“It was not just another boring, dreadful Monday morning.” Peter began.
“I mean let’s face it – and we can all agree, I think – that morning may well be the beginning of the day the future began. Not only in the technical sense, either. It really is the future – legit science future shit. You know in those sci-fi flicks, where the cars hover or fly, and the computer interfaces, they’re all, like, holograms, and you use voice command for everything? Yeah, that’s the kind of future I’m talking about.
“So there I was, spring in my steps, thinking I might win the, uh, Nobel Prize or something next year, and I walked out of my ’86 Corolla and into my usual coffee stop. There was this new girl at the counter, and man, she is so cute. I mean, her brown eyes are so big and her face is heart-shaped or whatever, and did I tell you how much I love girls with short hair? Her hair was, like, brown and cut to her shoulder, and it’s trimmed shorter and shorter as it goes to the rear section – argh, I don’t know what the cut is called; never bothered looking it up, but yeah, simply put, she’s a ten in my book!
“So I walked into line, right, and what do you know, her eyes met mine, and we locked it for about five seconds or something and man, my heart skipped three beats. Then she blushed, and went on with the orders. So right now, as I’m waiting in line for my coffee, I have the game-changer for all of mankind’s future, and the burden of wanting to chat up this girl that I’ve been waiting to turn up for the twenty-five years I’ve lived, and it’s all squeezing up in my head, wanting all of my attention. I was like, goddammit, what do I say, what do I say, how do I open, oh man I hope I brought everything for today, what if I get kidnapped tomorrow, I mean there’s like millions of billions riding on this discovery, blah blah blah, and before I know it, it’s my turn in line.
“H-hey, uh, hi.” I just knew she can hear the tremor in my voice, man.
“Hello, good morning! What can I get, sir?” right then and there, she killed it. The Russian accent did threw me off a little, but that sunny smile and that wrinkle in the corner of her eyes? I mean, I swear, her face must be glowing or something. Then I dropped the ball, like every other time you guys tried hooking me up.
“Uh, I’m… I’m…” I panicked big time. It’s been a while. Like, a long while. “I’m gonna take away a black coffee, w-with two sugar, and…”
“Is that all?”
“Y-yeah, that’s it.”
“One coffee, black, two sugar, take-away, coming! That’d be three dollars, sir.”
“That was it. The rest of the day at the office was me and you guys finalizing this hush-hush thing and here we are, in this boring Italian place, with this boring booth cushion, the jug of cold water, and the same old view out the window.” Peter took another sip.
“Did you at least get the name on her nametag?” Joe prompted, in his thick Cockney accent. Peter let out a heavy sigh. “Bloody hell, mate. How long it’s been since your last girl? Three years? That’s thirty-six months. Thirty. Six. Months!”
“Whatever, man. Stop being so glum. You can just try again tomorrow, I mean, she does work there, right?” Park tried to cheer Peter, being the optimist that he is.
“He’s right, you know. Plus, look at it this way – with that much stuttering, you might have done just enough to leave an impression on her. Hell, it might work as a – whatchamacallit – a conversation starter for, you know, the next time you try. Hell, she might even think shy guys are turn-ons, eh?” the group laughed at Lisa’s jest, knowing there is truth in it.
“Yeah, well, thanks guys. Always trying to cheer me up, huh?”
“Well, we are celebrating, so if you lads are done picking from the menu, I think it’s high time we put in that order. Like Pete said, tonight’s on him, so don’t hold back, fellas; he’s got deep pockets! Excuse me!” Joe beckoned for service with his right hand, and a waitress immediately responded.
