Mass Effect: The Complete Novels 4-Book Bundle (95 page)

“He was killed in a gentleman’s club called Chora’s Den.”

“I know the place,” Anderson admitted sheepishly. “It’s pretty rough.”

Kahlee wrinkled her nose. “Men.”

Varma smiled. “According to members of the club’s staff McCann entered by himself, took a booth, and made use of the gambling terminal located there. Eventually he got up to visit the men’s room. According to video captured by one of the bar’s surveillance cameras, another human was already in there. For reasons we aren’t sure of they got into a fight and McCann was killed. A janitor found his body sitting on a toilet hours later. The killer was long gone by then.”

“So it could have been a random bar fight
or
a hit,” Anderson mused.

“Exactly,” Varma agreed. “Although I’d put my money on the second possibility given McCann’s past.”

Khalee frowned. “You think Cerebus was responsible?”

“I think that’s a workable hypothesis,” Varma agreed cautiously. “And one that is supported by the fact that once the killer left Chora’s Den he did an excellent job of avoiding our cameras. The sort of thing one would expect from a professional.”

The professional that Varma was referring to was nearby, sitting in his apartment, and watching as Anderson, Kahlee, and Varma discussed the way he had murdered Hal McCann. The hit hadn’t been as clean as he would have preferred, but dead is dead, and McCann was extremely dead.

Ideally he would have followed up the McCann sanction by killing the girl named Gillian. But based on what he’d heard, the teenager had dropped out of sight. However, there was something he could do
while waiting for Gillian to make an appearance, and that was to steal Grayson’s body. Something the Illusive Man had been very insistent about. It wouldn’t be easy however. Not according to the research he had carried out over the last day or so. Because the corpse was stored in C-Sec’s Forensic Lab. A facility located underneath the Presidium and protected by a state-of-the-art security system.

Though less than perfect his right leg was better thanks to a liberal application of medi-gel and some rest. So having set the surveillance system to “record” and taken on a new disguise, Leng placed a brand-new camera into a small bag and set out for an address on the blue ward. There was plenty of time—and the fake sunlight felt good.

Wilbur Obey was a man of many habits. He always got up at six thirty and was at work by eight, so he could leave at five. Then came a stop at one of three restaurants for some takeout to carry home.

Someone else might have found such a routine to be stultifying, but Obey treasured it. Because unlike the rest of the things that occurred on the Citadel, he could control it. Obey took great comfort from organizing his day and keeping his studio apartment just so, with a place for everything and everything in its place.

So as he left Suki’s wrap shop and made his way home, he was looking forward to a couple of days in splendid isolation. There were chores to do, a virtual pet to play with, and some favorite holo shows to watch. The doors to Obey’s building parted to welcome him into an undecorated lobby. A short flight of
stairs took him down to a landing and the door to his apartment.

Obey entered the pass code, waited for the barrier to slide out of the way, and stepped inside. It was dark and he was about to say, “Lights on,” when he heard the swish of fabric. Obey had just started to turn toward the sound when the needle entered his neck and he felt a sudden stab of pain. Suddenly he was falling, but completely conscious and able to understand what was said to him, as he hit the floor. “This won’t take long,” a voice said conversationally.

“First, I’m going to tape your eyes open. Then I’ll take pictures of your retinas with a special camera. That’s a bother of course, but absolutely necessary because once they’re removed from a body, retinas begin to deteriorate very quickly.”

Obey tried to object, tried to struggle, but his body was paralyzed. Meanwhile his eyelids had been pulled back and secured in place. Obey knew his assailant was male from the sound of his voice, but couldn’t see anything more than a shadowy presence bending over him, as some sort of device was pressed against his face. “It’s a camera,” the voice explained, as a series of flashes strobed Obey’s eyes.

“There,” the man said. “That should do it. I have what I need. Sorry about this, but we’re fighting a war, and that means casualties.” Obey was still thinking about that, still trying to make sense of it, when Leng cut his throat.

Leng liked to work by himself to the extent that such a thing was possible. But there were times when it was necessary to hire help. And the mission to recover
Grayson’s body was such an occasion. Not because Leng needed assistance to penetrate C-Sec’s Forensic Lab. He could accomplish that by himself. No, the problem was that Grayson’s corpse and the gas-filled chamber in which the remains were stored would be too heavy for one person to manage alone.

