Swords of Exodus [Dead Six 02] by Larry Correia, Mike Kupari Page A

wearing too much purple eyeliner and tacky lipstick. I had helped her with her makeup—don’t laugh, I’m a professional.—It’s not that she couldn’t do it herself, it was just that when she did it, it was tasteful . “Yes?” she asked, looking not at me, but over my shoulder, studying the crowd.
    “Level with me here. What’s the story with you and the kid? This is personal for you, isn’t it?”
    Her gaze shifted so that she was looking me in the eyes. I could tell that my question had surprised her. “I . . . I owe him my life. I’ve helped him before. I helped him escape Zubara. He was very badly injured and nearly died. I was there when he woke up and remembered that the woman he loved had died.”
    Her name was Sarah and I’d watched her die. Around her neck had been an ancient key that I’d needed, and I’d risked my life to grab it. Instead of leaving Valentine to die there with her, I’d dragged him to safety. I didn’t know if Ling knew that, but now wasn’t the time for storytelling. Besides, there was more to her story than that. My gut told me Ling had feelings for the kid. There wasn’t any point in asking about that. It didn’t matter, for one thing, and she probably wouldn’t admit it, for another.
    “He’s here,” Ling said, looking at the door, eyes narrowing. Standing in the doorway was our target, one Roger Smoot.
    Smoot had a shock of red hair. His face was also red from the cold, and he had the huge capillary-strewn nose of a man who drank too much. His beady eyes surveyed the crowd, looking for fun or trouble, or maybe both. A couple of regulars shouted at him from one of the pool tables, daring him to throw down some money on a game. Smoot waved back and headed their way.
    “He’s armed.” Smoot had something bulky under his jacket. “Strong side hip. Give him a minute to settle in. Don’t make this too sudden, or he’ll get suspicious. Don’t make it too easy for him.” Ling pulled off her coat and handed it to me. She ran her fingers through her hair and adjusted her top, so she looked more . . . perky . Ling really was hot, and she apparently knew how to work what she had. “Err . . . never mind. You ready?”
    “Of course. Honestly, Mr. Lorenzo, do you think this is the first time I’ve executed a honeypot? It doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Ling flashed me a warm, sultry smile that almost fooled me. She slammed down her third shot in one gulp, then slid off the bar stool with catlike grace. She stalked toward the pool tables to the sound of Steppenwolf’s “Magic Carpet Ride”—I was really glad the classic rock guy had won that fight. Ling’s transformation was amazing, and every set of eyes in the room locked onto her.
    So much for blending in. I’m afraid Ling was a little too much for poor little Tickville. The only way we were going to pull this off was if Smoot was, in fact, as stupid as his file suggested he was. I watched as Ling threw down a twenty and joined the game of pool.

    Ling was good. Within fifteen minutes she was acting like she had had too much to drink, was bending over the pool table with a little too much enthusiasm, and was now Smoot’s best friend. Smoot seemed to be enjoying himself, and I caught him giving one of his buddies a high five behind Ling’s back. I had to admire her professionalism.
    Smoot’s file listed ten different accusations of extremely violent behavior against incarcerated women. I felt no guilt in unleashing Ling on him. After impressing Ling with his charm and mad pool skills, she returned to the bar and retrieved her coat. She was smiling, laughing, waving back at him.
    “He is revolting. We’re going to the motel,” she muttered under her breath before going back to her new special friend.
    Ling and Smoot left. A blast of winter air snaked across the bar before the door closed behind them. I waited a moment, then followed. Shen and Antoine would pick me up in front and then we’d tail Smoot