“How’re we doing, Nat?” Sal asked his link.
Nat’s charming drawl came through his earpiece. “Local emergency systems are down, cap. You better ask your lucky stars to make sure there isn’t a fire or something in your area or people will likely die and not the ones you’re looking to kill.”
Sal couldn’t help but be thankful that Sabella made sure his chief engineer was also an experienced hack. Not only could she tweak and upgrade the Jessamine’s systems, but she could help him out in extracurricular activities like this.
“We’ll be quick. What about security?”
“I’ve installed a pretty beefy crack app on your link with a clever security worm to keep anyone from crashing your party. Again, though, you’d best be careful. Heat sigs show two hot bodies in the front room, and three more patrolling the suite.”
“Copy that. Kid, how’s our distraction coming along.”
“I ought to be getting hazard pay for this, Sal,” came Vance’s voice through the link. Their connection protocols struggled to keep the blasting wind out of the feed.
“You are getting hazard pay. They’ll be shooting at you first.” Sal didn’t try too hard to keep the chuckle out of his voice.
“What about extra hazard pay for hanging from a wire nine hundred meters in the air while being slung about by freezing, high-speed winds!”
“You’re getting a little shrill there, Kid. You sure you’re up for this job?”
“I hate you.”
“But are you in position?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m hosing the skuk-head’s windows now.”`
Vance’s part of the plan was the most ingenious. Sal’s crew were tough and they’d all been in combat before, but they weren’t assassins, and that was okay. Sal didn’t want Renzo’s thugs to be killed. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t try to kill Sal and his crew.
Kitting himself, Olo, Yuki and Besser with stunners was easy, but they wouldn’t do them a lot of good in a standup fight.
So Sal came up with a distraction which took the form of Vance cabling down the exterior of Selik tower, hosing Renzo’s windows with quick-shatter nanites, and firing his ridiculous repeater into the floor of Renzo’s bedroom.
“Alright,” Sal said. “Standby to knock. Bel?”
“We have our takeoff clearance and the Jess is hot and ready. I managed to secure a flight path that gets us over Selik Tower. Your timing better be perfect or local sec will knock us out of the sky and you’ll be pretty sore for a pickup.”
“Affirmative. ETA once you take off?”
“Two minutes, thirty seconds.”
“Copy that.” Sal took a deep breath. “Okay, Kid. Do it.”
“Popping the glass now.”
Sal didn’t hear the sound of Renzo’s massive windows shattering. The insulation in a place like this was too good. He did however hear the crackling report of Vance’s modified bolt repeater going off.
“That’s our cue,” Sal said. He led his three deck hands out of the closet and down the pristine hall of the luxury quarter of Selik tower, covered in thick, lush carpet, lined with actual art printed on actual canvas and hung in front of actual wallpaper.
Even though at this height, Sal could see the sky turning blue out the windows, everyone in the tower was asleep. He wasn’t looking forward to stunning some maid or room service delivery boy and he was thankful no such staff was present.
Upon reaching Renzo’s door, Sal held his link to the lock control and watched as Nat’s handiwork broke through the security. It took a second, maybe two. With his other hand, Sal pulled the stunner out of his pocket and thumbed the safety off. The men behind him did the same.
This close he could hear the shouting interspersed with the first back-and-forth reports of weapons fire. He thought he could pick out Renzo’s voice shrill and screaming, but that might have been his imagination.
The door unlocked. Salazar entered a long space too wide to be a hallway but too long to be a room, its floor a shiny herringbone pattern of tiles and its walls decked with faux-fancy art. It led off to several open doorways.
Two broad-shouldered men in suits stood in the foyer, armed, looking towards the sound of the fire. The turned to Sal a second too late. Sal dropped to one knee, lifted his stunner and fired twice. The first thug winced but couldn’t make much more than a strangled grunt, then fell to the ground. Yuki, standing behind Sal, fired also, and the second thug dropped to the floor.
