Rogue-ARC (32 page)

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Authors: Michael Z. Williamson

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Space Opera, #Adventure, #Fiction

BOOK: Rogue-ARC
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She needed reassurance, though. She looked at that goo and saw herself, young and healthy and attractive with a long life ahead, in the middle of a fight between a sociopath and the insane narcissist who trained him, herself considered tactically expendable by each to get the other.

“I can’t see it. He’s not going to stop me with a message. This ends when he does. Nothing else. He knows that.”

However, he might be sociopathic enough to do it as a fuck-you gesture on the way down.

I didn’t mention that, but there was a good chance she guessed.

I’d have to keep her reassured as best I could, because I needed her attention on her duties, and I just might have to throw her out as a decoy.

If it came to that, we all died. I’d take him down, and then I’d finish myself, because she was competent, decent, attractive, a very nice young lady all around.

Who I shouldn’t care that much about tactically speaking, but I did.

Shit.

Intellectually, I knew some of that was just the stress and proximity. Any combat relationship has a certain intimacy of a unique type. However, she had a personality I meshed with, and accepted me as a human being even with my legion of flaws. Add in that incandescent body I could only pretend I was carnal with, and it was a recipe for emotional disaster.

And yet I was friends with this man.

I didn’t know why any of this mattered. It shouldn’t. It did.

CHAPTER 19

I ignored Silver showering,
though to be honest, it wasn’t that sexy after the human tartare.

Randall was really dialing it up. This had to stop, and soon. The sheer mess and body count were noticeable. Also, if he escalated, he’d find out I could escalate more. Naumann would probably sign off on a few hundred kilos of hyperexplosive and collateral damage. I wasn’t ready to go there yet, but realistically, there was a break point. That made me furious again. More innocent people could die. The War had been over for a decade our time. Just stop.

One of the phones buzzed. It took me a moment to determine which one. It was the disposable we’d gotten from Krezny.

I answered,
“Dobrij den’.”

“I am calling about a dinner service.” The voice was very cultured, with definite Russian overtones.

“I remember. What can I do for you?”

“We should meet. There’s a business matter we might talk about.”

“I’m agreeable. Where would you like to meet?”

“North Line Park. We can decide where exactly once we get there.”

I said, “Nineteen hours.”

“We shall talk then.” He disconnected.

Well, that was interesting. I’d got the mob’s attention. Were they running him and wanted more? Wanted better? Wanted to eliminate me? Not running him and wanted parity?

We’d find out.

Silver came from the shower, dressed with wet hair and looking fresh. I told her about the call.

“You’re insane,” she said. “It’s a setup.”

“Possibly,” I said. “I’ll be armed, with what are likely their guns.”

“As will I. I’m just hoping we don’t die in the process.” She looked scared.

“It’s traditional. They like to see who they’re dealing with, get a feel for them. It also gives them some control, or so they think. I’ll do it.”

I rented a vehicle, since the police had contact with us. We took the rifle—a professionally shortened hunting job that made a decent carbine—the shotgun, two handguns each, knives and light armor. This could be more flat-out combat. The gear was in a bag in the rear seat, not really hidden, so I drove very moderately.

At the park, we chose one end of the lot, so I could figure out which car was theirs. There were civilians out, children playing, and I assumed there was some attention after the shoot-up across town the other night. It was probably safe enough.

Ideally, Silver should go talk while I covered her with a good rifle, since I held the Master rating to her Marksman. However, I had to be the one doing the talking. I reached back and slid the rifle low under her seat, and said, “Cover me. If I throw prone, kill him. I’ll be shooting with a pistol.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, a bit too formal. It was still getting to her.

I climbed out and walked across the lot, and my opposite number did likewise. I felt safe enough, though it wasn’t impossible a sniper would drop me. There was also nothing I could do about it. It was a nice day, though, and some plants in bloom. It wasn’t a day to die.

“Good day,” I said.

“We need to discuss the future,” he replied, and indicated a curb. I checked the bush nearby then sat, as did he.

