Tales of Fortune: For Violent Fires That Soon Burn Out

FOR VIOLENT FIRES THAT SOON BURN OUT

  A TALES OF FORTUNE adventure, featuring Tracy Scott

  by Derrick Ferguson

  Published by Pro Se Press

  Part of the SINGLE SHOTS SIGNATURE line

  This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters in this publication are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. No part or whole of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing of the publisher.

  For Violent Fires That Soon Burn Out

  Copyright © 2015 Derrick Ferguson

  All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents

  1.

  2.

  3.

  4.

  1.

  It hadn’t taken long at all for The Heart of Fortune to become a renowned entertainment as well as tourist attraction in Sovereign City. Visitors to the city were urged that they should partake of the activities provided aboard the huge ship which was virtually a floating hotel, nightclub/restaurant, and casino. In the three months since Fortune McCall had brought his ship to Sovereign City he had earned a reputation for running an honest ship with honest gambling, terrific food, no watered down booze, and one of the world’s best orchestras playing for him. Fortune McCall himself impressed all he met as being clearly a man of breeding, class, respectability, and honor who took pride in his ship and the reputation preceding him. Long before he had come to Sovereign City his name had been connected to many adventures both strange and exotic.

  Sovereign City had become hailed and renowned from coast to coast as being a bright and shining jewel of the American spirit. It prided itself on being a progressive city of the future, leading the way in engineering, science, finance, art, culture, and industry. But for all that, Sovereign City’s level of crime and corruption was startling. In addition, a new breed of criminal plagued Sovereign City, criminals that used technology in new and innovative ways to carry out their schemes.

  Sovereign City boasted among the citizenry a number of individuals with extraordinary skills, talents, and abilities. Those names were already legendary in Sovereign City and much of the country as well. Doc Daye. Lazarus Gray. Machine McQueen. ‘Rocket’ Mann. Aura O’Neill. The Scarf. Captain John Lawman. And now, Fortune McCall counted his name among theirs. In return for a privileged status bestowed upon him by Mayor Byles, Fortune and his loyal associates volunteered their time and talents to investigating and solving crimes that for one reason or another Mayor Byles did not want handled by the police. So far, the arrangement worked out just fine for all parties involved.

  The Heart of Fortune rested at anchor three miles from the shores of Sovereign City. A remarkable ship from the outside and even more impressive on the inside. Within the bowels of the ship there were hidden decks and rooms not found on any plans for the vessel anywhere in the world and were known only to Fortune McCall, his associates, and select members of the crew.

  One of these rooms presently rang with the sounds of combat. Regina Mallory stepped into the room her friend Tracy Scott referred to as her krithey yistham. When asked for a translation Tracy’s reply was “The loose translation is: The Room Where People Get Beat Up A Lot.”

  Right now it looked like Tracy was beating up on three men. And doing an excellent job of it. They were Otwani, of course. Most of Fortune’s crew were Otwani. Their tribe inhabited the ruthlessly brutal desert known as The Devil’s Anvil located in the North African country of Khusra. They were also the most fearsome warriors Regina had ever seen. These three men were dressed only in loincloths, their hands and feet wrapped, their oil dark skins glistening with the sweat of their exertions as they attempted to pin down the fiendishly fierce pixie that kept their attacks at bay with seemingly little effort at all. Tracy Scott stood five feet five inches tall in her bare feet and her three attackers towered over her since all of them were easy six footers. But she moved in and out between the men with the swiftness and surety of a lynx, the battle staves in her hands blocking and returning blows. Tracy seemed to have a mercurial ability to get inside, get close, and deliver devastating blows with her feet and the staves. She’d had those sticks ever since she was a child and they were hard as iron. The effect of her strikes on her attackers could be seen on their faces as all three men tried to hold back pained expressions.

  Tracy dived, rolled, came up on her feet, backing up, her teeth bared in a feral snarl. Seeing her like this, Regina always felt a twinge of wonder, fear and even a bit of jealousy. She had never known anybody who could fight as well as Tracy could. The scary part was how much Tracy seemed to enjoy it.

  Tracy saw Regina standing by the door and threw her an inquiring look that Regina returned with a hand signal pointing upwards, indicating that Fortune McCall wanted to see her. Tracy nodded. She immediately went on the offensive, the sticks in her hand a blur as they struck shins, elbows, knees. Tracy well knew the pressure points and nerve clusters to strike to put a man down.

  Tracy stood over her downed opponents, grinning. The Otwani warriors lay on the polished hardwood floor, their legs refusing to work. “Don’t worry,” Tracy said. “You’ll be able to move in about a minute or so. Just lie there and breathe. Good workout today. My thanks.” Holding her sticks in one hand, Tracy walked over to where Regina stood. “And what does my esteemed cousin want with me now?”

  “I have no idea.” Regina took a terrycloth robe from a hook and held it out for Tracy to take. “Could you put this on, please?”

  Tracy took the robe and wrapped her naked body in it. “How come you haven’t come by for a sparring session lately?”

  “Because unlike you, I prefer to wear clothes when engaged in exercise. I have never seen the point in working out with no clothes on.”

  Tracy grinned. “What can I tell you? I like sparring in the nude. Besides, it distracts my opponents.”

  “You know what Stephen says. That your fighting in the nude is some kind of sexual stimulation. I didn’t get the whole thing but apparently violence and sex are linked together quite closely in your psyche.”

  “You tell Stephen to stay away from my psyche and keep his opinions about my sexual stimulation to himself. Better yet, I’ll tell him.”

  “Ouch. Should I tell Fortune you’ll be along?”

  “Soon as I’ve showered and made myself appropriately beautiful.”