by Trevor Wyatt
“Do you want a drink?” the man said, taking his seat at the desk. In his hand was an expensive bottle of wine, a wine opener, and two glass tumblers.
Tira didn’t reply immediately. She analyzed the man, searching for weaknesses and strengths. She could already feel that this meeting was going to end in a fight; there was something about the man that told her he was toying with her, like a cat playing with a frightened mouse. She wanted to be ready. The way she saw it, she could either stand her ground and fight, or she could escape through the window—if it wasn’t reinforced with carbonite, that is.
And damn it, she didn't have her weapon.
The man must have taken her silence for trepidation because he said, “If I wanted you dead, I’d kill you with my bare hands and not use something as merciful as poison.”
The man spoke these words with such force and impudence that she could see a swirl of deep-seethed rage and hatred in his eyes, such as could poison the soul. This was a man that was capable of unspeakable horrors. This was a man not to be crossed. And if everything she’d heard of the Syndicate leader was true, this could very well be the man.
Instantly, Tira was genuinely afraid.
The man arched an eyebrow at her, bringing her out of her thoughts.
She cleared her throat and said, “I’m not afraid of poison.”
Right, Tira, who isn’t? Tira upbraided herself for such a weak reply.
“Good,” the man said. “Because I would hate for us to start off on a path of mistrust and deceit.”
He poured them both a drink. He handed her a glass and held back the other. Tira’s first thought was to wait for him to drink first to be sure there was no poison. But then, she realized that the man was waiting for her to drink first as well.
He’s smart, Tira said to herself as she brought the glass to her lips. Maybe smarter than you.
Tira sipped the wine. The tangy taste of grapes filled her senses, opening up synapses in her brain almost immediately. The feeling was so good that she indulged herself by closing her eyes and relishing its richness.
When she opened her eyes, they were filmy with tears.
The man was smiling. He took a sip of his drink, calming Tira’s fears, and said, “Good, right?”
“Very good,” she confessed. She took a look at the bottle. It wasn’t branded.
“Oh, don’t worry about getting it,” he said, once he noted her quizzical look. “It’s a special formula. Doesn’t exist anywhere else in the galaxy.”
“Hmmm,” Tira replied, taking a full swig of the drink. The result was instant. She was besieged with a flood of euphoria. It was so strong that she wavered on her seat.
“Be careful, Tira,” he said, his voice sounding distant and hollowed out. “Wouldn’t want you passed out in my office. Those guards may very well come back and make good on their promise.”
Tira pulled herself together. She placed the glass on the table and fought the effect of the drink. She hadn’t drank enough to become completely useless. It was just that the drink carried a sharp kick with it.
Within minutes, the effect of the drink cleared up from her eyes. The man was now silently sipping his drink and observing her. There was the hint of a smile on his lips.
Tira couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew more than he was letting on.
Who are you, really?
Tira held his gaze in the silence for a complete one minute before she was unnerved and had to look away.
“So,” she said. “You know my name. What’s yours?”
The man took another sip of his drink, this time loudly hissing as he did. “That’s of no consequence at the moment,” he replied.
“Isn’t it?” she asked, a bit baffled. “I deserve to know who I’m dealing with. How else will I know you’re the leader of the Syndicate if I don’t know your name?”
The man leaned in on his desk. “And tell me, Ms. Tira, who is the leader of the Syndicate? What’s his name?”
His. So it’s a man. At least I pulled that out of you, you fucker.
Tira folded her arms and frowned. “I admit I don’t know who runs the Syndicate. But I’m not going to negotiate unless I talk with him. I want an assurance.”
The man appeared intrigued by her. He smiled again, leaning back on his chair. He looked away from her and observed his glass, taking in the almost imperceptible intricate design on its surface. Then, he plucked it off the table where it had been sitting for the past one minute, and brought it to his lips.
Before he took a sip, he glanced at her and said, ever so slowly, “Assurance?”
Tira knew she should match his carelessness for one of her own. It was the best tactic to employ in situations like this. However, she had already established that she just might be dealing with someone smarter than her. She had to think outside the box.
The quickest thing she could think of was to abandon her training.
Yeah, that’s definitely outside the box…Tira thought to herself. Like, a thousand yards away from the damn box. It couldn’t get more outside than that.
“Assurances that whatever deal we make would be honored across the Syndicate,” Tira said. A thought popped up in her head and she eyed the man. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know you. You might very well be a middle man. I know how cutthroat things can be in organizations like the Syndicate. You may want to milk me for information, only to present them as yours to the boss and then kill me.”
The man was silent for a while, mauling over what Tira had said. Tira felt an avalanche of reasons why she needed assurance bubbling on the tip of her tongue. But she practiced restraint. She didn’t want to appear desperate. It was bad enough that her cover was her real identity.
The man finally nodded. “I agree you require assurance.”
Silence.
Tira said, “So? Are you going to prove to me you’re the leader of the Syndicate, or point me in the direction of the boss? Or are you just going to stare at me all day?”
“You really want to join the Syndicate?” the man asked with that irritating smile on his lips.
