by C. R. Daems
"Of course. Colonel Sherman did say the ACS would help if they could…"
"I doubt she meant by helping you smuggle drugs."
"There you go again, confusing the Central Systems with the Rim. Here smuggling is a major business enterprise."
"It's illegal."
"Sort of. If they didn't pretend it was illegal, bribes wouldn't be necessary and half the population would be unable to buy food for their families," I said with a pouty face. Even Jere choked on his coffee.
"The lives you will be impacting…" Kraig said in an emotional plea.
"The real question, Kraig, is whether the White Hand is a kinder and better system than the Black Hand, because you are never going to stop the use of recreational drugs."
"I guess you agree with Zen?" Kraig asked, looking at Jere. When he nodded, Kraig continued. "I'm off to bed to get drunk. Maybe then this will all make sense." He walked off carrying several bottles of beer and shaking his head.
"What do you think?" Jere asked as Kraig disappeared through the door.
"Don't know. He’s a black and white man—something is either good or evil. I'm more a hundred shades of gray type person."
* * *
The Customs Chief at Sidon insisted neither he nor his people took bribes—which meant he did and didn't plan on stopping. I thanked him for his time and left. Over the next two days I made stops at several places I knew dealt in drugs of one kind or another and put out the word. And while at the Big Top I negotiated delivering several poisons to Mrs. Wu. I left by the side entrance, a bit nervous, remembering the last time when two Black Hands had been waiting. I swore as three gun fighters stood some twenty paces ahead, and I knew two more were behind me, thanks to Shadi's alert.
"You've been a bad girl, Zen. You embarrassed some of our members," he was grinning, "and avoided your punishment. Very naughty."
"I think we should let her taste what's in those containers she's carrying to make sure she didn't pull the same stunt on us," said an excited male voice from behind me.
"Zen, those young boys with you can't be guards. Send them home, otherwise they are going to get hurt because you are coming with us, minus them." He gave a laugh. "Think you can survive five Black Hands in a gun fight?"
I sent Shadi an image of danger behind us and the one on the opposite side as her responsibility—thinking the one behind Shadi would be planning on killing her.
"All right, NOW!" I shouted and began drawing my Bahr as I spun around to the rear. As I turned I glimpsed a knife flash out of Ghale's hand and heard shots that meant the Black Hand had been ready and faster than I had anticipated. I stopped in shock. Shadi sat halfway to two men who were lying dead several paces in front of Jere. And when I looked over my shoulder, two of the Black Hands had knives protruding from their necks and the third looked have been hit twice from a Mfw. I felt stupid standing there, Mfw in hand, and the fight over. Even Shadi looked bored.
"I thought you were at the Tykhe?" I said feeling totally confused.
"And leave my Wanted Dead or Alive partner to wander the streets without me?" He smiled. “Thapa and Ghale are good. I was along only if your attacker planned a surprise attack."
"It wasn't a surprise and it was a scenario we had planned for—three in front and two or three in the rear."
"True, but I need the practice. Besides, that scenario is dangerous and could have resulted in Shadi or you being shot, and without you the White Hand won't exist." He shrugged. I had to concede his point. I was upset only because I was used to defending myself and the thought I couldn't or having to relinquish control was hard to accept.
"You're right. It's no longer a one-person operation." I nodded then turned to look at Ghale and Thapa, who were scanning the area. It was true, they did look like very young men and not seasoned fighters in their assortment of Jungle-Jim clothing.
"They come from hundreds of generations of soldiers. I think their mothers begin their training while they are nursing," Jere said, following my gaze. "They are dedicated and loyal and when you are ready they have a tribe of relatives who will join them."
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Star System: Dacca
"Why are we skipping Hohhot?" Kraig asked when he realized we were going directly to Dacca.
"Shadi and I want to visit friends," I said, grinning to myself. I needed information and Stanfield was the man who would have it.
"Knowing you there is more to it than that," Kraig said, giving me a stare.
