“What’s wrong with Scimitar?” Robson said.
“It’s unnecessary,” de Villiers shot back.
“Says who?”
“Me.”
“No logo, no T-shirts, no leader. Isn’t that how it works?” Robson said sourly. “We’re all supposed to be autonomous, right?”
“We are autonomous,” de Villiers said.
Robson gave him a fake smile. “Except when you’re calling the shots, right, De?”
“If you had two brain cells to rub together I wouldn’t need to step in so often, Robson.”
“Do you actually have more than one cliché rattling around in your head, or do you just keep recycling the same saying over and–”
“Knock it off, you two,” Jovanovic said, and the two men glowered at each other but fell silent. She looked at Duran again. “These two might seem like knuckleheads, but they’re good at what they do.”
“Which is what?” Duran said.
“I’m the guy who opens the doors around here,” Robson said with a certain degree of pride. He swept a hand toward the terminal. “I’m the guy you call ‘Switch’. I see and hear everything, and I can get you in and out of whatever you need.”
“How do you manage that?” Duran said.
“I used to work in Enforcer security. Spent most of my time in the back of the data centre, pulling hard drives and resetting passwords. All of that boring shit.”
“So you still have access to their system? Why wasn’t your password revoked when you left the Enforcers?”
Robson shrugged. “They thought they shut down my accounts, but I left myself a few back doors here and there.”
“So what can you access?”
Robson turned back to the terminal. “We’ve tapped into most of the cameras around the Reach. In fact, we own almost as many as the Enforcers do now. Their techs think the hardware is breaking down. Sure, that’s true in some places, but a lot of them have just been patched out of their system and into ours.”
Duran thought of the conversation he’d had with Parnell in the Enforcer security office, about how many cameras had gone offline, and it all began to make sense. It wasn’t just natural attrition that was robbing the Enforcers of their systems. They also had this Robson guy eating away at their insides like a parasite that was slowly consuming their most vital organs.
“What about the rest of you?” Duran said.
“I’m on data analysis,” Jovanovic said, “building dossiers on targets and figuring out their movements.”
“So you give the kill orders?”
“No one person gives the kill orders,” Zoe said. “We work through the dossiers together. We decide as a group who to watch and what actions should be taken.”
Duran looked expectantly at de Villiers, who took another slice of apple in his mouth.
“I’m just a gun,” de Villiers said. “Point and shoot. I was a sniper while I was wearing the black. Best one in the Reach.”
“He’s a field operative,” Zoe said. “Just like me.”
Duran pulled himself up and straightened his back.
“Yeah, I get it. You can stop explaining now.”
De Villiers sneered. “A true mental gymnast in our midst, ladies and–”
“Shut up,” Zoe snapped. “What do you mean, Alec?”
“I understand. Let me tell it back to you, and you stop me when I’m wrong.” He looked at each of them again. “You guys sit in your little rat hole down here, watching through your little window on the world, picking and choosing the people you’d like to pop. That would include those who piss you off, or who you find would be convenient to have out the way. Execution by committee, right?”
“The system has failed, Alec,” Zoe said. “We’ve created something that isn’t mired in the corruption and the failures of what came before. We’re the only chance this place has for any kind of true justice. Why wouldn’t you want to be a part of that?”
“Because when I joined the Enforcers I swore to do a job–”
“And that job is to serve justice,” Zoe said, rounding on him. “Something the Enforcers themselves have forgotten. If you can’t see that, then…” She faltered. “Maybe I was wrong about you.”
Duran pressed his lips together. “Yeah. Looks that way.” He turned and began to push past her, back out into the corridor.
“So that’s it?” Zoe said, her voice thick with disappointment. “You’re just going to walk away?”
“Thank you for your help. I appreciate that. But I can’t buy into what you’re selling.”
He shuffled a few more steps before he heard her follow him out into the corridor.
“Javier Deimona,” Zoe called after him bitterly. “Know the name?”
Duran stopped and turned his head sharply, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. He thought back to the chase in Juncture Nine the morning that Knile Oberend had returned to the Reach, how he’d chased Deimona through the dark alleyways and then eventually taken him down on the rooftop.
“Of course. What about him?”
Zoe stood defiantly, hands on her hips. “Seen the autopsy report yet?”
Her eyes were hard and direct, like she was trying to nail him to the wall with her stare.
“No.”
“You be sure to look into that,” she said acidly. “Take a real good look at it, Alec.”
He turned back to her. “What are you on about?”
“You’re going to see something unexpected on that report.” She smiled without humour. “You’ll see that it wasn’t a forty-calibre round that went through his chest on that rooftop.”
Duran’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
“It wasn’t a bullet from your pistol that took down Deimona,” Zoe said. “Did you really believe you made that shot?”
Duran thought of the moment he’d pulled the trigger on that rooftop, the amazement that he’d felt after he’d made the shot. A miracle shot. He remembered Deimona falling, then a few minutes later seeing him lying on the dimly-lit street with a hole in his chest.