Tira growled, feigning frustration. “Look, sir, I didn’t come here to joke around. If the guards I put a bullet through won’t convince you, then what will?”
The man shrugged, like a few dead men was nothing too serious.
“Men come a dime a dozen,” he said, reinforcing his action. “I have an army at my beck and call. A few dead dumbasses don’t mean a thing.”
“Then what does?” Tira shot back, realizing how the man had sneakily cornered the conversation and turned the table such that she was the one with a point to prove and not him.
Fuck!
“A simple reason why you defected from the Terran Armada,” he replied.
Tira opened her mouth to speak, but the man raised a finger, silencing her.
“Don’t lie to me, please,” he said. “I’ll know. Tell me everything. What unit where you operating in? What was your job description? Why did you leave? Why do you want to join the Syndicate? Don’t tell me anything you’re not comfortable telling me, in case I don’t turn out to be who you’re looking for.”
“Shit, man,” Tira gasped. “Just fucking tell me if you’re the leader of the Syndicate.”
The man shook his head. “The Syndicate isn’t some piss poor organization. There are safe guards. There are vetting procedures. We don’t want people infiltrating our ranks. Surely, a Terran Armada officer such as yourself understands this.”
Tira immediately picked up on the allusion and replied. “Former officer,” she said with an emphasis on ‘former’.
The man flashed her a knowing smile. “Forgive me. Former Terran Armada Officer.”
Tira drew in a lungful of breath and told a very compelling story. In the time he had asked the question and now, she had composed a very impressive dossier on the average Intelligence operative.
She had enough information to do so in such a way that was original and provable—there
was no question he could ask that she couldn’t answer with her knowledge of the Terran Armada.
It was part of her training.
By the time she was done, she had both the man and herself convinced that she was a disgruntled, disillusioned and underpaid officer, who wanted out of the Armada and a quick way to make money.
“And what can you offer?”
“Flight paths,” she replied. “Flight plans. Coordinates. Secret projects. I have a whole stash of information that would benefit the Syndicate. I also have access codes, lots of them. Heck, I could probably get you into the Terran Armada Complex on New Washington or past any Armada blockade. I’m going to be a valuable member of the team, as long as I get paid and get rich while doing so.”
The man’s expression was impassive. Try as she did, Tira couldn’t read any emotion in his eyes. She wasn’t sure if he believed her or not. Earlier, he appeared intrigued by her. Now, there was nothing.
“So it’s all about the money for you?”
Tira didn’t reply for a moment.
Wasn’t it all about the money for these folks? She questioned herself. She had grown to believe that people who resorted to crime, especially organized crime, did it just to make money.
A light came on in Tira’s mind and she suddenly saw how she could get the information she needed. She struck swiftly.
“Isn’t that why you’re here?” she asked. “Isn’t it why you run one of the most dangerous organizations in the galaxy? Isn’t it all about the money?”
“No,” he replied, his façade descending into rage. He tried to hide it, but Tira knew she had hit a nerve. “Money isn't everything.”
Gotcha!
Tira arched her eyebrow and put up an amused smile on her face. “So, you run the Syndicate, after all?”
The reaction was immediate. The man suddenly realized how Tira had played him. A look of surprise at her appeared on his face. Seconds later, it vanished, being replaced by an amused smile.
“Congratulations,” he said with a clap. “You found me. The question is, do I want you? Do I have need of what you want to offer?”
Fuck you, too, Tira didn’t voice out. She stood up and casually walked over to the window, taking care to put as much distance between herself and the man.
“I think the question is, how much am I willing to accept?” she replied.
“I don’t—”
“Before you go on,” she cut him off. “Please refill my glass. I want some more.”
Tira didn’t look back at the man, but she could feel his angered eyes bore holes in the back of her neck.
As soon as she heard the chink of glass, she whispered, “Confirmed.”
The response came a second later, “Roger. We’re moving in. Stand by.”
Tira knocked the window. It was reinforced carbonite, and she knew she would have to fight the man.
Back at her seat, she took the wine and sipped at it. The man never let his gaze waver. He was giving her one of those intense stares, like he was looking through her and into her soul.
“So does the leader of the Syndicate have a name?” Tira said. “Or should I just call you leader?”
The man didn’t have the opportunity to respond, because almost immediately, there was commotion outside on the warehouse floor. Loud reports of gunfire followed by shouts blasted into the office.
Tira watched the man, ready to fly across the desk for his neck.
She was dismayed when he didn’t look shocked, nor appear uneasy.
He didn’t even bat an eyelid.
All he did was smile at her.
Chapter 16
Jeryl
“Tira’s capable of handling this, right?” Ashley asked rhetorically.
Jeryl knew that it wasn’t an actual question. It was just her way of dealing with the situation at hand, a situation where she was standing on the sidelines, waiting.
“If anybody’s going to be just fine, it’s Tira,” Jeryl assured her anyway.
The captain was carefully monitoring the situation as best as he could from his vantage point. He and Ashley were far too recognizable to join Tira and Jeremy, the smuggler turned Intelligence operative, on their sojourn into Syndicate headquarters.
