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   Chapter 44 No.44

Free-Wrench By Joseph R. Lallo Characters: 5342

Updated: 2018-01-19 12:02

"Have you been the one telling the fug folk about us?"

Wink's head and ears drooped. Tap.

"You little piece of filth!"

"It makes perfect sense. The fug folk require all airships to have one, and since they are inspectors, they get free run of the ship, " Nita said.

The captain was still preoccupied with the revelation. "I saved your life! They were going to give you the knife. You are a member of my crew."

The little beast was the picture of shame. Tap.

"Look at me. Look at me!"

Wink reluctantly faced him.

"You will never, never report on this ship again. Understand?"


"And will you report on us again?"

Tap, tap.

"I ain't through with you, but I've got other things need discussing. You get back there and sit down!"

Wink obeyed, climbing up to the hammock and continuing to wear the most heart-wrenchingly forlorn face Nita had ever seen.

"I think—" Nita began, but the captain's eyes were distant.

It was clear that the revelation of how he'd been watched had brought with it a flood of opportunities to his mind. In short order, he seemed to come to a decision.

"You would do anything to get them drugs for your mother?"


"And you're serious about making things square with us for what you done?"

"I am."

"Well… what I got in mind ain't quite enough to make us square. You'd still have a punishment coming, but if this is going to work I'd need you working pretty near nonstop for the next few days. Tell me, you want a bit of payback against them fuggers?"

She flashed a devilish smile. "I do."

He leaned down and p

lawless scoundrel and the chance to both redeem herself in their eyes and gain what she'd traded so much of her innocence to attain. It was a question that warranted hours of contemplation, days even. Instead, her answer came with the next breath.

"When do we start?"

He smiled and held up his glass. She clinked hers to it and both drank. The victorious moment was spoiled somewhat by her sudden and violent coughing fit. He laughed.

"This stuff is really something, huh? My brother makes it. Got a bit of a broken-glass front end. Maybe a poison-ivy finish?" He grimaced a bit and puffed on his cigar. "I used to have a bit of a drinking problem. That's when my brother gave me this stuff. It was so awful I couldn't stand a second swallow. I figured stocking nothing but a few bottles of this was a good way to avoid pickling myself. I do still soak my cigars in black-cherry brandy though. What can I say? A man needs a vice. Now go. Gather the crew. We'll figure out what needs to be done." He turned to his hammock. "I'll have a word with the spy."

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