Anything you recognize, I don’t own. Trenton belongs to New Jersey. Ranger, Steph and everyone else belong to Janet Evanovich. I’m only borrowing them for my own amusement and promise to return then unharmed. I’m not making any money from this, so don’t sue me.
"In conflict, straightforward actions generally lead to engagement, surprising actions generally lead to victory" ~ Sun Tzu, The Art of War
A Late-Night Conversation
(11/12/05)
A splash of amber liquid into a crystal glass was the only sound in the dark-paneled study as the man behind the cherry wood desk poured himself a drink. The man pondered the map spread before him, analyzing every possible advance, contemplating every potential retaliation.
This was going to be an interesting battle, he thought. He’d done the urban warfare; the fight for territory, but he’d never before fought over rights to a woman. He smiled as it occurred to him that this could have been something right out of medieval times. A beautiful damsel in distress, a fearless black knight as her champion against himself, Lord of all he surveyed. He took a long swallow of bourbon, letting the liquid warm him as he thought the situation through. The damsel had no defensive skills of her own. Though she tried to be tough, in actuality she was no threat. However, the knight was an experienced warrior, one who’d had no discernable weakness – up until now. Also, he had a formidable army of his own. Normally someone to be rightfully feared, the warrior’s obvious feelings for the damsel would be his downfall this time. Though he felt it would be an easy victory, he planned to savor the battle as long as he could.
As he sat plotting strategy, the double doors to his study crashed open behind the booted foot of none other than the black knight himself.
He chuckled as his opponent stormed into the room. Let the games begin. “Well, well. The Great Ranger Manoso,” he said with a smile as he rocked back in his chair and laced his fingers in front of him. “To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Ranger stopped a few feet back from the desk, his feet planted firmly and his muscular arms crossed in front of him. “You know why I’m here.”
He gave Ranger an amused smile. “Let me guess, you’re angry that I torched your truck?” When Ranger did not so much as twitch a muscle, he went on. “No? You want to challenge me to a game of chess?” Ranger’s eyes narrowed slightly and a muscle in his jaw ticked. He loved this part of the game; baiting his opponent. His smile turned to a predatory grin as he said, “Well, that only leaves one other reason: the beautiful Ms. Stephanie Plum.”
The look in Ranger’s eyes got even colder at the mention of her name. “Cut the shit, Abruzzi. I’m not here to play games.” Ranger strode over, and planted his hands in the middle of the map spread across the desk. He leaned in menacingly and said, “This ends now. You forget she ever existed and I’ll let you live, don’t and they’ll write books about what I’ll do to you.”
Abruzzi smiled condescendingly, “Well, you’ve got guts, and I like that about you. But, the threats, they don’t really do anything for me. Because, really, idle threats are just so…idle.” He gestured for Ranger to sit down, “Help yourself to a drink and have a seat, Ricardo. Can I call you Ricardo?”
“No.”
Abruzzi smiled again. He was really enjoying himself. Here the dark knight sat across from him, looking at him as if he could rip the spleen from his body without breaking a sweat. Abruzzi got a little thrill from this part of the battle; he loved the verbal sparring just as much as the blood and guts – maybe more. “So, Ranger,” he paused to make sure the name met with approval, “what exactly do you think this little visit is going to accomplish?”
Ranger leaned back in the chair and very deliberately put his feet on Abuzzi’s desk. “You’re going to back off from Steph or you’re going to be dead.” He gave a little shrug. “Just thought you ought to know.”
The smile faded from his face as he glared at the dirty boots resting on his flawless cherry wood desk. “The girl stuck her nose into my business. She caused me problems. She dies.” He gave Ranger a sardonic grin, “I like simple plans, don’t you?”
Ranger returned the grin, “Actually, I do and here’s mine. Walk away, you live. Fuck with me or mine, you die.”
“Yours,” he said, as if pondering the concept. Wanting to be clear, he said, “So then, you claim the girl as yours?”
Ranger gave a terse nod. “Stephanie Plum is mine. She will always be mine.”
Abruzzi gave him a sly look, “Even if she marries the cop?” He couldn’t hide the grin as he noticed Ranger’s eyes darken slightly – the only sign that the question bothered him – otherwise he never moved a muscle.
“Even then.”
He shook his head slightly, “What a shame. I’m almost sorry I’m going to kill her. It might be interesting to watch how this little soap opera plays out.”
Ranger dropped his boots to the floor with a thud and stood up snake-quick. Abruzzi was actually surprised to find himself staring down the barrel of a nickel-plated .357 Magnum. “If you know anything about me, you know that I don’t make idle threats. It’s bad for business.”
“Does she know how much you love her?” he asked with a grin. It was stupid that someone like himself would have those as his last words, but rampant curiosity had always been one of his vices.
“No, and she never will.”
*~*~*~*~*~
Ranger set the fountain pen back in its holder and peeled off his latex gloves. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Yo. Bring the Benz around to the private entrance. Mr. Abruzzi needs to take a little drive; clear his head.” He snapped the phone closed and dropped it back to his pocket He took a final look at the man in front of him, then turned and walked out the door.
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