“Not likely.” She said. “This suit is expensive, most of that being the tailoring. There is nowhere to hide a weapon. Be that as it may, if I wanted to harm any of you, I wouldn't need a weapon to do it.” Her voice was deep for a woman, smoke and boardroom meets culture and confidence.
“It's okay, Mr. Verner. Let her through.” The voice in the back of the room was similarly cultured, another stark contrast to the local décor.
The woman walked past Verner to the center of the office, small head movements indicating she was taking in the sights. The office was clean. Everything from the data slates on a shelf, to the desktop empty save for a blotter, light pen, and steaming cup, spoke of order. Her eyes rested on a sculpture from the Exodus Wars set in an alcove in one of the walls. It must have importance for the occupant, resting under a gentle spotlight to bring a visitor's attention to it.
A man in the later part of youth sat behind a desk in a tailored suit, across from a slightly older woman in a pilot's jacket.
“Do you like it?” he asked the newcomer.
The woman in the scintillating suit orbited the piece, surveying it with an appraising eye. “Battle of Nasdra Yon. One of the Elite Nobles fighting against Alexander Liau, the Lion of Athalon. End of the Last Exodus War. The artist might have wanted to study a bit of history before carving it, though.”
“Why is that?” the woman in the pilot jacket asked.
“Alexander Liau didn't fight on Nasdra Yon.”
The man behind the desk clapped, taking the rest of the normal occupants of the room by surprise. “Brava. Nice catch.” He rose from the desk, gliding across the room with the practiced grace of a diplomat. “My name is Stavros Kenner. A pleasure, my dear. Might I ask who you are?”
“My name is Anyalara Singh.” The two shook hands in the manner common in the Core Worlds among the gentry. Polite, gentle, and swift. The rest of the room took on an air of discomfort as the duo were clearly brought up in a different social circle.
“Mr. Kenner, she demanded to see you, saying she had an appointment. When Colby tried to force her to submit to a search...” The Tyth began to search for a tactful way to convey the rest of his thought.
Kenner interrupted him. “I know, Mr. Raevo. I saw the exchange on the holo-feed. It's fine. I'm sure Ms. Singh, was it, is not going to be any trouble. May I also introduce you to one of my vice presidents. This is Ms. Chen.”
Chen stood, slapping a set of pilot's gloves in her hand. “The pleasure's all mine.”
“What can the president of the Consortium do for you, Madame?” Kenner said, gesturing to a chair.
Singh sat with elegance. She crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap before beginning. “I recently had business dealings with an associate of yours. The outcome was extremely lucrative, but I felt responsible for meeting with you on his behalf seeing as you were trying to reach him for future employment.” She unclasped her hands, producing a blood encrusted cell-com. She placed it on the desk, sliding it over to Kenner without taking her eyes from his.
He inspected it, seeing if he could get it to turn on. The screen activated, the frozen image of a video queued up to play, highlighting the flecks of bloody brain matter on the translucent plastic. “This is the video contract I sent to Enduro, a mercenary with the Crimson. He was a stark professional. Good man. Might I ask what happened to him.”
“I took his head.” Singh said, returning her attention to the sculpture.
Chen stepped back, allowing the trio of thugs a clear line of fire to train their blasters on the businesswoman. She never took her eyes from the Consortium President.
“Gentlemen, please,” Stavros cooed. “Lower your weapons. If you happened to have noticed, she neither flinched nor blinked when you decided, very admirably, to protect me from a perceived threat. That leads me to believe that she has faced this kind of situation before and come out the other end as you see her now. Seeing as I like all of you as you are, please refrain from pointing anything at our guest, save for a smile.”
The sides of Singh's mouth turned up. “Thank you, sir.”
“Most welcome. Now if you don't mind, I would appreciate if you would get to the point of our appointment.”
