Chapter Seven

For having been fired from one job, getting hired as a bicycle courier without being in shape for the job, nearly having his bike stolen, becoming associated with a string of people whose hobby seemed to be “being mysterious”, getting kidnapped and being given huge amounts of cash, all within two weeks, Alex was feeling pretty good.

In fact, he realized as he rolled up to the Bump and Grind to wait for a call from one of his dispatchers, he felt better than he had in ages.  That morning he’d woken up excited to find out what was waiting for him later on.

He parked his bicycle and went inside to find Marlboro.  What he found was a coffee shop full of people looking at each other uncomfortably and occasionally giving in to nervous laughter.

Marlboro was at a nearby table, doing his best to seem preoccupied with his fingernails.

“Hey Marlboro, what’s going on?” Alex said as he sat down across from him.

At that moment, there was a huge crash from the back of the coffee shop.  Then another.

“God damn it, I just want to be left alone to run my coffee shop!  Why do these fuckers keep turning up everywhere I go?” someone in back shouted.  Alex figured that was probably the owner of the shop.

“Is she OK?” Alex asked Marlboro.

Marlboro shrugged.  He said, “As far as I can tell, she is.  She’d been in here taking orders and being her usual level of crazy, and then all of a sudden she went in back and started throwing shit around.”

“Wow.  What set her off?” Alex said.

“I don’t know.  I had been minding my own business.  She’ll settle down in a minute,” Marlboro said.

There was another crash, and the sound of something metal bouncing across the floor.

“So this happens regularly?” Alex said.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it happens regularly.  It’s happened a couple times before though,” Marlboro said. “She’ll lose steam in a minute and get back to normal.”

Almost on queue, there was another crash, but this one seemed half-hearted in comparison to the others.  It sounded more like she’d been holding something and let it drop, as compared to sweeping it off a shelf or throwing it across the room.

“And now I have to clean all this shit up.  That’s just great.  I’m glad I got out of bed today.  It was totally worth it,” the voice in the back room said.

There was some more nervous laughter in the coffee shop, and everyone went back to acting like they hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary had just happened.

“Any idea who the fuckers she was shouting about are?” Alex said to Marlboro.

“Well, I think she’s mad at the gods.  At least, that’s what I’ve gathered.  I think I told you that already.  She seems to think they’ve singled her out and are messing with her,” Marlboro said.

“Any gods in particular?” Alex said.

“Well, not that I can figure.  She seems to have a real problem with the Greeks, but I don’t think she’s limiting herself to that pantheon,” Marlboro said.  “She’s said some rather unkind things about Thor, too.  And apparently there’s a ‘skinny biker bitch’ on her list as well.  And some guy named Al.”

“So she’s pretty crazy then,” Alex said.

“Well, that, or the gods really are messing with her.  I’d put my money on crazy though.”

“You’ve gathered all this from her freak outs?” Alex said.

“Nah, she just seems to like talking to me, “ Marlboro said.  “I must be a good listener, or something.”

Alex’s phone rang then.

“Hey, you got the first call today.  Good on ya, man,” Marlboro said.

“Thanks.  Catch you later,” Alex said as he stood up and walked outside to answer the call.  There was some more commotion from the back of the coffee shop, but it sounded more like picking things up than throwing them around.

Alex was a little surprised that the address for his first call was Mr. Darcy’s.  He wondered if that was a good thing or not.

Maybe it’s just to give me the other half of the money, Alex thought.  He hoped that he hadn’t somehow screwed things up already.  He wasn’t sure if he could really be blamed for getting kidnapped, but then, the people he’d made the delivery to hadn’t seemed particularly thrilled, or concerned about him, after they’d learned what had happened.

“Good morning Mr. Minor,” Megan said as he walked into the office.  She smiled at him.  “Mr. Darcy will see you in just a minute.”

“Good morning Megan,” Alex said.  “Thanks.”

He thought for a moment, and then said, “You know, you can call me Alex.  I don’t mind.”

“Thank you,” Megan said.  “I prefer to continue addressing you as Mr. Minor, however.”

“Oh.  OK,” Alex said.  He wasn’t sure how to take that, or what it might mean in terms of his continuing employment.  It didn’t seem particularly friendly, though.  Oh well, that was her problem, not his.

Mr. Darcy’s door opened then, and Mr. Darcy himself appeared in the doorway.  He appeared happy to see Alex.

“Mister Minor!” Mr. Darcy said. “Come in, come in.”

Alex followed him into his office.  Mr. Darcy shut the door behind them, and gestured towards the chairs across from his desk.

