having to give up her prisoner. She shifts her gaze to Falcon. “Is there anyone who isn’t after you?”

Falcon wishes he had a good answer. But all he manages is a tired exhale.

“I’ll tell you what.” The Dealer tosses two cards face down toward the empty chair. He places two more in front of himself. “You play me at this game and see what’s what. If you win, you get whatever car you want and you get to keep your contract. If I win, I get your contract and you go upstairs and let Lacy show you the ropes. Literally. I’ll even give you a crutch.” He points at Falcon. “Seeing as how you two are joined at the chain, he can help you if you need it. Though I gotta say, ‘ol Falcon’s never been much for the games of chance.”

“You’re telling me.” Phoenix looks at her prisoner. “How do you play?” She sits down in the empty chair.

“Simple math. Closest to twenty-one wins. You get twenty-one. You win. Face cards and aces are worth eleven. Everything else is its own value. These are pretty high stakes so we’ll play three of five.” The Dealer holds out his hand. “We got a deal?”

Phoenix looks at the offered hand then down at the cards lying face down in front of her. She takes the Dealer’s hand and they shake on it.

T
he Dealer looks
under his cards. Phoenix follows along. She sees a total of fifteen. He flips his cards over, revealing thirteen.

“Seeing as you got the partner, you won’t mind if I go first.” The Dealer takes one card from the top of the deck. It’s a five. “Think I’ll stay.”

Phoenix flips her cards, revealing a thirteen. She takes a card from the deck. It’s a seven.

“Yes,” Falcon says.

“Beginner’s luck.” The Dealer sweeps his cards to the side. Phoenix does the same. Two more are dealt for him and two for her. They both look under their cards before flipping them over.

The Dealer takes one card. Then another. Twenty.

“You either match him or get twenty-one,” Falcon says as he stares at the twelve in front of Phoenix. She draws a card from the deck. Three. She draws another. Seven. Bust. The Dealer smiles as he slides his cards to the side.

“Why don’t you deal this hand?” The Dealer lays his hands flat on the table. Phoenix takes two cards off the top and slides them to her opponent. She takes two and pulls them in front of herself.

The Dealer looks at his cards and immediately flips them over. “Look at that.” He laughs as the Ace and Queen stare up at the ceiling. “That’s gonna be you and me, later.” He winks at Phoenix.

A cold shudder goes down her spine.

“Honor the deal,” Falcon says.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Phoenix tells him through her clenched jaw.

“I wanted to steal the car, remember?”

Phoenix flips her cards over, revealing nineteen. She pulls one more card. It’s a five.

The Dealer leers at her as he slides two more cards her way. He looks at his and flips them over. Another twenty-one. “Sorry, girly. It just ain’t your…Day.” His speech slows as Phoenix flips her cards over. An ace and a King. Push. “Ok. Ok.” They both slide their cards to the side.

Phoenix looks at Falcon who has a hopeful smile on his face. “What are you so happy about? Either way you’re going to the Ivory.”

“Yeah, but at least with you, I won’t be tortured.”

“Good luck with that.” She watches as the Dealer slides two cards in front of her. “He’s only got to win this one hand.”

“But if he doesn’t, you play another three out of five. There’s still a chance.”

Both players flip their cards over. Phoenix shows a total of four while the Dealer sits on seven. Phoenix takes one card. Three. She takes another. Five. She takes one more. Seven.

“Nineteen,” Falcon says.

Phoenix starts to reach for another.

“Wait. You should stay.”

“What?” Phoenix turns to him.

“If you get anything but a three, it’s over. It’s too close. Stay. Trust me.”

Phoenix reluctantly pulls her hand back from the deck. “Stay.”

The Dealer reaches for the top card of the deck and pulls it to himself. His expression looks less than happy. It gives Falcon and Phoenix a measure of hope. “That’s a smart move you just made.” He starts to lay the card face up. “Ordinarily.” He lays the three down.

Phoenix shoulders slump in defeat.

