by Ryan McCall
“That may be,” said Cini Harrow, he had been leader of the Socialist Action Group before bringing them into Victors camp. “But now the Blackwatch has an excuse to harass us whenever they want. What about when the election comes around? How’s it going to play when people hear you’re tied to a terrorist? And in the middle of a war too. Not the patriotic image a council candidate needs to get into office.”
Victor had thought hard about this while walking back from the station. It was a tough decision, he was between a rock and a hard place, but in the end he had made the only choice he could live with.
“Which is why, I want you and all of your members to know that information regarding Robert Argyll and his extremist faction is to be passed on to the watch.”
“What!”
“Turn in one of our own?”
“You can’t be serious?”
Victor held up his hand to silence the protests of outrage. “Enough!” he shouted. “I don’t like it any more than the rest of you, but we don’t have a choice. Robert has gone too far this time. Do you know how many were killed in this bombing?” They shook their heads.
“Forty eight. Most of them were good, working folk like us. And for what? To shut down the plant for a month?”
“I did hear that he managed to hit the Mordain boy,” said Anna Craig, a young woman who had been in the LRC for several years and had exceptional organization skills.
“Yes, I heard that too,” said Cini. “But he isn’t dead. They took him up to Flag Memorial Hospital.”
Victor tried to steer the conversation back on topic. “In any event, make sure you spread it around. Robert Argyll and his people are not to be aided or given refuge. We have other issues to deal with. The new emperor is a weak old man and Minister Blake and Minister Kao are taking advantage of the opportunity to push more of their dictatorial agenda through.”
“Agreed,” said Appius Arturius. “Kao’s trying to push through a war industry bill that will take away half of the rights I’ve fought for my union.” Appius was an old Estaran with a weathered face and a shock of pure white hair that he let grow out in a messy bush. He represented the Factory and Dock Workers Union, the biggest union in the empire.
“Don’t get me wrong, if anything the war has improved our work load and conditions. All of my members are getting more hours than ever and the factories are taking on more workers. Not to mention being offered higher wages. But if that conservative old drakon has his way, he’ll make it so we lose our right to strike or even complain. Fucking bastard would make the unions illegal in the name of the war if thought he could get away with it. Try to smear us with being unpatriotic or some shit like that.”
Victor was torn on this issue, much like the leadership of the collective. No one wanted to be seen as against the war, not when the entire empire was baying for Galrian blood in the name of the late emperor.
He even believed that the corporations would improve conditions for their workers, if only so they could keep production on a war footing. But he didn’t want to see the corporate business interests use the war as an excuse to undo all of the hard work the socialists and unions had achieved over the last few decades.
“No way Marawn will try that. The big businesses won’t let him. Right now, they need us too much,” he said. He scratched his cheek, feeling the thick stubble there. He had been so busy the last few days that he had not had time to shave. “Besides, Patrick has been getting support from councilors that aren’t too fond of Blake and Marawn. I expect they’ll listen to me if I get elected.”
“Speaking of that. You need to head back upstairs. Eileen MacCuinn is still waiting,” said Anna.
“She is? Dammit Anna, you should have said something before we started talking. She’s waited long enough if she’s been here since I was dragged away.” Victor pushed out his chair and went upstairs. Inside his room, Eileen was calmly seated in the same chair as when he’d left. She was sipping a hot cup of coffee.
At the sound of him entering she turned her head slightly. “Victor?”
“Yes,” he replied. “But you didn’t have to wait for me. We could have finished this tomorrow.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” replied Eileen. “Besides it gave me an opportunity to get to know your people. It was insightful, our two groups share a lot of values.” She set her cup down on his desk and adopted a slightly more formal tone. “Victor, I agree with what you said earlier. We need to work together if we are going to bring about real reform. You have the support of myself and my group for your election.”
Victor smiled. “Thank you Eileen. I appreciate it.”
“However, I need something in return,” she stipulated. “I want a promise from you that you will support me when I attempt to make a run into a councilor position.”
He had been expecting this. The Women’s Alliance had been the leading front for women’s suffrage. Women he been granted the right to vote twenty years ago, now the Alliance was concentrating on getting a representative in the government. It was an ambitious step but no more so than what he wanted.
“Of course,” he replied. “I believe that the more diversity we have in the Alkon government, the more fair and equal it will be for everyone.” She would know what he meant. Unless you were born into the right family it was hard to increase your station.
Not to mention the preferential treatment that the empire’s skylords always received simply due to perception. Nostalgia for the fallen Cartral Empire drove part of that perception, while more came from the skylord overrepresentation in financial business. The final part came from the misguided connection to the famed Artropia. It did not matter that not a single skylord in the Alkon Empire had anything to do with Artropia.
Alkon skylords traced their ancestry to scattered survivors of The Dark. They had formed small communities in what would later become Cair Rathais; but they retained no trace of their Cartralan culture unlike their racial brethren in Artropia. The Artropians still considered themselves as Cartral and if the rumors were true, had managed to preserve much of their history and culture.