"Zen is not the type to do anything without a reason and why she is still alive and independent,” Jere said.
"I would imagine you and she are a lot alike," Kraig said, frowning.
"Trustworthy, reliable, and ethical… Not the Central Systems ethics…but good ethics to live by," Jere said and bowed in my direction, "although I'll admit my ethics haven't been as good as hers."
"You two insist on thinking smuggling is ethical." Kraig shook his head as if to clear it.
"As ethical as using what is being smuggled," Jere replied with a grin. "Drugs are considered illegal on an arbitrary basis, otherwise alcohol would be on the list—it's addictive, mind and mood altering and, in addition, it's bad for your health. Using drugs is a victimless crime, just like drinking alcohol."
"I feel like I'm in an alternate universe," Kraig mumbled. "In the Central Systems it's against the law, you go to jail, and everyone considers it wrong. In the Rim it's against the law, you can go to jail if caught, and everyone considers it acceptable."
"You finally understand it, Kraig," I quipped. "Mostly you get fined and maybe a short jail sentence which you can buy your way out." I laughed and was joined by Jere, the Gurkhas, and eventually Kraig.
* * *
The customs inspection at Dacca was routine as I had some legal deliveries. The Chief was taking a wait-and-see approach since I'd wager he and his agents derived a substantial income from bribes, which they wouldn't like to lose, even though I doubted they liked the Black Hand. Rumor had it that agents had been killed or otherwise coerced for refusing to be bribed. I left the Gurkhas on the Tykhe and rented a skimmer for Kraig, Jere, and me after getting Stanfield's agreement to see me.
"He has a lot of security for a man living so far from civilization," Kraig said when we exited the skimmer. Two guards met and escorted us to the main house, a couple guards could be seen walking around the grounds, and two more were in the house when we entered, who led us to Stanfield.
"Good day, Zen. It's a pleasure to see you and Shadi. I'm afraid Tiri is still roaming the mountains," he said, appraising Jere and Kraig. "I see you brought the notorious Hunter and your AIA friend."
"Did you tell him—" Kraig began but I interrupted. Jere stood evaluating Stanfield.
"No, I didn't tell him anything about you or Jere. I've found that Mr. Stanfield is a very well-informed man.
"No, Zen would not share anyone's secrets without their permission, which is the reason she is respected by all that know her." He nodded toward me. "What can I do for you, Zen?"
"We could go someplace private…"
"It's not necessary. Kraig and I are in the same business and Jere already knows what I do. So what can I do for you?"
"I’d like to know how the Black Hand is organized. I'll pay what you want for the information," I said, thinking he would know names, for which I was willing to pay.
He laughed. "The rumors are already circulating that you’re going against the Black Hand. Most think you are crazy and won't live to see your next birthday. Since you are too ethical to join them you have no choice if you intend to stay in the Rim. They must kill or kidnap and punish you, or lose credibility as well as revenue." He paused when an unarmed man entered the room. "Alonso, would you bring an assortment of snacks for my guests and get them whatever they would like to drink."
Alonso nodded and looked to me.
"Coffee," I said, followed by Coffee by Jere and Kraig.
"Zen, for anyone else the inform
ation would be worth several hundred thousand credits or more, depending upon who and why. Although, if this information helps you destroy the Black Hand, it's going to cost me a significant piece of my income, for you it's free. Why?" He paused to take a sip of the drink he had in front of him. "I pride myself on being ethical in the information I provide—"
"You provide information to killers like the Black Hand and other criminals. How can that be ethical?" Kraig interrupted, still trying to understand the Rim.
"Major Douglass Bratcher, Alexander Intelligence Service agent, that high horse you are attempting to mount is a Shetland pony. The ACS tortures people to obtain information. I pay for my information. The ACS feels free to kill people that they feel threaten the government. I don't hire or employ contract killers. The ACS would have imprisoned Zen if she hadn't cooperated, although she had committed no crime against the ACS. I don't make up false information. And I exercise some discretion in what information I share and who I share it with. For example, I did not share the information that Zen had an AIA agent aboard to the Tykhe. My ethics, like the Hunter’s and Zen's, may not coincide with the ACS, but I believe they are at least as honorable."