“Don’t look so sad. You still got a shot.” The Dealer smiles as he reaches for the deck.

“One,” Falcon mutters.

“What?” Phoenix looks at the card. It’s a two.

The Dealer reaches for the deck.

“Two,” Falcon mutters again.

The Dealer turns up the card. It’s a five.

“Better get ready.” Falcon’s shoulders tense.

“Ready for what?” Phoenix asks.

“Moment of truth.” The Dealer reaches for the deck, again. He grabs the top card and starts to turn it over.

“Three.” Falcon grabs the table and flips it up toward the Dealer. A couple of the other players fall backwards in their chairs at the surprise maneuver. The Dealer stumbles back, knocking his chair over as he tries to stand up. He draws his gun while trying to keep balance.

In the commotion, Phoenix pulls her own gun and swings it around the room. Firearms of various types all seem to come out from everyone in the place. The Dealer gets his legs to steady under him. His long-barreled silver revolver is pointed directly at Falcon.

“I’ll just have to add that little infraction to the list of others you’ve accumulated.”

“We still have a deal.” Phoenix turns her gun to the Dealer. “I need him alive.”

“So did I. But now, I think I’ll just take my winnings in one shot.” The Dealer pulls the hammer back on his revolver.

“Honor the deal!” Falcon squares his shoulders.

“Deal was with her. Not you.”

“Well now it’s off. You gonna give me that car, now?” Phoenix’s tone is demanding.

“You can have the car when he’s dead.”

A major blast shakes the bar. Everyone, whether they’re holding a weapon or not, ducks down at the sound. The whole room appears to turn around all together. Behind the bar is a woman in a leather duster. A long scar runs from the middle of her forehead down across her eye all the way to her jaw. The iris and pupil of her scarred eye is completely white. She holds two combat shotguns in front of her but only stares at Falcon. “He’s mine.”

The other weapons quickly disappear back into holsters and various hiding places.

The Dealer keeps his gun out and on Falcon. “This one owes me, Rosario. A deal’s a deal. He broke that.”

“You’re the one who walked,” Falcon fires back at the woman behind the bar.

“I don’t care about whatever deal the two of you had. This is a personal matter.” Rosario turns one of the guns toward Phoenix. “I don’t know who you are or why you’ve got him cuffed to you but you’re going to let him loose or the only thing that will still be attached to him is going to be your severed arm.”

“Let me guess. Crazy ex?” Phoenix mutters.

Falcon leans in toward Phoenix. “She’s why I didn’t want to come here.”

“Everyone just relax. He’s my contract. I honor my deals.” Phoenix tries to calm the situation.

“I didn’t make that deal.” The Dealer swings his gun back and forth between Phoenix and Rosario.

“Neither did I.” Rosario keeps her guns trained on Phoenix and the Dealer.

Falcon grabs Phoenix’s gun and fires off a round at Rosario. She ducks. The Dealer takes a shot at the bar only because he’s already facing that direction. Falcon rushes toward the Dealer, jerking Phoenix along. The two cuffed Freelancers clothesline the man in the hat as they pass him. He falls to the ground and, reactively, pulls the trigger on his gun. The bullet wings the leg of another man who pulls his gun and fires a shot at the Dealer. It just misses but it’s too late and the two get into a firefight of their own.

Rosario pops up from behind the bar and takes a shot toward her front door just as Falcon and Phoenix pass through it. The entire bar roars with the sound of gunfire as other Freelancers tangle with one another. Most of them keep
ing
each other’s guns aimed at the ceiling while fighting to keep from getting shot. The sound of so many guns going off echoes out into the street, getting the attention of everyone in the outpost.

Falcon and Phoenix run toward the Dealer’s car lot. Falcon’s foot hits the trunk of the small car first. Phoenix doesn’t waver or quarrel with him about it. She just follows. The two launch themselves from the roof of the little car to the top of the gate. The guard sluggishly runs toward the fence to stop them.

