"You are the one they call "Anti-Hero," are you not?" The orc's gaze was steady on my eyes, searching for any sign of dishonesty. In the dim light of the abandoned house that passed for "the base," his blue eyes were rather captivating--the only thing interesting to look at in my limited field of vision. 

"Well, my name is Hero. And my nieces do call me "Auntie." All 100% true and a complete dodge.

What I couldn't dodge was his slap, which seemed to come out of nowhere and left a sting on my left cheek. It would have knocked me out of the chair I was on if I wasn't tied securely to it. Even then, it almost fell over. I felt something wet on my lips and it tasted salty: he'd split my lip. 

"You will answer my questions, woman, or there will be further pain."

Those eyes weren't interesting anymore. I looked at the ground, avoiding his gaze. "If all you're going to do is torture me, you get no answers at all."

"Fine. We'll torture your friend, then." He jerked his head and the masked bunny started to go to another room. 

"She's a big girl. She can take it," I say, and immediately regret it. Gah! Sometimes, I just need to cut my tongue out before it digs me into deeper holes!

The orc smiled maliciously. "Oh, I hope so, Hero. I sincerely hope so. Because I want to make an example out of you to anyone else that thinks they can steal from my family and get away with it."

I look back at those blue eyes. "Stop. Stop. Why does this have to involve torture? Can't we just talk?" 

The orc frowns, his eyes lingering over my face. "You're serious?"

"Look, you've got my attention, okay? There's no need for violence. I'm not offering any. Just ask your questions and let's get on with our day."

"Let us start again. Are you the one known as Anti-Hero?"

"Yes."

The orc smiles and motions for the bunny to stand down. "And you are a thief of, shall we say, rare items?"

"Among other things, yes."

"So honest. Why have the police not thrown you in jail?"

"They haven't made a jail that can hold me yet." It's true. I've been caught, I've been sentenced, and I've set myself free twice. Technically, I'm on the run from the Empire and Federation. If these guys want to ruin my day, they only have to turn me in. But they won't, because they are criminals, too.

"You seem held now."

"Well, I haven't had any time to work myself free, haven't I?"

The orc laughs. "No, I suppose you haven't. You have spirit, woman. I like that."

"Yeah, yeah, get on with the questions. What's this about?"

"A pair of rifles were stolen from my house here in Northwatch last week. Ancient rifles, from before the crossing, on Ord. Priceless antiques. I'm told that you are the person responsible."

"I don't do 'priceless,'" says I, and it's true. Priceless means there's no profit in it, and no profit means no value to the Aunties. I explain this to him.

"You mean that if you can't sell it, you don't steal it?"

"Correct. And, given that these are a family heirloom, even if I could sell them, I probably wouldn't take them, because the sentimental value outweighs the monetary value."

The man mulled this over. "So there is a kind of honor among thieves."

"I don't speak for the community. Obviously, someone stole them. I can only speak for myself."

"And you don't have any idea who would steal them?"

"I have ideas, but no names or leads. Sorry."

"Would your friend?"

I laugh. "Sasha? I doubt it. She doesn't even approve of my activities."

The man smiled. "You are strange bedfellows."

I wink. "We don't share a bed."

"Oh, you're trying your feminine wiles on me?" he laughs.

I chuckle along. We're just old friends now, right? "Don't flatter yourself. I have expensive tastes."

We both laugh, and the tension in the room decreases. I think I'm about to get out of these bindings, walk away. 

The man sighs. "Well, if you didn't, and you don't know who did, then I'm afraid my part in this investigation is at an end for now. I do not look forward to reporting to my master that I failed. But at least I can report I turned in a wanted criminal. Perhaps there is a bounty out for you?"

This is what I like to call "a dealbreaker moment." I've been to jail--twice--and broken out both times. But I don't fancy going back for a third try. 

"Look, I've been straight with you thus far. Would you agree?"

"Yes," the orc says hesitantly. 

"Well, believe me when I tell you that I don't fancy going to jail."

"That is easy to believe."

"So let's work out a deal. Let me help you get your rifles back and in return, you won't turn me in."

"You are a thief. By definition, I should not trust you."

"Sure, but as stated, I have honor. I have standards. There are things even I wouldn't do. This is one of them. We both want to see justice done here. Let's work together." This is, admittedly, all psychological stuff I've learned from Sasha. It's all the stuff I've learned from Sasha.

"Suppose you fail?"

"Well, I'll already be in your hands, won't I? Look, you hired a security consultant for the rifles already, right?"

"Yes."

"Where do you think they got their knowledge from? It takes a thief to catch a thief--or prepare a theftproof box."

"Suppose I keep your friend as collateral. Then you won't double cross me."

"No good. We need trust in this relationship--I don't even know your name. Holding my friend is only going to distract me as I plan a way to free her."

He frowns and tugs at his sparse beard for a moment. 

"Fine. I'll give you one day. If you find these rifles, I'll let you go. If you don't, I take you in."

"And you'll let Sasha go now?"

"If she is, as you say, useless--"

"I didn't say she was useless," I correct. "I said she frowns on theft. Her skills on the outside might help move the investigation along."

"You think she would help as well?"

"I think if you ask nicely, she will consider not breaking your face."

The man smiled. "I think I'll have you ask her."

