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I spoke up. “Yeah, you should see the ride we had to take on our last mission. We entered into this warehouse stuffed in cargo containers in the back of a moving van.”
“Trust me,” Hud said. “The last thing you want is to be crammed into a tiny container with this prick.” He put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a shove.
“You serious? I thought we were pretty good container mates.”
“Might not have been so bad if I didn’t have to smell your disgusting Dorito breath the entire time. I swear, for a Russkie you sure like the worst American snacks.”
“Hey, Americans might have their faults, but there’s nothing like the refreshing taste of Cool Ranch Doritos. And besides, you had some pretty bad breath of your own. How many of those nasty Irn-Brus did you drink before the mission?”
“Enough to make me need to piss like a Highland pony five minutes into the job. And speaking of Irn-Bru…” He reached into his rucksack which was tucked into the ample space underneath the driver’s seat. After a little rummaging around he yanked out a huge blue and orange can. “Sure could go for one right about now.”
He cracked it open and took a long sip, drops of it on his beard when he pulled the can away.
“That’s the stuff.” He reached around toward Victoria, offering it to her. “Want a sip, lass? Good shite— they call it the other national drink of Scotland, the first being the hard and brown.”
Victoria regarded the can with a look of disgust.
“I’ll pass.”
Hud shrugged. “Suit yourself. And now that I think about it, if we’re going to be holed up in this chalet for the next few weeks, we’re going to need to stock up on all kinds of beverages. I’m thinking I ought to speak to your da about getting a little airlift.” He laughed.
I turned back to Victoria. “I’m Ivan, again by the way. But all the guys just call me Kid.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Does that mean you’re immature?”
“Now, lass, that’s no way to be,” Hud took up for me. We’re all going to be together for some time. I get that you’re upset about this little situation you’ve found yourself in, but that’s no excuse to be rude.”
She sighed, her expression softening as if she’d realized she was taking the attitude too far.
“Fine. I suppose I should know your names if I need your help with anything. But make no mistake— this doesn’t mean we’re going to be friends. If this whole matter goes the way I want it to, I’ll be in my room most of the time and we’ll say a total of fifty words to one another.”
“Aw, you’re breaking my heart, princess,” Ajax said, looking back. “You mean we’re not going to have sleepovers in each other’s room, staying up late painting our toenails and gossiping about boys?” He laughed, Hud and I joining in.
“You’re a jerk!” she exclaimed. “I’m trying to be magnanimous, and all you can do is be sarcastic?”
“She’s right,” Pyke said. “We’re all going to need to call a little bit of a truce if this mission’s going to work. Princess Victoria, I’m Kallen Prince. But you can call me Pyke.”
“Isn’t that perfect?” Hud asked. “We’ve got a princessanda Prince.”
More laughs from the rest of the guys.
“Anyway,” Hud said. “I’m Hudson Gregoire. Call me Hud.”
“Alexander Brown, but these assholes just call me Ajax. Don’t ask why.”
Victoria nodded as if the business had concluded. “Fine. Good to know all of your names. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She put her headphones back on and that was the end of the conversation.
I turned my attention outside of the window to the sweeping Alpine vista beyond and settled in for the ride.
5
PYKE
Iwas on my second round of driving, taking us in the last hour to the chalet.
God was I already sick of Victoria.
It’d been one thing after another with her, complaining about the food and the bumpiness and the weather and the security measures we had to take before stopping anywhere, even for a bathroom break.
