"Sometimes, you have to be subtle," Danny reminded Rowena, then launched a brutal kick that crumpled the door like soggy tissue paper. "Of course, sometimes you don’t have to be subtle."

Rowena smiled and walked past the man. Truth be told, she had sort of a crush on him – and had since the moment they’d met. What was not to like? In every way he was very nearly the perfect human specimen – witty, fit, smart, strong and, oh dear Lord, those eyes! She could swim in them all day long and still never get enough. The best thing about Danny, however, was that he was gorgeous and he either didn’t know it or he didn’t care. He was, and always would be, Wind – the ass-kicking guy she’d met in Tokyo and shared many a tale and triumph.

It was the ass-kicking part she required at the moment, and he put that talent to good use with a lunge punch that floored the dumb mook who'd chosen that moment to walk around the corner and investigate their sudden arrival. The second and third minions followed closely behind, only to stop short as the barrels of Rowena’s twin USPs forced them to a sudden halt.

"Uhh…"

"Wrong answer to the wrong question," Rowena snapped. "You get one try at this. Where’s deFaria?"

"Uhh…"

*BLAM* *CLUNK*

"Shall we go for round two?"

"Upstairs!" Minion #2 stammered over the groans of Minion #1. He studiously tried to ignore the discomfort of the warm stickiness coating the side of his face and the gun imprinting an ‘o’ on his forehead. "He’s with a client."

"Now for the bonus round: how many more of you are upstairs?"

"Uhh…"

*BLAM* *CLUNK*

"Jeebus, Rowena! You’re in a foul mood, today. Who tinkled in your Toastie-o’s this morning?"

"Move!" she said, then she tackled Wind, taking him out of the blast radius of the grenade that just tumbled next to him. There was a loud POP and bright flash, but the two freelancers had already prepared for it, so when the next group came rushing down the stairs, they were staring into the determined eyes of an already aggravated twin-gun enforcer and her concerned martial artist friend.

The results were predictable, if messy.

Dr. deFaria was rather calm for having lost most of his bodyguard, so he calmly finished sewing the wounds on his latest patient. At first glance, one might think they’d be better off suffering from whatever wounds had brought them to this place. Dark stains smeared the walls, floors and the ceiling, and the doctor looked as if he hadn’t bathed or washed his hands in weeks. Still, his hands were steady and sure. "There you go, sir. Good as new – or as good as you can ever claim to be."

"Achilles? Achilles Gauge?" Rowena asked as she spotted the patient.

The man nodded, grimaced, and sat up. "Did you really need to kill all my boys?"

"They should have recognized me. ‘Sides, I didn’t even have to break a sweat to deal with them. Idiots."

"You’ve been hanging around Trinity too long. You’ve got no patience."

"Not anymore. Not with my father mucking around."

"I see. You know, Ro’, he really cares about you. Maybe it’s time for you to drop this and move on to something else."

"…I think it’s time for you to leave, Achilles. Go catch bullets for Hernandez or one of the deLuna clan. deFaria and I have business."

"That’s harsh, Ro’."

"That’s three more seconds than I gave your boys, Gauge."

Achilles eyed her for a microsecond and paused long enough to grab his coat. "Thanks, deFaria. I’ll send you my payment."

"Of course."

Wind stepped aside to allow Achilles to slip by, then he leaned against the doorpost like he owned the place. "I’d suggest you give her whatever she asks for."

Rowena walked over to the instrument tray, laid one of her guns on it, then started checking the other. "My patience is wearing thin, and it took me far too long to find you – mainly thanks to my father’s interference. Now I’m guessing he instructed you not to give me any information. My advice is that you ignore his instructions."

deFaria spread his hands wide in a gesture of surrender. "Ask, and ye shall receive."

"Why were you at mine and my brother’s birth?"

"Ah, the million dollar…mphf!" The good doctor suddenly found it difficult to talk, having suddenly found his mouth filled with oiled composite steel.

Rowena leaned forward. "Stalling is not a good idea."

His eyes flicked to a safe, nearly hidden in a dark corner of the ramshackle room. Wind caught the look, walked over to it, and neatly ripped the door off the hinges. Inside, there was a thin medical record. "What’s this?"

"Mfs tee…" deFaria carefully removed the gun from his mouth. "It’s the rest of the Logan twins’ medical records – the post operative reports, physician’s notes, etcetera."

Rowena holstered the gun, walked over to Wind and took the record. "Interesting…"

"Well? Does this provide you with answers?"

"Some, but…" Rowena pinned deFaria to the wall with a stare. "Please don’t make me kill you. Don’t even think about taking another step towards my gun."

Everyone’s eyes turned to the USP still laying on the bloody instrument tray. Dr. deFaria took a full step backwards. "No thinking whatsoever. Not about the gun, anyway."

"Then tell my why it would be so important that my father keep this information from me and my brother?"

"I’ve no clue – really, I don’t. Your father was kind of an outsider in the Syndicate, and he doesn’t always explain his motives. He’s old school espionage, and most of us aren’t certain why he threw in his lot with us. However, a significant portion of the Syndicate’s gold came from him, or rather, from some operation he was involved in before his Syndicate days."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"I remember that day we performed the operations, and I remember him talking about some gold then. I didn’t think about it at the time, but I’m guessing they’re connected – and significant. Evidently it’s significant enough that he was willing to keep that knowledge from you and from everyone else too."

"Sorry about the mess." Rowena retrieved her gun, replacing it with a wad of cash.

deFaria shrugged. "It’s not like it hasn’t happened before."

Wind and Rowena descended the stairs. "What next?"

"I need to do some research. I know that gold was connected to an occult organization – the Fist of Chango I think it was called. I’ve got to find some of dad’s old friends and find out why that gold is significant, and why it would be important that dad cover up the fact that my brother and I were born without belly buttons."

"Hmm. I know you didn’t ask…"

"…but you’re going to tell me anyway."

"Say what you will about your father, but he has always had his reasons for keeping things secret." She whirled around to face him, ready to strike. "I’m not saying not to pursue this, I’m just saying that you need to be careful about what you tell people."

She paused, considering his advice, then she walked close and gave him a not-quite-just-friends kiss on the cheek. "Thanks."

"You’re welcome."