Under the Boardwalk
Copyright© 2018 by Lapi
Chapter 13
Into every life, a little rain ... but a downpour?
Eileen’s father, more sputtering than ineligible, uttered, “Get her now, What do you think you are doing you ungr...”
Now Marta was usually cool, calm and collected; she had to be in her line of work. Today, after ensuring a new plane was ready on-time, overseeing a few, a few dozen ‘improvements’, a Trans-Atlantic flight and playing ‘Mother Hen’ to a bunch of newbie slaves; she was not in a good mode. No Sir, not good at all.
John, Eileen’s father alone she could have put up with; but when his men went to ‘take’ Eileen away from her, years of living on instinct for survival automatically brought her to ‘action station’. Her, “Stop them!” to no one in particular, caused an immediate stop to John’s men to happen.
One of the small changes she added, on her own mind you, was the inclusion of some security on the ride over. In addition to some Medicos on-board, she had Marcel, Tony and Marin, men she knew and trusted, ready for almost anything including targets for a ‘TOW’ or low fliers that using a ‘Stinger Missile’ against, might deter. John’s men never knew what ‘devastation’ might have happened had they not frozen in their tracks.
Now it was Marta’s turn as John was wide-eyed and looked like he had wet himself! He was used to ‘getting’ his own way.
“Look ‘Ass-wipe’, I am in a bit of a rush, not in the best of moods and really not interested in ‘playing games’; besides, you are not my type.”
After a deep breath, she went on.
“I was briefly filled in about you, ‘Fat, dumb and full of yourself’ sums up what I was told. Now as I see it you and your ‘puff boys’ have two options. I have the guns, the plane and orders to take the ‘Slaves’ home. Wait-a-second, you don’t have any options. You don’t even see those nice young men behind you holding guns who will be taking you and yours to a nice quiet and isolated place where you will be given a better understanding of the lyrics to the song ‘Bad Boys’ and taught ‘never to threaten she who holds the gun’.
A smile, no a leer, came to her face.
“I so much would have enjoyed participating in it but ‘Alas poor John’ my plane awaits and ‘time is money’, you understand that don’t you John?”
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