"Fuck!" It was Josh with his dog. Still, I knew that if it were one of Baakir Sekibo's police that I'd have done the right thing. Josh couldn't blame me for that, surely?
"Say the password." I held my gun aimed at his head.
"Sekibo wears womens knickers."
"I'm sorry Josh, It's 'Baakir Sekibo' I'll have to shoot you."
"Nice to see you haven't lost your sense of humor."
"That's me!" I lowered my trusty Smith and Wesson .357 revolver and pushed it back through my false pocket, into my garter belt.
"It's isn't funny though." He looked back at his truck. "Do you think it's salvageable?"
"Should be, there was only enough to tip you."
"Yeah, well if it's not I trust you will pay for it to be fixed and at a trust-able mechanic - I don't have the time to do it myself."
"Don't be such a wuss, all we have to do is tip it back up and even the suspension won't be shot."
"Help me then?"
"Where do you want me to push from then?"
"Don't, hold Alex. I'm pushing." He passes the lead to me. God! I'm a fucking soldier like him, not just some woman who can't help!
He, after some grunts and a few "fuck" and "this is your fault" 's he had the jeep back on it's wheels.
"Any other help I can be sir? Freshen your tea? Run you a bath?"
"I can get my car back up myself, I don't need your help. Give me back Alex." He took Alex back and drove off, turning his radio on quite high with some crappy music from a foreign channel. You see, all the radio over here was just political announcements from Sekibo and music that was approved by him. I couldn't judge him for that.
I pulled my motorcycle from the undergrowth and revved a second, savoring the vibration of my beautiful black Yamaha Thundercat 1000cc. It purred.
The smoke in the nightclub curled high to the ceiling and The thump of the bass could be felt hard in your bones. This was my preferred workplace though. There would always be some form of official to find here to 'interrogate'. I soon spotted my current target. Mohamed Huran, a greasy olive skinned politician who was key in getting Sekibo into power. I'm sure I could think of some was of 'persuading' him into telling me a few things.
I pulled the top button of my blouse loose and walked over. "Hi. Can I get you a drink?" This should work.
"And I was about to say just the same thing to such a lovely lady very much like yourself. What do you drink my pretty." He didn't say that, it was too cliché. I bit my tongue.
"I'm drinking whatever you are."
"Perfect." He lifted my hand and kissed the knuckle very gently. Oh, how I remember when this sort of thing may have worked. Well, it never did, but I meant his manners; they were impeccable for someone who'd befriended Sekibo.
He raised his hand and looked over the throng of people around us. His reputation went before him and the crowd parted. "Two glasses of anything nice and strong my good man." Now this was majorly cliché - I knew he was thinking about how easily he could get into my pants. Never, that's for sure. "I hope it won't be too strong for you."
"I'm sure it won't be." I was lead to a booth that had been empty all night. Classy.
The barman brought the drinks over to our booth, they were a dull yellow, filled with ice. I watched how he quickly gulped down the whole drink in one. I picked it up, testing it quickly to see if it had been spiked. It wasn't and I took a sip for show. It was a very strong, yet tasty one. Tonight was going to take a while.