Sal stood again, hugged the left wall, keeping his stunner towards the far central doorway. Yuki followed. Olo and Besser stuck to the right. They cleared through the rooms, quietly and quickly. Renzo’s apartment was surprisingly swag for his position, and everything had the shine of brand new. Sal figured he would have seen price tags hidden behind everything if he looked.
“Dropped one in the kitchen,” Besser whispered into the open channel.
“The three remaining signatures are in the bedroom,” Nat said.
“We’re almost there,” Sal whispered back. The door to the master bedroom was off another wide corridor covered in swag fresh out of the plastic. Even though the door was closed, Sal knew it was the bedroom, partially because he’d seen a layout of the apartment before they set off, but mostly because that’s where the weapons fire and screaming was coming from.
Once Sal’s team was together Sal said, “Alright kid, we’re coming in. Cease fire.”
“It’s about time. They’re getting—”
Sal didn’t pay attention to the rest. Instead he opened the door and stunned the guy closest to him. Sal stepped in. Renzo was hiding behind a huge bed done up in royal blue and white sheets and blankets. He was behind the bed as far as Vance was concerned, but fully exposed to Sal, especially with his violet robe rippling in the wind, revealing that Renzo slept in the nude.
Renzo’s last remaining thug was quicker to respond than the others. In a flash he turned on Sal and started firing. By luck or instinct Sal’s legs crumpled under him and he felt into a drunken cartwheel to the side. The thug followed him with his aim so when Yuki entered the room he didn’t have time to respond in time for Yuki to zap him three times with the stunner. The thug growled, drooling uncontrollably, and staggered back towards the precipice. His shoes clicked and jingled against the shattered pieces of Renzo’s window. And then he fell backward out the window.
“Kid!”
Vance dropped into sight, then back out, his guide wire twanging violently. Then the cable went taught and Vance rose back into view, holding the shuttering thug.
“Will somebody help me with this?” the Kid grunted, his close-fitting jumpsuit flapping despite its fit.
“Besser, Olo, help the kid. Yuki, watch the door in case Nat was wrong or local sec decides to pay us a visit. Bel, take off.”
Sal found his feet again as he spoke, and kept the stunner aimed at Renzo. Yuki put his back to the wall next to the bedroom door. Besser and Olo took the frozen thug from Vance and laid him on the floor. Then they worked at getting Vance into the room.
“Sal?” Renzo asked, as if seeing him for the first time. “Sal, what the sawk are you doing here? You better have—”
“Shut up!” Sal screamed over the blasting wind. “You’re going to listen to me for a change, and then you’re going to spill.”
Renzo shut up, eyes wide.
“I’m going to tell you what you did. You lined yourself up with another system’s local security and used me and my crew to lure out a rebelling faction with a too-good-to-be-true weapons deal.”
Renzo’s eyes got wider. “Listen Sal—”
“I’m not finished! So, you risked the lives of a faithful and lucrative business partner, namely me, and my crew, and you knew you were doing it.”
“Sal, no, I—”
“But you didn’t know that the leader of said rebel faction that died on the deck of my ship was a good friend of mine.”
“But Sal—”
“I flew out of there wit
h Chief Lekem’s blood on my clothes.”
“Sal. Listen. You got to understand.”
“I just walked through your fancy new apartment. I think I understand well enough.”
“You’re not going to kill me, are you Sal?”
Sal realized his original plan would never have worked. He’d killed thugs and local security kanks in firefights, sure, but he’d never killed anyone in cold blood. Sal didn’t know if it was a part of his personal code, or if he was too much the coward.
Sal shook his head. “I’m not going to kill you, Renzo.”
Renzo gave a weak half smile.
“But you’re going to tell me who set up the deal.”
Renzo’s smile faded. He managed to sweat despite being inundated with cold high-altitude winds. He shook his head. “Nah, Sal. No, you can’t—”
Sal put the stunner to Renzo’s head.
“You gonna kill me with a stunner, Sal?” Renzo’s attempt at bravado failed.
“Maybe not, even at point-blank range to the head. But it will likely fry your brain and make a good alternative to a lobotomy.”
