Head starting to throb from the repeated nearby explosions, Pat vaulted the table and ran out, dodging past the charred, malformed bodies her grenade had created and running for the core of the building. That was where she would find Wayden; there was no way he would be anywhere apart from the secured, windowless room where his security personnel worked and he could hole up in safety. Or so he thought. She had done her research, suspecting that she would end up having to mount a raid on Wayden’s stronghold by the time she got to him. She had managed to find out exactly what kind of security systems he had had installed. She knew the flaws, and the probable shortcuts, though she had not expected to need to exploit them quite so urgently. She had not expected…
How had Meridian got to the point of hunting down Wayden so quickly? Why did she have to turn up now? Of course, Pat had heard of the woman. She was constantly in the news for one reason or another. She had been turned into some sort of robot. She had closed some very high-profile cases in the last few years. She had managed to get Harper August tried and convicted… Could she do the same with Wayden?
No. August was one thing, but there would be far more politics in the lead investigator for Palladium arresting the son of the Chairman of Wayden Executive Services. No, this had to end tonight. Sherman Wayden had to die tonight.
Pat fixed a small explosive charge over a panel bolted to the wall near the door of the security room, set the timer, and stepped back. This was the messy way in, but it was quick. She readied her shotgun, flicking the selector to full auto and shouldering it. The charge blew: there was a flare of light as the shaped explosion burned into the circuitry hidden behind the panel. Lights over the door began to flash red and the door, a heavy reinforced steel affair, hinged back toward her. All she needed was one, clear shot…
Bullets sprayed out through the gap before the door was fully open, one of them hitting Pat in the right thigh, ripping through the muscle, tearing flesh. Pat let out a scream and tried to stay upright, but her leg was having none of it; she fell, hitting the heavy-duty carpet in the hallway and struggling to turn over before whoever had shot her could finish the job.
‘Ha! Stupid bitch! Thought you could get the drop on me, but I showed you.’ Wayden. Wayden was swaggering out of the panic room with a machine pistol in his hand, waving it like some gangsta rapper type from the turn of the century. He pointed it vaguely in Pat’s direction and let off another burst of bullets. None of them hit, but then he had not been intending them to. Now he wanted her scared. He was being an idiot and that might just cost him.
‘I am going to see to it that your last moments are really horrific,’ Wayden yelled. ‘You want to know just exactly what happened to your sister? Well, how about I do to you what I did to her.’
Pat tensed herself, ready to lift her gun and fire. The fool had not disarmed her. She would get one shot, but that was all she needed. She gritted her teeth as Wayden levelled the muzzle of his pistol at her face.
‘Maybe I should just kill you,’ he said.
‘Maybe you should put that gun down, before I blow your brains out.’ The voice came from behind Pat. She could not see who it was, but it could only really be one person. ‘And you, Patricia, if you lift that shotgun, I’ll end you too. Let me deal with Wayden. You’ve done enough.’
‘You won’t get him the punishment he deserves,’ Pat called out, her eyes still on Wayden and his gun. ‘Men like him, they never get what’s coming to them.’
‘Not for us to decide, Detective Lomax. We gather the evidence and give it to the courts. They decide what the punishment will be. I have witnesses and video evidence of what that bastard did. Him and Neiman, they’ll go away for so long they’ll have forgotten what the sun looks like when they get out. If they get out.’
‘No, they–’
‘You can’t arrest me!’ Wayden shrieked. ‘Do you have any idea who I am?’ His arm lifted and he fired, lead flying down the corridor toward Fox. Two of the bullets hit home, striking her chest and shoulder as the gun jerked in Wayden’s hand. The hollow-point rounds pancaked against her suit. Ignoring them, Fox shifted the aim of her pistol slightly and fired, and Wayden’s upper arm all but exploded as the huge bullet ripped through tissue and bone.