"I apologize, Mr. Stanfield. I’m afraid I'm guilty of judging everything and everyone by the ACS laws and standards, and I'm beginning to see that isn't possible. Zen is a good example. She's a smuggler and, by ACS standards, she's a criminal and maybe even an evil person, but she isn't and doesn't support evil."
"We aren't perfect, Kraig, but we aren't evil." Stanfield stopped as Alonso entered the room with a cart that had our coffee and an assortment of appetizers.
"There are three men who rule the Black Hand with an iron fist. In a sense they have the Rim divided among them. They each have their own lieutenants but they each fanatically guard their contacts and resources so that no one can take over their operation by killing them. Their successor has to be appointed by the three, or two if the third is dead. On Dacca it's Carlo de Chelli who owns the Painted Horse. On Samxor it's Hadar Bishan who owns the Haven Club, and on Plata it's Marco Hoch who owns the Valhalla Club. If you can take out those three, I believe the organization will eventually collapse."
"Why?" Kraig asked the same question I had.
"The lieutenants would fight for control but without the leader they could at best hope to control but a small part of the original. They would lose most of the smuggling business and have insufficient revenue to support a large organization. They would be left with small groups of criminals the authorities would target because of the nature of their crimes: kidnapping, sex trafficking, murder for hire, etc. You won't eliminate violent crime but I believe you will significantly reduce it and is the reason I'm willing to support you."
"Thank you, Richard. I too will settle for that," I said, believing I not only had a chance of defeating the Black Hand but of delivering the required retribution.
* * *
"What now, Zen?” Jere asked.
"I thought I'd like to visit the Painted Horse," I said. Jere and Kraig frowned.
"I could visit Carlo…" Jere suggested, confirming he was on occasion an assassin.
"No. I don't want any of you hurt but I also don't want to resort to Black Hand tactics. Let's try surprise. He won't expect a visit so hopefully he won't be prepared."
Jere departed an hour before Ghale, Thapa, and I left, stating surprise was a good idea. I insisted Kraig stay on the Tykhe to ensure no one tried to sabotage it. I felt he would be more capable there than in a shootout—he knew how to shoot but wasn't a trained gunfighter. I rented a van to take the three of us and Shadi to the club. The building was located between the city center and the poorer side of the town. The Painted Horse Club stood alone on a four or five acre lot and was surrounded by small businesses. The building looked to be cement and the front had a mural of twenty or so life-size horses of various breeds—painted, Appaloosa, Pintabian, and others—running across the building’s entire length. There were no guards at the entrance, but inside one man sat watching the door and an arched entrance into the main room. He said nothing to us but spoke into a mic to someone as we passed him. Inside was a semicircle bar with comfortable leather stools with back rests. The bar faced into an area where at present a semi-naked woman was riding a black and white Falabella. Overhead monitors had close-ups of the woman and the horse and in the bottom was a box with numbers… I suddenly realized they weren't interested in the horse—they were bidding on the woman. Two more men with sheriff’s badges were stationed at the entrance to a hallway, and two at the stairs to a balcony where there were a few tables and booths. I walked over to the stairs. As I approached, the men's hands rested on the butts of their Mfws, their stances shifted slightly, and they looked more alert.
"Tell Mr. de Chelli, Zenaida's here to talk with him," I said when I was within three steps of him. The young man spoke into his head mic, then nodded.
"Mr. de Chelli said you can go up but the cat and the kids stay down here." He gave me an amused smile.
"Tell Mr. de Chelli, I'll leave my security downstairs if that will make him less nervous, but my companion comes with me. She's non-allergenic and house-trained."
The young man hesitated, not sure whether he was supposed to defend his boss’s honor or be the messenger of a message he wasn't going to like.
"Tell him," the older guard sneered, but he looked amused. The younger man relayed the message and grimaced at the response.
