In the morning, Sayan and Thandie silently ate a non-pork breakfast, difficult to do as the ladies usually loaded up on bacon or sausage breakfast sandwiches. Thandie whipped up some apple (brown sugar) oatmeal with pecans and orange juice. They all went in to work, Staci and Ikram as a double on Staci’s Harley she had rebuilt herself. They made it in, and did laps at the in-building health club, then stints with weights. They all had a competition thing going, but no one wanted to get put on the injured list. Injured meant sitting at a desk doing volumes of paperwork in the supposedly-paperless office, a fate worse than the actual injury. They showered and dressed in the “company uniform” of black pants, a black tee, gun in a shoulder holster or back rig, black boots, gun and/or knife hidden in one or both of the boots, and a light jacket to cover the gun. They took the elevator up.

Their VIP Danny was there, shaved, dressed, and none the worse for wear from yesterday’s excitement. He ran up and shook Thandie’s hand. “You are so fucking awesome,” he said. He then shook Sayan’s hand. “Heard you helped take the shooter out. Thank you.” He took in Sayan’s slightly off-kilter nose and Thandie’s lip. “What happened? You looked fine when I left?”

“Sparring,” said Bannon, coming in behind them. “Working off steam from feeling juiced.”

“Juiced?” asked Danny.

“Adrenaline rush,” said Star. “Sparring keeps you frosty. Ready.” She smiled at him. “Just doing our jobs, Sir.”

“Bullshit,” said Danny. “I want you two on me today.”

“They will be, in shifts,” said Bannon, opening the door for all of them. “Staci, Ikram, first shift. Sayan and Thandie, my office to go over your schedule.”

Everyone said, “Yes, Sir.” Danny nearly did, but he just followed Staci and Ikram into the small conference room. He was scheduled for desert four-wheeling, and was looking forward to it.

They stood at parade rest in front of Bannon’s desk. “I don’t care what you do off hours, as long as there’s no permanent injury.”

Star fought to control her face. The headboard had a gouge that hadn’t been there before. That’s probably permanent, she thought. No, semi-permanent. Can sand it down and repaint.

Bannon smiled. “Both of you acted to protect the principal. You did it on camera, by the book, and Sayan, you survived police custody. Two thousand dollars was paid into each of your accounts this morning. Now, go and serve and protect our clients.”

“Sir, yes Sir!” said both of them, simultaneously.

“Dismissed,” said Bannon. They filed out.

Bannon put them on swiper duty, changing the codes on all the employee cards, something done every other day. He also had them scan any documents not already scanned, which weren’t many. Bannon despised paper. He then had them take a child to school.

Little Daisy was a rock god’s child, and her driver was sick. The school had the children of diplomats and major players, and they had their own on-campus security. They then got to pick up Danny from off-roading, and take him skydiving. They all loved it. Their instructor was a former Marine, and he got a kick out of watching professionals jump while simultaneously protecting a target. No one shot at Danny for the rest of the day.

Bannon spoke to the Chief of Police Medwin Murata, and discovered that the hit woman had been hired by a business rival of Danny’s, as they had suspected. A company named 3D4Mi had been developing a similar process to Danny’s, and it was partial fury at being bested, and rivalry, and fears he would develop something just as amazing —and smash their company into the ground. The CFO had hired it done. Bannon promised to inform Danny, and explained that, yes, protection would continue until he got onto a plane, if he so desired.

Bannon informed Danny when he got back, on yet another adrenaline high, after jumping out of a perfectly good airplane. “I got an idea, in the air,” said Danny. “Flying above the sky. Ultralight metals, you know. And heat-resistant ceramics.” He chuckled. “I’ve decided that I can’t retire. I’ve gotta do better than those guys who tried to off me.” He laughed. “Develop something, then take my Harley and my money and go somewhere awesome again. This is the best damn vacation I’ve ever had.”

“Glad you’re enjoying it,” said Bannon. “Do you wish to continue protection?”

“Of course!” said Danny. “They weren’t the only company with a bead on me. Love the ones with me. Especially Thandie and Sayan. They have eyes everywhere.”

“Want to go to a pool tournament at Caesar’s tonight after a motorcycle ride around Red Rock?” asked Bannon, shutting off his computer. He’d work well into the night, but he could work from home.

“Let’s do it,” said Danny, standing up.

“See you in about four minutes,” said Bannon.

He dressed in his own private washroom, and sent his suit to be dry cleaned. His admin changed them out with fresh suits every day; a Wolfpack member was the runner for their dry cleaning. He changed into black jeans, leaving on his black top and putting his black boots back on. He put on his vented motorcycle jacket, and stepped out of his office.

Bannon locked the office. “Day shift, Red Rock ride followed by a pool tournament at Caesar’s, dinner on me. Swing, have at it.”

Sixteen men and women surrounded Danny and Bannon. Richland locked up and followed. They got on their bikes, and Bannon led the way to Charleston, then out to Red Rock. The light was still strong on that summer night, the wind warm on their faces. They rode the curves, watching the mountains go by in all their glory, from red to gold, sand to ocher. They screamed into the wind, and rocked out to tunes. They had to tell Danny to cool his jets; his bike took off faster than theirs, and he needed to be in the middle of the pack. They sent some of them on ahead, and let him let out the throttle on a straightaway, whooping and hollering. They put on some Aerosmith, and dreamed on, taking the curves low. Bannon pulled in front, and led them to Parker’s, a high-class steak and seafood house. They had grilled steak and shrimp, the non-cow-eaters sticking to seafood. They drank red wine and lemon water, and talked about their day, careful to use no names or identifying characteristics in front of Danny.

The pool tournament was a delight, with women in tuxedos making impossible shots. There was a wheelchair session; the Soldier Pack was highly interested in that one. Then, the night shift took over Danny’s care. They took him for a snack, drink, and vintage jazz at the lounge, and the rest of them took off for home.

Bannon made it home. Pepper, his German shepherd, woofed softly. She’d been professionally walked, but Bannon took him around anyway. They loved their nightly time together. Pepper had been in the military, and Bannon had personally paid to ship him back and employ him. Pepper was now retired, and a delight to be around. He had near-human intelligence.

Bannon was wiped, but he had a ton of work. So, he and Pepper sat on the black couch with its double recliners in front of the forty-two-inch (silent) television, and Bannon waded through schedules, and new client acquisition, and the current workload. He’d have to hire two more to cover everything.

He sent an email to Bonnie about any she didn’t think wanted to do bikes full time, and did the same with Herja up north, and the Iron Knights. He knocked off, and Pepper shared his bed.

“Not that I don’t love you, girl,” he said to her, “but, I bought this king-sized bed, so someone could come between us.” Pepper licked his nose, and he laughed. “You know, I want a woman with a slightly shorter nose. Who loves dogs. And doesn’t mind me putting in ninety-hour weeks.” Pepper chuffed. “I agree,” he said. “Hard sell. Night, girl.” She curled up against his back, and they both slept.

* * *

Bonnie made a rude noise. “Who does he think he is?” she said to no one. She had gotten her grease-stained fingers on a brand-new Harley service manual for the latest models. She was nearly crying over the Fat Boy model, and paged it with one hand while looking at her email with the other.

“Who?” asked Anna Sokolov, the brand-new Soldier Pack member who had just come up from Indiana, the day before.

“Bannon,” said Bonnie. “Runs the soldier-turned-protection outfit. Takes any of mine and the Iron Knights he can. If I train you, and you either don’t want to fix or build bikes, or only want to do it part-time, then you can go work for Bannon on protection.”

“Even with this?” Anna held up her 3D-printed hand.

“Of course,” said Bonnie. “You’re different, not dead.”

Anna smiled. “Good,” she said. “Nice to have backup.” She stared at the video she was watching on all the parts of a bike. “What do you do with us? Kick us out of the apartment?”

“Bannon’s got his own condos he owns, plus some apartments and houses. Gives a discount on the rent.”

“Sweet,” said Anna.

“Shut up,” said Bonnie. “I’m gonna quiz you in about five minutes.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Anna.

