Bound

Victor "Gunny" Galindez scuffed his Harley Davidson boots toghether. He was more comfortable in his Wolverines he wore hiking or even his Marine combat boots, but this was an undercover assignment, so it was the Harley Davidson boots. He was even more uncomfortable in the tight black jeans that were still riding up on him ,kbut he tried not to show it. The filmy material of his black shirt clung to his abs and the ensemble was completed "Neo" Matrix-style sunglasses. GUnny took a deep breath and opened the glass door, entering the Rocking Horse Bar. The last time he had been remotely near a gay bar was when that incident with Tiner and his brother occured. He shoot his head remembering that mess. But now, here he was. There had been a string of murders and the one thing the victims had in common was they had been seen here the same night. The first three victims had been civilians, but the last one was a Navy man, visiting his brother on leave. It reminded Gunny of Tiner's situation, and the thought that it could have been him continued to haunt Gunny. The main suspect was also someone in the Navy, according the the profiler.

Now GUnny walked in, and he was surprised to see a familiar face at a back corner booth. "Hello, Victor," Clayton Webb greeted Gunny as the Marine approached him.

"Are you here with somebody?" GUnny asked as he slid into the booth.

"Why, would that bother you?" Webb motioned to the bartender for two drinks.

"I'm here aren't I?" Gunny replied

"On a case." It wasn't a question

How do you know?

"One of the men killed was CIA. I'm here unofficially. It's personal."

Just then the bartender motioned that the drinks were ready. Webb got up and returnedc with two decanters of scotch.

They discussed the case. Each victim had rope marks indicating they had been bound. According to Webb, one man was suspected, a Petty Officer Conrad Bloome. After a while they noticed a man watching them. "That's Bloome," Webb said.

Gunny moved to get up. "Keep it cool Galindez," Webb put his hand over top of Gunny's. He smiled. "Let's have a lover's quarrel."

"Then I storm out?" GUnny caught on. "I get to be the bait."

"I'll be right behind you," Webb said.

They whispered a little longer about their plan, then Webb rose his voice.

"What do you mean you won't go with me?"

"I mean I won't. I'm not interested in going to Boston with you."

"You know you want me," Webb sneered. "Bad."

"Forget it. I'm leaving."

Gunny stormed out of the bar. He felt it as the assilant approached him from behind. He felt it as the chloroformed rag covered his face. He even felt it as he faded out of consciouness, but he had to play this out.

"What the fuck?" Gunny opened his eyes. He tried to assess the situation. He was tied to a metal folding chair. His shoulders were pressed up against another pair of shoulders. He suspected the worst. "Webb?"

"What." It was Webb.

"I thought I was the bait."

"And I thought Bloome worked alone. Mistakenly."

"Fuck," Gunny reitterated.

Bloome picked that time to enter the room. "You thought you had me, hmmm? As it turns out, we have you." Another man entered the room. "And we will have some fun with you before you die."

At that moment, Webb surprised everybody but Gunny, that is, he surprised that two bastards that did this to him, by getting up from his seat and pinning Bloome to the wall, holding his Swiss Army knife to his throat. Gunny incapicated the other assailant. "The Boy Scouts taught us to always be prepared," Gunny smiled.

"We knew there were two of you all along," Webb smiled.

"Nice Job, Victor," Webb shook Gunny's hand. "And you, Mr. Webb."

"Clay."

"Clay."

END