“Listen, Sal, I can’t tell you.”
“You’re going to tell me, Renzo, or you are going to find out how fast you reach terminal velocity before you turn into a grease stain. I don’t even know if it’s concrete or not but at this height you’d be dead even if you hit a stack of trampolines.”
“No Sal, please, you can’t.”
Sal grabbed Renzo’s leg and dragged him around the bed.
“Please, Sal, you don’t understand!”
Sal put his stunner away. Renzo clawed at the carpet for purchase but to no avail, pleading all the same.
“Say goodnight, Renzo.”
“He’s not local!” Renzo screamed, sobbing. Sal stopped.
“What?”
“The guy who set up the deal. He’s not from the local system.”
“Where is he from, Renzo?”
Renzo, panting, crying, wetting himself, looked Sal in the eye. “He’s Alliance, Sal. Ministry of Defense. You don’t sawk around with--”
Sal lifted Renzo to bring him eye to eye. They were less than a meter from the edge. The wind had strands of his hair flying into his face and sent the edges of his coat and his sleeves snapping and flapping violently.
“I want a name!”
Renzo squeezed his eyes shut, blubbered some more. Sal extended his arms and Renzo was on the edge. One of his silken slippers ripped itself off his foot and went flying into the paling sky. Renzo screamed. “Anatheret!”
Sal pulled Renzo back. Renzo opened his eyes. “Tanno Anatheret. I swear, Sal. I swear. He said the rebellion in that system was too much a destabilizing force to the rest of the Alliance and--”
Sal shook him. “If you’re lying, Renzo...” Sal left the threat unfinished. He found it much more effective that way. No known threat could match the unknown.
“I’m not lying, Sal. I’m not. I swear. I swear, Sal.”
Salazar tossed Renzo aside. He fell to the floor with a scream and a clatter of broken glass.
“They’re here, Cap!” the Kid called. Sal turned to see the Jessamine hovering into view. Her anterior access hatch swung open and Fish Belcom emerged from it with a heavy grappling cannon held over his shoulder. He fired, and a big magnetic grapnel launched from it, pulling behind it a corkscrewing line of cable. The grapnel hit the back wall of Renzo’s apartment. The chemical epoxy quick-bonded it to the wall with a hiss.
“All aboard.”
Sal waited as the Kid and the others latched their harnesses to the cable and zipped down onto the Jessamine’s roof one by one. Now that he was alone with Salazar, Renzo gathered a bit of courage.
“You’re in deep scuff now, Sal. The MOD don’t mess around with half-cred smugglers like you. He’s going to find out you know, and he’s going to unleash a whole mess of trouble on you.”
Sal ignored him, latched his harness to the cable and lifted his feet from the cushy carpeting of Renzo’s bedroom floor. The incline of the line dropped him down to the Jessamine in a flash of flying hair and snapping coattails. Sal plunged into the accessway, thumbed the control to release the cable and then closed the hatch. The torrential wind died in an instant and Sal was alone in the silent accessway, with Renzo’s words echoing after him.
Chapter Seventeen:
Evil Tidings
Nix stood in Dothin’s kitchen, watching the front door. For a minute he wondered if the invisible man had opened the door and let it close as a joke and was still there, standing in the flat. Maybe he’d snuck behind Nix and was breathing down his neck right now—
Nix spun. Of course, no one was there. He sighed, scratched his head and looked around the apartment as if expecting to see something that might spur him to action. What his eyes centered on was the door to his bedroom. He took a step in that direction, stopped, turned, marched in the opposite direction, then turned again. He paced back and forth like that for a while, getting closer and closer to the bedroom door.
Then he went inside. He sat at his desk for a minute, set his link in its slot and started checking the social media sights. But his eyes kept sliding to the closet door. Finally, after forcing his eyes to glance sightlessly at a block of text, Nix pulled his link from its place, stuck it in his pocket and stood up. He crept towards the closet door, not sure why he was creeping. His hand, shaking, approached the latch to the closet.
The doorbell rang. Nix jumped and uttered a voiceless grunt.