Ghost came in, huffing and puffing. “That Bannon done stole one of my women. I was countin’ on da help, my wifey bein’ pregnant and all. Damn man.”

“Which one?” asked Bonnie. “Let me guess. Jetta?” Ghost nodded, and Bonnie snorted. “Nowhere near as good at soldering a bead as you. Get the next one on the list and ship her up here. Call the Valkyries or the Iron Knights for transport if she has trouble getting here.”

“On it,” said Ghost. “But I’m gonna take a strip outta his hide at the next meetup, ya heah?”

“Get in line,” said Bonnie. “Got a wrench with his name on it.” Ghost huffed back across the street to find the next woman on the list.

“Wow,” said Anna. “You guys are real serious.”

“Harleys are amazing machines,” said Bonnie. “You love and respect them, or you go somewhere else.”

“Got it,” said Anna. She widened her screen to see what the image of Bonnie was doing, and pressed her white earphone farther into her ear.

Killa waddled in about an hour later, a tray of drinks and a bag of tacos on it. “You are my hero,” said Anna. Killa laughed, and the women followed her progress to the back room. They drank cherry lime slushies and ate fish tacos, licking their fingers. “You havin’ a boy or a girl?” asked Anna.

“A girl, and she’s not mine. I’m gonna have this little bit fo’ some real nice people. Paid for our condo, an’ we get to help some people, who cain’t have no baby.”

“Nice,” said Anna. “Been thinkin’ bout that myself. Got a foreign-object arm.” She held it up. “It’s tough, learning to use it. Pain in the ass. Think those people who need people to have their kids would work with someone with no arm?”

Killa laughed. “They not hirin’ ya for ya arm, woman. Ya on any medications?”

“I’m allergic to the sleep med they had me on. The nightmares ain’t really my problem, you know? More not sleeping.”

Killa nodded. “Some ‘a da tings we been through, I gotta same thing. Key is to keep busy. I love makin’ da bikes. My wifey, she makes da mini Harleys. She be hoppin’ wif all da new models. Now I’m knocked up, makin’ her crazy tryin’ to do all a’ it.”

“I can help,” said Anna. “We can get some cots, or bunks. I’m okay with that. Get two new girls, ‘stead of one. We learn the Harleys, old ones, new ones, whatever.” Anna’s face that was usually pulled into a mix of anxiety and sadness, brightened up. “We can make a difference, here, seems like.”

“I’ll text my wifey, order two a’ ya. Be good gettin’ some new girls in. Da old ones do betta wif Bannon.”

“Who’s Bannon?” asked Anna, now putting the trash in the bag to throw away.

“He’s da guy, works wif Gregory, has a place called High Desert Security something. Protects dem VIPs,” she said, and laughed. She sipped her cherry lime drink, which turned her lips a dark red.

“Don’t think I wanna do that again,” said Anna, massaging her shoulder. “Got chunks out of the muscle. Don’t have as much arm strength as I used to.”

“Don’ matta heah,” said Killa. “You be the right hand heah, you fit in jus’ fine.”

“Well, this jawing ain’t getting the work done,” said Bonnie. “Come on, Anna. Let’s get you some Harley knowledge. Killa, this was awesome.”

“Wasn’t nuffin,’” said Killa, grinning. “You don’t be a stranga, Anna, heah?”

“I hear you,” said Anna. They all went back to work.

Ghost ordered up two women, had Callie build pods for the nervous but generous Anna’s room, and was stunned when Staff Sergeant Tori Kym showed up, along with Specialist Deek Weckhart.

Tori was short, with blue-black hair that moved as she walked. It was cut to her chin. Then, black eyes and a round face. She moved like water, comfortable on her double blade legs. Deek was used to fixing choppers, but got the lay of the land very quickly around a Harley. She had all her limbs, but seemed to be in a daze a lot of the time. Tori paid attention, and set Deek’s phone on a Pomodoro timer to ring every twenty-five minutes. It didn’t matter; her output was nearly the same, either way. Tori slept on the top bunk, nervous that a dazed Deek would miss the ladder in the morning.

They already had a cooking and cleaning schedule, but Tori had a way of keeping everything blindingly clean —and hearty meals of soups simmering in a crock pot, sandwiches, salads, and tacos churned out, with breakfast sandwiches ready to go in the morning. Some of it they made, and some were from the Wolfpack business. They always had fresh fruits and salads ready to eat. Tori took to Harleys like water to the ocean. She displayed accurate knowledge of the basic models. A confused Ghost said, “Why ya know so much?”

“Heard the women get taken faster off the list, so I figured I better study up,” said Tori.

“Good,” said Ghost. “The fasta you help us heah, the more time I get wif my wifey.”

“On it,” said Tori.

She took a crossover shift to learn from both Ghost and Bonnie, and quickly realized the trikes bored her, and she loved the dirt bikes. She acted like she was learning field surgery from a doctor, her moves precise. She made mistakes, but never made them twice, and got better at catching them before she went too far down the wrong path. She quizzed the other Soldier Pack in the apartment relentlessly, and they all got a lot better a lot quicker… even Anna.

Anna was terrified that her slow improvement spelled her getting thrown out on the street. Tori reassured her. “If they didn’t like you, you’d be out on your ear in a week. You see Ghost, Killa, or Bonnie putting up with any shit?” Anna shook her head. “That’s right. And maybe you specialize. Ghost is the best welder I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a few. Maybe you rotate, unboxing, sending things out to be painted, painting what we can do here, putting things together. Find out what you like, and rotate around those things. Save Ghost for what she does best.”

“She’s right,” said Deek. “Those women can see quality. Quality work, not quantity. You do it right and it takes a while, what the fuck, who cares. Maybe we step in, hurry it up for you on some parts. We’re all in this together, huh?”

Tori couldn’t figure out Anna’s nervousness. The military should have gotten a lot of that out of her. It was Killa that clued her in over dinner, when Deek and Anna had gone home. “She acts like I did when I was fifteen,” said Killa. “Like a nervous dog. She been raped, or some such.”

Tori stared. “Thought it was PTSD.”

“Is, but not,” said Killa. “Bonnie done set me straight. And, Ghost and I look him up. He dead, tryin’ ta hold up some liquor store.”

“Sorry to hear that. Not that he’s dead, but that you went through that.”

Killa shrugged. “So many ‘a us do, ya know. Be tryin’ to change da world, one girl atta time. Work wif some o’ dem girls, paid fo’ a shelta, get street girls inna da safe place, gettin’ ‘em some schoolin’. Dem girls, dey take a hit, make ‘em feel better, get ‘dicted, next ting ya know dey dead in a gutta. Ghost an’ I, we lucky. We get straight real early, den we get Bonnie. She kill if anyone hurt us, ya know? ‘Till we strong enuf ta protec’ ourselfs.”

Tori’s mind reeled. “We want in. On helping the street girls. Not do-gooder stuff. Real stuff. Get ‘em clean, off the street, better lives. Like this one. It’s a real-good life, lots of freedom. Do what I want, when I want. Price is higha den some of dem want ta pay. Gettin’ clean, gettin’ real. Gettin’ serious ‘bout changin’ ya life.”

Tori looked down at her blades, then back up. “I thought losing these was the worst that could happen to me. There’s always something worse, isn’t there?”

“Yeah,” said Killa. “There is. Ain’t no fairy tales. Monsters is real.”

The next night, Tori brought home a bottle of tequila, two limes, three shot glasses, a box of tissues, and one of wet wipes. She put it all down in their room on the tiny table, then brought in salt, a plastic lid filled with water, and a paring knife. They all had to work the next day, so she had to get it done.

They were awake, watching TV in their bunks. Tori said absolutely nothing, just tore the seal off the bottle. She put the shot glass in the water and salt, and poured the tequila. She cut up the limes, put pillows on the floor, and set the radio to low, some pop music. First Deek, then Anna, stuck their heads out. They came out of their pods like turtles sticking out their heads and feet. They sat on the floor around the table. Tori took off her blades. Tori still said nothing, just passed around the glasses. They drank. She salted the glasses again, poured more, passed out the limes, and took another shot. They all drank. Deek looked exactly the same, but Anna looked glassy-eyed.

