Home Turf

This is part 2 of a mini series! Part 1, Home Turf: A job, is up on my profile!

Tag awoke to icy water dripping on her face. Directly above her were the leaking beams of a roof, from which water drops fell in regular intervals. A drop landed on her lips and she sensed the metallic taste of rust.

She was lying on the floor, she realized, with her hands tied crudely behind her back. The dark, lofty interior of the building she was in indicated that it was one of the warehouses. So they hadn’t taken her far, whoever they were. Her mind was already racing through a list of potential enemies, but she hadn’t been in the city long enough to make many. Could it be someone who remembered her? God knew she had had plenty of enemies before. But who knew her from back then?

She turned her head and saw a handful of men in the shadows of the dim room. The one closest to her was the man in the red cap, although he had discarded his cap now, perhaps to be less noticeable. When Tag made eye contact, he stepped forward and coughed, once. “You can hear me?”

Tag nodded, rolled onto her side, and sat up. Whatever they had done to knock her out, she felt no bad effects from it, in fact, she felt fine. Fine enough to run a knife through your collective throats, she thought, eyeing the man and his companions, who stayed in the shadows. But first she had to get out what they wanted.

“I been watching you,” the man said. “I used to know your boss.” Jasper. The thought jumped quickly to her mind. They knew who she was. They knew of the businesses she had run, maybe even better than she knew herself. Where had she met them before? What had she done to them? There were a thousand possibilities. A lie, a trick, a snapped wrist or a slit throat. Whatever it was, it was coming to bite her in the back now.

“I used to work for your boss,” the man went on. “He sent you to meet a man in a red cap today.” Relief flooded through Tag’s mind and she almost laughed out loud. Not Jasper, you idiot. You can’t jump to conclusions, she chided herself.

“I met the wrong one,” she said aloud. “I know, I know. You tricked me, congratulations. Now get on with it. What do you want?”

The man—Seth, he called himself?—barely seemed taken aback. “I want the money,” he said. “Fifty coins paid upfront, fifty more when the job’s done.”

He had the numbers right, Tag thought, but only partly. He was ignoring the fifty coins for their contact, the real man in the red cap, and the twenty percent she had taken of her own accord—a stipend, to pay for her time.

“The job isn’t done,” she said aloud. “I only have fifty. What’s more, it won’t get done now that you’ve taken our contact out of commission, or whatever it is you did to him, so good luck getting the other fifty.”

“I only need fifty. Where are they?” Seth stepped forward eagerly. Tag wondered if they had already searched her while she lay unconscious, and the thought made her shudder. They could have done anything. The one thing she knew they had not done, was take any money off of her, because that she kept hidden away where no one could find it.

“Untie me and I’ll give it to you,” she promised. Seth waved to one of the men in the background, and he came forward and cut Tag’s ropes with a knife. She swung her arms, taking her time to be sure she could move, before reaching into her coat. Seth eyed her suspiciously as she drew out a small pouch. She tossed it over to him. “Fifty coins, help yourself.”

She didn’t bother telling him that these were not her own pay, but rather meant for the man he was impersonating, and he didn’t seem inclined to ask. He really wasn’t too bright, Tag couldn’t believe that he’d managed to orchestrate her capture so easily. He rifled quickly through her bag, then set to counting the money, counting it over twice before he was satisfied. He grunted and shoved the pouch into his pocket.

“You don’t want another fifty?” Tag remarked pleasantly.

He squinted at her, frowning. “How so?”

Tag shrugged. “If my contact’s alive I can get you another.”

“He is alive.”

“Care to tell me where you stuck him?”

“I’ll let you figure that out yourself. I don’t need the other fifty, and if I let you go, you’ll be free to go hunting up your man as much as you like.” He turned away as if uninterested in continuing the conversation, and nodded to one of his men. “Tie her back up,” he ordered. “I don’t want her running off yet.”

The man hurried to obey, and tied Tag’s hands behind her again, shoving her down to the ground. Seth waited impatiently, then waved his men toward the warehouse doors.

“Come on, there’s work to be done,” he told them. Tag watched them all disappear through the doors into the darkness outside. She heard the door lock, and then the footsteps of the men faded into the distance. She tested the ropes around her wrists. Seth was in for a surprise. She would be out of the warehouse before the moon rose.