“Go on,” I said.

“A certain associate of yours works for us. He’s becoming unstable and less reliable. Stress.”

“I can’t imagine why,” I said.

The sarcasm was lost on him.

“Exactly why we’d like to discuss employment with you.”

“Can you afford both of us?” I asked, though I suspected what he meant.

“We can, but we only need one. You’d take his position.”

I wasn’t going to play stupid. My brains would be one of my assets for said task.

“Go on,” I prompted.

“You replace him, we continue the financial arrangement, including the prior assets. If you can find the account he used for previous activities, we’d be agreeable to sanitizing that, too.”

That was quite an opening bid.

So, for some time he’d had an agent, rather than being truly freelance. It did make sense. It also meant he could call them for resources, such as official ID, flights and passage, raw materials.

I wonder how tempted I’d have been, without my daughter and a military obligation. A decade ago, I might well have considered it. I had the personality for it, the skillset, and the lack of attachments.

The problem with being so dispassionate was that I could see how it would end for me, too. One has to sleep sometime. Sooner or later the odds catch up with you, or someone hits you from behind, or you have to go into permanent hiding, which doesn’t fit most personality types in this field. Randall had set himself up for the midterm, without a long-term plan. That fit his youth and personality. He’d gotten into it a little late, but he’d always been a little immature. I snagged him for the team for several reasons, but I kept him where I could watch him because under his brilliance, he was abrasive, too clever for his own good, and liked to show off, as he continued to do in every hit. If I’d needed fewer bodies, he would have been one I’d done without.

Basically, I’d killed him on duty. He just didn’t know it yet.

Timurhin was looking at me, wanting an answer, and probably wondering what that expression on my face was.

“Definitely worth considering,” I said.

“Worth considering? It’s a fortune, and not a small one.”

I needed to stall, so I said, “You’re asking a lot, though. I don’t really need the work, and there is an element of risk or you wouldn’t want someone like me.”

“Yet you contacted us,” he said. “Ten percent incentive is doable.”

I didn’t even know how much they were paying Randall, though they seemed to think I did. Well, well.

“It’s not quite that simple,” I said. “I have an associate who works with me. That’s one of my force multipliers, and part of the package.”

“Not a problem,” he said. “We trust your judgment on how you do your job.”

“How much?” I asked. I leaned back and looked relaxed.

He shook his head. “Paying subordinates is part of your operation, too. That’s why you get the perks, eh?”

He actually thought I was sexually involved with Silver, as some kind of dominance ritual. Well, that still happened in their organizations. They were clannish, misogynistic and very outdated. They were just too large and widespread to eliminate easily, and they did accomplish a lot of business. It did reassure me as to levels I’d deal with, though. Trained thugs, not trained troops.

“Obviously, I’ll have to ensure my associate is on board. The offer seems fair, though.”

“Take your time,” he said. “Shall we meet for dinner tomorrow?”

“I have your phone code,” I said.

He laughed deeply.

“Suspicious man,” he said. “Smart man. Your predecessor wasn’t quite that tricky.”

Very interesting. Randall had likely figured he was a match for them, and wanted to scope out the odds. He’d met them at their convenience.

They referred to him in the past tense.

“You did say you wanted to upgrade, yes? And obviously, my calls will be discreet.”

“Indeed. Also, we would want to review any competing work for the duration. With a running contract we’d want first refusal of course.” Interesting. Randall had gotten cocky and was taking all offers now, possibly including some set up by the competition. They probably weren’t billed that way, but he was being played. His primary employers wouldn’t like that.

I expected he was arrogant about it, making sure they knew how awesome he was and how hard to replace. If they were aware he’d tried for me twice and failed . . .

“Obviously. I assume there’s some retainer fee when business is slow?”

He chuckled dismissively. “Haha. That might be arranged, if business is slow. These things have a way of continuing.”

I knew I was a match for any of them, but they had a lot of resources. Beating them was possible. The lifestyle price was one I wouldn’t pay. I wasn’t going to say that here, though.