That moment had been Duran’s salvation. It had restored his self-belief. For Zoe to intimate that the victory had not really been his was incredibly galling.
Duran advanced on her, the coasters on the IV stand squeaking, his cheeks flushed. He wasn’t sure if he was feeling embarrassment, anger, or a mixture of the two.
“Are you telling me that you took down Javier Deimona?”
“I told you I’d been watching you,” Zoe said. “I’d been watching Deimona, too. I couldn’t let him get away. I had him in my scopes and I took the shot.”
“You shot Deimona,” Duran said, his voice full of disbelief, but at the same time a part of him knew that what she said could be true. He’d been shocked at the time that he’d made the shot. Disbelieving. It made sense that a sniper had been involved.
“You can thank me later,” Zoe said, her tone scathing. “Just chalk it up as another thing you owe me for.”
“Wait a minute–”
“But let’s not draw this out any longer than we have to,” she said, striding past him. “I’ll take you to the entrance and you can go on your way.”
“Uh, guys?” Robson’s voice came from inside the room, his voice uncertain. “You really need to see this.”
The two of them looked at each other for a moment, and then both headed for the entrance to the room. When Duran arrived the others had already clustered around the terminal. Robson had brought up a video feed that filled the entire screen with the face of Commissioner Prazor.
“Enforcers, I have troubling news,” the old man said. “This morning I have been contacted by the Consortium with an official complaint.”
Duran’s heart sank. He could see what was coming.
“They have advised me that yesterday evening, just before seven p.m. local time, an Enforcer was sighted in the Atrium. I don’t have to tell any of you that this is highly illegal behaviour for anyone within our ranks, even me. It is a s
tipulation of the Consortium that no Enforcer shall set foot inside the Atrium unless explicitly instructed to do so by an authority of the Consortium.”
Robson glanced over his shoulder at Duran, wincing.
“Ouch,” he said.
“Furthermore, this Enforcer was not only in possession of a firearm but also tried to use it on civilians and the Crimson Shield who were present. I condemn this behaviour. It is totally unacceptable, and I have been tasked by the Consortium to conduct a full investigation into how and why this incident took place.”
Prazor’s face slid to one side of the screen and a still image of another man appeared next to it: Alec Duran.
“The Enforcer’s name is Inspector Alec Duran and he is believed to still be at large. As of this moment I am revoking Inspector Duran’s rank and privileges, and issuing a warrant for his arrest. If you encounter Inspector Duran, I want him taken into custody and brought before me immediately so that I can interview him personally.
“Let me repeat this so that my intentions are perfectly clear. Alec Duran is now a fugitive. He needs to be found and–”
“Turn it off,” Duran said. Robson glanced back at him again, unsure, then reached out for the keyboard and dismissed the video.
No one spoke.
Duran suddenly felt overwhelmed by fatigue again. By hopelessness. His life seemed to be reeling from one calamity to the next. With his strength failing, he wasn’t sure how long he could even hold himself up.
“Looks like even your friends have turned on you, Alec,” de Villiers said finally. “And I don’t know if they’re interested in your side of the story.”
12
The holophone in the corner of the room was ringing again, and Talia recognised it as her own, but she could not answer it. She was still tied up to this table, no closer to freedom than she had been almost an hour ago.
Capper and Crumb would be returning soon. When the guards outside Grove turned them away, as they inevitably would, her two captors would not be happy. In fact, she had no doubt that they would be enraged, not only because she had lied to them but also because she had wasted their time.
And right now she had run out of lies. There was nothing else she could say to them when they returned that would stop them from punishing her.
So that only left her with two options: escape, or face horrific torture and probably death.
As the minutes had gone by, Talia had tried to wrestle free of her bonds, straining to the point of exhaustion, but they would not budge. The young man, Winny, had watched her struggle, not even attempting to stop her. She figured that either he was too shy or he simply understood that she was undertaking a futile exercise, and didn’t care if she wasted her energy.
He was an odd one, she noted distantly, not your typical street thug. He was nervous and fidgety and uncertain. Talia guessed that he was firmly entrenched on the bottom rung of the gang hierarchy, one who was pushed around by the others and who rarely protested when told what to do. Even in regards to Talia, he seemed edgy. He watched her with a mixture of trepidation and desire, as if she were a piece of forbidden fruit dangling within reach on a nearby tree, a prize he desperately wanted to claim but was too afraid to do so.
Perhaps that was the only angle Talia had left to play, but she wasn’t sure exactly how to work it.
She suppressed a sob of despair. How could it have come to this? After everything she’d worked for, after all she’d been through, it was all going to end in pain and torture in this shitty old factory that was probably only a mere two blocks from her home.
She waited, expecting to hear the sound of doors opening and closing deeper inside the building any minute. To hear the thump of angry footsteps.
Do something, she told herself. Don’t let it end here.
But what could she do? She was stuck fast.
She had tried engaging Winny in conversation several times, attempting to feign a companionable tone of voice, but he had ignored her every attempt to speak with him. He had obviously been instructed not to communicate with her in any way, and he was carrying out his commands to the letter. However, being the skittish and obedient type, she now decided that he was more likely prone to fall in line with the application of authority. She needed to alter her approach accordingly.
