Nadya’s Nights: Knight of the Living Dead
Night Five: Virus
Chapter Nine: The Pick Up
by Indy McDaniel
Copyright © 2010 Indy McDaniel
The fact that he was slowly transforming into the walking dead didn’t keep Knight from continuing to hit on Lulu while they waited for Vlad to call back with word on the weapons drop. Neither did the looks Nadya was giving him that promised some severe pummeling if he didn’t cut it out. Lulu was also oblivious to the looks. Either due to her attention being focused elsewhere or because she was ignoring them, Nadya wasn’t sure which. She was just relieved when Vlad finally called back.
Hanging up her cell, Nadya looked over to Knight. “C’mon, Romeo. We’ve got some weapons to collect before we go about saving your perverted ass.”
“Hey!” Knight said in a mock offended tone, looking over to Nadya. “I resemble that remark!”
They headed for the exit until Lulu called after them. Nadya stopped and looked back, expecting some kind of extra bit of intel the young hacker had managed to scrounge up.
Instead, she was holding a black leather jacket, which she offered to Knight. “Gets a bit chilly in these parts.”
Knight gave her a smirk and accepted the gift, slipping it on. “Thanks, babe. I owe you one.”
“Damn right, you do,” Lulu replied, grinning. “You can pay up when you bring it back to me.”
Knight nodded. “Count on it.”
Rolling her eyes, Nadya let out a groan. “Hey, Soon-to-be-Walking-Dead-Man. Are you coming or not?”
“Yea, yea…” Knight said, turning back and following Nadya out of the heavily fortified shop full of fancy tech gear. “Y’know, anyone ever tell you you’ve got some serious issues with patience?”
“Tick tock, motherfucker,” Nadya shot back as she exited the shop. “The more time we waste the closer you get to being even more brainless than you already are.” She headed back towards where they’d parked the car.
Knight followed just behind her, taking the opportunity to survey his new partner’s more feminine assets. “What’s the matter? Jealous?”
“Yes. I’m jealous of the fact that you’re not anxiously attempting to infect me with whatever the fuck STD’s you’ve got crawling all over your skanky cock.”
“Harsh,” he muttered. “And I’ll have you know, Plutoxin 7 aside, I’m totally clean. I’m a firm believer in the ‘don’t be a fool, wrap your tool’ philosophy.”
Reaching the car, Nadya let out a sigh of relief. The sooner they got the job finished, the sooner she could get away from him. Or shoot him. Whichever felt like it’d be more gratifying. “So glad we had this insightful conversation. Get in the fucking car.”
“I’m driving.”
“The fuck you are,” Nadya snarled.
“Hey, I stole the goddamn thing. I earned the right to drive,” Knight said, crossing his arms.
Nadya glared back at him. “How long you been in this country, cowboy?”
“A week. What does that matter?”
“It matters cuz I’ve been roaming these parts my whole fucking life. Which means I know my way around better. Which means, if we get into a situation where we need to drive fast and precise, then I’m less likely to drive us down a goddamn dead end.” She extended her hand to him. “Keys.”
Knight sighed. ”Fine.” He tossed her the keys and moved around to the passenger side. “Jealous or not, it’s my professional opinion that you need a good orgasm.”
“Fuck off, asshole,” Nadya muttered, unlocking the car and getting in.
* * * *
Nadya headed to the address Vlad had given her. A bakery. Knight looked out the window at the place with an uncertain expression. “What’re we gonna do? Bake ourselves into a goddamn cake and mail it to them? Surprise!”
“Something like that,” Nadya said, smirking. She shut off the car and got out, heading into the bakery. She’d never been to this front before and she didn’t recognize the man behind the counter.
“Pick up or delivery?” the man asked in thickly accented English.
“Pick up,” Nadya replied. “For Valentina.”
The man nodded, looking bored, and turned to head back into the store room. Nadya looked around the place. To the untrained eye, it looked like a legitimate bakery. She didn’t doubt that the guy running the place actually did know how to bake and even sold it to housewives and small children and whatever other legit customer happened to come through the door. Hell, the goods might not even be half bad. But that’s not what the place was truly meant for.
