"Oh," Gabriel says indifferently, losing interest, and walks over to a metal table with various explosive devices lying on top.

"So, what's the job?" Porky is leaning against a long desk with various computer monitors and equipment hovering above. Wearing red basketball shorts and a white hoodie, he looks sloppy, but his hazel eyes are gleaming in antic.i.p.ation.

Brent fills him in, "There are five targets, a gang of sorts, who specialize in illegally shipping guns made by Lead Dynamics to terrorists in the Middle East."

"Lead Dynamics in Oakville? What are they shipping out, the Lead T3 MK6 Series weapons?" Porky questions us, excitement written on his boyish face.

"Yes and yes," I answer, surprised he doesn't already know. Simon must have another one of the geeks gathering us information for this a.s.signment. "They all live and work out of a large house on the beach down the coast from Sydney. Unfortunately, from what Simon says, they're a suspicious bunch and only deal with people they already know." I smile ruefully and add, "Only date women they already know."

"So, you're going in blind?" Porky asks in disbelief.

I shrug one shoulder, unconcerned with the situation. "It can't be avoided sometimes."

Porky lets out a big breath before speaking, "Well, I have everything you need. If one of you will help me, the rest can go relax in my game room."

Brent and I decide to a.s.sist Porky since this is technically our a.s.signment. Jackson and Gabriel go out to play in the game room.

I chuckle to myself, thinking about how they're spending quality time together.

Chapter 30.

Gabriel "I hardly ever play video games anymore," I inform Jackson.

"Whatever, kid. Make all the excuses you want, but I'm still beating you," Jackson says with a c.o.c.ky grin, killing my character again on the video game. "Booya!" he shouts and jumps to his feet to point a finger at me. "In your face, boy toy!"

Really, who even says 'booya' anymore? Dorks like Jackson, that's who. I toss my controller onto the cushion next to me. "Whatever, I'm tired of this game. And you've obviously played it many times before."

He looks at me in fake innocence. "Dude, this is my first time playing it too. I can't help it that I have a gift."

Mumbling some curses, I get up and walk away. "Whatever, I'm going to go see what's taking them so long." When I go into the 'weapons room', I see that Anna, Porky and Brent have been playing some games of their own. Alternative rap music has been blaring from there almost since I left the room.

"Again!" Brent orders a moment before Anna shoots him in the chest with the paintball gun.

He grunts, but manages to stagger back only one step before regaining his footing. If what Porky was saying earlier is true, Brent is going to be sporting some bruises. He's wearing a clear plastic disposable raincoat with neon pain splattered on it.

"Aim for the face," I suggest, just trying to be helpful.

Anna turns her head to look back at me with a smile. "Miss me, baby?"

I give her a sour look. "Your brother cheats at video games."

She laughs while placing the paintball gun on a nearby table and walking all s.e.xy-like over to me. "Aw poor baby. Did Jackson beat you?"

"I'd like to beat him," I mumble loudly. When she leans up to kiss me, all negative thoughts fly out of my head. d.a.m.n, I wish I had her alone right now. Unfortunately, the only places around here involving privacy also involve rust and caked dirt.

Pulling away from the kiss, I sigh woefully. From the look in her eyes, I can tell she knows exactly what I'm thinking. "Tonight," she whispers meaningfully. I can't wait.

I hear the sound of a zipper closing and look over to see Porky hauling two jumbo-sized duffel bags over to us. Brent, who's stripped off the raincoat, grabs one from him as he pa.s.ses by. When Porky reaches us, I grab the other one from him before Anna can.

She huffs in exasperation, "I can carry that."

Ignoring her, I ask Porky while using my free hand to point to a table against the far wall, "What's up with the lab equipment?" On the table is an array of science equipment. Sitting on it is a microscope, beakers, test tubes with tubing and even a stack of Petri dishes.

He smiles while shrugging. "It looks cool, huh?"

I give him a skeptical look. "But, what's it for? Do you make your own explosives?"

"No way, man, that'd be too much work. I have a wholesaler. I just think all that equipment looks cool, like I'm a mad scientist or something. Makes me look smart," Porky answers.

Anna laughs at him. "But you are smart."

He shakes his head. "You just don't get it."

Brent slaps him on the back. "Don't worry, buddy, I get it. Now what kind of food do you have around here?"

Porky grins, grabbing a wallet from his computer desk. "I know of a really great place on the way back to Sydney, my treat."

Guy is probably starved for the company of other people. From what I understand, he spends most of his time in places like this, alone and hibernating. We agree to take him up on his offer, all sensing that the guy needs interaction with the outside world.

About an hour and a half later, as we follow Porky's vehicle into a restaurant parking lot, I ask Anna, "Where the freak is he taking us?"

