The Ginger of Galway

The Duplicitous Dare (part 2)

"No blasphemy," Teagan scolded. "And trust me, you couldn't keep up."

Dare laughed and dropped another Yakuza. "I am beginning to appreciate you, Miss O'Daire. The accounts I heard are surely the fiction of men put to shame by the weaker sex."

If the praise was a clever ruse to disarm Teagan's suspicions, it worked. She found herself grinning, and replied, "You must have quite a collection of similar stories, Agent Dare."

"I never stick around to find out how they end," she said with a light-hearted tone. "Presumably with torture and death. Neither the Tong nor the Yakuza are very forgiving."

"Good thing we've earned both their ire," Teagan said as she took aim.

A Yakuza rose to spray the truck with his tommy gun, but fell with a bloody hole in his forehead. Teagan rotated the Deringer barrels and scanned for another target.

"I've got an idea," Grant said.

"Oh swait Jaysis," Teagan muttered, her Irish coming out under stress.

"Hey," Grant objected. "No blasphemy, right?"

"Wasn't blasphemy, ye dunce. 'Twas a prayer for protection," she said. "From stupidity."

Grant huffed but made no objection. "You two are going to cover me," he explained, "and I'll grab a couple of tommy guns off the dead Yakuza."

"Ye trust this one that well, Grant? Ye'll put her sights at yer backside?"

Dare stiffened. "We have an agreement. I am honor-bound."

"You an' the Tong had an agreement," Teagan said. "Same with the Yakuza. Sure an' both of those went arseways, yea? Now ye expect we'll be trustin' in your great sense of honor?"

Dare glanced at the two-shot pistol remaining in Teagan's hand. "I do not see that you have any choice."

Teagan sniffed with as much derision as she could muster, then drew her last Deringer. "I got four shots, not two."

Dare rolled her eyes and took aim at the Tong.

Teagan stuck out her tongue when Dare turned away. It wasn't so much Dare being right that irritated her. And Grant's willingness to charge heedless into danger didn't bother Teagan at all. Quite the opposite, in fact—although his last few expressions of bravado had been ill-conceived and poorly timed.

Maybe her source of frustration lay elsewhere. The intensity on his face when his eyes met Dare's... the eagerness with which he formed an alliance with her... the obvious interest when he regarded this vivacious—and deceitful!—woman.

Grant dashed around the truck, ducking and dodging. Gunfire erupted from both ends of the alley, and Teagan snapped out of her thoughts.

She shot a Yakuza struggling with a jammed weapon, then took out a wounded man aiming at Grant.

Behind her, smoking revolvers in each hand belching fire, Dare fought back the Tong. She fired a couple shots, then spun low to the ground and popped up in a new position, keeping the distant Tong guessing.

Teagan put down another Yakuza, then dipped behind the truck. "I'm empty."

Dare crouched but kept her eyes and guns trained on the Tong. "My assessment proves accurate," she said. "You should have brought something more powerful."

Grant slipped around the front of the truck and tossed Teagan a tommy gun. "This should suffice."

Teagan hefted the weapon and aimed toward the Tong.

"Now, that fires over a dozen rounds a second, Teag," Grant said. "You're gonna want to—"

Rat-a-tat-a-tat!

The spray-and-pray method did little to incapacitate the Tong gunmen. But fear of that rapid fire drumbeat drove them to hiding each time Teagan squeezed off a burst.

Grant moved to get a better angle and strafed the Tong position. "Now's our chance, Dare," he shouted. "The Yakuza are down and we've got the Tong at bay. Tell me where to find the classified files."

Dare checked the alley behind the truck. "It's with the satchel of safe money, stashed in the cabin of Fortune's Favor on pier six. Shall we withdraw?"

They dashed down the alley, Teagan and Grant taking turns spraying bullets to deter pursuers. Then they heard the sirens of police paddy-wagons approaching.

"Ditch the weapons," Grant said as he tossed his tommy gun in the back of a parked car. "We need to split up."

Dare scanned the streets, a look of trepidation forming on her all-too-perfect face.

Grant put a hand on Dare's shoulder. "Take that alley down two streets then turn right, heading west. You'll avoid main roads the police will use. Teag and I blend in a little easier. We'll head up another block and meet you at the pier."

Dare nodded. Then she took Grant's face in her hands and kissed him full on the mouth.

Teagan felt her fists clench, and the rage within flared when Dare gave her another triumphant look.

The woman took off in the direction Grant indicated.

"Come on, Teag," Grant said, "let's get to the boat." His long-legged stride covered ground swiftly, and Teagan had to nearly jog to keep up.

"Aren't you worried she might beat us there?" Teagan asked, breathless.

"Not really," Grant said. "My directions lead to a dead end next to the police station. I know better than to trust a pretty face."

Teagan stopped, her heart full of surprise and unexpected joy. And yet that last statement stung.

Grant noticed her and drew near, placing his hand on her cheek. "All the pretty faces except one, that is."

They recovered the files and money eventually. But for Teagan, the details blurred together with the sensation of floating on air all the way to the pier.