“Certainly,” she said, her eyes locked onto Kenner's. “I received a bond for the head of Mr. Enduro from the relative of one of his targets. The person was in considerable pain over the loss and felt that only his death would suffice after all the usual routes to bring him to justice had failed. After examining his belongings for further evidence of his dealings, I came across your missive to him. It stood to reason that anyone who would want him dead would soon be calling for your skull as well. Since I had business in the system, I thought it prudent to make your acquaintance, tell you the fate of your man, all while scoping out your security should I have to come back to separate your neck from your negative life choices.”
There was a moment of indecision until Chen burst out laughing. The bodyguards joined the revelry, all the while edging the safeties of their blasters back to the off position. Chen noticed that Kenner wasn't laughing. Breaking up the humor, she said, “So your plan was to walk in here, scope the place out after threatening the head of the most dangerous criminal syndicate in the system, and then just expect to leave?'
“Of course not,” Singh said calmly. “You see, Ms. Chen, should anything happen to me, a signal will be given to the Blaster Bug shadowing your daughter to put a rather large hole in her head. Mr. Raevo's children will have the most delightful day, soaring through the air after the four grams of Hydex blows them from their desks at school. Mr. Quick, who has been debating tasting my flesh since I arrived in his care, will lose the pool in his apartment by way of a Theesium infusion. The water that helps him and his life-mate stay hydrated in the cool, dry air of the steppe will be poisoned, as will she, since she is bathing now. And let's not forget Mr Abizade Verner. Amazing how such a dedicated killer of men can be so attached to a cute and fluffy puppy.”
Kenner broke the tension in the room, reminding everyone why he was in charge. “It's a good thing no one here will harm you without my say so. But if I may ask, why was I not included in your litany of destruction?”
Singh's smile abandoned any semblance of subtlety. “Because I know who you really are Mr. Kenner. And you would have to kill everyone except Ms. Chen to ensure that little tidbit stays between us.”
Up to that moment, Kenner had remained morbidly amused by the new woman's ranting. Her answer wiped the grin from his face. Eyes narrowed as the pack of killers in the room expected an order to stamp out this intruder before she caused any more mayhem. The gang lord surprised the room by switching tactics. “How much were you paid for Enduro's head?”
“A bottle of Nurrabi Cognac.”
Kenner leveled a low whistle, “An expensive payday. There is a bottle in the museum on Elysium. Just out of curiosity, what did you do with it.”
“I brought it back here, and drank it with the vagrant who saved my life five years ago.”
Stunned silence filled the room. Nurrabi Cognac was a liquor that was almost impossible to acquire. Secret brewing techniques produced in extreme locations created a drink as rare as it was unmatched. Small fortunes had been won and lost in the pursuit of a single bottle. In the Frontier, most people wouldn't be able to tell a bottle of Nurrabi from a sports drink, but in the Core Worlds, it was worth killing over. Those that aspired for more than just the dust and grime of the Frontier knew that in the right circumstance, one bottle could change a person's fortune.
Singh offered the story, if only to keep the less mathematically inclined among the group from hurting themselves by thinking about it too hard. “I was shot and bleeding. I needed a moment to catch my breath and not exsanguinate all over the carcrete. A homeless man saw fit to hide me, giving me time to heal my wounds so I could continue my mission. We drank all but a single shot. I told him to make up a story that he found the bottle in a wrecked starship, along w
ith an account of a captain who saved it for the day he was rescued. He is currently using that story as leverage to open a restaurant here in Kabran City. The promise of a taste is bringing investors from all over. It would be interesting to see if a downtrodden man with no money could create a food empire from a single shot of booze, no?”
Kenner clapped his hands again. “You are either the most gifted liar or the most ruthless mercenary I have ever met. What say you work for me?”
“You wouldn't agree to my price,” Singh said.
“Come now. How would you feel about a double bill? Two missions, fully funded, and you name your price,” Kenner countered.
“Sir!” Chen yelled. “My daughter.”
“Is safe as long as we continue having a polite conversation. This is the case, yes?”
Singh nodded. “Yes.”