"Mr. de Chelli said to let her and the cat come up." That was probably a very abbreviated version of what de Chelli had said. Ghale and Thapa wandered off to the side of the stairs while surveying the room and, I’d wager, while identifying each potential threat. At the top of the stairs I identified de Chelli from Richard's description: a wiry bald man with a head and face full of tattoos. A deadly fighter with a Mfw or knife and a psychopath who loved toying with his victims. He was sitting in a semicircular booth with another older man and four naked women who were smiling sweetly but looked nervous. I passed a table with four men, obviously personal security. As I did the room became quiet.
"Well, Zenaida, have you decided to join us or are you here to sell the Tykhe to us and spend your life fucking for your daily drugs?" Carlo said loudly, his voice dripping with scorn.
"I'd love to join the Black Hand if we can agree on my position in the organization."
"Your position is to do what you are told, bitch. Beginning right now," He snarled, pushing the two women on the end out of the booth as he slid to stand. I had one of Clyde's flash gadgets in my hand and, using my thumb and forefinger, had depressed the two plates in preparation. Releasing the pressure would activate the ball within two seconds. I heard chairs moving and assumed the four guards behind me were rising to stand. The other man sitting in the booth didn't move but had an amused expression on his face.
"I guess that means we go to plan B," I said, released the depressed levers, and threw it up and to my right while covering my eyes with my arm and diving to my left, where Shadi lay curled with her paws over her eyes. I’d hoped throwing the ball right would be a momentary distraction while I went left. Even with my arm covering my eyes I knew the room had exploded in a sunburst of light before I hit the floor. A second later the room erupted in automatic fire from multiple Mfws. I forced myself to keep my eyes covered as I counted to six. The seconds seems like minutes as the firing slowed to a few sporadic shots. When I rolled over and opened my eyes only two men of the four at the table were standing, Carlo lay sprawled on the booth's table, and his friend on the seat, along with two women. The two men standing were swiveling their Mfw toward any sound and shooting. I shot them both in the head and rose to survey the carnage. Since I had been in between Carlo and the table with the four guards, it looked as if Carlo had begun spraying the area where I had been standing as soon as the flash blinded him. When the four came under fire they returned fire and shot Carlo, his friend, and the remaining women in the booth. Looking down over the raili
ng, I saw Ghale, Thapa, and Jere standing and surveying the room. Everyone else was either lying on the floor dead, or with hands covering their heads, curled in a fetal position.
"I guess that means Carlo wasn't amenable to you being in charge," Jere said loud enough to be heard. Judging by Jere's current attire, he had been one of the men at the bar bidding on the woman on the horse. I could see why Jere was named the Hunter.
* * *
"Where to now, Samxor or Plata?" Jere asked, but Kraig interrupted before I could answer.
"I'm uncomfortable going to kill these men, even though I know they are evil. How does it make us any different from them?"
"Good point, Kraig. If I were in charge of a government agency, I would say it was for national security or a preemptive strike to avoid them attacking us at home. And although they are hunting me to kill me, it's not my intention to kill them. It's to face them directly and preclude them killing me in a surprise attack. In fact, I'm proposing they join me as partners," I said, which caused Kraig to jump up, spilling his beer over him, the chair, and the floor. "You can't! They are evil."
I'm willing to let them join the White Hand as partners if they understand I'm the boss and make the rules. I had planned to make Carlo that exact offer but he declined my offer and was preparing to kill me. I had no choice but to defend myself and Shadi." I smiled, remembering Shadi lying curled up on the floor, covering her eyes.
Kraig nodded. "So you aren't going there to kill them but you are prepared to do just that," he said, frowning.
"It's Rim Basic Survival 101. Let me ask you, Kraig. What would you, a Central Systems citizen, do under similar circumstances?"
Kraig sat silently for a long time. I was content to wait as I was curious. Eventually he laughed. “The police could do nothing without proof. If I had proof I could go to court to get a restraining order against him. In other words, nothing."