They also already considered me to have the job, contingent on eliminating Randall, whom they already referred to in the past tense.

That threw more sand in the machine. I had to kill him, and be close enough to get down, so Naumann could send the current professionals after these lice. He’d be happy. He’d get his live fire training exercise, and we’d get rid of some thugs.

In the meantime, I’d have to play it very carefully.

To my advantage, they appreciated the discreet touch.

I stood and stretched, plastered a light smile across my face, and we shook hands. He feigned similar cheerfulness, and we raised voices slightly.

“Good to see you again,” he said.

“Absolutely. I’ll get a prototype setup sometime next month. Sounds like a fun project.”

“How much do you think?”

“Oh, I won’t charge for that. You’re a friend. Just keep me in mind for production bids, eh?”

“You’re worthy.
Danya
.”


Danya.

I turned, started walking, and then breathed a sigh. I also kept hyperaware. Even if they weren’t setting Randall up, he could be here hoping for a shot.

I felt better once in the car, and more so with distance. I let Timurhin depart first, gave them three minutes, then followed. I kept a clear eye for pursuit. Then I brought Silver up to date.

“I think he’s been telling them what a hot commodity he is, taking side missions, some of which interfered with their plans, and they may be aware he’s tried for me and missed.”

Silver said, “Here’s a theory. They started using him outsystem to gauge his effectiveness. Then they brought him here. He was fine then, but the acceptance made him cocky.”

“I’d thought that myself, and it does make sense,” I agreed. “You don’t test weapons in garrison.”

“He was fine at a distance, but the elaborate schemes are noticeable.”

“Yes. Hence the problem they face.”

“He doesn’t want to stop those.”

“I’m not sure he can,” I said. “He was always driven by gadgets. He made me some really trif ones. To avoid having a typical MO, he’s continually developing new methods.”

“They’re his downfall.”

“Also, he’s not getting paid as much as we thought. They are. He’s taking a percentage. He was never good enough with people to negotiate things like that. I suspect he underpriced himself to start, and hasn’t raised enough. He’s established a price and can’t justify a large increase.”

“How would you have done it?”

“I’d have started at a million and negotiated down no lower than seven fifty for an opener, contingent on success. Money in escrow with a drawing account for expenses. I expect he started at fifty thousand and is maybe at a hundred. You heard the discussion. A lot of it’s going in overhead.”

“That’s depressing,” she said.

“Yeah, he was always smart enough to get into trouble, not enough to avoid it. He has some temper, too.”

“You’ve mentioned.”

“Not so much temper as pride. I’m going to keep using it against him.”

“Are we getting close, then?”

“Yes. No breakthrough yet, but there will be one. He’s good at your job. He’s half trained at mine.”

“That’s scary of itself.”

“Which is why he’s being stopped. It’s not even really an object lesson for others. It’s to protect our government from the political fallout if others realize just how dangerous we can be.”

“I thought you proved that on Earth. Sorry.” She looked embarrassed at bringing it up.

I shrugged it off. “Yes, but governments have short memories. This is ongoing and indicative of threats to
individual
members of state. Politicians at heart are usually cowards. They rarely do for themselves what they can have someone else do.”

“How long have you been this cynical?”

“Since one bunch of them ordered me to hurt another bunch, but not in a way that would result in reprisals against them personally. There’s historical precedent in the early eras of not targeting commanders in war, because that would leave troops ‘undisciplined.’ Fine to kill them, but not the guy managing them. In reality, we learned that if you take him out, the fight gets a lot shorter. This still doesn’t apply to politicians, but it should.”

A circuitous route back to the rental agency made me feel better, and I took several turns right as the signals locked, ensuring nothing behind me at that moment. Was I paranoid enough?

Silver had a jammer running, but the power was quite low, since that itself could be traced if it put out enough. There was also the emergency transponder, if they knew anyone at the response company or rental agency.

I was paranoid, but it might not be enough.

We made it home, checked our seals, checked our cameras, determined some city services had coasted by; trash and street cleaning, and that everything seemed safe.

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