Free Better to Die a Hero by Michael Van Dagger Page B

up to the curb, leaned out, and looked to the left then to the right. No limousine in sight. She stepped back and cinched her coat; the temperature was dropping. She hoped that it wouldn’t be too much longer. She’d have preferred being picked up on the street she worked. This wasn’t the kind of neighborhood for her type of business. The men that dropped her off never once cautioned her that the situation called for discretion.
    Discretion was the word most commonly used when an interested party arranged a date for a celebrity or a politician. It meant they were looking for a girl that could keep a secret and they never used the word or any similar word. Although Amber had accepted a few assignments that called for discretion, the john never turned out to be a famous celebrity or politician. He always turned out to be some no-name executive with an exaggerated sense of importance. No scandal rag was going to pay for a story about some CEO spending an hour with a hooker.
    Now a high-profile personality, that was different. If the john was a celebrity, it meant a large tip to keep the secret. And if this guy didn’t tip big, well they didn’t use the word discretion. A story without pictures wouldn’t be worth much. Maybe she’d manipulate a second date, a date that could be caught on film. That meant real money.
    The limo pulled up. She had been so busy thinking about the money, the car caught her by surprise. Amber stepped up and the driver got out and walked to the back. This was promising. Everything about the driver, his haircut, his suit and the way he walked, said professional. This was not a rented limo; the passenger had money.
    Amber smiled at the driver as he opened the door for her. A real professional all right, his gaze never left her face. She slipped past him and entered the vehicle gracefully. She was a professional too and she knew how to get into a limo. She leaned in excessively to give the passenger a good view of her cleavage, and then as she sat down adjusted her skirt to show off her legs.
    She shook out her hair, looked across at her customer, and gave him a small smile. There would be no pictures and no secrets told. The men who arranged the date didn’t have to use the word discretion or any similar words. Even with the lights off, Amber recognized the crime boss; he was bigger in person. She knew what was good for her and she knew when to keep her mouth shut.
    “Would you like some wine?” Savini asked.
    “Yes, thank you.” She watched him pull the bottle from the ice bucket. The sight of his fingers disturbed her. They were longer than a normal person’s fingers and his nails were shaped like a weapon. She didn’t remember seeing that detail on the television.
    “Here you go,” he said, handing her the glass.
    She took the wine from his deformed fingers and felt sick. Everyone knew the man was an albino, it was common knowledge, but the news never mentioned his hands. Maybe they had and she just missed it.
    Amber took a sip of wine and studied the man’s round face. Savini placed his hand over his chin and moved his jaw back and forth. His jaw popped and crackled and he pulled his chin downward. His face elongated exposing a gaping mouth full of sharp teeth. She was positive no one had mentioned that.
     
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    “Anyway, I’m thinking we need to keep working on our costumes. Make them impervious to blood.” Steve looked to Nora hoping for constructive feedback.
    “I really don't see us hitting anyone,” she said. “Maybe you can hit them in the stomach and then we'll call the police. I don't think there's going to be any blood.”
    Bryan yelled from behind the bathroom door. “She hasn't read many comic books, has she?”
    “Actually,” Steve said, “I could soften my fighting techniques, make them less lethal. I’ll switch to a soft kung-fu style called Angry Orangutan.”
    “I’ve heard of kung-fu styles White Crane, Tiger,