“Why we drinking?” asked Deek.

“I was with Third Company. We were coming back from a successful mission, a rescue, a family. The little boy had just been passed to his father, outside the truck, when we pulled out. I never heard the tick, saw a flash. Just Lieutenant Patterson’s body turned into a fine mist, splashed across me. Danvers lost an eye, Volso an arm. He killed himself the day he got out of the hospital, Volso, not Danvers. Danvers is fine, still a computer geek. I lost both legs in a crushed and mangled truck. Luckily, I didn’t bleed out. The kid and his dad? Gone, just gone. Got discharged, got home, got lots of sad eyes, an entire church praying for me. My mother did nothing but cry when I was there. She’s weak, you know? I got tired of taking care of her, of trying to make her feel better. Got my blades on my feet, moved into a tiny place I shared with another woman. She was a drunk, tried stealing my stuff until I told her I’d remove her eyes with a vegetable peeler if I ended up missing a single dollar, ever again. Waited ‘till I got the call I’d been chosen, got my ass out here on the next bus.” Tori poured, and they all drank again.

Deek sat, rock-solid, while Anna swayed from side to side. “Worked on choppers. Started on packing equipment, moved to installing seats, moved to actually working on the birds. Never got to fly them. I wanted to. Got shot down. Walked back with two. I was the only one made it back. Tricky Tom bled out, and Gregorovich just went to sleep and never woke the hell up. Hid one body under rocks and dragged the other one to the evac point. They went back for the cairn. Dug it up, brought him back. Found out Gregorovich died of a brain bleed, so they both died bleeding, one out, one in.” She gave a bark of a laugh, poured, and drank. “I was sleeping with both of them. They didn’t care, said I was enough to share. Been kind of a zombie since.” She laughed with absolutely no mirth. “I am the zombie apocalypse.”

Anna said it in a rush. “Was my own fucking unit, two of them. Way out there. Supposed to be keeping each other safe, you know?” She dug her nails into her palms, crescents turning white, then red. “Zim was always an asshole, but Yonck? Guy never said two words to me. Did it, rapped me on the head, left me there. Finished their circuit, went back. It took them two days to find me. By then, they had a story cooked up. How I freaked out, ran off. I was too…” She poured her own tequila, and downed it. “I went into deep shock. Was what they called it. Came out of it in Germany. By then, both of those fuckers were long gone.” Tears ran down her face. She didn’t sob, just let them out. “By the time I’d gotten around to telling someone what really happened, no evidence. My word against two senior officers. I ended up in Supply. Can’t tell if that was punishment, or if they thought I would freak out if I had a gun, and maybe go after them.”

“Where are they now?” asked Tori, her voice very low.

“Dunno. Tried to find them, went up against the military wall.”

“Give me what you know,” said Tori. She pulled out her phone, and put in all the information Anna could remember. Tori handed Deek a packet of wet wipes, and Deek came out of her shell enough to help Anna cry. She rubbed Anna’s back and arms.

Tori remembered Gregory coming to visit, a cookout at Henry’s place. He’d given her a card if they needed anything. “Nighthawks stick together,” he said. Gregory was a gunny. He’d know what to do, and he worked for an agency with deep pockets.

* * *

Gregory was slowly stroking Kayta’s arm. She had exhausted him once again, and she was sliding into sleep. He grabbed the phone before it could annoy her. An angry, sleepy Katya was a sight to behold.

“Gunny, it’s Staff Sergeant Tori Kym. I need your help.”

“Anything,” said Gregory. He extricated his arm, and grabbed the pen and paper he kept by the bed.

“Two officers raped a woman in their unit and left her for dead in enemy territory. Made up some wild story about her running away. She was too much in shock to talk about it until she came to, and by then, they were in the wind, and it was her word against theirs.”

Gregory’s eyes got hard. “These walking corpses have names?”

“Zim and Yonck. Yonck was a sniper that never talked, so we know next to nothing about him. His spotter’s name was Antonia Zim, a real asshole. Everyone called her Toni.”

“A man and a woman raped her. Unusual, but not unheard of,” said Gregory. “Probably part of why they had trouble believing her. What else?”

“Zim lied when her lips were moving, saying she was from Indiana, then Iowa, then somewhere else. Said she had money, then said she lost it in a poker night in Vegas. Stuff like that.”

“Lovely. A silent type, and a compulsive liar. Maybe deliberate, if they were criminal types to begin with.”

Tori continued. “Anna was a terrain specialist, great at getting them into holes and caves they could use as blinds. They put her in Supply after it happened, then discharged her.”

“Waste,” said Gregory. “And a valuable sniper and spotter may have been protected from some asshole brass who thought they were needed more than a terrain specialist.”

“Yes,” said Tori.

“On it,” said Gregory. “You sit tight. Your new mission is protection. I’ve got people from here to fucking Mars, we’ve got so much going on, so I can’t spare people to do it. There may be blowback as I tug on some strings. Get armed, get some lightweight body armor, and protect her.”

“On it,” said Tori.

“Your best bet is to join the Valkyries. Or just tell them about it. They’ll be all over this like white on rice.” He rubbed his eyes. “Tell them to stand down until I know what’s what, you hear?”

“Yes,” said Tori.

“You did right to bring this to me,” said Gregory. “I’ll courier over a card, enough to get you the guns and body armor for... how many?”

“Three,” said Tori. “I’ve gotta tell Bonnie, but three, so far.”

Gregory snorted. “Bonnie’ll put a wrench up their ass. So, okay. Three. Bonnie would just laugh if I tried to get her to wear body armor. Stay sharp, stay safe.”

“On it,” said Tori. She hung up.

Katya turned over. “Someone is threatening one of ours?”

“One of Soldier Pack. She was raped, then discharged, and her rapists were never prosecuted.”

Katya’s blue eyes turned the cold of a Siberian wind. “Put them in ground,” she said.

“Yes, love,” he said.

“You find bad guys in morning. Now, go to sleep.”

“Yes, love,” said Gregory. He gave a smile as she held onto him.

Challenge

In the morning, Gregory played with his beloved boys, making them chortle. He changed them, fed them, and got them into the playroom before the Two D’s arrived with Lily’s lovelies. He kissed them all, except the D’s, and went out, coffee cup in hand. He was angry in a place deep inside. He decided to stop off with the only person he knew of that could get the job done.

He was surprised when Wraith opened the door. She had her hair cut much shorter, but still had the trademark Valkyrie braids. She stood tall. Her face was lined with some pain, but she looked much better.

She smiled. “Gregory!” She hugged him. “Sigrun was just…”

“Running out!” she said. “Gotta finish my oil painting. I…”

“Hate oils!” finished Wraith. Sigrun kissed her, careful not to shove her into the walker, and zipped out the door, tubes of artwork in her right hand, a backpack on her back. She wore a breezy blue pair of shorts and a blue T-shirt with “Rock On!” done up in silver. She flew out past Gregory, and ran down the hall to the stairs.

“What just happened?” asked Gregory.

“You’ve been Sigrunned. Come in,” said Wraith. “I’m zippier than I look on this thing. Should be able to ditch it soon. Can’t do crutches with this shoulder.”

“Sigrunned?” asked Gregory.

“Since Saber went deep again, before we had time to exchange rings, I might add, we expect him back in a couple of weeks, dirty and depressed. Sigrun runs around like a chicken, trying to do stuff. We’ve hired half the Wolfpack, it seems, so it’s okay, I have backup. She’s trying to catch up on all she missed. Spending a lot of time on the 3D project to print kids’ hands. We ordered some printers, then some guy named Danny said he’s sending over some top-of-the-line stuff and two engineers to set it up and show how to program them —and where do we want them? We freaked, but then we put Sigrun on it.” Wraith slid herself onto her recliner, and sat. “She got the school, the school! She got them to use a huge basement room and set it up. She got students to paint murals based on pics of the kids on the list, herself included, had it counted as class credit. We’ve got students from three different universities and colleges coming in to print the hands. She’s got an eye, I tell you, and she’s learning how to code and set up the printers. Part of a special joint project. She got it all typed up and sent it out, and set it up —and now it’s an actual class.”