Nix groaned at himself, pulled his link and checked the door cam. It was Pattie. Nix was about to put the link back in his pocket when he noticed something off about her.
Of all the women Nix had known—not that there were many—Pattie was the most confident, the easiest going, the least anxious. But now. Pattie turned around and looked back and forth along the terrace. Her fingers fidgeted with her purse, bobbing it up and down. Her feet kept shuffling. She rang the doorbell again. Nix dropped the link in his pocket and ran to the front door and hit the control. The door slid open.
Nix couldn’t have seen it in the low-res door camera but now up-close and in real life he could tell she had been crying. Her eyes were still glossy and the flesh about them was red and puffy.
“Nix!” She took in a novel’s worth of breath, then tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “What happened to your eye?”
For a second Nix didn’t know what she was talking about. He remembered the doorbell and Gallo and it all came flooding back to him.
“My eye? Oh, my eye!”
“Void, Nix, what happened?” she reached out to touch it and Nix flinched away on instinct.
“No! It’s okay. There was a...a thing and I fell and...and I’m okay. Don’t worry. But, what happened to you?”
Pattie lowered her hand, straightened. Her face turned bleak again.
“I...” She seemed to struggle for words. So, Nix took over.
“Well, come in,” he said. He put a hand on her elbow to draw her to a seat at the kitchen table. “I’ll make you some coffee.”
Pattie nodded. “Coffee. Yes, I think I could use some coffee.”
Pattie’s wide-eyed stare told Nix she didn’t know what coffee was at the moment. Her expression, her mannerisms, turned his heart into jelly with each passing second.
Nix pulled a cup from the cupboard and set it under the dispenser, selected the brew Dothin usually made for Pattie, and watched as the cup filled.
“Do you like sugar or cream?”
“Just, just a little cream.”
Nix added the cream, brought the cup and handed it to Pattie. He sat down across from her and waited as long as he could, but the anxiety gnawed at him. Pattie blew on the cup and then took a sip. Her eyes continued to dart here and there, but as she took a second sip, and then a third, she relaxed.
“Pattie, what happened?”
Pattie put her cup down, looked at the table. Her eyes misted up again. She swallowed har
d. Nix felt his hand creeping to hers. He thought the contact might help her feel better, but he didn’t have the courage to do it.
Pattie looked at him. “Nix, I want you to understand that it’s going to be okay. I’m sure Dothin’s fine, and no matter what, you’re going to be okay.”
Nix shook his head. “I don’t understand. What happened?”
Pattie took a deep breath. “The governor’s palace on Eltar has been attacked.”
Nix’s mind worked to parse the information. He had no image or memory to connect with the pronouns so it took him a second. His eyes widened as revelation dawned.
“That’s where Dothin went.”
“I know,” Pattie said, and she had no compunctions about touch. She took his hand with her own and squeezed. Nix recoiled, stood up, rubbed his fingers through his hair.
“But...is Dothin on his way home yet? He’s not—”
“As far as I know he was there during the attack.” Nix felt a crushing finality in her use of the past tense. He was there but he’s not likely there anymore because he’s dead.
Nix shook his head. “No.”
“Nix—”
“No! Dothin is...” Nix began to hyperventilate. The room spun. He closed his eyes and that made the vertigo worse, so he opened them again.
Pattie stood up, approached him. Nix held his hands out in a limp defensive posture. She pushed past them and hugged him. Nix, eyes wide, kept thinking.
“Listen,” Pattie said after a moment. She took his shoulders and met him eye to eye. “Dothin is a lot tougher than he looks and he’s smart. If anyone can survive something like this, he can.”
Nix nodded.
“And...” her voice faltered. She swallowed hard and her eyes turned glassy again, but she kept her gaze on him. “And if the worst has happened, I promise you’ll be okay. I promise, Nix, that you’ll be okay.”
Nix nodded again. “Okay.”
For a long while the party, Gallo, even the invisible stranger and his bizarre artifact in the closet were all forgotten.
Remnant Page 19