Her steps were small but quick and eager, her figure petite and slim. The dark green blouse tucked in a mauve knee-length pencil skirt she was wearing fits her very well, and she carried it with such elegance, no one would think it’s her table-waiting uniform. “Good evening, sirs and miss, and welcome to the Jolly Giuseppi! How can I be help?” she chirps with thick Eastern Bloc accent. The group turned their attention to her, except for Peter, who was still aloof, staring out of the window and into the traffic-lit darkness, the coffee girl still in his head. Lisa eyed her up and down, and noticed her haircut, face shape, and hair color. She then scanned the waitress’ nametag, and turned to Peter and queried with a whisper, “Hey Pete, could the girl’s name be… Katja?” The group waits for his response, but he’s still distant. “Could she be working two jobs, then?” Joe wondered. He turned to Peter for response.
“Oi!” Joe smacked the back of Peter’s head, so hard his glasses fell onto the table.
“The fuck, man?!” Pete cried out, his hands fumbling for his glasses.
“Excuse me, everything alright? I can come later for order, if now is problem.” Katja asked, looking puzzled at this group of regular-looking clients that seem to be naturally eccentric, and was acting like she isn’t there.
Peter applied his glasses back on, and rolled his eyebrows at Joe, who nudged his head towards the direction the waitress was standing at, along with his eyes, trying to get Peter to look at her. Peter turned his head towards the confused girl and gasped. With eyes wide open and mouth agape, this look on a seemingly recognizable face triggered a soft chuckle in Katja’s mouth. Who else if it isn’t the timid guy who stuttered his way to a coffee this morning! she thought alone. She tried her best to hide this reaction, but failed miserably.
Lisa saw this, and bursted, “Haha, see? She remembers you, Pete! I told you!” Pete was still gnawing at the waitress. She pumped a fist to Joe, who received it with a fist bump.
“Goddammit, guys. You guys are like a bunch of frat boys, I swear!” Park turned to Katja, who had been standing by the table for over a minute without any order being taken,
“I’m sorry miss, you’ll have to excuse my pet monkeys here. They’re a bunch of subjects in a failed top-secret government experiment project. You know the deal.” His attempt at remedying the awkward situation with humor was unnecessary, but much appreciated. Katja returned a welcoming smile, which in turn made Park begin to understand what made Peter’s heart flutter away at her sight. “Give me a large pepperoni, with meatballs. Oh, and extra olives.”
The rest of the group ordered away, with the exception of Peter, who was struggling. “Uh, I’m… I’m… I’m gonna take away a black coffee, w-with double sugar-”
Joe smacked Pete again, at the same spot as he did just before. “You bloody mong! You’re not drinkin’ bloody coffee this late in the evenin’ when you’re celebratin’ a breakthrough in modern energy science, you’re not! Fuckin’ hell, what a knobhead, eh?!”
Lisa sneaked a whisper to the loyally waiting Katja, “You know what, babe, why don’t you send that order first and we’ll call you back when lover boy here gets his tongue out of the knot, okay?”
“Okay, is not problem. I will be back when ready!” Katja smiled and returned to the kitchen, with the same small but quick and eager step she came to with, leaving the table to its playful banter.
“Aww, Petey! She’s so cute, I want to pick her up and put her in my pocket! You guys would look so adorable together.” Lisa beamed with excitement for her dearest childhood friend, “You know what, if you don’t hook up with her, I will.” Joe glared at her. “What? I’m just saying.”
“Fuck’s sake, luv! I really hope you’re jokin’. I’ve been tryin’ to set him up with a girl for a good few months now. You, sure as the sun sets and rises every night and day, didn’t help at all. This one time, he really found a girl by himself, that he can absolutely love, and tried to actually chat up, and you’re takin’ it all away just like that?”
“Ay, ¡dios mio! Hey, Joe, I’m just saying, okay. That’s it. Look, it’s been years for me since I’ve last been with a girl. I mean in the world we live in, it’s hard for me, too!”
“Jesus H., you’re serious, aren’t you? Lizzie, you’ve got a man, he’s rich, he’s a hot beefcake – no homo – and as far as I remember, you’ve never complained about him. What more do you want with some girl who’s waiting tables? Make her your toy, is it?”
“Guys? Guys!” Park broke the argument, “Let’s just calm down now. Pete?”