They climb over the gate and hit the ground. With barely enough time to form a plan, they’re almost barreled over by the guard but Falcon spins in the opposite direction, yanking Phoenix into him. The two come out of the spin to see the guard crashing into the fence. The chain links stretch out toward the street from the impact of the heavy man. His size threatens to tear the gate it from its hinges.

He pushes himself off of the fence and turns to the runners. Falcon rushes the guard, hoping that Phoenix will get the idea as he runs his shoulder right into the man’s belly. She copies the move but even the force of their combined weight is not enough to knock the man off his feet. The guard takes only two small steps backwards before his large fist meets Falcon’s face. The impact sends Falcon backwards, taking Phoenix with him down to the ground.

The guard raises his heavy booted foot and brings it down towards Falcon. Falcon rolls out of the way and on top of Phoenix just in time. She shoves him off and scrambles to her feet.

“Stop them!” The Dealer yells as he runs out of the bar, bullets whizzing by him. The command distracts the guard just long enough for Falcon to get to his feet.

“Clothesline him.” Falcon runs toward the guard. Phoenix follows. The two leap to get up to the guard’s neck. The chain of the handcuffs finds its mark but it does little good. They still aren’t heavy enough to take the large man down.

Before their feet can hit the ground, the guard swings his arms around the two of them and he runs forward to leap into the air, taking the two of them with him. The guard lands on his stomach, slamming Falcon and Phoenix to the ground.

“Gotta employ more competent people.“ The Dealer stops in the middle of the street and takes careful aim at Falcon. A shot gun swings into his stomach like a bat.

“He’s mine.” Rosario aims her other gun toward the car lot and fires off a round. The buck shot seems to go everywhere except for her target. Both she and the Dealer run for the chain link fence.

Falcon and Phoenix manage to get their cuffed arms out from under the guard who struggles to get up. They swing their fists down at the back of the big man’s neck. His face goes straight to the concrete. He doesn’t move after that.

“Is he dead?” Phoenix asks.

A bullet hits one of the cars. “Does it matter?” Falcon works himself out from under the guard’s heavy arm. Phoenix does the same and the two run for the cars. Each of them has a different idea about which one to take.

“We need to get out of here, quick.” Falcon motions for the fast car.

“We need to be able to make the whole trip.” Phoenix motions for the larger gas tank.

The jangling of the fence catches their attention. They turn to see Rosario climbing up and the Dealer fumbling with the gate lock. Falcon uses the distraction to pull Phoenix toward the fast car. He opens the unlocked door and crawls inside, not even thinking about how Phoenix is, once again, behind the wheel.

“He leaves the keys in?” Phoenix turns the ignition.

“He’s got a mountain for a guard. Hit the gas.”

Falcon watches as the Dealer gets the gate open the same time as Rosario jumps down. She aims one gun at the car and pulls the trigger. The scatter shot hits the hood and the bottom of the windshield, cracking it across half of its surface.

“I’m gonna get banned from here, too.” Phoenix puts the car in drive.

“Welcome to my world,” Falcon says as she hits the gas and races toward Rosario. The scarred woman dives out of the way. She rolls back to her feet and fires both guns at the speeding vehicle.

The Dealer runs into a garage behind the only car left in the lot. Rosario runs back to her bar.

“Every time.” Phoenix hits the steering wheel. “Now we’re in this thing. It’s gonna eat twice as much gas as the other.”

“Who cares? Now we can get away faster.”

“That won’t matter if we have to stop more often. Your contract is quickly becoming less worth it.”

“You should have thought about that before you took it,” Falcon tells her.

“I thought it would be an easy job.”

“I’ll try not to take offense.”

Phoenix looks in her rearview mirror. “I hope this thing is as fast as you think it is.

Falcon looks in his side mirror then turns around in his seat. Two vehicles tear onto the road and quickly gain on the escaping car. Both cars look like they’ve had major enhancements.

“I didn’t know they had those,” Falcon turns to Phoenix.