Gregory failed to mention that he and Bannon donated some money toward the project. “I hate to interrupt a flood of good news, but I’ve got to be in conference in half an hour. I hear you know Lily’s friend, Daisy Chain.”

“She’s part of the installation. Major coding skills. Whachu need?”

“It’s a horrible story about a crime that happened overseas against a woman that was never prosecuted.”

“Wait,” said Wraith. She grabbed her tablet. “Who did it, and where is this evildoer?”

“That’s what I need you and Daisy Chain for. And some protection for the victim. She’s surrounded by ex-soldiers, but…”

“Valkyries. Yes, we can do that.” She punched some buttons. “Lay it on me.” He spent five minutes spelling it out. “Okay, got it,” she said. “Get the hell out of here, and we’ll get to work.” He kissed her cheek, and left quickly.

Her eyes had gone as steely as his wife’s. As he mounted his bike, he regretted, just for a moment, setting a Valkyrie loose on the perpetrators. Then, he remembered the story, and the regret was gone like the desert wind.

Lily came over when Wraith called. She was still on time to her breakfast meeting with a client, if Wraith kept it short. She expected some questions about insurance, but instead got an earful about a crime and the need for Daisy Chain. Lily held up her hand, pulled up her tablet, and Skyped Daisy Chain. Daisy was pounding on a keyboard, bopping her head to some electronica.

“Speak,” she said.

“Horrible crime against a woman, doers in the wind,” said Lily.

“Fuck me. Names of doers?” Daisy Chain stilled her fingers, ready for the information.

Lily gave the abbreviated info, then gave Gregory’s number. “He’s running point, ex-military, wants these fuckers in the worst way. Deliver the information to Wraith here, and/or to him.”

Wraith waved. “Hiya. Benched for the moment, me versus truck. Can use my usual contacts, but you’re faster.”

“One of us will pay you,” said Lily.

“Fuck off,” said Daisy Chain. “I’m insulted. This one’s for all of us. Now, go the fuck away and let me work.”

Lily cut off the call, and stood up. “You get better. I’ve got a meeting to rush off to.” She hugged Wraith.

“Get outta here,” said Wraith.

Once Lily left, Wraith called Skuld. “Got a woman, ex-military, got ex-military around her. She’ll be in danger when we poke a hornet’s nest for her.”

Skuld had one eye open, but “woman in danger” penetrated her sleep-fogged head. “Who and where?”

Wraith told her. “I’ll take first shift. I may be fucking crippled, but I can still shoot.”

Skuld barked a laugh. “I dare any fucker to take you on, even scooting around on that pink thing.” Sigrun had spray-painted the walker a metallic pink. “On it,” Skuld said. “Rota second, me third. Or another of us.”

“Big favor.”

“Fuck you,” said Skuld. “Someone does that to a woman, I want first dibs on the spleen.”

“This fucker’s a shooter,” said Wraith, “His partner’s his spotter.”

“A challenge,” said Skuld, with pleasure and excitement in her voice.

“Not for too long,” said Wraith. They hung up.

Wraith went to her bedroom, opened the closet door, slid over the shoe rack, and pulled on the hidden back panel. She switched out her shorts for black jeans, and her bare feet got socks, boots, and a knife in her left boot, and a gun in her right one in an ankle holster. She took off her metallic pink tee, carefully slid on her body armor, and slid the tee back on. It still hurt to reach around back. She put a gun in a holster in the small of her back. She could shoot with either hand. She decided that she had a few hours before the shit hit the fan, so she put on her vented motorcycle jacket and called an Uber to take her to the shooting range. She used both guns, then cleaned and oiled them.

Hellion from the Iron Knights dropped her off at Bonnie’s garage, walker and all. “I can see something’s up,” he said. “Something’s got the Valkyries all riled up, and you’re loaded for bear like the old days —and wearing body armor.”

“Woman got hurt a long time ago,” said Wraith, “when she was in the military. Fuckers never got prosecuted. We’re going hunting, and there may be some blowback. Maybe literally, a sniper and his spotter are the doers.”

“Fuck me,” said Hellion. “Whatever the hell you need, you call, anytime, day or night. You need a shift done, we’re all over it. You need to find the nest. Fucker will probably wear a ghillie suit.” A ghillie suit was worn over a sniper’s clothing to blend in with the surroundings.

“Hard time of it to do that in Vegas,” said Wraith, “But, I take your meaning. Hope to nail this fucker, but don’t know how long it will take to either find him, or flush him out.”

“Damn idiots,” said Hellion. “Won’t know who they’ve crossed until it is much, much too late.”

“It’s how I like it,” said Wraith.

She didn’t have that many choices. In with the Nighthawks. Across the street in Bonnie’s new digs, the Harley school. Actually, that one had possibilities. She could always teach. Across the way was a gas station. Useful for gassing up, but hardly a coffee shop where she could hang around.

Gregory was swamped. Really damn swamped. She had an idea. She called him. “I’m going to be working at the empty classroom at Henry’s new digs,” she said.

“With a view right onto the garage,” he said. “Nice. What do you need from me?”

“I’m bored as hell. Caught up on old cases, cold cases, all sorts of crap. Not fully healed yet, can’t run. Can shoot, but hardly go out in the field.” She snorted. “Unless it’s to infiltrate a nursing home.” They both snorted laughter. “You’re busy, I’m not. Put me to work.”

“Done,” said Gregory. “Nondisclosure agreement and lots of work coming your way.”

“Good. Have the runner pick me up a baby refrigerator, drinks, a baby microwave, and some frozen stuff.”

“Done,” said Gregory. “Shut up. I’m busy.” He hung up, and she laughed.

Wraith entered the building, and laboriously made it up the stairs. She only found the elevator when she used the bathroom, making her laugh ruefully. She dragged a table to sit diagonally, and stole a chair from an office down the hall. She used a box as an ottoman, and settled in with her tablet. Deb, a Wolfpack member on her way to becoming a Valkyrie, pushed a cart in. She handed her backpack off to Wraith. Wraith opened it, and found a lovely, blue, metallic laptop inside. Deb plugged it in for her. Wraith signed the nondisclosure agreement, then started wading through emails and contracts.

Deb set up the refrigerator and microwave, plugged them in, and filled up the refrigerator with sodas, water, juices, and some frozen burritos and refrigerated Chinese food. Deb took her credit card, and ran it. She ran it again for the Wolfpack fee, bowed, and was gone without saying a word.

“Love that kid,” said Wraith to herself.

Nothing happened inside. They were smart, keeping Anna inside the building. A delivery guy brought Chinese for the garage. Wraith zapped her pork fried rice, and ate it with wooden chopsticks. Deb had helpfully left it all on top of the microwave, along with sporks, sports bars, and mixed nuts.

“I hate sporks,” said Wraith, to no one. Wraith sat back down. “Your assistants need assistants,” she said to the absent Gregory.

She went through the Possible Clients file, and did some digging. Some, such as a food manufacturer run by ex-military women, were not in great need, and could be put off for a while. Two were in real need of help, and Wraith flagged them to either be helped, or sent to someone who could.

Wraith ate a snack of mixed nuts, and plowed through more work. She found two important, two urgent, and three not-worth-it companies. She put it all in a spreadsheet, added Gregory and his admin to the document, and packed up for the day. She was spot-on. She called a fast Uber, went down the elevator and out the back, and picked up the Uber on the street. She had the driver, a blonde with her cap pulled down tight and jazz on the radio, follow the bikes to a local bar and grill. Wraith paid the woman, and went in. She spotted Bonnie and the other women, slid over, and sat down at the four-top, gratefully.

Bonnie nodded. “I figured it was you I saw from the window today. Okay if I out you to these fine ladies?” Wraith nodded, wondering if Bonnie was going to tell about her being DEA, or being in a poly relationship with both a man and a woman. “Wraith here’s law enforcement, three letters, not telling you which ones.”

“My husband’s agency has four letters now,” said Wraith. “But nobody calls it that.”