Somehow, Pat had expected that Wayden would scream, but he did not. He stumbled backward until his back hit the doorframe, and then he slid down it to the floor. He was whimpering. Whimpering like a hurt puppy. Through the door, Pat could see the security personnel, still in their seats. They were not going to help. It would just take a second. Lift the shotgun and–
Fox put her foot down on the shotgun’s barrel and Pat winced as her fingers were crushed against the floor. Pat looked up and into the barrel of Fox’s pistol, and then past that to the icy blue eyes of its owner. ‘That’s enough from you too,’ Fox said. ‘You fucked up, Patricia. I can understand it. I lost someone recently. Someone I thought…’ She shook her head. ‘I could have killed the man responsible, but I didn’t. He’s in Cold Harbour now and I am going to really enjoy watching him rot there. You should have taken what you had to NAPA, or even to me.’
‘You don’t understand,’ Pat said. ‘Rich men never get convicted. Never.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Fox said flatly. ‘And now I’m going to have to see to it that you get locked up right next to them.’
Part Four: Confession is Good for the Sentence
New York Metro, 27th January 2062.
Fox’s eyes flicked open as her sleep cycle ended and awareness returned. She had done an in-place backup rather than uploading to the server because, at four thirty in the morning, Naomi had declared herself too tired to continue and Fox had not wanted to leave her alone in bed.
Turning her head, Fox smiled at the sleeping form beside her. Maybe it was simply the novelty, but Naomi seemed to want to spend as much time as possible with Fox. Sometimes, sex was not involved. Immediately. The previous evening had been one of wine and catch-up. Fox had told Naomi as much as she could about the events in Detroit and Fargo. Naomi had told Fox about happenings at the chapter house and with the Church in general. She had mentioned in passing that the memetics department was still seeing random indications of the Eschaton-198 meme affecting some online communities. That was the one which promoted the idea of some worldwide war in the future and was likely the cause of the recent terrorist incidents.
And then they had started on the sofa and gradually drifted into the bedroom where, it seemed, Naomi was determined to discover just how much endurance Fox’s cyberframe had. It turned out to be enough to tire the professional out and there she was, still asleep, four hours later.
Fox took her time examining the beauty of the other woman in her bed: the smooth, tanned skin, the toned body with such incredibly long legs, the sculpted face with the shock of blonde hair, now dishevelled from a night of sex and sleep. Fox considered herself far from ugly, but Naomi… It was still just amazing that the tall, leggy blonde with so much more experience and decades of training would enjoy spending her time with someone like Fox.
There was a strong urge to wake Naomi and see if she wanted seconds, but letting her sleep seemed a better idea. Slipping out of bed, Fox found a suit to put on and wandered out into the corridor as Kit arrived from the staircase.
‘Good night?’ Kit asked.
‘Exhausted Naomi,’ Fox replied.
‘I did more or less the same with Vali.’
‘Good night all round. I’m going to put a call through to Topeka shortly.’
Kit nodded. ‘Checking on the audit?’
‘Checking it’s been shut down.’
When Fox’s parents materialised in the lounge, they were looking happy, but tired. Jonathan was dressed in working clothes: jeans and a sweater thick enough to cope with a Topeka winter. He clearly had plans to work in his fields today. Andrea was only wearing a large shirt and clearly had no plans to go anywhere. Fox had masked her image a little, adding some jeans over her bodysuit, though f
rom her mother’s state of dress, she might as well not have bothered. Breakfast had probably been over for a while, but they were still drinking coffee.
‘Morning,’ Fox said. ‘I didn’t call too early, did I?’
‘We got up a little late,’ Andrea said. ‘We were up late celebrating.’
From the slightly embarrassed look on Jonathan’s face, Fox had a fairly good idea what form at least some of the celebration had taken. ‘Me too,’ Fox replied.
‘Oh?’ Andrea sat up a little straighter. ‘Have you found yourself a new boyfriend?’
‘Uh, no. Not exactly. It’s complicated. I’ll introduce you when I’m sure where the relationship is going. I’m going to assume that the celebration was for the audit being shut down?’
Even if Andrea wanted to know more about Naomi, Jonathan accepted the change of subject. ‘We realise this means another audit is going to have to be arranged.’
‘Which will probably be more Hell,’ Andrea added.
‘But we were absolutely sure Meier was not giving us a fair assessment.’
‘I won’t say I did not feel a little twinge of pleasure when I heard Ray had arrested the man,’ Andrea said, smirking.
