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“What now?” asked Erin.
“Now we head out to dinner at one of the restaurants that the bartender gave us.”
“Which one?”
“I don’t think it matters. I’m going to bet that they somehow run into us no matter where we go. They probably already know that we’re here in the hotel, so make sure that we don’t leave anything behind that might give any hints to who we are.”
“Didn’t you already do that by telling them you were a Ranger and SEAL?” asked Erin.
“Actually, I did that,” frowned Alexandra. “Did I screw up?”
“No, babe. You didn’t screw up. It made them cautious, and that’s what I wanted to see. Any other time, a cop would have wanted to talk to us, ask about our time in service, that kind of thing. They feel as though they’re brothers to us, and, in many ways, they are. These guys weren’t interested in shit with us. They just wanted us out.”
Nine and Gaspar did a bit of research on the restaurant choices and had no problem choosing the one they wanted. Virginia’s had been in the area for nearly a hundred years, serving up true southern food with a bit of low country thrown in for good measure.
But it also had a colorful past. Meetings in the forties and fifties of the KKK. Civil rights protests. Refusal to allow black customers entrance in the sixties.
In the seventies, there were six drug-related deaths, five of them women found in bathroom stalls. In the eighties, multiple shootings happened just outside the restaurant, including two dead police officers.
Since the nineties, it had been fairly quiet, except for three alleged homeless people discovered dead inside the dumpster in the alleyway.
“Another lovely place you’re taking us to,” smirked Erin, listening to her husband speak of the restaurant.
“I know, babe. I’m sorry. Look, don’t go to the ladies’ room alone. If you go, go together, and we’ll be watching. We’ve got our weapons, and so do you. Keep the stealth netting around them, but don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Well, that leaves it wide open, doesn’t it?” smirked Alexandra.
Arriving at the restaurant, the Matre’d seated them right away near the windows. It made Gaspar nervous as shit, but he only smiled, nodding at the man. As the evening progressed, they thought maybe they’d misjudged the local cops.
Salads and soup came and went. Main courses of thick juicy steaks, seafood, and other dishes were brought out until finally they waited on their whiskey bread pudding.
“This has been lovely,” smiled Erin.
“Get up,” said a male voice behind her. She turned slightly and then looked back at Nine, who gave her a small nod.
“Is there a problem?” he asked as Erin stood with Alexandra.
“The ladies need to go outside,” he said. Gaspar noticed three more men around their table, then looked to see that most of the restaurant had cleared out.
“Well, fuck. This ruins my night,” said Gaspar.
“I won’t tell you again,” said the man. Gaspar grinned at him.
“My wife isn’t leaving this restaurant without me.”
“Then she’ll leave in the same body bag,” said the man. He started to reach for his weapon, but his hand never got further than his hip. He winced, falling to the ground on his knees as the other men stared in shock.
“Now, that ain’t nice. I don’t like people not bein’ nice,” said Tailor.
“Jesus, what the fuck are you?” said one of the men.
“See, that ain’t nice either,” said Alec. “My brother and his wife were having a nice dinner, and you interrupted them.”
When one of the cops came toward them with a taser, his arm was gripped so tightly he never even felt the twist and snap. Then he took note of the fact that his arm was literally hanging, with no feeling at all, and the taser was on the floor.
“Don’t piss me off, little man,” said Rory. He looked at Nine and Gaspar, smiling. “Heard you guys were in the neighborhood and wanted to have a drink. Guess we’ll have to pick another place.”
“You’ve fucked up, assholes. We’re fucking cops!”