“Huh?”
“You’re gonna talk to her or what?”
“I don’t know, man.”
“So that’s off the table.” Park turned to Joe, “Think you can get this one for him, Joe?”
“Yeah sure, but-”
“Sigh, I’ll do it.” Lisa interrupted, “I’ll do it – talk to her. For Pete, I mean.”
Joe rolled his eyebrows at Lisa, projecting a teasing doubt.
“What? Oh, you think I’m that desperate? Puh-lease. I’m not like Pete. And I’ve done this before. With a girl, yes. And for the record, I’m definitely better at picking up girls than even you, Handsome Joe. Plus, I don’t even think you’re that much of a-”
“Shut the hell up, guys. I can get this one myself.” Peter stole everyone’s attention.
“What do you mean?” Lisa shot a puzzled look.
“I’m not helpless. I just don’t like it when you guys try to hook me up with girls when I never even feel like it. I’m not like any of you. I don’t need a ‘squeeze’ just to get through every other week. I’m comfortable living alone, all by myself. What I look for is love, not simple, hedonistic pleasure.” at Peter’s mention of ‘love’, Joe muttered an ohhh God, not again, and rolled his eyes away. Lisa saw him doing it, and stepped hard on his toes.
Peter took a sip of cold water from his glass. “This time around, though, is different. I really like this girl. No one recommended her to me. No matchmaking, no wingman shit, no nothing! Just the two of us, and I’m gonna make it work.” He reached for his wallet, and put a neatly folded twenty-dollar note on the table. Joe smirked at Peter’s confidence, and added his own bet into the pot. Lisa nodded in comprehension, and added hers as well. Park took the pot and kept it in his pocket, “Here she comes with our drinks. What’s your move, Pete?”
“Tell me when she’s five feet away.”
“What, is that some kind of original play you got cooked up, Romeo?”
“Shut up, Joe.”
“Well alright then-”
“Now, Pete!”
“Well, then, my most beloved of colleagues! Allow me to gracefully depart for but a minute. I have a mighty important personal errand to attend to-” Peter immediately stood up and wormed his way across Joe’s lap, trying to get out of the booth. He turned away from the table, flailed his left arm across towards Katja’s direction, and it smacked the tray of drinks she was carrying. The glasses jumped off the tray. Katja, however, seemed to have seen it coming and prepared for it somehow. She raised the tray in a quick attempt to catch the glasses with it. Her front foot stepped to the rear, and her back arched. In an astonishing moment of extraordinary reflex, Katja managed to catch all four glasses. One of them, however, was too tall for the maneuver, and landed with a wobble.
This forced Katja to take another step back. This time, her stance was poor, and she lost her balance. She slipped on her back foot.
Peter saw it all. As if in slow motion, he was seeing a moment of clarity. He launched his front foot further ahead, slipped his left arm across Katja’s shoulder blades, and caught the tray with his right. The glasses landed, and it stayed so. The whole room, which heard Katja’s shriek in the beginning had turned their attention to the scene and watched it all go down.
“Way to go buddy!”, “You dog!”, and some whistling were among the responses of the cheering crowd. Some simply clapped, but the two men and a woman sitting in Peter’s booth were caught by surprise at his moves. They had known that Peter did have a black belt in Judo, but they had never seen him in action. That wasn’t the main reason, however. Simply good old Petey accomplishing the beginning part of ‘The Dry Cleaning’ play amazed them. They had never seen him chat up a girl all by himself, much less playing out on of the most difficult moves on one and succeeding in the beginning part.
Park saw a dark stain on Katja’s blouse collar, and whispered it to Lisa and Joe. Peter had managed to land just enough reason on Katja’s clothes to initiate the main part of the play. They watched in anticipation.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, I am okay. Thank you.” Katja let out a soft laugh out of relief.
“Well, it is my fault that this even happened in the first place.”
