Queen of the Cowboys

The Mayor of Chicago

Kristine had years of practice keeping her poker face on in stressful situations. A raid could always go sideways, but it was less likely to do so if you looked like you were in charge. And holding the gun didn't hurt, either. So, at Mayor Archambeau's smooth voice and calm countenance, she managed to hide her surprise, the smallest tug of her ears being her only tell. She lazily raised her gun, desperately wanting to put the four remaining bullets in his smug face but hesitating at the allure of his words. What could they possibly have to discuss?

"Big claim for someone at the business end of a revolver," Kristine said. There were only two ways this could go: either Kristine would walk out of there with the mayor's blood added to the dozens of other men dead at her hands, or she wouldn't walk out of there at all.

"Ah, that is true. And yet, I do not think you will shoot me. I am sure you are wondering what we could possibly have to discuss, no?"

Again, an effort to remain stoic at the way this man threw her off balance. Again, a tug of the ears. People were typically more predictable than he was acting now. 

Not wasting another moment, Kristine yanked out the chair in front of Archambeau's desk, spinning it around before planting herself in the seat, gun still swinging lightly in her grip.

"All right. Since you're so convinced we need to talk, maybe you'd like to answer some questions first."

Archambeau spread his hands wide, an open invitation. "By all means, go right ahead."

"How did you know we were coming? You look pretty cozy up here in your bunker." Kristine and the inner circle had spent months planning this takeover. If there was something they overlooked, she needed to understand that now.

"I did not know for certain until this morning, but I had my suspicions. It is not often a sitting Representative reaches out to a city mayor, especially not about national guard deployments. That is typically handled at the state level, but in the name of maintaining good relations, I sent them and prepared myself and my officers for the worst. And here you are." He smiled, nodding his head toward Kristine.

"Then, why're you up here unguarded?"

"Well, my dear—"

"Cut the 'my dear' crap," Kristine interrupted, "or I will shoot you where you sit."

Archambeau held his hands up in surrender. "Apologies. I am sure you much prefer 'your majesty,' non?" At Kristine's silence, he continued. "Well, your majesty, to answer your question I sent them away. It would have been more difficult to have a private conversation with you otherwise."

"There are better ways to have a conversation with me than barricading yourself alone in the middle of a war zone. Getting here really wore my patience thin, so you'd better get to the point soon." She cocked her pistol, the faint tink of the hammer being pulled back emphasizing her threat.

"I have a proposition for you. One that I think you will be interested in given your...reputation." He paused, the silence between them stretching until Kristine broke it.

"I ain't going to tell you twice."

"Based on your, in all honesty, hostile takeover of many emerging western cities, towns, and supply lines, would you agree it is fair to say you hold a certain disdain for the United States?" Archambeau finally gave his full attention to Kristine, swinging his legs off the windowsill and righting himself at his desk.

"You can say whatever you'd like. The government has a lot of shortcomings. I come in where they dropped off. What happens next is the natural progression of disgruntled and disillusioned folks."