Still, she thought. While we’re waiting…
She snagged a pastry and started to dig in. It was good. She scarfed it down and reached for another. Her hunger level had been steadily rising all night. Better to solve the problem before diving headfirst into a hornets nest full of bad guys.
The proprietor of the establishment returned with a pair of duffle bags that were most definitely not filled with dough. He set them on the counter and nodded to her. “Check it.”
Nadya finished off her fourth pastry and moved forward, unzipping one bag and fishing into it. She pulled out a fresh pistol, checked the mag and saw the silver tipped bullets ready and waiting. Slamming the mag back in, she racked the gun and slipped it into her waistband.
Slipping off her jacket, she pulled out an ammo bandolier with plenty of extra clips for the handgun, which she slid over her shoulders. She found a second pistol, identical to the first, and went through the same routine before placing it next to the first.
Turning back to Knight, who seemed pretty impressed with the arsenal so far, she motioned to the open bag. “You want something a bit better than that busted piece of shit revolver?”
He actually looked offended by the comment. “No way.” He pulled the gun out and held it up. “This baby’s gotten me outta more jams than I can count.”
Rolling her eyes, Nadya reached into the duffle again and came out with a box of .38 silver rounds, tossing them over to him. “Figured you might say something like that. Load em with that.”
As Knight went about changing out his ammunition, Nadya moved on to the second bag. Opening it, she pulled out an MP5. “Nice…” she muttered, checking the chamber and slinging it over her shoulder. A second bandolier joined the first, this one with extra machine gun clips.
Then she found one of two of the extras she’d requested. Grinning, she pulled the bandolier of grenades out of the bag and turned back to Knight. “Heads up, hound dog,” she said, tossing him the grenades. “Keep these close and don’t go pulling any pins before I tell you to.”
Knight caught the grenades and looked them over. “What’s the plan then? If we don’t trigger the goddamn self destruct we blow up the building ourselves?”
“Something like that,” Nadya said, nodding. She turned back to the bags and double checked them for extra goodies. Nothing but extra ammo clips. She looked up to the man behind the counter. “There should be something else.”
The man’s brow furrowed. “This isn’t enough?”
“Probably not,” Nadya replied. She extended her arms apart. ”Something about yay big.”
The man shook his head and reached under the counter. “All this firepower. All this silver and fucking explosives.” He came back up with a narrow cylindrical container. “What the hell good is this gonna do?”
“What is it?” Knight asked.
Nadya took the container from the man. “You’d be amazed how handy this old thing is.” She unscrewed the top and pulled it off, taking hold of the hilt and pulling the katana free, holding it up to examine it.
Knight laughed. “A fucking sword? I’m with old man baker over there. The fuck good’s that gonna be?”
“Do you know how many werewolves I’ve killed with this thing?” Nadya asked.
Knight stared blankly at her. “No.”
“Me either,” Nadya said. “But it was a fuck of a lot.” She pulled the sheath for the sword out of the container and opened up her belt, pulling it free enough for her to slip the loop of the sheath into it before fastening it back up and sliding the sword into it. She turned back to Knight. “Sure you don’t want something more than that six-shooter piece of shit?”
Looking at the heavily armed blonde girl for a minute, Knight sighed. “Well… maybe if you’ve gotta extra machine gun handy…”
Turning back to the shop keeper, Nadya gave him an expectant look. Sighing, the man reached under the counter again and came up with an AK-47, handing it over to Knight. “You Russians sure do love these things, don’t you?”
“If you’re gonna bitch about it, you can hand it back, you fucking racist,” the baker shot back.
Knight lifted his hands in surrender. “Hey, man, I ain’t knockin’ em. Just making an observation.” He checked the weapon over. “Got any extra clips for this one?” The baker didn’t look very pleased but he still handed three more clips over to Knight. “Thanks, comrade,” he said, slipping them into his jacket pocket.
Nadya zipped up the duffle bags again and handed one over to Knight, shouldering the second one herself. “Thanks,” she told the baker, then headed for the exit.
“Time to do some major damage to some angry assholes?” Knight asked, stifling a wet cough.
“Not just yet…” she said, starting up the car and hitting the gas.