All we can do is wait, Jeryl thought to himself.
He was holed up in the seedy bar where they had their first rendezvous with Jeremy, as it was the only place on this planet where he felt confident hanging out for the time being. His group had already established themselves as not the kind of people you mess with, and Jeremy had put in a good word for them as well.
Of course, if they knew we were here to put pressure on the Syndicate, they might not be so accepting of our presence, he thought.
At least Jeryl was able to track where Tira was. It allowed him to follow the situation from afar. She also had her comm device on her, naturally, so if she needed to get a hold of Jeryl, she could. Jeryl was ready to jump in to help her if she needed it: he had an elite team of marksmen, soldiers, and pilots at his disposal. The captain had sent a message up to The Seeker to alert his crew to be ready for a firefight. If violence was necessary—and with the Syndicate, it probably would be—Jeryl and his team were prepared.
Moreover, if The Ghost’s captain was here...Jeryl would take the chance.
For now, though, he was playing the waiting game. He wasn’t happy about it, but at least Ashley was there to keep him calm. Her presence was always a welcome one, even if it increased his worry in other ways. Though she was a tremendous pilot and more than capable of handling herself, she was, in his mind, first and foremost the future mother of his child.
Nothing bad will ever happen to her again, he swore, I will lay down my own life before I let any harm come to her.
Jeryl looked up at Ashley.
“We know Tira got in the building and she hasn’t sent me any messages, so she’s safe for now. She knows how to handle herself, and if they haven’t killed her yet, they probably aren’t suspicious.”
“That’s such a grim way of looking at it,” Ashley replied.
“True, but this is a grim situation,” Jeryl countered.
He hoped that Tira was able to get in good with the crew—it was their best chance of stopping the raids on the transport ship convoys. The Armada needed it. He remembered Flynn’s words: The Union can’t have one of its own ships being used by pirates.
Jeryl also had to admit that this was a personal matter. It’s more than just the fact that his own ship had been attacked by these pirates. If not for a well-timed FTL jump, The Seeker could’ve been lost like so many ships before it. The fact that the Syndicate, and its new mysterious leader, were using the The Ghost in their raids made his blood boil.
It made him think of Kaine. One in a long line of friends he had lost during the war. No, friend wasn’t strong enough of a word. The two men were practically brothers. They were incredibly close when Kaine and his ship were lost in the Earth-Sonali War.
Now his ship belongs to the pirates, he thought. Kaine’s memory deserves better than that. I’m going to get The Ghost out of the Syndicate’s hands. I don’t care what it takes.
Fortunately, his own desires aligned with Admiral Flynn and the Armada. They were all on the same page. Now, if Tira was able to infiltrate the Syndicate, the next step in the plan would start.
So he waited, his comm device clutched in his hand. He was able to follow everything that had been happening, and it would hopefully only be a matter of time.
Jeryl and Ashley waited patiently. Tira had been in her location for a little while at this point. She had to be in the Syndicate’s warehouse. Who was she meeting with? How much progress was she making? Jeryl wanted the answers to these questions as soon as possible. The waiting was getting to him. It was time to take the next step.
“I’m going to contact the ship and ask for my team to be sent down.”
“Are you sure?” Ashley replied.
Jeryl nodded, adding, “If things take a t
urn for the worst, we wouldn’t want to lose a second. I’m going to bring the team down now. Then we’ll approach Tira’s location and wait for her to contact me.”
“If you feel that is the best plan of action...then let’s do it,” Ashley responded.
Jeryl, comm device already in hand, called up to The Seeker.
“Send the team down in a shuttle. If we find our target, we’re going to attack once I get confirmation from Tira.”
The message was received, and in short order, a shuttle was sent down to the planet. Jeryl and Ashley took their leave, and they headed toward the rendezvous point, a piece of open ground close to the warehouse . The captain watched the shuttle arrive and went to greet it. His team, including the Hunter pilots, piled out of the ship. They all carried tactical gear and top-of-the-line rifles.
“Captain,” Powers said with a salute.
“I’m glad you’re all here. I have Tira’s location. We’ll head over there now, but be careful. We don’t want to lose the element of surprise,” Jeryl instructed his crew.
Everybody, except Ashley whose pregnancy left her omitted from a possible fight, began heading toward Tira’s location. As they made their way toward the outskirts of the town, they found themselves standing outside a non-descript, decrepit warehouse.
This must be the place, Jeryl thought.
“Secure the perimeter,” he declared, and his team followed his commands.
There were a few different entrance points to the warehouse, and he wanted to be sure they were all covered. Jeryl didn’t want anybody being able to escape. Suddenly, a message came over the comm device.
It was from Tira.
“Confirmed,” she said quietly.
Finally, a lucky break.
He acknowledged Tira and ran his tongue over his dry lips.
He had hoped that they’d be able to get inside the Syndicate and try and work their way up to finding the leader. To find out the leader was here, though, meant they could possibly take out the entire organization in one fell swoop. This made the plan clear. They needed to storm the building.
