by R. M. Olson
She almost stopped walking again, not entirely certain she’d heard him right.
He stopped as well, and turned to look at her. “Jez. Listen. I know I’ve been a complete ass basically the entire time you’ve known me. If it makes you feel better, I’m coming to realize I’ve been a complete ass basically my entire life. But—well, but I don’t fight with Ysbel every time she comes up with a plan with her explosives. And I don’t argue with Tae when he’s talking about tech, because that’s what he does. And I’m not sure why I thought I should be able to argue with you when you’re doing something you’re clearly better at than I am.” He paused. “Like I said. I know I’m crap at being a friend. But—I’m trying, alright?”
She stared at him, and something prickled at the corners of her eyes. She blinked hard, and tried to smirk at him, but it didn’t seem to work the way she wanted it to. “Um,” she said. “I.”
He was smiling, just a little. “You don’t have to say anything,” he said. “Honestly. I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with me for so long.”
“Um. Yeah.” She blinked again, and gave him a quick smile. “If—if it makes you feel better, I—I’m not used to having friends. Much. I don’t—you’ve—” She took a deep breath. “Look. You’re one of the first people in my whole life that ever made me feel like they actually wanted me around, OK? So maybe you’re not such a crap friend.”
He smiled back, a wide, genuine smile this time, and for a moment they stood there grinning at each other like idiots, and she honestly didn’t even care.
Because even if that whole disaster that had been them trying out a relationship hadn’t worked—well, she hadn’t lost him. She hadn’t lost him forever, even though she’d been pretty sure she had, and hell, if it meant never kissing him again she’d take it just to see him smile like that.
Finally he shook his head and turned. “Alright. We’d better get going, or we’ll miss our friends.”
“Yeah,” she said quickly, turning back to the street in front of her. “Better get going.”
They didn’t speak again until they were almost at the club, but it was a comfortable silence, somehow, and she almost didn’t want it to end.
It was strange how just walking down the dirty, familiar streets of Prasvishoni, Lev walking beside her, without anyone waiting to sleep with her or try to kill her—well, OK, the jury was still out on that second one—could send a giddy, relieved happiness bubbling through her brain like alcohol.
“We’re almost there,” said Lev quietly, as they turned onto one of the busier streets. The citizens of Prasvishoni who through some combination of necessity and bad luck were out on the grimy streets, had their scarves pulled up over their heads, shoulders slouched forward like they were walking into a heavy wind, huddled against the evening chill. Jez and Lev had done likewise, but honestly, Jez had never been good at blending in, here or anywhere else.
“Yeah,” she said, glancing down quickly at the coordinates he’d sent through to her com. “OK, look. You go in first, get settled down. Don’t want people thinking we’re together. Once you’ve found a place, tap on your com and I’ll head in.”
He nodded, the strain from earlier back on his face.
She bumped him with her shoulder. “Hey. Genius. Relax. We’ve done crap like this before, and we all lived through it.”
He drew in a deep breath and gave her a tight smile. “You’re right. However, your equanimity in the face of the prospect of either getting shot or getting the actual hell beat out of you has always been better than mine.”
“Nah. I wouldn’t let them beat the hell out of you,” she said with a grin.
“Well, I’m not certain I would be able to prevent someone beating the hell out of you, although I’d certainly try.”
“Well, figure you won’t have to,” she said, patting the pistol in her hip holster. “At least, probably,” she amended. “Anyways, better get in there.”
“Yes,” he said, looking at the narrow alley that held the doorway to the club, a grim expression on his face. “I’ll let you know when I’m in.”
He straightened, tugged on his jacket to smooth it, and strode forward, disappearing into the alley entrance.
Jez wasn’t actually the nervous type. You dealt with the crap in front of you, and there was enough of that that you didn’t actually have time to worry about the crap that was waiting for you. At least, that’s how she usually lived her life. But … well, but waiting had always been a special kind of hell. Besides, she couldn’t get out of her mind the worry on Lev’s face, before he’d straightened and his expression had smoothed over into one of casual confidence, and he’d stepped forward into the alley that led to the club.
Yes, her plan should work, in fact she was pretty damn sure it would, wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise. But—well, but Lev was right, he’d never really been good at fighting, and yes, maybe neither of them really knew how to be a decent friend, but hell, if he got himself shot now when it looked like they were finally figuring things out, she might actually—
“Jez.” His voice hissed through her earpiece, and she jumped.
She tapped her com. “Yeah? You OK?”
“I’m fine. I have a place over in the corner, the club owner thinks I’m waiting for my friends to arrive. Our targets are on the main floor, in the gambling area.” He paused. “How—did you know they’d be—”
She grinned. “Hey genius. You’re not the only one who can read, you know.” She paused. “I mean, I didn’t actually read the crap you sent. But bunch of big government spenders, where else are they going to be?”
There was a moment’s pause, which was probably Lev sighing. Then he tapped his com back on. “Well, you were right. You can come in any time. They don’t seem to suspect anything.”