“Oh, is not problem. Nothing break, thank God.” Katja claimed her footing back. She suddenly felt a wet patch on her neck. Immediately, she rubbed it with her left hand. She gasped.
“Oh, man. There’s a…” Peter waved at his own shirt collar with his index finger. “On your collar. Hey you know what, let’s put the tray down first and take a look at that.”
She did just so. “Is it bad?”
“Look. I’ll pay for the dry cleaning. Let me get your number- oh wait. You know what, there’s a 24-hour dry cleaning joint on my block. You get off... midnight, right?”
Katja nods with a small frown. “Hey, look. I’m sorry. Let me drive you there after, I’ll pay for it. They’re tight with me, so they can do it snappy. It’ll be done before you can say ‘how long’!”
“I am not sure… tomorrow I go to work, 6-am. I sleep early.”
“Hey, let me make up for this. Please? I’ll drive you to the laundry and home tonight, and to work tomorrow morning. I’m a morning person, too. I’ll skip my morning run tomorrow. For you.” Peter watched intently as Katja bit her lips in thought. “Deal?”
“Okay, but you must promise!"
“Christ on a pike. He’s good.” Joe nodded in acknowledgement. “Should’ve asked her to stay at his place, but still-”
“Shut up, horndog. Not everyone’s like you.” Park stopped Joe from mouthing off too loudly.
“Of course I promise! I can ask your boss to let you off a bit early as well, so it can all be done earlier and you can go home and rest sooner after.” Pete continued.
“Hah. Is impossible.” Katja smirked, almost challengingly.
“Watch me.”
*******
Katja met Peter who parked his car at the fourth floor of the quiet parking garage sixty yards away from the Jolly Giuseppi. She smiled at the sight of him, genuinely impressed at Peter’s value of his own word. Her boss had let her of early, just like Peter said he would have her boss do. She couldn’t imagine what Peter could have said to him, but it couldn’t have been anything short of a bribe.
“11-pm; you serious!”
“Yeah, well. I’m awesome like that. Here, let me get it for you.” Peter opened the front passenger door for her, which prompted a curious smile on Katja’s face.
“Wow, is not date?”
“It can be, if that’s what’s required of me to make up for it.”
“Oh please, is just liquor stain.” Katja got into her seat, and Peter took his. He started the car.
“Well, I never make light of my debts and promises.” Peter shrugged in a bragging manner. “Wait, aren’t you gonna change out of the blouse first?”
“Oh, I do not bring extra clothes. I usually take bus home in uniform.”
“So how’s this gonna work?”
“Is okay. I have bra.” Peter rolled his eyebrows. Katja chuckled. “Ha ha, is joke! Do you have shirt inside your…” She points at Peter’s chest.
“Oh, an undershirt! Never needed them, so no.”
“But, you say you keep promise, so give shirt. You have trousers, for minimum.”
“But it’s November!”
“Not my promise. Your promise.”
Peter let out a heavy sigh, and switched the gear lever to reverse. He swiveled his head to face the rear windshield and backed his maroon ’86 Corolla out. Halfway through, a black van stopped behind his car. “Oh, come on!”
The sound of screeching tires alerted Katja. “Why? What is happen?” She joined Peter in looking through the rear windshield. The van’s panel door – which was facing the car – slid open, and a man with neatly cropped hair, dressed in a beige sweater and grey cargo pants stepped out, followed by another bald one in a black t-shirt and dark green cargo pants. What the two men were wearing weren’t what caught Katja’s attention. Something else did – they had blue surgical gloves put on, and were carrying automatic weapons – an SG552 and an AK-12, both had suppressors on. Another man stepped out with a silenced Uzi. At that moment, the sound of birds chirping came out of Katja’s phone; a new text came in.
She didn’t waste time checking it. She told Peter, who was surprised out of his mind, to keep his head down. She pulled something out of her purse, opened her door just enough to stick her hand out, and threw something out of the car. The object slid across the floor under Peter’s Corolla and towards the three men. It made some clanking noises, which drew their attention to the object rolling towards their feet.