‘Ray and a team from NAPA,’ Fox said. ‘This is a big embarrassment for NAPA. We have solid evidence that Meier fixed the Fargo audit for Sherman Wayden, and fairly strong evidence that he was being paid to fix others, including yours. NAPA are going to have to redo every audit Meier was involved in and there’ll be calls for greater scrutiny of all the audit teams.’
‘From what we heard on the news feeds,’ Jonathan said, ‘your main competitor is somewhat embarrassed for reasons other than bribery.’
Fox nodded. ‘I can’t say much about it. It’s still an active case. I’ve got pretty solid evidence, however, and Sherman Wayden’s under arrest for a string of crimes I’d rather not go into. I caught the woman who was murdering his pals at the same time. It was a mess. Bodies everywhere. I still felt kind of sorry for the woman, but what she did was not justice.’
‘Some people might think it was,’ Andrea countered. ‘I’m not saying I do,’ she added quickly.
‘No, I agree. I just happen to think that seeing someone locked away from daylight for the rest of their natural life is worse than killing them. I could have killed Edwin Montcairn, but I think I find more closure in knowing I’ll be able to watch him die of old age on the Moon. I guess it’s instant gratification versus long-term.’ Fox’s eyes flicked away from her mother as a naked Naomi walked into the room, yawning. How could someone look beautiful and incredibly sexy while yawning?
‘The news reports said both of them were injured,’ Jonathan said.
‘Yeah. Wayden shot Lomax in the leg. She should be cleared for interview today. It was a bad wound, but it was all flesh. I shot Wayden in the arm. They’re still trying to work out whether to amputate and replace, or fix it in place.’
Naomi, realising that Fox was in teleconference, grinned. It was a mischievous grin and it made Fox distinctly worried.
‘You’re not going to get pressure to drop the case?’ Jonathan asked. ‘There’s a lot of politics in arresting the son of Palladium’s competitor. Wayden has a lot of political backing.’
Fox watched in vague horror as Naomi knelt beside her legs. A quick change in settings stopped her avatar from responding to movements below her waist just before Naomi picked up Fox’s right foot, fingers sliding over the contours. ‘There’s too much evidence,’ Fox said. ‘They’ll try to get it dismissed. If it goes to court, they’ll try to reduce the credibility of the witnesses. They might even manage it, but the video evidence…’ Fox’s brain went dry for a second as Naomi placed her lips to Fox’s big toe and then sucked it into her mouth. ‘Well,’ Fox went on quickly, ‘that was made by one of the conspirators and it’s going to be hard to refute. Wayden is screwed. He just hasn’t admitted it yet. Even to himself.’
Naomi raised an eyebrow at the word ‘screwed.’ She began running her tongue along the ball of Fox’s foot and the underside of her toes. Fox pressed her lips together and fought to keep her face more or less straight, not helped as Naomi began sliding fingers up the inside of her calf.
‘You’ll crack him,’ Jonathan said, flashing a smile.
‘I’m not so sure,’ Fox replied just as Naomi began kissing her ankle and working her way higher. ‘He’s… delusional. I don’t think he believes he did anything wrong. Or that it shouldn’t matter what he did because he’s… Well, because he’s rich and possibly because he’s a man. There’s a lot of misogyny floating around this case.’ Keeping a steady voice was a lot easier when breathing was a voluntary function, but Fox’s mind was trying really hard to turn its attention to what Naomi’s lips were doing.
‘In that case, I’d imagine being caught by a woman would be a real thorn in his side.’
‘Uh-huh. I might be able to use that.’ Naomi had reached the top of Fox’s thigh. Fingers pulled the fabric of Fox’s suit aside. ‘Uh, I have to go. Something’s come up.’ Naomi lifted her eyes to Fox’s face and then, very deliberately, pushed her tongue deep into Fox’s sex.
‘Nothing serious, I hope?’ Andrea asked.
‘No,’ Fox replied. ‘Not serious at all, but I need to deal with it. I’ll call next week.’
‘Talk to you then.’
Fox was sure Jonathan was trying not to smirk as he waved and then vanished. She looked down into Naomi’s eyes as the blonde replaced her tongue with three fingers and began to lap at Fox’s clit. ‘You are evil,’ Fox said.
