Pogo's Very Long Day

I've seen guys try, and watched as their clever plans and practiced lines died before launch. It's that obvious.

A wicked smile crept on her features. "They'll be hungry by sunset. He said the two of you could have saved time and just thrown the food into the sea yourselves."

I chuckled to myself, reflecting that no matter how rich you are, you can't buy sea legs.

"I'll have plenty of steak."

Something flickered over Angel's features. "Can you make some of that Street Chicken? Some of the wives don't like steak or fish that much. Maybe fifteen breasts."

Street Chicken is another specialty of the Shack. You can buy it off street carts from Bangkok to Phnom Penh to Hanoi. It's pretty simple and its really best made with thighs, but rich people don't do chicken thighs. Just soy sauce, garlic, onion, black pepper and a little palm sugar -- brown sugar will do in a pinch, a little vegetable oil. Marinade it for an hour if you can. It's amazing made over charcoal. Skin on. That's especially critical with chicken breasts, they'll dry out otherwise. I'd have to make at least six times what Angel asked for -- the smell of the chicken goes down the beach forever and draws in wandering tourists like a magnet. They'd pay the beach party fee for just a taste of the chicken.

"I'll go check -- I can always send over to Nomo for more if I don't have it.

She gave me a smiled "thank you" but there was a hint of something I couldn't read in it. Sadness, maybe. Almost expressionless. Odd on her. She was the happiest person I knew, other than Grease, of course.

I walked back toward the store room; Ex followed, telling me she wanted to grab a couple packets of cookies for the girls while I was in there.

Angel's sadness. Something was wrong, I knew it. I distractedly clicked the light to the storeroom and walked in.

I was sure something was wrong. I just couldn't figure out what.

Until Ex clicked the door shut behind her.

"Monster knows about your plan."

I felt air suck out of my lungs.

I was a dead man. I had a chance. Less than a chance really. If I could reach the shotgun behind the chest freezer. Probably less than 10 percent, even if I got to it before Monster came through that door.

"Don't."

A different voice. From a figure perched on the chest freezer.

I watched horrified as Danni drew a subcompact .45 from under her sarong. That liquid economy of force and effortless speed, almost too fast to follow. The tiny twisting wrist movement as she drew.

"Monster taught you."

She smiled with a touch of pride. "Dad made me practice all the time."

"It shows."

Keep them talking. If they're talking, they're not shooting. I edged sideways slightly, hands up just a bit, until I could see Ex, leaning back against the door. Get them both in sight.

It wouldn't help this time.

The gun muzzle followed my center mass like it was alive, effortlessly and smoothly. As if Monster were holding it.

There'd be no chance. If he drilled her that well, shooting me would simply be reflex.

Ex was unarmed, but through that door... the old map warning "Here Be Monsters".

They were both in on it. And Angel had sent me here. She must have known.

Ex shifted her stance.

"We need to talk. Monster figured out that you know he's... different now."

I didn't bother denying anything, it'd just waste time. Cause frustration.

"He's operating. In the States. No sanction. And we saw him before he had his cover figured out."

"He's protecting the children... and the grandchildren."

I thought about that for a second, but it didn't change the main problem.

"With your guidance. And with you tempering him. Where does it go if something happens to you?"

"He has a plan for that."

She let that hang.

Danni shifted. "I'm the plan."

"He'll listen to you?"

She breathed in deeply. Once. "That. Or... he knows he could accidently become a threat to the grandkids. So he's been training me since I was seven. He wouldn't be able bring himself to kill me, even if he could kill Finn or Patrick. Probably not them, but definitely not me."

I blinked. Monster had trained, prepared, his own daughter to kill him if she had to.

Ex glanced down. "And we have a backup plan to that."

I closed my eyes for a second, as pieces fell into place. "Kisa and Lily."

That's why the babysitting. Simple transference. The more Monster was around them, the more they became "his".

"And Shameless. To protect them, he'll listen to her." Ex's voice sounded hollow, far away.

Shameless. She called her Shameless. Angel would never send me into a trap, never willingly risk harming a friend. But Shameless? She'd do anything to protect her children. She already had. And there'd be no more lethal guard dog than Monster.

Ex continued. "If something happens to me, to Danni, Monster will move back here. There's no threat here. Not much anyway, and he can watch over Angel's girls. And he knows you can help with that."

"I'll have to tell Howard."

Danni smiled, a slightly predatory smile. "Finn's talking to him now."

She paused, and her smile broadened. "And Patrick is overseeing the installation of a swimming pool at the house. In the back. Just off the patio."

From my expression she could tell they'd guessed right.

"Dad figured that would have given you about a twenty- five percent chance."

"Thirty."

Danni outright grinned at that. "Where'd you get the extra five percent"

"Howard would have been wearing a vest. Frag and a deadman switch"

"Ooh. Wicked. I'll have to remember that."

"So what now?"

Danni slid off the freezer and reholstered her gun in a single smooth motion.

"You have chicken breasts to count, and I have to go pee. My bladder is the size of a peanut right now."

She pushed right by me and Ex let her out the door, then shrugged. "I remember that. Sucks, you have to pee every 15 minutes and it's like three drops."

She looked at me with a hint of sadness. "We appreciate what you and Howard were doing. We really do. But it's taken care of. Danni just wanted this settled before she had the baby. She was being honest when she said it was family stuff. You and Howard are family, you know."

