Why was I born a woman?
Top Hat reached out and groped her through leather gloves. First he tried a breast. That must have disappointed him, because he switched from ove
rhand to underhand and shoved it underneath the front of her jacket and between her legs.
“Is that all?” she asked. “Kid, I’ve been fingered by men with artificial arms that did a better job.”
He didn’t understand the English, but he took the tone as a challenge. He pulled up his hand, stuck the middle finger of his glove between his teeth, pulled it off, leaving the glove hanging there giving her the finger, and wormed his hand into her waistband.
A swirl of motion to the right caught her eye.
“Enough of that,” Valentine said. He’d drawn his old .45, the backup pistol he carried everywhere, and now held it leveled at Top Hat boy’s head. “Let’s not get piggy.” His line of fire was well clear of her, but not the rest of the gang, and a few of them shifted.
The Black Youth produced weapons of their own. Mostly they were edged weapons, and a couple of short, sharp fishing gaffs that were probably more threatening-looking in theory than practice. But one boy had a double-barreled shotgun with a few inches sawn off the end that could take out half their party if it had buckshot in it.
Most of them were eyeing Ahn-Kha. And keeping out of his reach. So they had a certain amount of street smarts.
“Translate for me,” Sime said to their guide.
“Let’s all settle down,” Sime said, stepping forward and holding his arms out in each direction, one toward Valentine and the other toward the boy with the shotgun. He gave the translator time to catch up. “If anyone shoots, there’ll be bodies in somebody’s cow pasture. The authorities can’t ignore that. They’ll call out soldiers to sweep the woods. No matter how good your hideout is, they’ll find it.
“I have here two gold coins. Maybe I have more, but you’d have to kill all of us to get them, and we have powerful friends. I’m willing to pay to stay the night in this area; that’s one coin. Your silence has a price, too. That’s the second coin. So, what is it going to be? An exchange of gold, or an exchange of lead and blood?”
She was tired of the hand gripping at her pants. She briefly considered using her claws, but instead reached her own hand across, and found the trouser leg with his testicles. She pressed hard and he gave a little yelp and what she recognized was a German profanity. What a fool. Even a backcountry cop in Kansas knew to wear a cup in case of any rough stuff.
“Best take the offer,” Duvalier advised. “Unless you want to be a featured singer with your Youth Vanguard Boys Choir.”
The translator did not bother with that, but the kid got the message. The deadly embrace released, they stepped away from each other.
The leader of the mob took the coins and kissed them before pocketing them deep in his jacket. Then he laughed in Sime’s face.
“A most friendly gesture,” he said through the translator. “Be on your way with our permission.”
A couple of the youths spat as they moved off. Not on anyone, of course, but the general intent was clear.
“See, Valentine,” Sime said. “We still have all our limbs. It doesn’t always have to end in blood.”
Valentine shot Sime an angry look. Valentine evidently wanted to treat the mob like a mob and shoot one or two, which would no doubt disperse the rest.
“Ja. Yes,” the leader said. He waved his gang back and then did a strange little flourish that involved his hand and forehead being directed at Sime, wincing a little as he bent slightly at the waist in pain.
“If you give every two-bit thug gold to leave us alone, we’ll be broke in forty-eight hours,” Duvalier said.
Sime shrugged. “I was told in my briefing that this would be the only difficult part of the journey, getting inland on the German coast. There are experts helping us with the rest.”
“Expertise like that almost got us killed outside of Halifax,” Valentine said.
“I suppose we could strike out on our own,” Sime responded smoothly. “Except we don’t know where we’re going. What do you say, Valentine? Warsaw? Oslo?”
“Everyone is getting raw,” Ahn-Kha said. “We need some food and a hot drink.”
“You feeling okay?” Valentine asked her.
“It’s just my crotch. I’ve had plenty of scumbags cop a quick feel. At least this one was young and reasonably good-looking. Body odor like a summer swamp, but good-looking. Now we’re out Sime’s bribe.”
“They would have run,” Valentine said.
“What about the shotgun?”