Victor didn’t deny that they were capable people, but he wanted the working class members of other races to have a chance to reach the positions that skylords were given.
“In that case Victor, I will say good night. I look forward to seeing you in a councilor’s seat.” Eileen stood up and picked up her walking staff. She left his room, the sound of her staff tapping the ground, echoing in the staircase. In spite of her disability she was going to try achieving something even more difficult than his goal. She was a capable woman, he had no doubt she would succeed.
Chapter 66
Fiona studied the telegram for a long time. She saw what Director Talmach was actually trying to say to her. I knew he wouldn’t pull us off this.
The telegram officially informed her and Kendrick to wrap up their investigation and begin pursuing counter-intelligence activities in Longhaven relating to the war. Essentially they would be rooting out Galrian spies and sympathizers.
She thanked the telegraph clerk and threw him a two crown note as a tip. Tel had advised her to do this with service based businesses in Longhaven. It would ensure she would be seen as a preferred customer. Preferred, meaning that the businesses wouldn’t try to swindle her or use information against her.
That did not concern her. As an agent of Imperial Intelligence, there was little anyone in this rat-hole of city could use against her. But she wanted to keep a low profile and Tel had convinced her playing along with the city’s more corrupt practices was the best way to do so.
Arriving back at the hotel room they were currently occupying, she handed the telegram to Kendrick and gave Tel a look of annoyance. “We’re to move on from the case” she said. “The director wants us on counter-intelligence. Tel, you’re to return to your regular role as a financier. Kendrick and I will need to draw on funds if we’re going to conduct counter-intelligence here.
She glanced over at
Kendrick. He had finished reading the telegram and gave her a discrete nod. He had worked out what the encoded telegram said faster than she had.
“Of course you are,” replied Tel. “I’m not surprised the director is stopping this either. Waste of fucking time. You’ll never reach the Arm, not like this. What you did to that girl…” Tel shook his head in horror, as if trying to rid himself of the memory.
Fiona had tortured the captured assassin for several hours. Kendrick had known what to expect, so hadn’t been bothered. Even he knew what could be required in order to protect Alkos.
But Tel was different. The elf was only an external consultant for Imperial Intelligence and had not been exposed to the nastier sides of the business. After seeing what Fiona had done to the assassin, he had cursed and run from the room. When Fiona came out of the room, he had still been emptying his guts over the floor.
“You didn’t have to stay with us,” she said. “I did warn you that I was going to do whatever was necessary to get information from her.”
He slapped his hand against the wall in frustration at her rationale. “And I told you that the Arm don’t break that easily. But you had to go ahead and torture her to death.”
Fiona planted herself on the soft mattress of the nearby bed. “It worked didn’t it? She gave up what she knew.”
“Oh what? A fucking address that may or may not be an Arm safe house. Three weeks sitting on it and we haven’t seen the slightest bit of activity. Face it Agent Badenoch, she played you even after everything you did to her. If she had broken, she would have given up a lot more than single address. Not to mention that it wouldn’t even matter now even if it had led us to the Arm. We’re at war, no captured assassin is going to stop that.”
In that Fiona was in complete agreement with. If they caught an assassin today and sent them giftwrapped to the capital, it would not undo the damage. The Galrians had committed unforgiveable crimes in the eyes of most Alkons. The war would play out in full, no matter what their investigation uncovered.
Tel walked over to the set of drawers, peeled off a piece of paper and scribbled something. When he finished, he flung it at Fiona and it landed in her lap. He had written down his name, a bank, and a line numbers.
He pointed at the piece of paper with the pencil. “If you need to draw more funds, go to the nearest branch of the Arketh Commerce Bank. Use my name and that account number. It’ll give you access to the money I get from winnings. I don’t want anything more to do with this.”
He turned his back to them and exited the room. Fiona glanced at the paper and memorized the details before stuffing it into her holder with the rest of her documents. She looked over at Kendrick, who was lying on his back, his shoulders and head resting against the beds’ headboard. “He was never up for this. Not for the side that we have to deal with,” she said.
Kendrick shifted slightly, so he could angle himself to talk to her. ‘I’m surprised. I would have thought living in this city for as long as he has would have inured him to violence and bloodshed.”
“This is city is brutal, but it’s a simplistic brutality at best. Nothing more than thugs and fraudsters squeezing as many coins as they can out of each other.” She tipped her head slightly and brushed her hair behind her ear. An annoying habit she had never been able to shake. “Except for the Arm of Assassins. Like us, they move in the dark and hidden places of the world; far more complex and subtle than the brutes of this city could understand. We can’t be bound by the black and white thinking Tel maintains. Better that he’s out of it.”
“For more than just that,” replied Kendrick. He picked up the telegram and scanned it again. “The director wants us to keep at the Arm of Assassins, but pretend to carry out counter-intelligence in the city. It’s a flimsy excuse for us to stay here. What use would Galrian spies have in Longhaven? The city has little strategic or military value. Hells they’d be doing us a favor if they sacked the place. It would save us the trouble of doing it.”
