Dominant Predator (7 page)

I didn’t know why he’d called for me. It was likely to discuss my next orders or to debrief on my shot, but for once I wasn’t sure. Regardless of why he’d called me, there were things I wanted to know. But I’d never been in a position to demand answers from him, and now was no different. I trusted the President, was closer to him than any other person except Armise, but that didn’t make our relationship easy or friendly.

I set my feet, crossed my arms and cracked my neck. The President sat perched on his chair, waiting for me to speak.

“How long did you know about Armise?” I finally asked.

“That’s not what you really want to know.”

I crooked an eyebrow, but didn’t concede that he was correct in his assessment.

“You want to know if it changes anything about how I view you,” the President offered.

I should have hesitated to admit this to him. If it was anybody else I would have. But the President knew me. “And does it?” I ventured.

“No,” he replied simply and with a wave of his hand dismissed the screen from his desktop.

I believed him. The President had never tried to bullshit me and I saw no reason for him to start now. I pulled out the chair and sat down to face him, waiting for him to get to whatever he had called me for.

The President’s chair squeaked in protest at his paunchy frame. “Armise didn’t know who Chen was.”

It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. “Apparently not.”

“He wasn’t acting?” the President probed.

“No,” I said with surety.

The President considered this, then leant forward, steepling his fingers. “You may want to talk to Feliu.”

The States’ doctor? Dr Feliu Casas was the primary physician for the President. The same one who had been at my bedside when I’d emerged from my two-month-long coma after the DCR standoff.

“Why?” I inquired, even though I could assume where this was going.

“He was able to run some tests on Armise through the transport. There were some unusual findings.”

“We already knew he was genetmod,” I replied, acknowledging my long-held belief that Armise had been subjected—either willingly or unwillingly—to the process of taking his base DNA structure and manipulating it to enhance his strengths.

“True,” the President admitted. “But we didn’t know the extent.”

“And?” I pressed.

“It’s extensive.”

I whistled under my breath and sat back in my chair. Fuck. There was no way I would have known for sure without the scan through our transport into the bunker. Armise had never admitted to being genetmod. He might not have even known how significant the changes were that the government had forced upon him. But it would explain his cold skin. That his core temperature seemed to be degrees lower than should be viable for human survival.

That wasn’t my greatest concern, though.

“Can they track him?” I asked.

The President nodded. “Probably.”

“Then why risk bringing him here?”

“Besides that he’s the reason you’re here?” he said wryly, alluding to the fact that Armise was the only reason I’d made it out of that stadium alive. “Doesn’t matter if they can. None of us can really hide anymore.”

I mirrored the President’s posture, leaning forward in my chair. “Can I be sure?” I looked away, at the cross supposedly claiming my right as a son of a god I didn’t believe in. “Can I be sure of him?” I clarified, knowing that the President would know of whom I spoke. “After the last twenty-four hours…”

The President nodded solemnly. “You should be asking that. Short answer is that none of us can know for sure. Especially if you—the man who is sleeping with him—are unsure. My personal opinion, however, after twelve years of contact with him, is that you can.”

“You’re the only one who’s not shunning him. Do you trust him?”

The President shrugged, a casual gesture that few outside of his inner circle would even know he was capable of. “I trust him as much as I do Neveed.”

“And me?”

The President shook his head and said with conviction, “There’s no one I trust as much as you.”

That the President’s wife had once held that position was left unsaid. Sarai had been dead for well over a decade now. I knew the man in front of me still mourned her, though. And that avenging her violent passing was one of the President’s greatest motivations.

“The destruction of the stadium wasn’t staged?”

“Merq,” he chided me.

“Don’t even try, sir. It wouldn’t be the first time you manufactured a mass genocide.”

“Even I can’t make it appear as if hundreds of thousands of citizens have been slaughtered and still keep them alive.”

“I’m going to kill Ahriman for this.”

“I know you will.”

“What do you expect from Armise? From me?”