“Very well. I have an item that needs retrieving,” Kenner said, sliding the former Mr. Enduro's cell phone into a waste basket.
Dark eyes bored into the crime lord. “Retrieving or stealing?”
Kenner steepled his fingers, tapping them in time with his explanation. “A bit of both, actually. The item is mine, but it was stolen from me. I want you to steal it back. The second mission is to kidnap a very bad man for a very good cause. You would be helping medical research for a biotech company. Cutting edge stuff but the catalyst, patient zero as it were, is on the loose. If you lock him down, your payment is secure.”
“This is my price.” The room's tension increased by a factor of ten as Singh stood up, leaning over to the crime lord. She whispered into his ear. The normally reserved Stavros Kenner managed to compose himself after a snarl crossed his face. Then he straightened out his jacket, buttoning up in accordance with the understood norms of civilized fashion.
He recovered the air of command he had when the appointment began. “Are you sure that is what you want? Do you know what you're asking?”
“My price is non-negotiable.” Singh said with finality.
“Deal.” There was no hesitation in Kenner's voice.
Anyalara Singh turned to leave. She came to the Zheegan, who signaled his refusal to move by slapping his tail against the door frame. He was growling, revealing rows of death needles protruding from his mouth. Anyalara always thought they resembled an alligator crossed with a professional wrestler. It was still a wonder how that version of entertainment had survived the centuries. “Fallen Angels suffer their fate because the weight of their choices drag them from heaven, not because they lack the strength to remain. Either he moves or I move him.”
Kenner seemed amused by the display. “Be my guest.”
The words had barely left his mouth when Singh lunged with the speed of an arrow-cat. She strangled the fleshy part of Mr. Quick's throat, the momentum punching him into the door frame until the hatch bent. She pulled his head down to her shoulder, sidling up to him, hip to hip. She easily bore his weight, then lifted the massive lizard man up and over, through the floor. Boards shattered from the impact, sending bloody debris in all directions. For good measure she punched him in the gut, forcing him to raise his head. Careful not to waste a target presented at just the right time, Singh smashed her foot into his chin, sending him careening into the desk amid a rainfall of broken teeth. She tore through the bent hatch like an angry child through tissue paper. Then without so much as a nod or a word, she strolled out into the hall, her expensive high heels clicking at her departure.
Chen leaned into her boss. “I trust you were expecting that.”
“Not even close.”
Left alone with Chen, Kenner looked to the floor with disapproval. It would probably take a few weeks to fix the damage. Tyth craftsmen were never in a hurry.
“Mr. Kenner, barring any more interruptions, I would like to discuss what happened this morning.”
“Sorry, Ms. Chen. The arrival of this particular mercenary has me a bit off of my game.”
“Was it what she whispered to you?”
“And what she said to Mr. Quick.” Kenner said, grimacing at the damage. “Her arrival poses another complication like that of the Lasher.”
“The half Vosi Templar.” Chen stated more than asked.
“Since he went underground, he and his friends have been chipping away at our operations, especially yours. Some of the other chairs are starting to talk under the table. I can't have that Ms. Chen. Not when we are so close.”
“Of course, sir. I've procured a favor from my family in the old country to help us with our mongrel problem.”
“And what was this favor?” Kenner asked with a hint of interest crossing his expression.
“I asked them to send the devil.”
“Now that is interesting. But before I pat you on the back for your vague references, what was the extent of the damage the mongrel bit you for, this morning?”
Chen slapped the flight gloves into her hand. “He stole one of my code books.”
“I warned you about those,” Kenner said, pointing at her. “It was clever to use the books to secure the networks, but having a physical contact back to our operations is dangerous. It could expose us.”
“They won't be able to decipher it. They're just simpletons swinging a stick in the dark.”
“We shall see, Ms. Chen. We shall see.”
Anyalara Singh walked from the warehouse into the back of the waiting auto-car. “Thank you for choosing Sinyo-Versa Automatic Conveyance. Where may we take you today?”
