The Bridge Chronicles Trilogy Read Free Page A

of business from people who don’t threaten me. Maybe I should go take care of some of it.” Bridge was genuinely ready to walk away, if for no other reason than to see how far they’d go to get him back. If he pushed it, if they really tried to play the hardass, he might even be able to get a few extra points out of the deal. Bridge started to stand, and Archer almost knocked the table over to keep him from leaving. Aristotle had tired of the game and leaned over the back of their booth, exposing his tree-trunk thick biceps to full view. Archer thought better of actually touching Bridge once he saw the dark form of the bodyguard hovering over the transaction.
    “Sal, shut the fuck up, dude. I got this. It’s cool, man. It’s all good. We’re all friends here.” Archer couldn’t take his eyes off the bodyguard’s arms.

    Bridge sat back down, his smile oozing smug triumph. “If the dick-measuring contest is quite through with, let’s get down to business.” He pulled a bizchip from his pocket and laid it in the exact center of the table. “Payment received, so we’re all set on my end. You put your thumb on this chip and Cramer will contact you shortly to set up fulfillment. I never see the stuff, and I never met you. You can back out now, and I’ll refund half the fee and we never met.” Bridge had to give them the out, give them the opportunity to tamp down their worst desires. He was always surprised when someone took that opportunity, mostly because it was such a rare occurrence. Despite the profit, he was always a little disappointed when a deal went through. But the more jobs he did, the more he saw that the people who sought him couldn’t help themselves, no matter how self-destructive their requests were, no matter how far down the path to self-immolation they already were. His clients either couldn’t help themselves or didn’t want to.
    Archer giggled with depraved glee and jammed his thumb down onto the card. It flashed twice. Bridge picked it up and tossed it into the sparkling clean ashtray where it smoked and shriveled before catching fire and dissolving into a fine pile of ash. “Enjoy your party, boys,” Bridge said and waved them off. They left with hardy back slaps and effervescent excitement.
    Despite the fee, Bridge was going to make nothing on this job. He had traded his entire fee to Cramer for a special request of his own. Bridge knew that his reputation required that he get his fratboys exactly what they wanted no matter how sleazy it made him feel. But their attitude towards him demanded attention. There was no reason to be so dickish in business. He could have gotten them anything they wanted and looked the other way without blinking, but they had to play the alpha male. Spoiled rich kids with nothing to lose because their daddy’s money would always backstop any bad behavior really pissed him off. So he asked Cramer to work a little extra magic on his client’s order of Sluv.
    The drugs would work, of course. They could dissolve it in a chick’s drink, or place the paper-thin tabs on the girl’s skin. Within minutes, the victim would be completely suggestible, a fully conscious robot awaiting whatever depraved instructions the boys could dream up. The men would touch the tabs since Sluv were normally designed to only work on female body chemistry. Unfortunately for Archer and his would-be rapists, Bridge had asked Cramer to spike the dose.
    The rapists would get their victims, but they’d be completely impotent for the entire duration. Whether the male touched the tab to administer the drug, or touched the victim’s skin after it took effect, there was a second nano component that turned a male’s equipment into a flaccid noodle.
    Bridge was taking a chance, of course. The disappointed customers might try to blame Bridge, but to do that, they’d have to admit they couldn’t close the deal. Bridge was betting on the fragile ego of the alpha male. If there was one thing