“Once you get your parents back, I’m going to need you to hunt all the Committee members down. All twelve of them and Ahriman. No survivors. The Opposition needs to be scattered. You will have your opportunity for vengeance.”

“Rules?” There were treaties. Rules of war that had existed—if rarely followed—during active fighting of the Borders War. Chemsense had been banned centuries ago but was still used. Reverbs held the same distinction. I had to know if I was constrained by any of those legal limitations.

“None,” the President confirmed. “I don’t assume that will be a problem for Armise either.”

I crooked an eyebrow. “You’re making him a Peacemaker?”

“That distinction no longer exists. You both are Revolutionaries now. The Continental States exist only in name. I know Armise is used to working solo, but this will require the two of you to partner up, as it were. I need Simion and Jegs focused on other projects. Whether that means you actually hunt together or not will be your choice. I need them all dead. And we’re talking within months, not years.”

“When can I go after Ahriman?”

“I’ll leave that to you. He can be first, last… I don’t care either way. But you cannot allow your fury to cloud when and how it happens. Your orders are to wipe them all out as quickly as possible. I know you, Merq. You have singular focus and eliminating Ahriman is a mission you cannot afford to get bogged down in. If you and Armise are able to develop a plan that attacks all of them simultaneously then do it. Ahriman’s death can’t be your only goal.”

I had the overwhelming urge to tell the President to fuck off. Which meant that he was probably right. I frowned to show my displeasure but didn’t comment on his orders. “Who’s his second-in-command?” I asked instead.

“Chen is working on that.”

“How do we not know?”

“We’re unclear on the exact power structure and how the Committee members and leaders within the Singaporean government fit into it, if at all.”

“Which is why you need the clean slate.”

“One reason, yes.”

“I’m reporting to Neveed again?”

“You answer to me. His role as your handler has concluded.”

At the very least that was one fewer complication in my life.

“When do you move?” I asked, remembering his intent to get to the front lines as soon as possible.

“A day or two. No more than that. Neveed will take up my residence in the capital at that point.” The President tapped his fingers on the desk. “What’s your end game, Merq?”

I huffed. “You ask that when I expected to die.”

“And I know you already have it figured out.”

“There is a…complication I’m in the process of integrating into my plans.”

“Mm-hmm,” the President muttered. “What is he to you?”

“I can’t answer that,” I replied honestly.

“You’re so sure of yourself, Merq. And one man?
This
one man has the power to make you question your objectives.”

I bit down on the piercing in my lip. “I don’t pretend to understand it.”

“And I don’t have the power to change it,” he said with finality.

I narrowed my eyes and sat back in the chair.

“He’s a gift, isn’t he?” I said, awareness dawning.

“Don’t be simple. That is perilously close to the flesh trade. That would be rather crass of me and quite inhuman.”

“Of which you are neither,” I said with a smile, and added, “sir.”

The President laughed. “There are many who would beg to differ.”

“And what is your end game, sir?”

“The same as it’s always been. The balance of power returning to the people. Revolution is about life and unity. The value of the individual and the power of the collective. I’ve been a part of the wrong side of the movement for too many years now. It’s going to be difficult to convince the citizenry that the vast majority of my actions were manufactured. The people have something to fight for, but we have to give them a compelling enough reason to lay down their lives—to threaten the peace of their homes and families once again—for that cause. ”

I scoffed. What was it with existential diatribes today on fighting? First Armise and now the President. Their apparent need to convince me of the rightness of our course of action was unnecessary and bordering on insulting. Especially when I knew that both of them held ulterior motives that stained the supposed purity of their intentions. I scrubbed my hands through my hair and tried not to roll my eyes in response. “Fuck. Not you, too.”

“I suppose this distance you view the world with can be soundly laid at my feet and your upbringing. I wasn’t wrong for setting you on this course, but that doesn’t mean I was completely right either.” The President waved his hands in the air as if he was gathering his thoughts. “You must be wondering why I led you to believe you were on that mission solo and would likely be killed when you assassinated the Premiere. Why I kept Armise’s status guarded for as long as I did, especially when there is little that has ever been hidden between us. I personally would want to know.”