She smiled again, this time with a little humor. "It really is just allergies, Pogo. I promise."

She walked out, leaving me with my mind going a million miles an hour and a whole lot of chicken to bring out.

By the time I was finished, they had all left. They'd even cleared their table.

The beach party was a combination of normal and bizarre. The grill, the fires, the music were all perfect. The trophy wives even seemed to be enjoying themselves, although I was certainly burning through a lot of Tequila, so maybe it was just basic chemistry and biology at work. Things I'd never thought of as odd stood out. Angel and Danni in matching sarongs, giggling over something. Maybe me. I'd never realized how similar their mannerisms were until now. Monster playing pirates with Kisa and Lily, both of whom were laughing and screaming joyfully. Only now I realized that their sword fight was the first Escrima drill we taught to new team members. He was already training them. Like he had his own children.

Ex was watching in frank approval. I wasn't sure whether it was because the girls were having fun or because both the little blonde girls had the fighting stick first form down perfectly.

Angel caught me up the beach as I headed over to pick up more chicken; even my optimistic estimates hadn't come close, tourists were pouring in. I ended up sending a runner down to Nomo for more chicken and more shoyu -- soy sauce.

"I'm sorry."

"I understand, Angel."

"It's for the girls. And Thomas. I have to protect them."

When she said that, her accent was heavier and her brilliant blue eyes seemed to dim.

I didn't want to talk to Shameless. I'd rather talk to Angel.

"It's a great party tonight. The chicken is going as fast as I can make it. It was a really good idea."

She caught the rather unsubtle hint. "I really wanted the chicken for myself. It's my favorite. Sorry for tricking you into it."

A bit of both Angel and Shameless, I'd settle for that.

Grease was as clueless as I had been. I didn't say a word to him. He didn't need to know that although he was married to Angel, Shameless was still watching over all of them.

Clean up took until almost 1 AM. I was writing a sign to announce a late opening of The Shack so I could at least get a little sleep. It's good to be the boss sometimes.

She walked in silently.

Donna was in her usual suit, but her bodyguards were wearing flowered Aloha shirts, of all things. Didn't help hide what they were; a thug in an Aloha shirt looks pretty much like a thug in an Aloha shirt. The fact that their side arms were obvious under the shirts didn't help.

The meaning sunk in.

Spooky.

God Damn It.

My Spooky.

I gripped the bar and felt my knuckles go numb as I tried to breathe. I didn't want to let Donna talk. I didn't want to hear her say it.

Something had gone wrong.

Very wrong. Or Donna would never come here.

She pulled a chair out on the closest table and sat in it primly.

"Sit down, Poz."

She's the only one that calls me that, and only when it's damn serious.

It took forever to walk over to the table. I'd grabbed a bottle of black rum and two glasses on my way, just to stall for time. I just wanted thirty more seconds without having to hear it.

I sat, poured us both a slug and downed mine without pausing and poured another.

She downed hers as well. And waited while I filled the glasses again.

"You know I wouldn't be here if it wasn't serious."

I nodded.

"It's just bad luck. She didn't make any mistakes. Sometimes shit happens."

My second slug went down in one long swallow.

"One more year would've been fifteen. She could've just walked if she wanted to, no questions asked."

She stared at her hands.

A sudden, cruel, hyena-like smile split her face.

"How the hell you knocked her up, I'll never know. We take precautions against that."

It took a second for me to get it, and she continued.

"No way in hell I'm forcing her to get an abortion, or risking my nephew or niece on a damned mission. Shit. Imagine how pissed Mom would be if I got her grandchild killed?"

I glared at her. My own sister thought doing this to me was funny? Danika had gone by "Donna" since before I was born.

She smiled - a real smile. "Don't be an asshole. She's worried to death that you'll kick her out. She's waiting at your place, fucking terrified out of her mind. She's loves you like crazy, you know. She's just not good at saying it. And you know it's your kid. She's a practical girl -- if there was even a hint that it could be anyone else's, she'd have just had an abortion. She stopped doing Swallow and Honey Trap work over a year ago. At her request."

"Why the hell..."

She cut me off, "I wasn't just doing this for kicks. Well, maybe a little. I needed to know you felt the same way before I let you go home."

She paused for a second. "You two may have an age difference, but her life's been rough, so maybe the mileage is closer than you think."

She stood up. "Poz, marry her and bring her around for Christmas, or So Help Me God, I'm telling Mom."

The second she walked out, I had the place closed and was running down the beach.

The sign on The Shack announced it'd be closed all day. Due to Family Issues.

Post Production Notes.

Some potentially unfamiliar terms, just in case:

A deadman or dead man switch detonates if a person is killed -- grip release is common, but there are a lot of other options.

A chicken switch is a remote detonator used by another person if a suicide bomber is injured, killed or loses his/her nerve before detonating. It's also commonly referred to as a buddy fucker switch.

Escrima or Eskrima is a stick fighting martial art from the Philippines that was heavily favored by US Special Mission Units for a very long time, and still is in some of the darker corners.

A Swallow is a female agent who uses sex to entrap, entice or control. A Raven would be the male equivalent.

Honey Trap refers to entrapment operations conducted by a Swallow or Raven.