Prescot reached for something on the desk, probably to stun everyone in the room. Aramis sprinted forward to get inside the likely safe area, and Shaman zapped and missed, but the charge grounded millimeters from Joe's hand. He snatched it back, realized his mistake, and reached forward again as Aramis shot a bullet close enough to make him squeal.
Prescot's two personal guards staggered from behind the reinforced desk. Bart and Aramis stood just inside where the shield had been, weapons cradled for snap shots, just far enough the remaining muscle wouldn't have time to do anything other than twitch and die.
Joe Prescot stared around at the carnage, pools of blood seeping into the carpet, and bodies and parts. He didn't get sick, but he did seem completely sobered.
"We win," Alex said, and, "don't," when one of the guards looked like he might try something.
The man lowered his weapon and dropped it, and his partner followed suit.
Bart and Aramis stepped forward and kicked the guns away. Shaman moved into a covering position. He didn't bother with the casualties. They were pretty well done for.
Jason's adrenaline rush faded. He'd lived, dammit. He remembered to swap for a full magazine. Habit, but a habit that had saved his life before.
Joe was now crouched behind his desk, whimpering. He crawled to his seat, looked around, and clutched the edge of his desk.
"Caron, you're alive! You don't know how—"
She interrupted with, "Shut your fucking face," delivered in perfect King's English and euphemistic French. The profanity delivered like that from her seemed to slap him. He sat silently, lips moving but no sound escaping.
"That's better," she said. "I know about the theft from helpless workers risking their lives to line your pockets, because the billions you were earning weren't enough. I know how you destroyed the lives of my friends, who can never be my friends again despite this. You tried to have me killed. You killed my father, your brother," she sobbed for just a moment and continued. "You disgraced our family name and our business reputation. I even found the filthy pictures you had of me."
At that, he flushed even more than she did. His breath was strained and rapid, and his pulse was clearly at a health-threatening rate.
"Should I just shoot him for you, Miss?" Jason asked. He made it sound very eager, and yet almost disinterested. It was a perfect caricature of a cold killer, and Joe cringed again.
"I'd enjoy seeing the desk painted a delicate shade of brain," she agreed, and Alex choked. "However, it's too quick. Don't you agree, Uncle Joe?" she asked, fixing him with a hot, angry stare.
Jason asked, "Kneecaps, then?" He thought he might enjoy it, actually.
She babbled a bit. "Death, or a long life in jail? It doesn't really matter what you think. I now own more than fifty percent of the shares, or will as soon as the paperwork is done. I'm striking you from the Board, seizing all your stock under Rule Fourteen A Three, regarding fraud and criminal actions harmful to the company. They'll be resold. It was the income from them that kept you in that lifestyle you love . . . which is now done. You are not in my will, nor among the company's creditors, so you don't even have a means to fight me on this."
Joe Prescot was smart enough not to reply. He just glared back, with a scheming eye.
"Oh, I'm not that naïve, Uncle," she said. "I know you could borrow or acquire more assets and try to come back. That's why you're staying here. You won't be able to call for favours, because you'll be in disgrace and unable to gain footage. So you won't get revenge either. Though if there is to be vengeance, it's mine. You'll be down in a hole, and every time you hear a rumble, you'll have to wonder if it's just another mining charge, or if I've grown tired of the game and have it in for you, or perhaps some miner from the old days remembers who his sweat kept in finery. Or I may remember that Ewan and his family must starve in the gutter because of your deceit. Or I may remember those videos. It seems certain at some point some past or future wrong will cause me to kill you. Or someone will figure out who you are." It was a long speech, but she was obviously enjoying it.
"Now, I need you away from my seat. I have an operation to run." She gestured.
Bart reached around and grabbed him by the collar, dragged him up from his seat and shoved him across the room. He half tripped on a severed arm and skidded on the pool of thickening red slime beyond it, before catching himself on a chair.
Caron sat gracefully and imperiously in the chair, leaned back to get a feel for it, sighed in just a little bit of relaxation, and then spoke.
