In the Belly of the Beast

26

They worked as a well-lubed team, keeping their egos in check and doubling the brainpower on some of the city's toughest cases. Their careers skyrocketed as they racked up collar after collar.

They worked together for over a year and a half before they began seeing each other off-duty. They'd kept the affair discreet, and as far as Abby knew, no one had uncovered the fact that they were more than partners.

Never mix business with pleasure.

It was a maxim that Abby had followed her whole career. An unbroken rule for over ten years. A decade of resolve discarded in less than sixty seconds. How easily it had been to turn her back on her principles and fall into his embrace. She had given him her love. She owed him her life.

"Anything?" Abby asked, coming out of a deep stupor from sleep.

"As quiet as an undertakers' convention," Tray answered.

***

They had been on stakeout for fourteen hours. Abby had gone without sleep for thirty-six straight. She was literally nodding off into her Styrofoam coffee cup.

"Catch a few z's," Tray said. "Nothing's gonna happen until dark. I'll keep watch. You're no good to me in the shape you're in now, Fontaine. I'll elbow you in the ribs if anything goes down, I promise."

"Just not too hard, 'kay. I need the ribs whole and intact."

"Right. With a light coating of smoky barbecue sauce. Gotcha. Now, get some sleep."

Ordinarily, Abby would have scoffed at the idea of sleeping on the job, but her five hundred pound eyelids told her that Tray was right. She closed her eyes and immediately fell asleep, dead to the world.

She had no idea how long she'd been out. While trying to shake the fog of sleep from her brain, Tray jokingly said, "Fontaine, you snore like a chainsaw."

She pushed the night-glo button on her watch. She'd been out for several hours.

Stretching the kinks out of her stiff body, she replied, "I do not snore. Purr, maybe. But snore, definitely not."

"Well, you've got the purr of a wildebeest or maybe a wild boar, then."

She felt her face flush and was glad for the darkness.

"Hey," Tray whispered, "what have we here. Looks like we might see some action, after all."

A dark sedan drove slowly up to the warehouse and stopped. Beneath the dimness of the single light above the door, Traynor and Abby watched as the driver got out of the car and looked around. Satisfied, he lit a cigarette. The orange tip glowed as he pulled the nicotine into his lungs. With a flick of the wrist, he sent the butt flying, sparks bouncing against the pavement in a fountain of sparks.

"We shoulda' thought about replacing that bulb with a higher watt," Tray remarked. "The lighting sucks."

"Yeah, I can't make out much either. Can't see a face. Looks like a man. Broad-shouldered. He's going in."

"That was fast," Abby said, remarking on the quickness of the entry.

"Either got a key or is damn good with locks."

"Or maybe," Abby thought, "the door was already open."

A few minutes later, another car slowed to a stop in front of the building.

"Well, my snitch came through after all. Looks like we're gonna have us a little party," Tray said.

Another figure got out of the second car and entered the building.

"Shall we wait and see if anyone else joins the group?" Abby asked.

"If my source is right, there will be just these two. J. Vincente-Velramos and whomever he's meeting."

"Double V? Are you sure about this, Tray? That man never goes solo. You know his motto, safety in numbers. Always travels with his bodyguards. I'll bet he won't take a leak without his goons taking the first piss to make sure there are no fluid-activated bombs in the urinal. He's made more enemies than a bedbug in a brothel.

"The man's a lunatic, Traynor. Totally paranoid. He never travels alone. Where's his entourage?"

"Word is he'll be traveling solo tonight. According to the whisper," Traynor explained, "Double V has a personal score to settle."

"This is one mean hombre, Tray. Shouldn't we get some backup in here? I mean, for Double V and his friend, whoever he is. Regular business with this dude is bad enough, but if this is some kind of personal vendetta, we're talking major trouble here."

"He's crazy, alright, and a nasty bastard Fontaine, but we have to go it alone.

"He's smart, too damn smart. He's got his fingers in nearly every bad deal going on in this city, and he's just wily enough to bury his dirt deep enough so that we haven't been able to tie him into anything that would send him away to the big house to serve hard time.

"Yet.

"He also has enough ears stationed in strategic places, that if I made this a big operation, he'd catch wind and never show."

"You mean he's got a mole in the department?"

"There or higher up. I haven't been able to crack that puzzle yet either. But he's always managed to be several steps ahead of any operation that's tried to nab him before.

"So, tonight's little foray will be our secret. Just you and me, Fontaine. We get Double V for trespassing on private property or any charges and make them stick, I'll be a happy camper."

"He'd be out before we finished the paper work," Abby said dully.

"I know. That's not the point. It's the principle, Abby. And who knows, if we can show that he's vulnerable in one area, maybe his little house of cards will start to tumble, and we can get something to stick on that slimy Teflon skin of his. It's worth a try."

"The eternal optimist."

"Yeah, it's what you love about me, ain't it? My bright and sunny pie-in-the-sky outlook."

Before Abby respond, shots exploded inside the structure. They bolted from the car and headed toward the building.