Tori nodded. “Good merge,” she said. “You ever work together?”

“Rarely,” said Wraith. “He’s out of town, and our girlfriend is at school, with back-to-back art projects.” There, she’d outed herself.

The others took this news in stride. “If I may ask…” started Tori. She gestured at the walker.

“Truck versus motorcycle. Assassin. No longer assassinating anyone.” Wraith grinned a feral grin. “The Valkyries don’t like people messing with them.”

“Heard about that,” said Deek. “Glad you’re improving so fast.”

Wraith snorted. “Doesn’t feel fast, but… doing better.”

They all ordered Cokes and waters, and a round of cheese sticks followed by grilled steak and chicken fajitas. “So, you are learning Harleys from the master,” said Wraith.

Bonnie snorted. “Be the student now. Nine models! I’ll be years learning the ins and outs of each one.”

Tori nodded. “We’re all learning together. Bonnie had a conversation with an engineer there, so I reached out. Told him about our Soldier Pack. He got real quiet, then he said, ‘I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but in chunks. I already need a clone as it is, and I’ve got three girls I’m raising by myself.’ I send him a list of all our questions, ‘bout twenty at a time. He sends us a short answer, sometimes a little video.”

“Got people from all over the company answering questions,” said Bonnie. “Never seen the like. We keep it short, simple, clear. They answer us the same way. Love that about them.” She took a drink of her Coke. “Love that,” she repeated.

Deek grinned, more focused this day. “Get to hear from real gearheads. Love it.”

“Got a club of gearheads,” said Bonnie. “Told them about the Soldier Pack. They’re too covered with grease to plan out expanding their garage on their own, so I sent Tito out there. Got them a plan. Won’t get done ‘till next year, though. Slowpokes.”

Wraith laughed. “One thing I can say for sure about we Nighthawks. We don’t waste time. We get a plan and get it done.”

“Get ‘er done!” said Deek. They all clinked glasses. The server came by, and dropped off the appetizers.

“You okay there, Anna?” asked Bonnie. “You said nothing all day.”

“She’s recovering,” said Tori. “Some assholes back in the day.”

“Sucks,” said Bonnie. “They catch the assholes?”

“Naw, still out there,” said Tori.

“We gotta do something about that,” said Bonnie.

“Valkyries are on it,” said Wraith, stealing a cheese stick.

“Who?” asked Deek.

“We’re a Harley club,” said Wraith.

“Of females that kick ass,” said Bonnie.

“Ooohhh,” said Tori. “You’re recruiting. Me, I take it.”

“Maybe,” said Wraith, slyly. “I’m not really ass-kicking, right now.”

“Bullshit,” said Tori. “I want your weaponry.”

“Would you like me to take you shopping?”

Tori grinned. “Absolutely.”

“She just got recruited,” said Deek.

“What about you?” Wraith asked Anna.

Anna looked panicked. “What?”

“The best way to make your life awesome,” said Wraith, “is to become strong. I was a hair’s breadth from not surviving. I was in excellent physical health before the accident, so my recovery has been shorter.” She snorted. “Doesn’t feel shorter, but it is.”

“I don’t know,” said Anna.

“Come on down to our practice days. We get together with The Society for Creative Anachronism.”

“Whoa,” said Tori. “I get to practice with swords?”

The others dug into the food while Wraith took out her boot knife and passed it over. Tori tested the heft, and passed it back.

“Lovely,” said Tori. “When?”

“Tomorrow morning, early. Bring your clan, here. Might as well have some fun.”

“Well, then, let’s eat and go,” said Tori. “Awesome!”

Anna looked terrified. “Anna,” said Wraith. “You can hang out with me. I can’t damage my body again while it heals.”

“Oh,” said Anna. “Okay.”

The rest of their food came, and they ate like pigs. They split a chocolate-fudge-brownie ice cream concoction, and then they went home. Wraith had Bonnie follow the ladies home on the pretext of finding out where they lived, and so she could take them to the field in the morning, then Bonnie dropped her off.

Sigrun drove them in Saber’s company car. They picked up the ladies, and took them to a pancake house for breakfast, then to the field. They all put on padding, except Anna and Wraith. Wraith loved watching Sigrun work. Herja trained Tori, and Rota fought Sigrun with wooden knives. They flew around each other, braided hair flying in the light. Herja taught Tori the basics, and the two women were soon going at it with wooden stakes.

“It’s beautiful,” said Anna. “So strong, and very fast.”

“Which do you like better?” asked Wraith. “The knives, the staves?” The Society for Creative Anachronism, with both male and female members, were practicing with wooden swords. “Swords?”

“Knives, dirks really, they’re so long,” said Anna.

“Boot knives can be pretty long,” said Wraith. “Got to get up close and personal, but there are throwing knives and stars. You can sew pockets for the stars inside of a jacket. Even if you miss, it might make an attacker think twice. You can also run.” She looked down. “You have feet. Even in my condition, I could fight. Just have to be careful not to re-damage myself.”

“How?” asked Anna.

Wraith said, “Give me your hand.” She then froze Anna’s joints by twisting her wrist and pushing up on her arm. She let her go, immediately. “The next step is to jump up, and step forward. This will throw the person forward. Then, run like hell in the other direction.”

Anna looked down at her hand. “That didn’t hurt.”

“No, it’s joint freezing. Not dislocating things. You can do that, but this is just to get someone out of your damn way when you want to run.”

“Show me,” said Anna. “Do it again.” Wraith showed her, again and again.

Wraith called over Sigrun and and Rota. “Show the aikido hold.” She demonstrated it. Sigrun grinned, and used it to throw Rota. Rota then threw Sigrun.

The Society people came over. “Aikido,” said the woman in the loincloth and leather top. “Let me show you, Ben.” She then threw her partner. The pairs had fun throwing each other.

“Go try it,” said Anna. “Ask Rota and Sigrun. They’ll do it in slow-mo first, to show you.”

“Come on,” said Sigrun. “It’s fun. What’s your name?”

“Joru,” said Wraith.

“What?” said Anna.

“Your Valkyries name. Joru, is shortened form of the Norse word, joru-faiger, which means ‘warrior.’”

“Whoa!” said Sigrun. “Great name! Come on, let’s dance.”

Rota came over and sat down. “She has no idea we’re all here to protect her, does she?” she asked Wraith.

“Not a clue,” said Wraith.

“You could do some things,” said Rota. “At least dance with staffs on your good side.”

“No contact,” said Wraith. “And I may stop to use the staff to stand.”

“It’s why I suggested it,” said Rota.

She handed her a staff from the pile leaned against the company vehicle, and took one from herself. Wraith wrapped her hands around it, and used it to stand up. They did the forms, slowly, with frequent rest breaks for Wraith. By the time they were done, Wraith was sore, groaning, and covered with sweat. Rota gave her a towel and a sports drink, and sat with her.

“You find the sons of bitches who hurt Joru?”

Wraith swallowed half the sports drink, and wiped her mouth. “The super-awesome Daisy Chain, Lily’s hacker friend, found the woman. Both went dark, doing secret shit, we presume. Both out now. The woman’s going by Corey Zimba. She went by Zim in the military. She was a liar then —and is one now. Lots of her records are redacted. She’s working for a protection outfit, by that I mean mafia, not what Gregory and Bannon do. Some wild-ass freaks, a mix of Dominican salespeople and Serbian enforcers. Seems she’s lied to them about what she can and can’t do, tried to be the shooter her ex-partner was, but that’s not her thing. She’s botched some jobs. We can leave that situation alone; she’s gonna get herself offed. No use taking out an entire gang, unless my people want to get into it. They might; would make the world safer.” Wraith meant government agencies like the DEA and ATF.

“And the man?” asked Rota.

“Well, he’s even more redacted than she is. Edwin Mulger Yonck is passing himself off as Eddie Mulger, married, but no kids yet.”

“Good,” said Rota. “And?”

“Got a very expensive woman,” said Wraith. “She has money, but burns through it with a butler and first-class plane tickets, diamond watches and furs.”

“He’s riding her coattails?”

