Giddyup for STAR

It was time to put a team together. There was no way I was going up against Wallace alone. I needed an organization of professionals, each bringing a unique mix of talents to the mix, creating a team of unparalleled strength and talent.

Unfortunately, all I could call on were the McCaughans and the Owl. Dottie and Carl McCaughan were a husband and wife team. Breaking and entering and safecracking were their areas of expertise. Unfortunately, you had to keep them separated during a job, otherwise they could start arguing, or having passionate sex, or both, right in the middle of the job. It made for a twitchy working relationship at the best of times, but they worked for the right price, and when not distracted, were very good at their jobs. Nobody knows much about the Owl, except that if you needed access to computer systems, she (I always thought she was a she) was the one to talk to. She would also knit you a very nice sweater if you asked and supplied the yarn.

This was my team. The four of us were going up against the nastiest, most ruthless piece of human garbage since the guy who canceled Firefly after only 9 episodes. Somehow, it didn’t seem like it would be enough, but it would have to do. I left word for the Owl, to find out what baby brother had been into to catch Wallace’s attention. He was a busy man after all,with careers to trash and lives to ruin. What made him single out this one kid among the thousands who flock to the city every year? What was baby brother, AKA Michael the Mouth up to?

I called the McCaughans to let them know that a job was coming their way, involving breaking into a high security home, plus assorted mayhem. From the sounds on the other end of the phone, they were excited about the job, or were finishing making up after a fight.

Probably both.

I spent the night alone in my office, thinking about Honey, taping up my broken ribs, finishing off the bottle of whiskey, and not sleeping.I not slept so hard that my snoring woke me up the next morning. Well that, and the feeling of the floor rushing up to hit me in the face as I fell out of the chair.

I made a pot of black coffee for show, and pulled another bottle of whiskey out for a little of the hairy dog.

The darn thing bit me.

This entry was posted on Saturday, July 28th, 2007 at 6:00 pm and is filed under Miscellaneous. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.