Snappily, Katja slammed the door shut and proceeded to grab Peter’s head and cup his ears, and covered hers with her own shoulders. The man in beige, who realized what rolled onto his feet was, shouted, “Banger!” Very shortly after, a two-second trigger M84 stun grenade exploded. It emitted a bright flash of light that measured up to 8 million candelas and a very loud 180 decibels bang. All the three men saw was white, and all they heard was a jet fighter taking off right next to where they were standing.
“What the hell?!” Peter looked back, and saw three men struggling for their footing like drunkards, with blood running out of their ears. He turned back to Katja, who was pointing her hands towards the men. Katja exclaimed “Ram them!” as she fired away her H&K P7 M13 through the rear windshield. Three 9x19mm hollow point rounds flew right through the glass and into the center mass of the man in beige. Right at that moment, Peter stepped on the gas pedal, launching the car backwards and into the fumbling men. The beige-sweater man went down first, followed by the man in black. The man with the Uzi regained his footing and tried firing his weapon from the hip, but he was too late. Katja had already fired another two rounds which landed onto his chest and punched through his ribcage, drilling their way out of his back. Another one that came from her next shot ripped through his throat, and one more greeted his forehead.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Peter shrugged off the loud, disorienting bangs from Katja’s shots, and without any further hesitation, shifted into first, spun his wheels, and slammed the pedal. Hours of work put into caring for his car had finally found its moment. The racing drivetrain and sports suspensions set he had installed launched the car out of the spot almost immediately, and he maneuvered his way through the tight turns and ramped curves like a wasp late for work. Katja released the used magazine out from her pistol and refreshed it with a new one.
“Is that all you brought?” Peter came up with a witty comment while racing his car through to the lower floors.
“Thought about bringing my stubby along, but it wouldn’t fit in my purse. Plus, I like this one better. It’s… cute.” Katja looked around and saw a white SUV that was trying very hard to follow them. It lurched and rolled through the corner, like a bear slaloming around trees.
“Well, I guess size doesn’t matter. It works very well in your hands.” Peter was trying to calm himself down with small talk. “So who the hell are you, again? And where the hell did your accent go?!”
“Let’s save it for later. We’ve got more pressing matters at the moment.”
In twenty seconds, Peter’s Corolla is already at the ground floor, rocketing its way into the last corner before the ticket counter. Peter released the gas, kicked the clutch, jerked his illegally installed sequential gearbox back, and spun his wheels 90 degrees to the right. He slammed the gas again and the car slid its way through the last turn. Katja opened her door and dropped another flashbang.
“Close your ears!”
“I’m busy here!” The car punched through the plywood barricade of the ticket counter.
A loud bang was heard, followed by the squealing tires of the white SUV, before it rammed into a load-bearing beam head-on.
Katja pulled her phone out of her purse. The lock screen showed that there was one new text message from a contact labeled ‘Beefy Bear’. Peter sneaked a glance and managed to read the name.“That your man?”
“I wish.” Katja slid her thumb around the screen, and the phone unlocked. She opened the text.
Principles compromised/
Hounds are out/
2, 3, 4 secured/
Get 1 to rdv Echo ASAP
“Turn here.” She pointed out the turn for Peter to make and replied the text message with maroon ‘86 Corolla coming in’."
“How about now? Now a good time?”
“For what? Oh, that. Yeah, well,” Katja let out a heavy sigh, “technically, I never lied about who I am.”
“So you really are Katja?”
“Yes.”
“After what happened back there, your name isn’t the most important thing about your identity, though, isn’t it?”
Katja began explaining who she really was – a member of a covert private security team hired by the technology firm Peter was working for to protect the research team until the hydrogen cell project is finalized. Up until now, there had been no research that had successfully developed a viable means of storing hydrogen for the purpose of vehicle fuelling. Hydrogen had been developed as a practical energy source, and only produces water vapor as the output of it being burned as fuel. The result is a completely zero-emission fuel consumption. People who are working in energy researches are always under threat of criminal sabotage – some more than others.