“Have a seat,” he said, and sat in his own chair behind the desk.  “Excellent job yesterday.  I hope they didn’t rough you up too much.  How are you feeling today?”

Alex thought for a minute about the best way to answer.  On the one hand, everyone he’d encountered that was associated with Mr. Darcy had treated him very professionally, bordering on formally.  At his previous jobs, he’d have assumed the correct answer to that was “Fine, thank you.”

However, this was a new situation altogether, and dramatically different from any jobs he’d had in the past.  He’d been paid an incredible amount of money to deliver an envelope, from a mysterious person at a mysterious organization to another mysterious person in a business that was clearly some sort of front.  If he got fired right now, he’d still have more money in the bank than he’d ever had, and he still had a job as a courier to fall back on if he had to.

What’s more, he assumed that Mr. Darcy wasn’t a big fan of bullshit.  Alex figured Mr. Darcy was more likely to respect Alex for keeping quiet altogether rather than for giving a polite answer that was less than the whole truth.

So, Alex said, “I’m fucking great!  I haven’t felt this good in ages.”

Mr. Darcy smiled broadly.

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” he said. “I was somewhat worried your little adventure yesterday might have scared you off.”

Mr. Darcy opened one of the drawers in his desk, and removed an envelope.  He handed it to Alex.

“This is the rest of your payment for your delivery yesterday,” he said.

“Thanks,” Alex said.  He tucked the envelope into his bag.

“Well, Mr. Minor, are you ready for another assignment?” Mr. Darcy said.

“Yeah, definitely, what have you got?” Alex said, with a little more obvious enthusiasm than he’d intended to show.  Oh well.

“Good,” Mr. Darcy said.  “I have something a little different than your last assignment for you this time.  Rather than delivering something, you’ll be recovering some property in order to return it to its rightful owner.”

“Recovering?  Do you mean like repossession?  You want me to steal a car back?”

Mr. Darcy smiled slightly, and said, “No, nothing as mundane as a car.  And steal might be strong language.  I don’t want you to steal anything, I just want you to use whatever means you see fit to take a particular item back.”

It was Alex’s turn to smile.  “OK, whatever language you want to use, I get the idea.  What is it that you want me to recover?  And where is it?”

Mr. Darcy produced a manila folder from another drawer in his desk, and handed it to Alex. 

“You’ll be recovering an artifact of significant historical importance, as well as sentimental value to its owner.  It was taken quite some time ago, and came to light by a mere coincidence.  All the same, now that its location has come to light, we need to act to recover it before it’s moved again,” he said.

Mr. Darcy continued, “The artifact itself is the head of a spear.  Its exact age is something of a secret, but suffice it to say, it is very, very old and you should take the very greatest care with it. All of the relevant information that you need is here in this folder.  Images of the artifact, information about where it was last seen, and the challenges you’re likely to face in recovering it.”

Alex said, mainly to himself, “I never thought I’d be involved with recovering antiquities.” 

To Mr. Darcy he said, “Is this assignment dangerous?”

“Inherently so,” Mr. Darcy said.  “You will need to keep your wits about you, Mr. Minor.  The person currently in possession of this artifact would very much like to stay in possession of it, and won’t be happy to see it go.”

“So they won’t be as friendly as the folks I dealt with yesterday, then?” Alex said.

“If they catch you, I should think they’ll be significantly less happy to see you, and much less friendly than the people who made your acquaintance yesterday,” Mr. Darcy said.

“Is this legal?” Alex said.

“Well, taking back your property is certainly legal.  Of course, some of the things you might have to do in order to get to that point might not be, strictly speaking, legal.  But if you can find a way to recover the artifact without trespassing, or breaking and entering, or speeding for that matter, well, I’d think it’s perfectly legal,” Mr. Darcy said.

“This sounds extremely risky to me, then.  I’m not eager to go to jail for stealing a souvenir for someone else. How much will I be getting paid for recovering this artifact?” Alex said. 

“Recovering, Mr. Minor, recovering.  Your fee is fifty thousand dollars, and you’ll be reimbursed for any expenses you may incur.  I do have to ask that you please keep your receipts, though,” Mr. Darcy said. “Will that be sufficient?”

Alex couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.  It took him a moment to remember how to speak.  Fifty thousand dollars? 

“Who on Earth is the client that’s willing to pay that much, plus whatever you’re taking on top of it?” Alex said.

“Someone who very much wants his spearhead back,” Mr. Darcy said.  “Do you accept the assignment?”

It took Alex all of two seconds to reply.

“Hell yes!” Alex said.