I was surprised that he had decided to even broach this topic with me. “Does the truth of his involvement really matter?”

“I can’t possibly answer that for you.”

“I don’t want to know. Rather, I don’t need to know. You had your reasons and, more importantly, it’s done.”

“It’s that easy for you?”

“Guess it is, sir.”

“I’ve known you nearly your entire life, Merq. Are you ever going to call me Wensen?”

I frowned. “No.”

“You’re my soldier, Merq, but I’ve come to think of you as more than that. I’d tell you that you are the son I never had, but I’m not in the mood to be laughed at. I have faith in you and your abilities. The Revolution is stronger because you are a part of it. And I have no doubt that every one of those Committee members’ death dates is imminent. Ahriman’s as well. I expect them all to suffer horribly, in recompense for every life taken tonight. You’ve always been effective. Detached but thorough. Armise brings a fire to you. I like the change.”

At least one of us does
, I thought.

“He complicates my work,” I clarified for him.

“And clouds your head. I sympathise. Sarai did the same for me. At the same time, she was the only person in the world who could cut right through it all. To know what I needed when I didn’t. Sarai’s protection of me was metaphorical, emotional more than physical, but real nonetheless. Armise will do for you as Sarai did for me
and
he will aid you in remaining breathing. Don’t discount the value of that type of partnership. Now, we need to talk about your parents.”

My gut twisted at the abrupt change in conversation. “I’d rather talk about Armise.”

“They don’t deserve this callous dismissal.”

“Yet they don’t deserve my loyalty or life either.”

The corner of the President’s lip tipped into a smile. “But I do.”

I chuckled. “When do you want me to move on them?”

“Do you even know what day today is?”

“Again I ask, does it matter?”

“Just an observation.” The President swooped his hand in an upwards motion, making his screen active again. “You move when I move. Exley is going to take you and Armise into the camps to scout the area in the morning—which, by the way, is in six hours. Impossible to tell time in this blackened hellhole. Have I told you how much I detest this bunker? Regardless, you and Armise will gather intel about the area where your parents are being held. But you don’t move on any rescue until I’ve relocated. We have the jacquerie’s support for now, so let’s use that advantage. Chen has tracked the signature of your parents’ chips to an Opposition encampment on the outskirts of the capital, at the edges of the jacquerie camp. But I’m dubious to the reason why they remain in our territory at all. And there is a reason for it. Of that I have no doubt.”

“Any intel on who’s holding them?”

“Besides that they’re Opposition? No.”

“Where are you headed?” I prodded, knowing this would be my best opportunity to get information from him.

“The front lines in the DCR. Fighting is heaviest there, so I need to be on the ground.”

“You need to not be killed,” I insisted.

“We all die someday,” he replied flippantly.

“By all means, sir. Your death will serve the Revolution well,” I replied sarcastically. “Why am I even waiting for you to leave then?”

“Because I have a strong suspicion that Ahriman is using your parents as live bait.”

“Tracking them to your location.”

“Exactly. I won’t remain hidden, but I won’t allow my enemies to knock on my front door either. Despite what you think, and what I say in jest, I have no intention of dying. I have responsibilities to fulfil. A Revolution to oversee, and perhaps see to its end.”

“God willing,” I sneered, showing just how much faith I had in any higher power being the one to save our asses.

“God willing, indeed,” the President replied with sincerity. “Neveed will remain in the bunker until you’ve brought them in. Then they’re to travel with him to my residence in the capital.”

“They won’t be expected to fight?”

“It’s time we brought them back as faces for the Revolution. We will be exploiting your father’s familial connection to the inventor of the sonicbullet. Their value is in front of the camera. Your career in broadcast ends here. As soon as you deliver them back here you and Armise are to start hunting the Committee members.”