“Yes, and it gets him flying with her on her private plane. No having to get through security. People die wherever he goes from shots through glass —people in cars, apartments, eating in restaurants.”

“Contract killer,” said Rota.

“Yeah,” said Wraith. “Going up against him is gonna suck. Once he gets the faintest hint someone is looking for him, he’ll either slip into the wind, or kill off anyone who can identify his… ‘activities.’”

“We’re all gonna be wearing body armor for a while until we can take him out,” said Rota.

“There’s no going backwards. We go forward with this, we go all the way. This guy is one of those that won’t stop. Or he’ll hole up and smack down someone else when he crawls back up.”

“He hurt Joru,” said Rota. “What happened next? Obviously, some asshole covering it up, that’s gotta be dealt with, too.”

“Looking into it,” said Wraith. “Seems to be a general, high up. Looking into his entire record. Not so redacted. Not his first time covering up rape and other things he calls ‘issues’ in his documentation…”

“Wait. He called rape an ‘issue,’ really?” asked Rota.

“Yeah,” said Wraith. “Burns my ass, too.”

“That son-of-a-bitch is going down,” said Rota.

“One at a time,” said Wraith. “We have a contract killer to take down.”

“Alive or dead?” asked Rota.

“You think this guy is gonna change, if he ever gets out?”

“That’s a point,” said Rota.

“I also don’t think he’ll get taken down easy,” said Wraith. “We get lucky, we clock him in the head, but he won’t let anyone close enough for that.”

“Also, the elephant in the room,” said Rota. “You’re not up to this. Some of it, yes. A part, a puzzle piece.”

Wraith barked out a laugh. “Not an elephant in my room, in my house. We’re clear. I’m lookout, here, wearing my bulletproof vest. I know damn well, now —that I’m not bulletproof.”

“You going to go back in, undercover?”

Wraith sighed, and enjoyed watching the women move in the desert sunlight, sweat dripping, laughing in the light. “I’m not going back,” she said. “Not because I’m damaged goods, or because I’m afraid of getting run over, or shot, or whatever. I just… life is short. I get Saber wanting to go under, to take out the bad guys. Hell, we’re doing some of it now. I loved it. But now, now… I’ve turned a corner. Can’t go back around the corner.”

“Current plan?” asked Rota.

“Drifting hasn’t been working for me.” Wraith laughed. “I’ve been wrapping up old work, not doing nothing, but it’s… old, you know? Still going to testify in some cases. But, I’m out.” She looked over at Sigrun, and smiled. “You know what? Bannon and Gregory are so busy that they both need clones. Their assistants need assistants. I think… I think I could run things. Run it, silent running. Get things running behind the scenes so they can do all the work they do, and then they can help people out, even more. Get it done, get the clients in and out. Not taking away from what Gregory and Bannon do, just take all the bullshit off their plates so they can get the job done.”

“That’s the… that’s the best damn idea I’ve ever heard,” said Rota. “You bother to tell Gregory or Bannon?”

“Just figured I’d do it. Get it done, and see if they notice.” She laughed. “And offer me a huge-ass salary.”

Rota laughed. “Here’s to the big-ass salary!” They clinked plastic bottles, and chugged the rest of their drinks.

Homecoming

The daddies got the pixies, and Henry and David took them horseback riding. They loved it. Chayton and Nantan rode another trail that crisscrossed. They met back at the Big House for tacos and sodas, then a movie marathon with popcorn. The daddies pretended to be Disney princesses, making the girls laugh and groan over having such lame men around. Robert took Damia upstairs when things got loud —to paint by numbers, with a noise-canceling headset on. He brought the men up, one by one, to see her beatific smile. Henry and David stood in the doorway the longest, and snapped pictures for Ivy and Callie. They had dinner, or breakfast for dinner, in the form of chocolate chip or strawberry pancakes. The smaller ones pooped out, and they turned to superhero flicks. They all imitated their favorite superheroes, and kept up a lively dialogue as to which superhero was the best.

That morning, Ace helped Lily with Rose and Colin, kissed his wife, and vanished to go work the bar with Cougar. Ivy arrived with Aiden and Kiya, and installed them in high chairs.

“Quick, I want to talk jealously about Katya before she shows up,” said Lily. “Love the woman, she had our baby for us, but she makes being the mother of twins, plus mother of Elena, look so fu—freaking easy.”

“Agreed,” said Ivy.

“I mean, I’ve got Jake, the most loving wonder pug ever, and Maude, Eater of Shoes, best Yorkshire terrier in the world. Plus Ace, who adores us, and a small army of Wolfpack helping me, and delivering the food, and I still don’t sleep. She actually sleeps?”

“How did you get Maude to stop eating shoes?” asked Ivy.

“Doggy training, and she hates the smell of vanilla. A touch on the shoes, and no biting.”

“Wow,” said Ivy. “And, I sleep. Callie and I just keep trading off until we drop.” She stared down at her water glass. “I am still getting used to Damia going to live over the barn, and Hu going to live with her mom. Hu’s over all the time, and I see Damia every day. Getting really good at currying horses, too. And mucking out stalls. And filling feed bags. But, even with two babies and one, very-talkative Grace, the house still feels so quiet and still, sometimes —without them in the house. They filled it up.”

“And, how’s Grace doing with Hu withdrawing from the Nighthawks school?” The server showed up, and they both ordered iced teas.

“She was really angry, sad, and upset,” said Ivy. “Kind of kicked her in the teeth that her behavior has consequences. Not stickers, not losing TV time, but real consequences. Losing friendships, or sisters. Driving people away from you who matter. Now, she is thriving at school without constantly competing with Hu for attention, and to be the ‘best.’ She’s started learning 3D printing. She’s more relaxed, smiles more. She actually pays attention to her Pomodoro timer, and gets a lot more work done. She asks more questions. Callie says the other kids like her more, and play with her more. Hu invites her over all the time to her house, giving us the same breaks we had before, bless Bao and Nico.”

The server brought rosemary bread and dipping oil. Ivy cracked black pepper on the oil, and dug in. “How is Nico handling being an instant dad?” asked Ivy, in between bites.

“He’s fantastic,” said Lily. “He’s teaching them to cook Italian, and is the perfect gentleman around them.”

Ivy sighed. “If I weren’t married to Callie…”

Callie swung in, sat down. “Hey!” she said. “You planning an affair?”

Ivy laughed, and kissed her. “No, love. I was explaining how Nico is with the girls.”

“And the babies!” said Callie, handing Aiden more Cheerios. “He keeps coming over and stealing them. He covers them with sunscreen, takes them out in the yard, and plays with them in the shade. He rolls a ball to them.”

“Ba,” said Aiden. All three women stared at him, and Callie teared up. “Mabba ba,” he said.

Callie sighed. “Not the first word. Good, because I wanted it to be Mama or Mom.”

Lily laid back her head and pretended to snore. “Methinks someone needs a Daddy Day,” said Ivy.

“Had one last week,” said Lily. “Slept all damn day. Wanted a massage, foot rub, nails done, but never got there.”

Callie laughed. “I’ve done the same thing.”

Katya showed up, the babies with cute koala backpacks on. The ladies helped strap them into high chairs. The babies each had snacks, diced soft fruit, and tiny cheese crackers. Luka stared at everyone, and Ivan had eyes only for his food.

“She definitely slept,” said Callie. “How are you sleeping?”

Katya waved her hand. “Gregory takes boys. He is excellent father. Am pregnant again, so he is very attentive. And, the Wolfpack are there many times. Clean house, feed me soup. They took my recipes for perogies, and gave me borscht.”

“Beet soup is not my thing,” said Callie.

“Very good in winter,” said Katya. “And good when pregnant.”

“Are the parents really excited?” asked Ivy.

“One or the other come to the doctor visits,” said Katya. “See baby, hear heartbeat. Go home crying. Very happy.”

Bella and Inola came with Ryder. Bella looked good, but tired. Ryder loved staring at the other babies, and kept up a steady stream of speech that made the other babies talk as well.

“Chatty bunch,” said Bella.

“Almost had a first word, but false alarm,” said Ivy. “Callie almost cried.”