“The Palladium.”
“Straight away, miss.” The robotic driver said.
The car pulled away into the afternoon traffic, the gentle ride made more relaxing by the high priced amenities of the premier car company in the Frontier. When wearing such fashion, she didn't like to drive herself. Singh had an image to maintain and driving around like some errand girl was hardly the way to send a message. Getting out of an armored town car in a place where low grade hover sedans were the best anyone could afford made a statement to those that cared about such things. Kenner was such a man. He cared a great deal about his image in his role of gang leader.
When she had decided to stalk Enduro's employer, she hadn't expected to find someone like Kenner. It had been a long time since their kind tangled with each other. She had hoped he and his had been wiped out, but his being here put that fantasy squarely in the “not yet” category.
“Bourbon, neat,” She said.
A gentle tone chimed in the rear of the car. “Four credits have been charged to your account. Thank you.”
Singh took the glass that slid out of the console in the back of the car. It was real galvanized crystal. Hard to come by on this side of the Boundary. The bourbon wasn’t that bad either. Smokey and smooth, with enough of a bite to make a lasting impression. There was a sweet finish to the drink that brought her back to a time before she left for the black. Before man had reached past the confines of imagination.
The car stopped in front of the Palladium Hotel. Although Kabran City wasn't the only population center of its type on Tythian, it boasted the nicest hotel. Rumors had been circulating for years that the Palladium would open sister locations in some of the other colony cities, but nothing seems to have made it past the planning stages.
“Thank you for riding with Sinyo-Versa Automatic Conveyance. We hope that you enjoyed your experience with us. Would you like to book a car on retainer for the length of your stay here in Kabran City?” The car's AI asked.
“I won't be staying long, but I'll be sure to look you up the next time I'm in town.”
A doorman tipped his hat to her as she passed through the sliding double doors to the building. “Welcome back, Ms. Singh. How may I help you?”
Lush rugs and a smokey grand entrance hall greeted her on her trek toward the concierge. She stopped just shy of the desk, not bothering to wait to be acknowledged. “Please let the management know I'll be checking out today. I would like the usual accommodations to effect my departure if you please.”
>
The woman at the desk was quick to type into the ICOM. Her sultry demeanor matched her Elysian accent as she spoke. “Of course the management is sorry to see you go, Ms. Singh. But that means we get to look forward to your return. Was everything to your satisfaction during your stay?”
“Quite.”
The concierge looked up from her holo-screen, smiling warmly. “Management has made all the arrangements per your instructions. You may depart at your convenience.”
“Thank you, Brigitte.”
Singh swiped her hand across the desk then walked away. A small icon appeared in front of Brigitte, signaling a hefty gratuity for the staff had been applied to the bill. Singh walked to the suite of elevators, many of the patrons parting to allow her past them.
A gentleman in a gray suit stepped from the executive elevator, adjusting his cuff links upon exiting the lift. “Anyalara. Always a pleasure. Brigitte take good care of you?”
“Yes, Romulus. She was a miracle worker as always.”
“Excellent,” Romulus said. He stared down a group of patrons waiting for a lift, giving them the impression they should take the next one. Anyone who stayed here knew that executive functions of the hotel were for a class of client that was well above the norm. Some of these special clients included the mayor of Kabran City, all the members of the Seven Seats, as well as a number of high level mercenaries from the Core Worlds. One did not simply walk into executive status, it was most often earned in blood.
He ushered her through the door, waiting for it to shut before activating the holo-console above the brass plate on the wall, emblazoned with the Palladium Logo. He moved his hands in a series of signs which caused a new menu to appear. “Usual manner of travel?”
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
They traveled down several floors below the hotel. The lift doors slid apart into a room that appeared more hospital than hotel. Several technicians approached, eager to give a report to the businesswoman.
“Great to see you again, Ms. Singh. Conditions look favorable for travel today.”
The Revenant: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 2) Page 6
