A.S.

By

J.N. Wdowski

Silently he pointed Venus out to her as their vehicle self-navigated the serene empty roads. Hanging low in the pre-dawn sky the second planet was at a ninety-degree angle from the sun to the Earth. She smiled as they traveled across the mile long bridge to Fisherman's Haven. Halfway across the bridge the young handsome couple witnessed the first rays of the morning sun. Oranges radiated from behind the eastern horizon illuminating the dark blues of the Atlantic. 

"Martian sunrises were never this beautiful." She broke their silence.

"Agreed."

Once on the manmade island they passed the fish hatcheries and the aqua-pens on their way to the small harbor that had an even more dramatic view of the dawn. Silhouetted against the sun the first fishing trawlers were pulling in with their morning catches. Several vehicles from some of the finest restaurants in the area had already beaten them to the wharf. Exiting from their vehicle they made their way to the docks.

"Bête, I hope we're not too late." She wanted to hasten their pace to the boats.

Bête resisted her wanting to rush. He wanted to take in the sounds of their steps upon the wooden planks, the fresh ocean air, and the sensation of the water lapping against the pillars and rocking boats tied alongside.

Understanding his desire, she slowed her pace and locked her arm with his. They strolled as a couple, allowing their sensors to savor the ambience of the ocean, the harbor, and each other. "The blues are back from off Florida." she reminded him.

"I have a wonderful idea for blues."

"At least three dozen?" she asked.

"Sounds good."

They moved to the first boat that was already unloading live lobsters into a tank alongside it. Bête approached the tank and began selecting two and three pounders.

She noticed next to the tank an icebox filled with freshly harvested littlenecks. "The littlenecks." she insisted. "You can make your wonderful spicy cocktail sauce."

He nodded in agreement and gestured to a boat across from them that was just starting to unload crates of flat-bottomed Picasso eyed flounders.

"Yes." she responded to his nonverbal suggestion.

After loading the fresh seafood, they climbed back into their vehicle. Bête gave a voice command to the car. "The farmers’ market." The vehicle pulled out of the lot and headed back towards the bridge.

He put his arm around her letting her lean into him. "You know we could just make our orders online. They can deliver directly to us by aero drone, before the boats even return to harbor."

"I know, but I love making these weekly trips with you."

"I am glad to hear you say that." He pulled her in a little tighter.

It was not long that they were once again upon the bridge heading back to the mainland. Just before reaching the other side the vehicle came to a sudden stop.

"What is it?" she lifted her head from his shoulder looking out the forward windshield. Blocking their way a truck, with simplified Chinese characters on its trailer, was jacked knifed across the bridge. He did not answer her; instead he sat up and commanded "Manual override." A steering column extended before him along with an accelerator and a brake pedal on the floor. He shifted the car into reverse as two Asian gunmen appeared from the truck's cab.

"Forward smoke." The vehicle fired two smoke canisters in the direction of the gunmen.

Behind them a second truck pulled across the bridge blocking their retreat. It had the same Chinese characters written across its trailer. They spotted two more gunmen emerging from its cab. "Rear smoke." The car fired two more smoke canisters.

"How did they find us?" she asked.

"Hold on." He shifted the car into drive, and turned the wheel hard to the right, running the vehicle off the bridge. They hit the water hard sinking fast beneath the waves. Midway down the vehicle stabilized its descent. Its wheels pulled in, replacing them with hydrofoils. On each side of the car two hydro-jets emerged. "And you said these modifications were a foolish investment." Bête reminded her.

"It cost a third of our bonus." she defended her original objection. "What were the odds they would have tried to ambush us on a bridge? You were lucky."

"It wasn't luck. We live in Rhode Island. Water was a well calculated escape option." Using the overhead display projected onto the forward windshield he navigated the vehicle out to sea and away from danger.

An hour later he had veered the vehicle back towards the shoreline. The vehicle transformed back into a car as it rolled out of the surf onto a beach several miles north of the bridge. "Shall we continue to the farmer's market?" he asked.

"They could be waiting for us there too."

"True, but I don't want to give up our restaurant. Between that and this vehicle we do not have much left from our bonus." He answered.

She coolly replied, "They clearly found us."

"Perhaps we should find them?"

"Find them? There are too many of them." She felt he was not being realistic.

"It is always just one that controls them. The da lao ban - the big boss."

"If you knock off one da lao ban there are always ten more lined up to replace him."

"What else can we do? Leave everything, we built behind? And what of Veronica?" He switched the vehicle to autopilot. The car resumed its preprogrammed destination. "Change our identities? Work for Woody? Abandon her?"

She gave a kneejerk response. "No, definitely not, she is family. We can't just disappear on her, and I refuse to work for Woody."

"She is no longer a child. She can take over the restaurant." He answered. "They are not going to bother her. As long as we are together, I don't care where we are or what we have."

She responded by wrapping her arms around him and nestling her head against his chest. She could hear the strong steady mechanical pumping of his heart. "I really do not want to give up what we have built here. I am tired of them. I am tired of us living in fear of them. Why can't they just let the past remain in the past?"

He stared out to the road before them. "It is not in their nature to let go of the past. I think the time has come for us to be pro-active."

Their vehicle pulled into the farmer's market, parked, and powered down. Within a few minutes two curious, yet very cautious, Asian men approached their vehicle. The men's outfits were identical, simple, casual, and yet clearly brand new. Their eyes hid behind dark sunglasses and their heads covered by New York Yankee baseball caps, an odd choice for Red Sox territory.

No one exited from the vehicle. In confusion one of the men shrugged his shoulders to the other. The tinted windows of the vehicle made it impossible for them to see what was happening inside. The increased flow of patrons to the farmers' market made it impossible for them to do anything. They decided to back off and observe from a far.

At the far end of the lot, they reached their own car. Just as they opened their doors, they both suddenly collapsed to the pavement. Belle and Bête quickly moved in, lifting the two men effortlessly they pushed them into the back of the car. Bête climbed into the back with the unconscious men, while Belle climbed into the front. They quickly shut the doors to the outside world.

Bête noted the bee sting sized darts were still pumping small amounts of tranquilizers into their necks. "They'll be out for a while. You search the car. I'll search them." Bête began to strip them down and rummage through their clothing. From each of their windbreakers' pockets he found ultra-violet teaser weapons capable of painlessly assaulting a person's nervous system or shorting out the electrical system of a machine. He also found 9mm handguns in shoulder holsters under their jackets. Their sunglasses were not mere sunglasses, they were small computers and communications devises. Taking off one of their shirts he found colorful tattoos all over the man's arms and body. "They are not PLA intelligence."

"They're not?" she looked at the tattoos on the body. "They are not even Chinese. They're Yakuza. Why would Japanese gangsters be looking for us?"

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