She rolled her eyes at his comment, but he wasn’t half wrong. Longhaven had gone to the scum long ago and she had yet to see any redeeming qualities the city may have.
“So where do we go from here?’ he asked.
“Tel was right. The safe house is useless,” said Fiona. “Even if it’s true, it’s clear they’re not using it at the moment. What we need is a more direct route. And I think after today I have it.”
“Oh?” Kendrick raised his eyebrows in curiosity.
“I have information about the location of a master assassin; his home address.”
“How in the hells did you get that?” asked Kendrick in in surprise.
“Tel isn’t the only operative Imperial Intelligence has in Longhaven. I had to ask the director’s permission to even approach this source.”
“So why didn’t we do that from the start?” asked Kendrick, understandably frustrated.
“I suspect it’s tied up with why he has to give the appearance of taking us off this,” she said. “Someone above the director pushed for him to stop the investigation and he became suspicious. So he gave me the go ahead to tap a source directly inside the Arm.” She let Kendrick absorb the enormity of that.
“Inside the Arm?” His voice was full of disbelief and rising in volume. “You’re telling me the director has someone undercover in the Arm of Assassins.”
Kendrick was intelligent but he could act stupidly at times. “Keep your voice down,” she urged. “Anyone could be listening from the walls of this city. And in answer to your question, yes, he does. He couldn’t risk approaching them without risking their cover.”
“And in the meantime Galria sucker punches us with a sneak attack.”
Fiona put her hand up and rubbed her eyes. “No one saw that coming, not even Director Talmach, even with his agents in Urdov. If this were to be discovered the Arm could declare war against Imperial Intelligence.”
“So why did he finally decide it was worth the risk?” asked Kendrick. He had calmed down now. He was satisfied with the information, though Fiona had not told him the entire truth yet. It was best if he thought all of this came from the director.
She shrugged. “He didn’t say and I didn’t ask. You know how it is. But if I had to guess I would say it’s because he smells something that he doesn’t like. Same as I have, ever since the assassination of Rossiv.”
“What are you talking about?”
This was why she was a senior agent and Kendrick was still only a junior. “Don’t you find it odd that the Arm was contracted for a political assassination? Not to mention how easy it was for them to access to the exact place and time to carry it out.”
“You’re saying…” he left the rest unsaid, finally beginning to understand.
She nodded. “Yes I am. There may be a faction within the imperial government that had a hand in this.”
Kendrick sat up now and pulled his legs over the bed, planting his bare feet on the floor. “Shit,” he said, shaking his head. “So how do we handle this?”
“Very fucking carefully,” replied Fiona. “With everything happening right now under the Minister Blake and his war effort we can’t bring attention to ourselves. Not until we have the full story of who hired the Arm and for what purpose.”
Kendrick clasped his hands together and clicked his tongue. “And when we find this assassin, what then? The last one didn’t give us much and she wasn’t on the level of a master if she was hired to kill a low-level target like that factory manager. We’ll only have more trouble trying to get something out of anyone higher up the ladder.”
Fiona had thought long and hard about this matter. Clearly members of the Arm would not break. They were trained not to fear death. A different approach would be required.
“We use magic to get what we need,” she stated.
Kendrick looked at her like she was a lunatic. He knew exactly what she meant with that statement. “Are you insane?!” he spluttered. “It goes against every law of magic that a
ll mages swear by. And it isn’t the same as physically torturing someone. By all accounts getting secrets out of someone’s head is the metaphysical equivalent of cracking open an egg. They’ll end up a gibbering idiot or an empty shell. Hells Fiona, can we cross that line?”
She didn’t say anything, merely kept her face serious. Kendrick didn’t have the stomach for this either. She was beginning to wish he had left with Tel.
“Neither of us could do it without an insanely powerful magical artifact. If such a thing even exists. Who do you plan on getting this mental magic done for us?” he asked.
“We search,” replied Fiona. “I’m sure a city such as Longhaven has its share of amoral, unscrupulous mages. We search until we find someone willing to do it.”
“Hells be damned,” muttered Kendrick.
“Can you think of another way to get to the Arm?” she asked him.
“Not right now. But shit Fiona, I sure as hell don’t want to end up on the wrong end of something like this. Didn’t you hear what happened to the archmage of Warded Spirals a few months ago?”
She had, but this was different. They only needed it the one time. If the situation truly became problematic they could always eliminate the mage. “This is nothing like that. Unless you have a device in that bag of yours that can replicate the effects of mental magic, I plan on doing this. Are you with me or not?”
He let out a deep breath. “I’m with you.”
She smiled. “Good. Now all we have to do is find a mage who is the right combination of greedy and careful.”
Chapter 67
Luthais’ hospital bed was in the largest room on the top floor of the Flag Memorial Hospital. Tegan had ensured he was cared for by the best nurses and had the best doctor. She was sitting in the uncomfortable chair next to his bed, holding his undamaged left hand. His hand was warm and dry, but he had not stirred an inch the entire time she had been here.