“I cry at dog commercials,” said Callie. “Pass the bread. Hungry woman here.” The server came back, and they all ordered soup and salad. “Love the mushroom soup here,” said Callie.

“Half blue corn, half clam chowder,” said Inola.

Bella put her hand over her mouth. “No c-word,” said Bella. “The blue corn tortilla soup rocks, but no bivalves, please.”

“How is pregnancy going?” asked Katya.

“Fine,” said Bella.

“Liar,” said Inola. “She has morning sickness all day long.”

“Gee, thanks for telling everyone,” said Bella.

“And she’s cranky, too,” said Inola.

Bella stared lasers at Inola. “You are so loving and supportive… not.”

Inola grinned. “I am. I get up at oh-god-thirty, spend the morning with our lovely. You get up later.”

“Like us!” said Callie. “Ivy and I love being on swing in the summer. Things cool off at night.”

“Yeah, but you’re on the same schedule. We’re not,” complained Bella.

“You want to work part-time?” asked Ivy. “I already have you off, closing.”

“Nope,” said Bella. “Love swing shift, and horses need someone up in the damn morning. But, now Robert and Damia do the morning chores. You can sleep in, love.” She snagged some bread and inhaled it in two bites.

“Hard to sleep in when you’ve been up at dawn since you were six,” said Inola. “I get your point, but I’m a morning person.”

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” said Ivy and Callie. Bella threw a paper straw cover at them. They all laughed.

“We’re not fighting, we’re discussing,” said Bella, primly. “It is what it is. Two women, different schedules.”

Katya said, “My husband is very busy. But, I know it is good for us. I will go back to school online.”

“Whoa,” said Callie. “I’m not going back for a while,” she said. “Will survive getting my master’s, but it’s freaking difficult doing that with twenty-seven kids.”

Inola laughed. “We kind of do. Dog and lots of pretty horses and ponies. And, they’re all dependent on you. I am beyond happy that Damia and Robert are helping out, though. Leaves me a lot more time with our little one.”

“I think I need to exercise more,” said Callie.

“Carrying babies around IS exercise,” said Ivy.

“Lift some weights. If I weren’t worried about Grace deciding she wants to lift, too, I would get them.”

Lily grinned. “Or just lift the babies and wander everywhere.”

“I would drop weights on my foot,” said Bella. “Be a bar back or bartender. That’s a lot of exercise, all of it standing up.” She laughed. “Or, be Ivy. She dances, sings, goes behind the bar, delivers drinks, talks with anyone. I’m surprised you’re not a stick.”

Ivy shook her shoulders, making her breasts jiggle. “No sticks here,” she said.

All the women laughed, making the babies chortle. Ivy sang a very slow version of Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit. They all sang the “hello” line.

“Just work out until you get winded with some YouTube videos. FitnessBlender, Millionaire Hoy. Turn the sound down and blast your music. Get in some butt-jiggling dance moves. I like to salsa.” Ivy held out her arms and jiggled her breasts, making the women double over with laughter.

The babies chortled, sensing merriment, except Aiden, who cried. Ivy took point, took him to the bathroom with a diaper bag, and brought him back, changed and giggling.

They ate their food, passed around babies, danced a little, and went back to Katya’s house. Katya put on baby videos, Ivy put on some rock, and they danced with the babies, which wore them out. The rock was turned down low, and naptime ensued.

Gregory sent over two massage therapists, two manicure artists, and a pedicure specialist with a soak tub. Two Wolfpack came for when the babies woke up, and kept the women in drinks while they cleaned. The babies woke up, one or two at a time, and they all rotated the babies. The video went back on, the babies stared at each other and played with their toys, and everyone got their rotation. They fed the babies, and Ivy ordered a delivery of crab-stuffed ravioli, pesto pizza, and stuffed mushrooms. They ate like pigs, and Katya broke out the wine. Callie and Ivy went giggling into the night.

Mimi arrived at the Big House just after the dishes were put in the dishwasher, a stick-thin woman with her daughter in her arms. David paid the Uber driver. Henry took the girl, put her in a high chair, and fed her fruit and Cheerios. April came over, and they talked as David got her some biscuits, chicken, and carrots in brown sugar. The woman ate as if she’d never eaten food before. The little girl was asleep almost as soon as she’d eaten.

David ran up and brought down some of Ryder’s clothes, because all of her clothes were dirty —and an all-night diaper. He put the clothes in the wash, but threw away some threadbare things. They had almost nothing. He felt no guilt as he raided Ryder’s things; her grandfathers were always buying her clothes and toys. David sang over the girl, and Mimi started shaking.

Henry knelt in front of her. “What is wrong, little bird? You are safe now.”

“We got treated like dirt,” said Mimi, through her tears. “Just lost the cashier job. Was home too many days when I couldn’t get my mom to help. She’s a drunk. I caught her hitting Ree, and I remembered April sent me two bus tickets. I hid them from my mom. She went through my stuff for money, stole my diaper money, more than once. I found them, caught a ride, came here. Told the guy when I got to the terminal I needed an Uber, and I’d pay when we got there. The Uber guy didn’t want to take me, but then I said ‘Nighthawks,’ and he said his brother was one, and no problem.” She sobbed on each word, tears falling at the same time the words fell out of her mouth. “April says you have lots of jobs, more than you know what to do with, and that I… could… stay…” She melted into a puddle of tears. April held her, and Henry held them both. Then, he rose on creaking knees, and brought over tissues and wet wipes.

Gregory stood in the doorway. “She can stay with us if you’re out of room in Casa Wolf. Have someone pick her up in the mornings and take her to work. Katya would love having another girl, and Elena would love a little sister.”

“You… you don’t have to ask… your wife?” asked Mimi. She blew her nose noisily, and then took a wet wipe to her face.

“She’d kill me for not offering,” said Gregory. “You see, she was in the same boat. I met her the night her ex-husband decided to throw acid on his little girl’s face. That girl is my Elena.”

Mimi stared at him. “That’s horrible,” she said.

“Took a long time for her to trust me enough to marry me. Now Katya’s my wife, Elena’s gone through lots of surgeries and is doing great, and we have two little boys a bit younger than yours, Ivan and Luka. You can leave Ree with us.” He snorted laughter. “Since one of the Wolfpack’s jobs is cleaning my house and watching my children, you may end up just staying home a lot.”

“Then it’s settled,” said April. “And I’ll ask to be on the shift that comes to the house. I was on with Nantan, picking lots of lettuce and strawberries, and Katya and Alo’s beets. Katya eats borscht and Alo makes the beets into horse food.”

Mimi looked stunned. “You’re a farmer?”

“Hydroponics. Food grown in water, really just a spray of nutrients and water. They grow huge.”

Nantan stood next to Gregory. “I’ll take you off the rotation for a week, give Mimi here time to get settled. Then, you get rotated back. You have a college class in hydroponics to finish.”

“Yes, Nantan,” said April. “Mimi, this is Nantan. He does the food; his husband Chayton does the schooling.”

Henry stood, then stretched. “I think I’ve got another tablet…”

“I’ll get it,” said Nantan.

“But, no studying for a while. You’re exhausted, and you and Ree need time to feel safe. Are you over sixteen?” asked Henry.

“Just turned seventeen,” said Mimi.

“I’ll call the res, get you either emancipated, or have someone have your mother sign guardianship papers. We do it all the time. All four of Nantan and Chayton’s boys ended up here, that way. Two of the boys see their mama a lot; they took on adopting them, so they could be responsible for their education. Long story.” He rubbed his eyes. “And nothing to do with you. Sorry, you’re exhausted and I’m talking off my head.”

“I’ll stand for her,” said Gregory. “Anytime, anywhere. Anyone strong enough to trust her friend’s word that she would get the help she needed, and cross state lines with a little girl, deserves my trust.”

Mimi smiled through her tears. “I’ll get our things.”

“No, we need a car seat for Ree,” said Gregory.

“We have an extra,” said Henry. “Let me put it in your company car.”

He got it from the garage, and hauled it to Gregory’s car. They installed it, then brought out the now-clean clothes, new toys, clothes, and diapers stuffed into a brand-new diaper bag. Then, they brought out the sleeping Ree. Mimi got in the passenger side.