"Elke, Aramis, while it's not part of your contracted duties, would you do me the favour of escorting my uncle down to the Pit and ensure he's furnished with a coverall, a cot and proper safety gear? He has a substantial debt to pay, and he may as well get started."
They complied immediately and silently. Each took an arm, pulled him around against his ineffective flails, and started dragging him. Elke slipped binders on him so smoothly it looked like an illusion.
While Jason didn't get the satisfaction of shooting the son of a bitch, he found the cursing screams presaging a life of hard labor in a hole to be almost as gratifying.
It was very sweet to hear Caron start giving orders for cleanup as if Joe was already forgotten, while he was still visible across the broad loft.
Jason's final thought on the matter was, Nope, not a scratch on the glass.
Epilogue
Alex almost felt déjà vu stepping into Meyer's office.
This was much easier than the AAR after Celadon. It helped that this time there'd only been one faction to worry about. Though that faction, he reflected, had had more money than the entire nation of Celadon and all the interests involved. He was glad this one hadn't escalated more than it had.
While uniforms were not involved, this was still basically a report to the colonel. Alex felt pretty comfortable this time, though.
"Sir," he said as he walked in. Meyer was in front of his desk and offered a hand.
He said, "I have the official report for review later. I'm considering some medical counseling for you, though."
"I don't feel that stressed, sir," he said. "Rather well, actually."
"Alex, you turned down a billion marks, that was almost certainly a real offer, with a guarantee of the principal's safety added to your own. You're insane. It's a madness I appreciate at my end, of course."
"Ah," Alex replied. "It may have been a real offer, but on top of the moral issue of a bribe, and handing Caron over to that old pervert, there was the fact that he'd certainly expect more favors, and could make the money disappear as soon as he chose. He was screwing his brother's employees all along. There's no reason to believe I'd come out any better in the end."
"And here I was thinking you were just that dedicated and loyal."
"There is that," Alex smiled. "And of course, I knew you'd reliably offer ten percent of that in reward."
Meyer laughed loudly. "You really do need psychological help."
Alex joined him. No, he hadn't expected that, but what harm in suggesting it?
"Still, well done, and I'll call everyone in for congrats and Scotch in a few. Ex Ek is screaming. Travis says he certainly didn't authorize his people to engage in combat against civilians, nor to engage against someone's principal in what amounts to a civil war. I believe him. However, since his people can be suborned and mine can't, I stand to profit. That also means future engagements should be safer. Others won't risk it, and if we have both sides of a contract, there's no risk. That's your reward."
Alex said, "Yes, I do prefer not getting shot at, though that is why they hire us." True, though, that the industry would benefit, and his personal safety. That did make him happy.
Meyer asked, "What's your personal take on Miss Prescot?"
"Mixed. She's still recovering from losing her family, of course, and unhappy at needing the ongoing security. Professionally, she's quite happy and wants to continue our contract. I suggested we rotate personnel throu
gh on a varying schedule, and never to send anyone who hasn't had a previous field contract. That's what she's asking for."
"I saw. It makes sense, it's good for us, and it's lucrative. You wondered why I wanted to keep your team together."
"I didn't really wonder. It's just not that commonly done, but we work well."
"Good. It's likely I'm sending you out on another field assignment in about twelve weeks. Is that enough time for everyone to recover and rest?"
"It's rough on Jason, since he has to ship to Grainne Colony. He'll lose four of those in transit, but I think we can do it."
"Good. Miss Prescot paid everything up to date, by the way, with a bonus contingent on continued performance. Also something about fifty Marks personally to Jason?"
Hah. She'd actually paid him for cooking the curry dinner.
"Yes, that's correct," Alex said. Then he sighed. "On the one hand, I feel no qualms at all about any amount of money she wants to throw at me. But I really feel sorry for the girl."
"I did from the moment we took the contract. There's nothing we can do about that, though. You've done your part. Time to move on."
"Right. After all, she'll have to."
THE END
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Do Unto Others-ARC Page 40