“On it. See you in a sec.” She pulled the scarf from her head and shoved it into her bag, then pulled out another scarf Galina had lent her and looped it casually around her shoulders, unbuttoned the top few buttons of her coat to show off her expensive-looking white tunic, and sauntered around the corner to the entrance to the club.
When she pulled the door open, the two bouncers glanced her up and down, obviously taking in the fineness off her outfit.
She grinned at them.
“Weapons?” the woman grunted.
Jez raised an eyebrow. “Hey now, how’s a woman supposed to protect herself around here? Anyways, these are for decoration.”
The woman still looked skeptical. Jez winked, and leaned in closer. “Don’t like it, you can take it up with Marina Kaschak. Or with the Kresnaya. He probably won’t be too happy to hear from you, but you could take your chances.” She paused a moment. “Or, you could just wink your eye and let me past, and I’m pretty sure I have a thank-you gift here for you, from Grigory himself.”
The two bouncers met eyes over her head, then at last the woman nodded. “How much of a gift, did you say?”
“Hold up your com, you’ll see,” she said. They did so, and Jez let a generous amount of credits click over.
Hell of a lot nicer to spend money when it wasn’t yours. Even better when it belonged to a bastard who’d taken a security interest in your damn ship. And anyways, no point in looking cheap right now.
“Go on, then,” said the woman at last, waving her forward. Jez gave her wink and strolled into the club, glancing around quickly.
“The five over there. To your right,” came Lev’s low voice over the com, and she turned to look in the direction he’d indicated.
A group of people lounged around one of the tables, laughing. There were gambling tokens and drinks on the table, and she grinned to herself.
“On it, genius,” she whispered, and sauntered in the direction of the table.
They didn’t look up at her approach, but when she pulled up a chair and straddled it, resting her elbows on it’s low back, the woman who seemed to be in charge glanced up at her in annoyance.
“What exactly do you think�
��” she began.
Jez grinned at her, watching her eyes take in the obvious quality of her outfit, the colours hidden subtly in the weave of the scarf. “Hey now, you always so rude to a co-worker?” she drawled.
The woman frowned. “Did Grigory send you?” she asked, her eyes sharp and skeptical.
Jez shrugged easily. “Careful how you throw names around,” she said. “Don’t know where you grew up, but where I grew up, we watched what we said.”
The woman’s frown deepened. “I don’t know—”
“That’s fine. No point in getting this off to a bad start.” She stood and swung the chair around, and sat so that she’d joined them at the table.
“What does Grigory want?” asked a man. “Lady knows we’ve bent over backwards to make sure he gets what he needs.”
She glanced at the table. “What you playing, lady in the park? Go on, deal me in. Easier to talk if we’re playing a nice friendly game.”
“Behind you.” Lev’s voice was tight. “One of Grigory’s boyeviki. She just walked in.”
Under the table, Jez tapped out a pattern in pilot’s code onto her com. Then you’d better keep her busy. I’m just getting started.
The man who’d spoken dealt the tokens grudgingly, and Jez turned hers over with a casual flick of her wrist. “So,” she said, placing a token down in the centre of the table. “Guess you heard about what happened out at the pleasure planet last night.”
The woman looked up, frowning. “No. What happened?” She glanced down at her pile of tokens, then dropped one beside Jez’s.
Jez grinned. “Explosion. In the park two streets down from the Strani House. A bunch of saboteurs, they think, but they haven’t caught them just yet.”
A tall man, with a full beard that made him look a little like a swamp rat with its cheeks full, scowled. “What happened? Have the authorities done anything?”
“Nah,” she said, glancing over the pile of tokens in the middle of the table. “Not sure they want to, to be honest. They haven’t been looking too fondly on Grigory since whatever the hell happened up on his private ship.”
“His private ship?” asked a short, pale-skinned woman with long blond hair.
Jez raised an eyebrow. “Not sure I should tell you, to be honest. But I’m just saying, might not hurt to look into what happened at Grigory’s last conference, is all I’m saying.”
They were all watching her now. She gave a meaningful glance at the pile of tokens in the middle of the table, and the bearded man frowned and pulled out a token absently, throwing it into the middle of the pile.
“Anyways,” she drawled, “hate to be the one to break bad news. Thought you’d have already heard of it. But the conference is off. Actually, I’m surprised one of the boyeviki didn’t come by to let you know, considering how much the boss man paid for you.” She winked broadly at them.
The woman who’d first spoken scowled at her coldly. “I resent the insinuation—”
Jez spread her hands palm up. “Hey now, not insinuating anything, just passing along some news.” She glanced down at her tokens and, after a moment’s consideration, pulled one out of her pile that had definitely not been in the pile when the woman had dealt.
Although honestly, she was pretty sure she could have pulled the token out of her boot, spit-shined it clean, and dropped it right into the centre of the table and got away with it, with the amount of attention these idiots were paying to the game.
“Guess the least I can do is buy you all a drink. You know, something to wash bad news down with. What are you having?”
She stood and gestured a server over.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Grigory’s boyevik, a thin woman with a look to her face of someone who probably killed people for fun. But she wasn’t watching them. Instead, she was frowning down at her com, her expression slightly confused.