Following Porky in his burgundy SUV here was a lot more comfortable than the ride to Newcastle earlier today. Brent rode with Porky in his vehicle, so I got the whole backseat of this compact car from h.e.l.l to myself. The sign a mile or so back said that we're in Gosford, New South Wales. This city isn't too far from Sydney.

The restaurant that we're parking in front of is not exactly what I had in mind when Porky suggested dinner. The sign in front of the place says the name 'Romp and Stomp' in bright colors and there's a green dinosaur cartoon character next to the 'p' in 'Stomp'. This can't be right, he can't seriously mean for us to eat at this kiddie restaurant.

We park in the back of the parking lot next to Porky and climb out of the car. Jackson beats me to it, asking Porky, "You can't seriously mean this place?"

"They have video games," Porky says in an enticing voice to Jackson.

"Hey, I don't care what they have," Brent says, "I'm starving. No one told me it was going to take so long to get here." Rubbing his hands together in antic.i.p.ation, he announces, "Let's eat!"

Anna b.u.mps her upper arm against mine. "Come on, baby. I'll win you a stuffed animal or something."

"I want a squirt gun," I joke with her.

"Okay babe, but if there's a pink one, Jackson gets it," she says loudly enough for him to hear. Without turning around, Jackson gives her the finger over his shoulder.

Upon entering the place, I imagine that adding fire and brimstone would make this place my own personal h.e.l.l. There are kids screaming in both delight and tantrum, running around like maniacs and just acting all-around chaotic. d.a.m.n, I was in the mood for steak or ribs.

The scrawny teenage boy at the front door, wearing a red polo and baseball cap, asks if we have any kids with us. I guess so they can stamp our hands to prevent child abduction, like they do at Chuck E. Cheese's back home. I grab Jackson's wrist and hold his hand out for a stamp. He rolls his eyes, jerking his hand away and says his usual, "Ha, ha, ha." The teenager laughs and opens the velvet rope to let us in. No wonder Porky suckered us into coming here with him. Coming by himself would make him look like a pedophile.

We order our food at the front cash register, with all of us getting the salad bar and two large pizzas to share. I ask the girl who takes our order if they serve beer and she suggests root beer. Yeah, a steak and beer would have been nice after all that time cooped up in the car today. We find a booth at the back of the restaurant, Porky insists, and from the way he's eyeing the front of the restaurant where there's a wall full of windows, I'm wondering if he's waiting for us to get attacked or something.

Porky "Pssts!" at Jackson and asks in a quiet tone, "Did you see anyone following us?"

Jackson raises his eyebrows and asks in a teasing voice, "Like who? Your homicidal girlfriend?"

Porky shifts uncomfortably on the royal blue vinyl bench seat. "I've been in Australia for several months. I'm surprised she hasn't found me yet."

Brent shrugs and says through a mouthful of salad, "Maybe Diana didn't think you were worth it. Last I heard she was undercover in Spain."

I feed Anna a crouton and she gives me a smile. A moment later, Brent holds up a crouton for her to eat too. I stab at his hand with my fork and he yelps out in pain. A little kid walking by stops at the edge of our table and asks Brent, "Why are you crying?"

Jackson starts laughing. "Yeah, Brent, why are you crying?"

Brent scowls and gestures towards me. "See this ugly guy right here?"

The boy looks confused for a minute, but then confirms, "Uh-huh."

"Well, he stabbed me with a fork," Brent says in an offended tone.

The kid looks at me curiously. "Why'd you do that?"

Anna laughs from the right of me. I smoothly tell the kid, "He wanted to steal my favorite toy." Anna pinches my leg under the table and I hear her grumble something incoherently under her breath. The kid glances back to Brent, then shrugs and walks away. Okay, guess he lost interest in us.

Shortly after finishing our salads, the pizza arrives and we dig in. Not steak, but Porky was right, the pizza is kicka.s.s. I shake parmesan onto three slices, devouring them within ten minutes. Stuffed, we decide to try out some of the games. Anna and I wander around hand in hand until she gets obsessed with some racing game. Bored after watching her play ten times, I wander off on my own, finding an old school Pac-Man game. Jeez, we could have ordered pizza and done this at Porky's s.h.i.thole.

When I find Anna again she's still playing the same racing game, but instead of playing the game system, she's now playing against a redheaded little girl who's probably around ten years old. The race ends and Anna kicks the machine. Turning to the girl with one hand on her hip, she demands, "I want a rematch."

The girl has a smug look on her face and shrugs two little shoulders. "Okay lady, if you want to embarra.s.s yourself again, but I've already beat you five times."

Standing behind them, I have to m.u.f.fle my laughter with my hand when the girl beats Anna a sixth time. When Anna starts to argue with the girl, I wrap my arm around her waist from behind and drag her away. "What are you doing, Gabriel?"

"Preventing a disaster," I tell her and kiss her on the neck. "Her parents are going to have you arrested if you keep it up," I tease her.

