Roy looked up from the keyboard. He had been at this for hours and needed a break. If he were close to home he'd just fuck Elaine and feel better, but he was out in the desert and she was back at his house. He stretched, put on his sunglasses and walked outside.
Hunter was firing an old-fashioned Winchester Model 94 repeater at a jackrabbit a hundred yards away. Roy felt a little satisfied that he kept missing; even his fighting machine of a friend had some weaknesses. Hunter fired one last shot and watched the jackrabbit escape into the cactus.
"That's why I like an M-16. Hell, even an old M1 could have got it," Hunter said, then he checked the chamber to make sure it was empty and set the rifle down beside the trailer. He turned to Roy, "how goes it?"
Roy shrugged and grabbed a beer from a cooler in the shade. "I'm in. I've got taps on all their systems. Anything they do by computer we can read. Some pretty tricky security, but that stuff Greg got me from the NSA finally wormed through it," he drained half of the Coors and let out a loud belch. "Give it 24 hours to gather data and begin sifting through it and we can find out if they are on the level and if they have any surprises for us."
Hunter opened his own beer. "That's what I like about the younger generation, everything has to be digital. No matter how good your crypto is, someone is better. Back in the old days guys kept it all in their heads, or the dumb ones would write it down, but you still had to be there to read it. Now you can read their e-mail and messages from here as soon as they get them." He took a long drink. "What does your gut say?" Hunter asked seriously.
It was a gut feeling that had saved them at Arsenic Wells. Something just told Roy that the buyers were not to be trusted. Everything else had looked good, the right people said the right things about them, all the digital surveillance had been good. All the i's were dotted and the t's crossed, but something just struck Roy as wrong. He could not say what, but there was something. He had rigged up a circle of booby traps, everything from sirens to claymores, around the meeting site and when the buyers pulled guns Roy was on it instantly. Hunter said that he had saved them a half million dollars and, oh by the way, their lives. Since then Roy had gone from being the tech geek to an equal partner.
"I don't like it," Roy said. "The deal is a good one, good enough to keep us on the hook, but not so good that we'd get suspicious. I know that somewhere behind all of this is Mark, I just can't find the proof and that worries me."
"Keep at it, kid," Hunter clapped Roy's shoulder. "No matter what, we're taking precautions."
Roy shrugged and picked up the rifle. Hunter handed him box of ammo and Roy loaded the Winchester. About a hundred and twenty yards away was an old 55 gallon drum that had been shot to hell over the past decade. Roy drew a bead on that and quickly fired off the eight shots in the rifle. He was rewarded by eight satisfying clanks as he hit home with each shot.
"Not bad, easier than pushing a rock, isn't yet," Hunter said with a chuckle.
"Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do," Roy frowned at the memory of the truck going over the edge. "Besides, it's hard to explain bullet holes in corpses."
"True enough," Hunter agreed. He grew serious, "you've already had to kill two men to keep your new slave. Is she really worth it?"
Roy started reloading the rifle. "Yes. Yes she is. Elaine is amazing. She's beautiful and a perfectly natural slave. The more I use her and make her submit the more she wants. Hell, I would have killed those two cowboys for her ass alone."
"You know she is going to present problems? Word is around that Sam really wants her and Sam is not to be denied easily," Hunter said.
"I know," Roy said simply. He saw the jackrabbit Hunter had missed. He carefully aimed and fired. The shot hit true and the rabbit flew back, dead.
"Just had to mention it," Hunter said. "By the way, nice shot. You want to eat that?"
"Nah. Coyotes and vultures need to eat, too." Roy fired off the remaining shots at some pieces of random trash that surrounded their trailer. They picked this spot because it was in the middle of nowhere, but there was a satellite dish and microwave relay station that they could easily access. "Why don't you give her a try?" Roy asked Hunter.
"The rifle?" Hunter asked.
"No, Hunter. Elaine. I'll be here for another day or two, then off to scout the route. Anna is off and my little slave is probably getting lonely," Roy put the gun back in the rack.