Jez cast a quick glance at Lev, who’d pulled up the holoscreen on his com and was typing something surreptitiously.
He looked up and gave a quick wink, and she almost fell over with surprise. Because honestly, she’d been expecting him to be glaring at her like he couldn’t wait to give her some sort of talking-to when they got out of this.
She cleared her throat and turned quickly back to the server, who’d approached and was now waiting patiently. She gave him an easy grin. “Get everyone here what they ask for. And me—” She paused a moment, with a slightly dreamy smile. “I’ll have a glass of Golden Murder.”
The server stared at her.
Everyone at the table was staring at her.
She shrugged. “Hey, you don’t have the good stuff, that’s fine, you only have to say so.”
“That—it’s just, not many people ask for that,” said the server, seeming to recover himself. “We mostly use it for decoration, to be honest. It’s … a little strong for most people.”
She grinned at him. “Well, I’m not most people. And I’d like a glass of it, please. Hell, bring the bottle.”
He gave a slightly-stunned shrug, as if of someone who’d done his duty to warn and couldn’t be held responsible for any consequences, and turned to go. Jez leaned back in her chair and surveyed her companions, who were still staring at her. “Well, you going to throw your tokens? Because I just did, and unless the rest of you want to fold—”
The server returned a few minutes later with the drinks, and the others at the table politely fought back coughs at the sharp sting of alcohol wafting from the open bottle. She grinned at them and poured a generous amount, then raised her glass. Finally, they raised theirs in return,
They’d finished three games and were about one round from the end of a fourth when Lev whispered, “Jez. I have the one boyevik distracted. But another just came in. I think there’s going to be trouble.”
How the hell are you distracting her, anyways? She tapped quickly.
“Doesn’t matter,” he hissed. “The point is, you’re about to be in the middle of a shootout if you’re not careful. I’ll do the best I can, but I’m not sure how effective this is going to be.”
What are you going to—
“Doesn’t matter. Just watch your back.”
She looked down at the table, pretending to concentrate on her tokens, but out of the corner of her eye she was watching the door.
Sure enough, a moment later, a man stepped inside, and Lev rose smoothly to intercept him, putting a hand on his arm. The man turned in annoyance, and Lev said something in a low voice, and soon the two men were conversing in quiet tones. The woman boyevik glanced up from her holoscreen, but didn’t seem unduly alarmed.
And then another man, with the discrete colours that marked him as Grogory’s woven through his scarf, stepped into the room.
There was something faintly familiar about his face.
Damn. She turned back to the table, rummaging through her tokens.
If they recognized her and Lev, this could go sideways quickly.
Then she paused.
On the other hand …
She grinned and pulled a token out like a trophy. “Well, guess this is my final bid,” she said cheerily, loudly enough that her voice cut through the muted conversation and laughter of the club. She dropped it into the centre of the table with a flourish, then leaned back, raising her glass tipsily.
Her partners threw in their own tokens, with the loud laughter of a group of previously-staid government officials who’d been introduced, for the first time, to Golden Murder.
She grinned. They weren’t faking their tipsiness. Honestly, as good as the stuff was, she didn’t envy them the headache they were going to wake up to.
“Well,” she drawled, letting her words slur just a little, “let’s flip tokens and see who won.”
The man she’d recognized was staring across the table at her, with an expression of someone who can’t decide if he’s seeing a ghost, or if he’s seeing someone he intends to make a ghost by the most expeditious means possible.
/> What the hell are you doing? Lev was tapping out pilot’s code as well now, obviously still trying to hold the attention of the boyevik he was speaking to.
Just keep your head down, and get ready to run. Might get a little hot in here in a couple minutes.
She was grinning so wide it hurt.
The woman who’d taken de facto control of the group of officials, and who was possibly a smidgen less drunk than the others, flipped the remaining tokens in her hand. The others followed her lead, and for a breathless moment, they all stared down at the table.
“That’s not possible,” said the woman after a moment.
The man next to her gave a drunken grin that broadened into a loud, delighted laugh. “I won! I bloody won!”
“Yeah? Well done, then,” said Jez jovially, clapping him on the back.
Behind her, the boyevik’s glare had turned to pure ice.
She was pretty sure she remembered cheating him out of at least three month’s worth of wages. Probably more, honestly.
He took a step forward, and Jez half-turned, letting her movements go slightly uncoordinated. “Well,” she slurred, “guess you took me on that one. Thought I was going to win for a bit there. But what’re a few credits between friends?”
“Nothing! That’s what,” said the man emphatically, and she grabbed his sleeve as if to catch her balance, pulling him casually between her and the enraged boyevik at the entrance.
The other government officials were still grumbling, but Jez shot them her best grin. “Come on, we’re all friends here, right? You know, all on good terms and all? Hell, sit back down, might as well finish off the bottle.”
Grumbling, they subsided, dropping back down into their seats. She poured another round of Golden Murder, and looked with regret at her own glass, still half-full from her first pour.
Well, they all had to make sacrifices.
“Anyways,” she said, her voice still too loud, “guess we all know where to go for a good time these days.”
They were all drunk enough that they didn’t even question her statement, and she grinned at them.