But where to find the kind of people he was looking for? A place like Chora’s Den would have been ideal, but he couldn’t go back there, so Leng chose to cruise some of the bars adjacent to Spaceport 5. The dives located around the inner ring were packed with all manner of spacers, mercenaries, and small-time crooks. Just the sort of people he was looking for.

Having ducked in and out of a mostly empty bar, and a place that catered to asari, Leng entered the Free Fall Club. It catered to a diverse mix of patrons including humans, salarians, turians, batarians, and a volus or two. And judging from the wary looks that were directed his way, plenty of deals were being done around the room.

A layer of blue smoke hung just below the ceiling, salarian techno music thumped in the background, and a zero-gee slam ball game could be seen on the wall screens. A cheer went up as the team from the red ward scored on their opponents.

Leng looked around, spotted a recently vacated table, and went to claim it. There were no stools. Just pole-mounted circular tables that could be raised or lowered according to need. Leng hadn’t been there for more than a minute when a scantily clad asari arrived to take his order. “I’d like a Honzo,” the operative said, “and a favor as well. The kind that could earn you a generous tip.”

“We aren’t allowed to have sex with customers,” she replied.

Leng grinned understandingly. “No, I’m talking about a different kind of favor. I need to hire a couple of men. The kind who can lift a heavy load, avoid tripping over their own feet, and keep their mouths shut. Can you help me?”

The asari had beautiful green eyes. The right one winked at Leng. “One Honzo and two humans coming up!” Then she was gone.

The sake arrived a few minutes later. Leng was about halfway through his drink when an older man appeared next to the table. He had shoulder-length gray hair, two days worth of stubble, and the look of a man who had fallen on hard times. “The name’s Hobbs. Rex Hobbs. I hear you’re hiring.”

Leng eyed the man. “That’s right … Tell me a little bit about yourself.”

Hobbs shrugged. “I’ve done a little bit of everything, but I got fired recently, and I’m broke.”

“Broke enough to take a couple of chances?”

Hobbs produced a wry smile. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Leng took a sip of sake. “I’m looking for a couple of people who can help me recover an item that a certain organization has under lock and key. I have the means to get through security. But I’ll need help hauling the object away.”

“Sounds interesting,” Hobbs replied. “What kind of object are we talking about?”

“A body.”

“As in a
dead
body?”

“Exactly.”

“Why?”

“Why not? I’ll pay you a thousand credits for two days of work.”

Hobbs gave it some thought. “You can get us in? And out? Without being caught?”

Leng shrugged. “There are no guarantees. But I’ll be there throughout. Taking the same chances you do.”

What might have been greed glittered in Hobbs’s eyes. He nodded. “I’m in.”

“Good. I’ll buy you a drink. Let’s see if the third member of our team shows up.”

A man who was clearly drunk showed up at the table shortly thereafter and was rejected. Maybe he could get sober and stay that way, but Leng didn’t have the time or the desire to find out.

Fifteen minutes passed before the next candidate appeared. Her name was Ree Nefari and she had dark skin, hair that hung in dreadlocks, and a lip piercing. The silver pin was clearly meant to be a replica of a human thigh bone. Leng frowned. “You are female.”

Nefari smiled. “I can see that it’s going to be damned near impossible to put anything over on you.”

“I was looking for a male.”

“Why?”

“The job involves lifting a heavy weight.”

Nefari nodded. “I’ll tell you what … I’ll arm wrestle the ape here. If I put him down the job is mine.”

There was a thin smile on Hobbs’s lips. “Sure, bitch … Bring it on.”

Leng shrugged. “Okay, it’s a deal.”

Leng could tell that Hobbs was in trouble the moment
the two combatants locked hands. Nefari was strong, confident, and had clearly beaten men before. In fact, Leng had a sneaking hunch that she made at least part of her living putting suckers in their place. But it was too late for Hobbs to back out, so when Leng said “Go!” the other man put everything he had into forcing Nefari’s arm down.