"Good thinking."

He produced a knife and cut my bonds. My hands ached with the returning blood flow, pulsing for a few moments as I rubbed them. 

"Okay," I say, "Let's start. First things first: why would someone steal these rifles?"

"Not for money, you say." 

"Well, someone might steal them for money. But they'd be pretty new at the game. You say you had an expert prepare the security, so a novice is unlikely to pull this heist off."

"Okay. so not a novice. Not for money. What's left?"

"Could be someone wanting to make a point about your security. A rival who wants the contract--making the current provider look bad?" 

"Ah, but if they returned the rifles as a sign of good faith, they would surely know that we would deal harshly with them."

"So probably not that. Is there anyone who really, really wants those rifles?"

"My master has two younger brothers who constantly vie for top position within our family. Stealing the rifles might be a way to boost their prestige."

"Okay, they go to the top of my list, then. Why are we not giving them the "bound-to-a-chair" experience?"

The man looked down and it was clear that this hit close to home. "Others are investigating that lead." His tone suggested he was upset about this development.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Soemone else is going to solve this and get the credit, right?"

Those blue eyes were holding back tears. I could feel sympathy tears filling up in my own eyes. Dammit.

"How bad is it?"

"Our master told us that whoever solved this theft would get bumped up a notch in our organization. I knew this was a long shot, but if it were the right angle--I could really use the raise."

"Chasing me means someone else gets the inside track and you're out a life-changing promotion. That's a hard pill to swallow."

"Yeah."

"Okay. Look, I don't even know your name. But I'm going to do this for you because, one, you did catch me, and that's not easy, and two, I want to find out who led you to me because they and I are going to have words, and three, I don't think it's cool to steal family heirlooms, and four, if you are able to catch the thief before the person who is tracking them down does, you're going to owe me."

The man looked up, a small grin of hope on his face. "You...would do that for me?"

"Sure. I've got some free time. Plus, I like a challenge. But time is of the essence. So, if you'll let me loose here, I'll follow you to the scene of the crime. I'll see what happened, how, and we will start catching up on the thief. Seriously, though, what's your name?"

"Alex."

"Alex works. Undo these ropes and let's get going."

"What about your friend?" Alex started undoing the ropes.

"This isn't her scene. Cut her loose and let her go and she'll be fine."

"Perhaps you should talk with her?"

I thought about it. "Yeah, you're right." He led us to a room a down the hall. She was blindfolded, bound, and bleeding from several cuts. Her face was bruised. She was very quiet.

"Sasha?" I called softly.

"Hero?"

I turned to Alex. "What did you do to her?"

He didn't flinch. "She was most...uncooperative."

"No shit. Do you find torture usually works?"

"It has its uses."

I gave him a look. "No. No it does not." I move quickly to Sasha, hug her. She flinches. 

"I'm here, Sasha. I worked it out. We're here to let you loose. They are friends now, right?"

"They hurt me. Did they hurt you?" Her voice was angry.

I massaged my cheek. "Yeah. But we're going to let that go." I took her blindfold off and she could see the print on my cheek. Her eyes were narrow slits, like an angry, feral animal. I could read the bloodlust in them. "Friends, Sasha. Stand down or at ease or whatever."

She blinked and her eyes returned to normal, as did her voice. "We're done here?"

"We're done here, Sasha. You're going home. I'm going to help these guys."

"They beat us, Hero. We can't let that go."

"We will settle those debts another time." I untied her arms, and she flexed, working blood back into her hands. 

"Since when are you the reasonable one, Hero?"

"I'm only being reasonable because this is a professional matter. You know if it weren't, we'd tear these guys apart."

"Damn right."

"Look, time is of the essence. I don't think I'll need you, but if I do, I'll let you know. For now, go home, get patched up, and get ready to move, 'cause we're obviously compromised."

"Another day, another disaster."

"A woman's work is never done." I hugged her and she hugged me back, reminding me that she could crush me like a watermelon.

Alex stepped forward, bowed low to Sasha. "My apologies, Anti-Social. We are most desperate and our desperation made us...foolish. If you will allow my man to escort you, we will be happy to pay for whatever treatment and amenities you require."

In a flash, she grabbed his throat, lifting him to his toes. The masked men around the room pulled their guns on us and I thought that was going to be the end of me. Then Sasha dropped the orc. "Nobody," she hissed through gritted teeth, "nobody hurts my friends without getting hurt in return."

Alex gasped for breath, but waved his men down. "I think we understand each other," he told her, head bowed to the floor.

She looked down at him, around to the masked men, and finally to me. "I'll head back and pack my things. But I'm packing the guns last, just in case."

I bend down to help Alex to his feet. "I hear you. I'll be in touch tonight."

"If you're not," she smiled her winning smile, somewhat lopsided with the damage, "I'll kill everyone here." She strode out the room, followed by one of the masked men, who was trying hard to keep up with her long strides. 

Alex coughed, retched a little, and tried to recover. "She almost crushed my windpipe," he choked out.

I was sympathetic, but not overly so. "She's...protective. That wasn't because of the beating you gave her. That was for leaving a print on my face."

"Shit."

"Believe me, next to her, I'm practically a saint."

"I had no idea."

"No one does, until they do. Now take me to the scene of the crime."