** ** **
Ezekiel Beshara stepped off the bus into the insignificant little town and a dozen more people followed. He ignored them as he retrieved his duffle bag and moved away from the bus to check out his surroundings. He'd followed his quarry to the little backwater, step by painstaking step. Revenge had come so close he could taste it in the air. All he had to do was put everything into play.
First things first. Find work and a base from which to study his prey. A quick glance revealed a small diner with a sign proclaiming computers and high speed internet service available for customers. Just what he needed. He crossed the street diagonally, speeding to a jog for the last few feet for an oncoming pickup truck.
The diner's arrangement for the computers left much to be desired with the machines lining a counter along one wall, screens fully visible to the room at large. No doubt a deterrent against teens visiting pornographic sites. The owner deserved public recognition for civic responsibility.
He ordered a large breakfast with the pragmatism of a man who has no idea when his next meal will turn up, and ate quickly. Finished, he moved to a computer, selecting the second from the door, a little uncomfortable with exposing his back to the room. Fingers flying over the keyboard, he rapidly went through several pages, clearing the machine's memory after every few clicks.
A light flowery scent invaded his senses as a young woman sat at the computer next to him. He stifled the urge to cough and clear the cloying odor from his throat. A quick glance in her direction confirmed his initial impression. Slim and brunette, her snug jeans served only as an exhibition prop to display her ass and legs. Her shirt, made of some soft and clingy fabric, revealed a hint of cleavage and clung to her breasts in a way that made a man's hands absolutely ache to hold and take their measure.
Thankfully, not this man. Ezekiel was tempted by very few things and that wasn’t one. He clenched his fists for a moment, then resolutely returned his attention to his task. Allowing the American slut to sidetrack him would derail his whole mission, and the woman sitting beside him was the quintessential American slut. With a practiced determination, he erased her presence from his awareness, something he’d learned to master since his earliest days as Askazura's apprentice.
Back then, when he was seven years old, it had been a candy bar, unwrapped and ready to eat. And any boy who allowed the candy bar to distract him from memorizing an assigned passage from Sun Tzu's "The Art Of War" would receive a flogging and ten days on punishment duty.
Ezekiel paused the memory when it reached the one that held the single instance when he’d suffered punishment. He cleared his throat with a vigorous cough, but it wasn’t to clean his air of that woman’s scent, but to gain more oxygen for his suddenly claustrophobic lungs. Fifteen days with your head covered in a sack had that effect on you. For Ezekiel, having his mouth or face touched were two things he couldn’t tolerate. He’d fought the phobia for years before resigning to owning it.
The one thing that punishment had gained him was the ability to master the skill of focus. Distractions like Miss America on his right were as tempting as a camel’s ass.
He scanned the help-wanted ads listed on the local paper's site. Restaurant help. Factory worker. An assortment of other jobs with specific requirements that he didn't have, or didn't bring him in proximity to his enemy. Truck driver for the local feed store. Ranch hand.
He quickly consulted his map of local properties. The ranch bordered the one he needed access to. Perfect. With a few keystrokes, he had directions to the place.
Finally. After eight months, revenge was eminent. He would have the blood of the man who had pinned him with the blame for a botched illegal arms deal. The man had set every extremist group on Ezekiel's trail. Not something he appreciated since his very birth put him in the center of religious conflict.
He stood to leave.
"Um, excuse me?"
Great. The American whore of course would have the nerve to speak to him and force civility.
Ezekiel managed to stop and glare at her.
Of course she didn't get the message. Her blue eyes just closed in a slow blink and she smiled. "Sorry to bother you, but I'm new here. Do you happen to know where the C-Bar ranch is? I'd rather not drive all over Montana searching for it."
Ezekiel started to growl some nasty reply and stalk off then her words sank in. She was going to the same place he needed to go. And it sounded as if she had her own car. Hitching a ride with her would save him a long cold hike through some nasty snow drifts. Okay then. He forced a somewhat friendly grin to his mouth. "I'm headed there too. Trade directions for a ride?"
A shadow of wariness passed through her eyes and she tilted her head a little as if gauging the danger.