“I’m sorry,” said Gregory. “I should have let you shower first. You can do that when you get in. We have a room that’s an office, and another that’s a guest room. You’re taking the guest room with Dee.” He slapped his forehead. “A crib.” He stopped, and jumped out.

Henry came out to stop him, and both men laughed. “Got a little bed, was going to be for Ryder. We’ll order another one,” said Henry.

“Keep track of all the stuff we’ve ripped off from you,” said Gregory, as they maneuvered the small frame into the back of the SUV, then the frame.

“Shut up,” said Henry. “You…”

“No, you shut up, old man,” said Gregory, shutting the top. “It will be a little while until the Harley school runs in the black. Take my money, and use it to add another class or something.”

“You, Sir, are an asshole,” said Henry.

Gregory laughed. “I know.” They clasped arms, and Gregory drove off.

The party was winding down when they arrived, the nail people and massage therapists were long gone. Inola and Bella were packing up a sleeping Ryder when they drove up.

“Gregory!” said Inola, her voice quiet so as to not wake up Ryder. She ran over to hug him. Bella grunted. “Just got in the damn thing, and now porko pregnant girl has to hop out.”

Gregory laughed, held up his hand, and went over to hug Bella. “You’re not porko, you’re beautiful.”

Mimi slipped out of the car. “Who’s this?” said Inola. She took in the girl’s long black hair, now matted with sweat and road dust, her aquiline features, her tiny waist. “Who’s been starving you, girl?” she asked. She looked in the back of the SUV, and saw little Ree, asleep. “She’s lovely. Yours?”

“Yours is pretty, too,” said Mimi. “I’m Mimi, and this is Ree.”

Inola said, “I’m Inola, and this is Bella.” She went over and held Mimi in her arms, and Mimi burst into tears, again.

Katya came out. “Gregory, love, why does this poor girl weep in our driveway?” She looked at the back of the car. “We have more babies?”

“Ree is Mimi’s baby,” said Gregory, opening the car door and carefully taking the sleeping girl out of the car seat. He stood up, careful not to hit his head. He shut the car door. “Running out of room at Casa Henry and David.”

Gregory popped the trunk latch. Inola extricated herself from the crying Mimi, and looked in the trunk. “Looks like Henry’s been looting the store. Love, please stay in the car with ours. I’ll help get the stuff for this one.”

“More time for me to catch up on my beauty sleep,” said Bella.

Inola took out the frame, then the mattress. She carried in the frame while Katya held open the door. She returned, grabbed the mattress, slid the fat diaper bag over her shoulder, and followed Gregory in the door. “Where do you want it? The guest room, yes?”

“Yes,” said Katya and Gregory, simultaneously. She carried the things there, dropped them, and went back for the bed frame. “There,” said Katya, pointing toward the corner. “I will get sheets.”

They had the bed set up in a jiffy. Gregory lowered the little girl onto the bed, while Katya fussed over Mimi. “Mimi, you go shower. Use my bathroom, big shower. You are too tired to take hot bath, you will drown. I will make you tea with sugar, and you will sleep. Da?”

“Yes,” said Mimi, satisfied by the pregnant Russian woman’s words.

Katya went to the hall closet, and gave her some small and large fluffy mauve towels. “Here, the pink ones are yours, no? Now, go, shower. No little girl want a smelly mama.” Mimi meekly went.

Inola put a stuffed bear in the little girl’s arms. Ree held it in her sleep. Inola put her hand over her mouth to stifle the tears. She pulled the sheet over the little dirty feet, and knew that a bath would be on Katya’s agenda the first thing in the morning. She tiptoed out.

Katya was making tea. Gregory leaned on the breakfast bar, a cola in hand. “What’s the story?” asked Inola.

“Seventeen, got knocked up, daddy vamoosed according to her friend, April.”

“Wolf Pack April. Getting the picture now.” Inola accepted a bottled water from Katya.

“Mimi’s mother is a drunk, and hit Ree,” said Gregory.

Inola and Katya both clenched their teeth. Gregory took an involuntary step back. He could see that the girl wasn’t going back to the res, ever.

“She stay here, she safe. We will help,” said Katya. “Woman comes around for them, I hit her with spoon.”

Inola nodded. “She shows up, I’ll come after her with more than that.” Katya nodded in agreement. “I can see why she’s here. We’ve got teens everywhere, having trouble getting them transitioned into apartments. And, this one shouldn’t be on her own.”

“Fatten her up, teach her many things,” said Katya.

“Nantan’s got April on rotation, coming here. Oh, forgot the tablet.” Gregory stood, and went out to retrieve it from the SUV.

“You’ve got a good man there,” said Inola.

“He is best man.” She grinned fiercely. “Bring me home presents.”

Inola grinned back. “Better take my cranky wife home. She’s dead tired, and so’s Ryder.” They hugged. “Super love you,” she said.

Katya grinned back. “The same. Now, go. We are all up early, no?”

Inola said, “Horses wait for no one.” She waved, hugged Gregory as he came in, and was gone.

“Where is our daughter?” asked Katya.

“Hu, Grace, and Elena were in a tent of blankets, reading together, last I saw them,” said Gregory.

“Good. I have time with the new ones.” She kissed him, deeply. He groaned, stepped into her, the baby bump between them.

“You’re the best woman in the world,” said Gregory. “You’re not angry?”

Katya shook her head, kissed him again. “Elena and I were like that, for a long time,” said Katya. “We will help her.” She pushed him. “Now, go make bed ready for me. I will give girl tea, and…”

They heard a thump. Katya moved fast for a pregnant woman. Gregory moved past her, checking on the child, while Katya checked on Mimi. Mimi was in the towel, leaned back against the shower door, crying. Katya turned off the water, silently dried her sopping-wet hair, and blow-dried it. She dried the girl, put lotion on her chapped hands, elbows, and feet, had Gregory get her a pair of grey yoga pants and a pink tee, and put her into bed. She sang a Russian tune for only a moment before the young woman was asleep.

Katya took a nightlight out of the drawer, and plugged it into the wall in the room. The little purple mermaid gave off a cheerful glow. She shut the door most of the way, checked on the boys, who were asleep, arms thrown everywhere, and, still humming the song, went to bed.

Gregory was in bed, in shorts and no shirt, with muscles rippling across his stomach, reading a tablet, when she came in. “She okay?”

Katya shut the door behind herself. “Terrified,” said Katya. “We are protection people. Is good she is here.”

“This is more than the drunk mom. Who’s the father?”

“I have idea, but you will not like it.”

“Spill, wife, love of my life.”

“Drunk people like her, they have boyfriends, to keep them in vodka. These boyfriends are not so nice.”

Gregory’s face turned hard. “If that’s true, I will find this person and remove him from the planet.”

“Later,” said Katya. “Now, you give me what I want.”

She took the tablet out of his hands, turned off his light, and stroked her hand down him, from his throat to his groin, following with kisses. He groaned. She dug her fingers into his shorts, and reached down low, cupping his balls. He groaned again. She pulled off his shorts, one-handed, and he laid back as she nibbled, licked, and kissed him, starting in between his legs and going up to the tip of his penis. She sucked each ball individually, then returned to lick and stroke him. She waited until he was as hard as could be, then laid on her side next to him.

He rolled over, kissed his way down her neck, and lavished each breast with attention. They were large with her pregnancy, and she had only just stopped breast-feeding the boys because of their sharp little teeth. He licked and kissed his way down. He slid one finger, then two, inside her, and she rode his fingers, then impatiently shoved his hand away. She rolled him over, and slid on top of him. She took her time, stopping and starting, until he was ready to beg her to finish. They came together, and she dragged both of them into the shower. They showered quickly, so exhausted they could barely stand up. Gregory blow-dried his wife’s hair, covered her with lotion, and took her back into the bedroom. They both donned shorts and tops, and fell asleep as soon as Gregory spooned in behind his wife, holding her in his arms all night long.

If you woke up today, you’re not dead. Some days, that’s good enough.”