“I don’t know if you recognize the gravity of the situation,” Katja elaborated further, “but those guys back there and the hardware they carry – these are serious people with serious power, and serious money on the line because of your research. They will not just… stop there. Your firm managed to keep the research in the down low for quite a long time, but I guess news of it finally got out in the wind. My guess is probably around two to three hours ago.”
“Two hours ago? And already killers are out after me? How about Joe and Park and-”
“They are killers, but they weren’t there to kill you – too valuable. Whoever hired them were probably planning to keep the four of you for themselves. Rest assured, if they want you dead, you won’t even make it past the ignition key. And your friends are safe, with mine.”
“So, what? You got sloppy?”
Katja pulled out a small box labeled ZAPP Spark Plug. “Nope. I replaced your spark plugs. They took yours out and threw it away while you guys were busy having dinner – probably planned to have you stalled trying to start your car and buy some time to grab you.”
The conversation was punctuated by a brief silence. Peter stared a long way out. Katja pointed out another turn and saw him spacing out.
“You okay?” She asked. Peter snapped out of it and made the turn.
“Nah, I’m good. I was just betting against myself whether or not you’re wearing a wig.”
Katja raised her left eyebrows and pulled her head to the right, showing her confusion.
“I’m serious. The first third of me was thinking that you’re wearing a wig, and you’re really a blonde, but the second third was like, nah, she’s just ashamed of her flaming red ginger hair and just dyed it brown. The last third was just hoping that you’re naturally a brunette, ‘cuz you’re really hot in brown hair.”
“You can say all that with a straight face? You’re in the wrong profession.” Katja laughed. She took a long breath and continued, “You drive real good though, you know? You helped save us both back there. You took part, and that’s very rare in an HVT.” She saw Pete’s puzzled look, and continued. “HVT – high-value target.”
“So the contract is until… the project is complete, right? So that’s what? Wednesday?” He answered Katja’s question with one of his own.
“Yeah. What about it?”
“So then we’d be free from any sort of working relationship!” Peter turned to Katja and flashed an intent smile. “When this is over, I’ll just make up for the dry cleaning with, I don’t know, a nice lunch or dinner tomorrow? I mean, now that I know who you are, you don’t need your cover anymore, huh?”
“Yeah, that’d be right. Just lunch, though?”
“I’m not finished yet. After that, we’ll go out Thursday. I think I’m going to let this one go,” Pete tapped his steering wheel, “and buy my Uncle George’s second-gen Camaro. You’ll love it – it’s such a beast to drive. We’ll take a road trip to the countryside. Fresh air, twisty roads, and a fast, classic muscle – it can never go wrong. Oh, and there’ll be a real badass cutie in the passenger seat, too.”
“Aren’t you gonna miss this one, though? It felt like a real good drive. And it’s obvious that you took good care of it.”
“Nah. I love it, but it’s had its run. I trashed it a lot on the tracks and the mountain passes, so I want to give it a rest. Maybe sell it to a nice lady – you know, groceries, school runs.”
“Look at you – glowing with optimism! You know what: yeah, I can do Thursday. Country roads seem nice, too! Where to, though?”
“How about Yellowstone? Bring a change of clothes, hiking shoes, make-up, whatever girls bring to a trip in the woods. I’ll sort the stove and food out. Oh, and bring your stubby and load it with slugs. There are grizzlies there.”
The two persons shared a hearty laughter. Peter turned on the stereo.
“You’re on K-DST, the rock station that stays honest and true. Freezing November nights like this reminds me of my old flame. She kept me warm through the cold and lit up the darkest of my nights, like a hearth in a cabin deep in the woods. Ran away with my heart and left me with memories of her temperate skin. To that, I’m going to play the next song: here’s Johnny Cash with the Ring of Fire.”