Naomi lifted her lips from Fox for long enough to say ‘That’s a terrible thing to say about a nun’ and then she went straight back to work.
~~~
Patricia Lomax sat in the interview room wearing one of the white jumpsuits Palladium had decided were suitable for people in holding. She was not cuffed. She had shown no signs of violence since being brought in and Fox was interviewing her; even back in her Mielikki frame, Lomax was not going to be able to cause damage to Fox.
‘You have decided to forgo representation. Is that correct, Detective Lomax?’ Fox asked as she sat down across the table.
‘You shouldn’t call me that,’ Lomax responded. ‘I gave up any right to that title when I killed Guthrie.’ Fox looked at her. ‘Yes, I don’t need a lawyer. I’ll accept an AI one to go through the process, but I don’t need one for interview.’
Fox nodded. ‘How’s your leg?’
‘They say it’ll heal. They stitched me up and made sure the tissues will reknit. I’ll be limping for a while. How’s your arm?’
Lifting her left arm, Fox rotated her shoulder. ‘Good as new. Well, technically it is new. They replaced it all the way to the shoulder joint. Stripped and reskinned the whole frame. You heard about that, huh?’
‘I saw it. I was kind of surprised when you had both arms in Fargo.’
‘Different frame. I’d have switched to that one anyway, but I wasn’t given much choice. That one wouldn’t have lost a limb to a standard bullet. You’re not going to fight this at all, are you?’
Lomax shook her head. ‘I’m guilty. I know what I did. I’m not sorry I did any of it. I’m not going to deny it either.’
‘Okay. Tell me.’
And Lomax began to speak. She was used to taking depositions from witnesses, and she chose to present the facts, as she saw them, in precise order and with as much detail as she would have wished to get from a cooperative witness. She began with the disappearance of her sister and how she had spent as much time as she could manage in Fargo trying to hunt for her. There was the realisation that the second body at Lake Lida was Amelia and that Guthrie had been put in place to cover up the entire thing. She had grabbed Guthrie in his home and taken him to an old warehouse she knew of, and there she had persuaded him to tell her everything he knew. That had turned out to be not as much as she had hoped, but she had used his login to get all of the case files on the missing girls, and Guthrie had told h
er that he had been assigned by Sherman Wayden and that the fact-finding group had been involved.
Lomax had got most of the remaining story from Kent Killian while she tortured him in his home. How the group had been involved in various criminal acts involving women for decades, but the trip to Fargo had been set up as the first of what they had hoped would be an annual event. They had had the girls brought in, drugged them, and done whatever they felt like to them. Amy and Molly Tailor had been special; Burrage had supplied a new drug out of South Africa which turned the girls into zombies, willing to do anything they were told. Lomax had left him facing the scene of the rape party he had organised at his place, including the use of his own fiancée by the entire group.
And then it had just been a matter of dealing out justice to the men who had raped and murdered her little sister. ‘Justice,’ Lomax said. ‘I gave them what they deserved.’
‘Revenge and justice are two different things,’ Fox replied. ‘Revenge shouldn’t be part of the justice system, even if society demands it. I’m not going to say I don’t understand why you did it, but I can’t condone what you’ve done.’
‘You’ll never get Wayden in a cage. Neiman… maybe, but not Wayden. He’s too rich, too connected.’
‘Like Harper August and Reginald Grant?’ Lomax said nothing to that, so Fox went on. ‘I’ve got Sherman Wayden cold. He can’t wriggle out of it. If it goes to court, everything he’s done is going to come out where the public can see it. Even if he goes for a plea bargain, he’s going to be a very old man by the time he gets out. And that’s the thing. Imagine being someone like him in Rikers, or Cold Harbour, for decades. Compare that to a few minutes, or hours, of torture and then an end to it. Ask yourself which is worse.’
Lomax looked up at Fox, opened her mouth, and then closed it. She frowned and finally said, ‘I just don’t believe you’ll get a conviction. I saw it too much when I was with NAPA.’
Dominance (Fox Meridian Book 8) Page 23