But it was a wasted effort. Nefari’s arm was like a steel bar. She smiled beatifically as Hobbs’s face turned red. “Is that it?” she inquired sweetly. “Are you all in?”

Hobbs answered with a grunt.

“Okay,” Nefari replied. “Let’s talk about how much you’re going to pay me.”

There was an audible thump as Hobbs’s arm hit the tabletop. The team was complete.

“Gillian! Stop!”
Hendel shouted, as the teenager entered a monorail car, and the doors began to close. But if the youngster heard him there was no sign of it as Hendel was forced to jump aboard the next car back or lose her entirely. A batarian swore but was forced to move when Hendel pushed his way into the crowd of passengers and the train left the station.

Hendel had been searching for Gillian for the better part of two days by then. He’d combed the streets of Hu-Town, checked dozens of hotels, and spent hours visiting the sort of restaurants Gillian preferred. All to no avail. So he had given up, and was on his way back to Anderson and Kahlee’s apartment, when he spotted Gillian standing on a monorail platform.

Hendel felt mixed emotions as the train began to slow. Gillian was alive! And seemingly healthy. But
why hadn’t she called? And what about the suitcase she was towing?

The monorail came to a halt, the doors hissed open, and people flooded out. Hendel allowed himself to be carried along, craning his neck to see if Gillian was getting off too, and was relieved to see that she was. He shouted, “Gillian!” but was too far away to be heard over all the background noise, so he began to run.

There were lots of people forcing him to zigzag through the crowd. And that was when he accidentally bumped into a very short-tempered krogan. “Hey, human, watch where you’re going!” The warning was accompanied by a blow that sent Hendel sprawling. By the time he picked himself up, and resumed the chase, Gillian was no longer in sight.

Hendel began to run, but was more careful this time, and managed to avoid additional collisions. All he could do was follow the main flow of foot traffic in hopes that it would lead him to his quarry. Then he saw the sign that read
BOARDING AREA
and realized he was closing in on Spaceport 4.

Desperate to see over the people in front of him Hendel jumped up onto the top of a flat-topped trash chute and stood on his tiptoes. That was when he spotted Gillian just as she passed through the first security check.

Hendel’s legs absorbed the jolt as he landed on the pavement and ran toward the entry point. A turian C-Sec officer was stationed there and held up a hand as the human came to a halt. “Pass, please.”

“The girl,” Hendel said breathlessly. “The one who
just passed through. I need to speak with her. It’s very important.”

“Sorry. Please stand to one side so others can pass.”

Hendel had no choice but to obey. His eyes went to the reader board on which flight information was displayed. His spirits fell. According to the sign the ship that Gillian was about to board was bound for a lawless asteroid that was home to all manner of criminals, outlaws, and mercenaries. And Hendel realized, as the last call for boarding came over the PA system, there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. Gillian was on her way to Omega.

The better part of eight hours had passed since Leng had recruited Nefari and Hobbs. Now, having gone over Leng’s plan, and dressed in the blue scrubs that Evidence Technicians wore, the trio was about to enter the C-Sec Forensic Lab via the subsurface employee entrance.

Leng had chosen to invade the facility at night when fewer people were on duty. But in order to do so they had to get past the retinal scanner mounted next to the steel door. And that was where the copy of Obey’s retinal patterns came into play as Leng produced a black box and held it up to the reader. It should work. It had in the past. But his heart was pounding anyway.

The scanner sought a retina, found one, and sent the resulting image to a computer. It confirmed that the person with that pattern of capillaries was authorized to enter the facility and ordered the door to open. That allowed all
three
of the humans to scoot into the employee break room. It was empty except
for some utilitarian furniture and a vid screen that sensed their presence and turned itself on.

Leng felt a sense of exuberance. The first hurdle had been cleared. The next step was to figure out where to go. “Sit down,” he ordered. “And if somebody comes in you’re on a break.”

Nefari and Hobbs did as they were told while Leng went over to a pedestal-mounted terminal where he activated the omni-tool strapped to his left arm. The device was equipped with the finest hacking software that Cerberus could buy and made short work of the level-one security layer designed to prevent unauthorized personnel from accessing floor diagrams, personnel rosters, and emergency procedures. All of which were considered to be confidential rather than secret.