"I almost beat her that last time!" she exclaims and makes a move to walk back over to the now laughing little girl. Oh, the little girl just had to go there. Now she's pointing too.

"I thought we could play some skeeball together," I attempt to distract her.

Grudgingly she says, "I'm pretty good at that. I always beat Jackson." With renewed determination, she lets me lead her to the skeeball lanes.

After a couple games, in which I make sure Anna scores higher than me, I notice Brent not too far away, letting kids throw plastic b.a.l.l.s at him in a huge ball pit. He scrambles out of the pit and I smirk when a kid whacks him in the back of the head with a green ball.

Brent saunters over to us and I don't like the calculating look in his eyes. "Gotta love kids, they're always ready to throw down." He nudges Anna suggestively. "What do you say, Annabelle? Wanna breed with me?"

Laughing humorlessly, I punch him in the shoulder, hard, in a mock-friendly gesture. "Oh Brent, you're such a joker."

"What?" he asks innocently. "I was being totally serious."

"Back off," I warn him with a glare. It doesn't matter what kind of skills this jerk supposedly possesses, he needs to quit hitting on my girl.

"So anyways," Brent begins in a lazy tone, "I heard Annabelle put a bullet in your dad's head."

Instant rage hits me and as Annabelle shouts out, "No Gabriel!" Too late, I'm already ramming my body into Brent's, pushing him back several yards. Unfortunately, his fall is cushioned by the multicolored ball pit. Kids scream and dash out of the way. As soon as we land, I pull my fist back and connect with his cheek, getting s.a.d.i.s.tic satisfaction from the small cut along his cheekbone.

Before I realize it, he has me on my back and is pounding on my chest as I sink into the b.a.l.l.s. Over his shoulder I see Annabelle trying to yank him off me. All around the ball pit parents are gathering children with expressions of horror on their faces. I reach up and yank on Brent's messy hair. Pulling him down next to me by the hair, I turn onto my side to punch him in the gut. Plastic b.a.l.l.s get in the way of my fist, cushioning the blow. Annabelle finally wraps her arms around Brent's neck and pulls him away from me.

There's an overweight man in a 'Romp and Stomp' red polo shirt huffing and yelling at us to leave the restaurant. Jackson's a.s.suring him that we're leaving. Dragging myself to my feet in the ball pit, I grab onto the padded ledge and hop out.

We're out of there two minutes later, with the young punk manning the velvet rope glaring at us as we exit the building. Porky is sullen in the parking lot. "You guys better not have gotten me kicked out for life."

Annabelle goes over to hug him, but I'm not jealous. Porky just isn't the kind of guy you get jealous of, too boyish. She asks him, "Are you coming back with us to Sydney?"

"Naw." He lightly shakes his head. "Maybe I'll join you in a few days after you're done with the contract." He suddenly brightens up, saying, "There's this really great restaurant you'd love in Sydney!"

"Uh, sure," I tell him distractedly. "We'll see you then." I'm still p.i.s.sed off about Brent's comment regarding me and Annabelle's past. Everything was going so well, but now I feel tense, anxious and angry.

Saying our goodbyes to Porky, we climb into our car as he gets into his SUV. Probably feeling the need to separate us, Annabelle climbs in back with me while Brent sits up front with Jackson. She sits close to me, not that she has much of a choice back here. I can feel her watching me but I don't glance her way. I'm too upset right now.

Annabelle and I have been through a lot and we don't need reminders of everything bad that's happened between us. I'm guessing it was Jackson who told Brent about Annabelle killing my dad. Thanks a lot stupid f.u.c.ker.

Porky is in his vehicle in front of us, turning to go north on the highway back to Newcastle, when we see a small figure pop up from the backseat of his SUV and climb over the middle seats.

"Oh s.h.i.t!" Jackson calls out.

"That looks like Diana!" Brent chuckles in amus.e.m.e.nt.

Annabelle turns her attention to the back of the vehicle in front of us. "Should we help him?"

Jackson's laughing, shaking his head. "Nah. Let those two lovebirds work it out themselves."

As we take the turn to go south, back to Sydney, Annabelle leans her head against my shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Tensing up again, I lie, "I'm fine."

"Still love me?" she whispers so Jackson and Brent can't hear.

I turn my face, push back a strand of blonde hair and kiss her forehead, whispering back, "Always."

Chapter 31.

Annabelle "Here's the dealio, s.e.xy boyfriend. Since you insist on coming along, you'll be up on the hill above the house with me," I inform Gabriel matter-of-factly, giving him an unhappy frown. "I'd really rather you stay with the car."

He scowls at me playfully with his beautiful green eyes narrowed. "I'm not a little kid, Anna. Plus, I know how to handle a weapon and defend myself if need be."

I let out an exasperated breath. "I know you're not a kid, Gabriel, but you're also not trained for something like this. Some time spent at a shooting range and a dojo doesn't make you an a.s.sa.s.sin."