Winny. Get through to him. Be forceful.
Talia closed her eyes and took a deep breath to settle herself and calm her nerves. She needed to be composed, in control. She needed to be convincing.
She exhaled, opened her eyes. She looked across at Winny.
“You don’t have me to yourself for much longer,” she said coolly.
Winny sat upright as if she’d poked him in the ribs, then gave her an awkward double-take. He looked away again without responding.
“You know what they’re going to do when they get back, don’t you?” she went on.
Once again, no response.
“They’re going to beat me and use that toolkit on me. But before that, they’re going to take their pants off and do something else.”
Winny visibly flushed and crossed his legs. Suddenly the dusty brickwork seemed intensely interesting to him and he looked away from her to study it.
“Are you going to wait your turn?” she crooned. “Or are you going to take the best parts for yourself before they’ve had their fill?”
Nothing.
Keep going.
“You’re the only one of them I want, Winny,” she said. “Those other two are old and ugly. They’re rough. They don’t know how to treat a woman. But when I look at you, I see that you’re different. I bet you’d know how to touch me in all the right ways, wouldn’t you?” She smiled, even though it was the last thing she felt like doing. “You could take me right now if you wanted to.”
Winny shook his head almost imperceptibly, but still did not turn to look at her.
“Come on, Winny. Give me one last good time before those brutes come back. Show me what kind of man you can be. Capper and Crumb don’t ever have to know.”
He finally looked at her, setting his jaw in defiance.
“Be quiet. You’re just trying to trick me. You want me to help you escape.”
“Escape? I’m tied down, if you hadn’t noticed. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Shut up.”
Talia made an exaggerated sigh. “When was the last time you had a girl who looked like me, Winny? Or any girl?” He glowered at her. “Do you really think you’ll ever get an opportunity like this again? I’m offering myself to you, and all I ask in return is that you make me feel like a woman again one last time. Don’t you want that?”
“I told you–”
“Be a man,” she said sternly. Winny uncrossed his legs, then crossed them again, shaking his head. “I said get up. Right now.”
Winny stuck out his chin, then got to his feet. He raised his finger.
“You be quiet–”
“Get over here, Winny,” Talia said, her voice low but forceful. Her eyes were direct, and now he couldn’t look away. “Walk over here and stand next to me, tell me you don’t want me. I bet you can’t.”
Winny’s resolve began to crumble and he took a few faltering steps toward where she lay. She continued to fix him with that stare, drawing him forward with her will, and then a few moments later, he was standing next to the table.
“I want you,” she said, her voice altering to a more suggestive tone now that he was close. “I want your hands on me. You want that too, don’t you.” It was not a question.
Winny licked his lips, swallowed noisily. His eyes crept down her body and back up again.
“I–”
“Put your hands on me. I’m lying here helpless. You could touch whatever you want.”
He shook his head, squeezed his eyes shut as he fought against conflicting emotions.
“I said put your goddamn hands on me,” she said in a voice that was assertive and yet somehow provocative at the same time. “Do it now.”
> He opened his eyes again. He was still shaking his head as his hands edged forward and touched lightly against her belly. He groaned inadvertently.
His breathing was hard, and, looking down, she saw something else was too.
“Good,” she said. “Now slide them up.”
Winny licked his lips again and shook his head.
“I shouldn’t–”
“Do it,” she commanded.
He did as he was told, edging his hands along her blouse, across her midriff until his palms rested on the mounds of her breasts. Talia made a little sound of satisfaction and rewarded him with a smile.
“Good. Good boy.”
He exhaled shakily, not game to meet her eyes again.
“Now take off your pants.”
Winny gulped again and closed his eyes, still battling against himself.
“You’re going to take off your pants and fuck me,” Talia instructed. “You’re going to show me the man that you are. And you’re going to do it right now. Aren’t you?”
Winny nodded, removing his hands from her chest and fumbling with his belt. He was shaking like a leaf. His trousers slipped to the floor and he stepped out of them, kicking them aside.
In the distance, Talia thought she heard a door. Winny made no reaction, staring at her body with unbridled lust.
“Now take my pants off,” Talia said, not entirely feigning breathlessness. Time was running out.
Winny looked down at the belt that was strapped around her knees, knowing that he was about to cross the line. His resolve wavered.
“Take my pants off,” she said again. “Just undo the bottom belt. Keep the other two where they are. Then get on top of me. I need you.”
Winny hesitated a moment longer, then his resolve gave out. He fumbled at the belt around Talia’s knees, releasing it and dropping it beside the table. He climbed above her on the table, reaching for the waistband of her pants, but it was caught under the second belt that had been tied around her waist. Cursing, he reached for the catch and began to undo it.
“Yes,” she cried. “I want you. Yes, keep going.”
There was the sound of another door, closer, and Talia thought that Winny would hear it this time for sure.
Landfall (The Reach, Book 2) Page 8
