by Selina Rosen
It wasn’t much to go on, but it was enough if you knew how to read it, and Tarent did.
Conner McVee was a very dangerous person, highly intelligent and motivated to his destruction. If she’d ever been able to get a clean bead on him she would have killed him in a heartbeat, he had no doubt. She didn’t believe in playing by the rules, she saw herself as a sort of superhero, saving innocents from the bad guys. For some reason perps with bad rap sheets filled with violent crimes always attacked her or ran and wound up dead. She took down guys most other agents had failed to get close to, but it seemed impossible for her to locate and bring in small-time crooks she had been assigned to arrest. This meant she had connections in the underworld, but then of course she would. She’d been married to Peggy Mishy.
McVee and Mishy. Now there was an uneasy alliance if ever he’d seen one. The most decorated police agent in the city, literally in bed with the Mishy family.
But then, McVee was a creature of contradictions. She kept the law by breaking it. She saved lives by killing people. She was a cyborg and a Constructionist. Not the sort of person it was easy to do a profile on, yet one thing had become crystal clear.
She could blow and strut all she wanted, but now Tarent knew for a near certainty that there was no way that Conner “The Hammer” McVee was going to do anything at all to hurt Elantra.
By now Hammer would have figured out that – as unbelievable as it might have seemed to her at first – Elantra knew nothing at all about his business.
Elantra wasn’t part of his world. He never wanted her to be. Tarent had picked out a husband for her, and he was grooming him to take over the business. In this way Elantra would never have to get even the least bit dirty. She’d supply an egg, a male child would be born, and he would eventually take over the business.
Elantra was the only pure thing in his life, and he wanted to keep her that way.
McVee had a doctorate in criminology and an batchelor’s degree in political science. She had graduated with honors from the police academy. She wasn’t just some dumb cop, so she had to know that Elantra was no less innocent than the people she had worked to protect most of her adult life. Knowing this, there was just no way that the woman whose files he’d just listened to for hours was going to kill Elantra.
McVee had been decorated six times for bravery and had the highest arrest-to-conviction rate of any agent in a three state area. She had killed twenty-seven people in the line of duty, and that was just the ones on record. She didn’t know what fear was, so his usual intimidation techniques were not going to work. She certainly wasn’t squeamish about killing.
But Conner McVee had one weakness that he could prey on – she was a person of ethics and integrity, a deeply religious woman with a very firm concept of right and wrong.
Elantra had done nothing illegal; she had done nothing wrong. There wasn’t an evil bone in her body. The more he’d learned about McVee the safer he’d felt his daughter was.
Tarent was more than capable of killing a perfectly innocent person, he’d done it many times without one moment’s guilt. McVee, he now believed, was a different story.
Of course you could never be too sure. Because sometimes when you pushed even the most righteous of people to the edge they went crazy, and crazy people were capable of anything. He wondered if McVee was crazy yet, if one more failed attempt to bring him to justice might be what pushed her over the edge.
He buried his face in his hands. One moment he was sure he had it all figured out, and the next he was plunged back into darkness.
God only knows what she’s telling Elantra about me. I think I’ve got the bitch figured, I don’t think she’d harm Elantra, but... If she’s not playing with a full deck she might do God only knows what if I push her hand. What choice do I have? I’m not going to turn myself in, and I sure as hell am not going to kill myself. Maybe that shows just how unreasonable she’s become. She’s hunted me, she knows me; she should have known I wouldn’t go for this. Maybe she just needs to give me this chance so she can feel like her hands are clean when she kills Elantra.
He needed to play for time, because his only real chance was to find McVee, kill her and take Elantra back.
Of course, finding her wasn’t going to be easy. The woman had contacts in several underground worlds, loyal friends, and her enemies were too afraid to say what they might know.
As if his thoughts had conjured her up, McVee’s face filled his screen. As before, the screen behind her was being grounded out. McVee wasn’t taking any chances that her location might be discovered.
“Well?” she asked plainly. “I see you aren’t dead.”
“It’s not much of an offer, McVee... What about money? I could give you any amount you could ask for. You could use it to help your Constructionist friends.”
Her rage, even through the screen, was almost tangible. “You can’t buy people, Tarent. Elantra isn’t for sale. Peggy wasn’t for sale. You can’t buy me off with blood money. I want justice. Finally, after all these years, I want justice. Not just for Peg, but for everyone who you’ve killed or ruined. I want it for myself. Your life for Elantra’s seems a fair trade. I would have given my life for Peggy’s...”
Tarent relaxed then. She’s weighing things out. She wants to make things balance. She knows that killing Elantra will not tip the scales her way. She won’t kill Elantra. He kept the smirk off his face only with an effort. “See, that’s the difference between people like you and people like me, McVee. I care about Elantra, but it’s more the way one might care about a very nice car. It’s pretty, and I don’t want it dinged up, but if it got totaled tomorrow it wouldn’t be the end of the world, because I could always get another one. I’m not about to give up my life or my freedom to save her. She just isn’t that important to me. Unless you’re more like me than I think you are, you don’t have the stomach to kill her. Oh, you kill people. You kill them all the time, and go to sleep, and never wake from a nightmare seeing their faces. In that way you are just like me. The difference is you haven’t ever stepped over the line and killed someone helpless just because you could. I suggest that if you’re going to do it you kill her and send me the pieces. Otherwise it’s stalemate.”
Her face was a mask of black rage as she spat back, “You may have just overplayed your hand, dickwad.”
Her face left the screen. The link was broken, although it was hard to know whether this was because she had severed the link or crushed her terminal.
He sighed and leaned back in his chair, hoping that he was right about Conner McVee, and contemplating just what a stalemate meant for him and for his daughter.
Chapter 7
Conner quickly terminated the link. Her hands were shaking as she completely dismantled the machine. She wanted to crush it, but hoped that this exercise was going to calm her down. It didn’t. When she had finished disabling the machine she put all the pieces back in the case. She took several deep breaths, but it didn’t keep her from crying. Damn the bastard! It should have all been very simple. Part of her had known, had always known, that Tarent Powers was not going to give in to her demands.
That same part had told her over and over that if it came down to it she was going to kill the girl and avenge Peggy’s death. She stood up and took hold of the handle of her weapon with conviction. She was going to do it, just walk in there and stick a nail in the girl’s head. One good, quick, clean shot. Kill her instantly.
Her hand flew from the handle as if scalded, and she flopped back into the chair and started sobbing painful, racking sobs. She lay her forehead on the table, barely resisting the impulse to smash her brains out. Anything to stop the pain. She couldn’t do it, and the bastard knew she couldn’t, so she had utterly and completely failed.
“I’m sorry, Peg,” she breathed. “So sorry.”
She took a deep breath, pulled her head off the table and dried her face on her sleeve. Then she opened the case and put the computer back together, once again h
oping that the tedious exercise would help to calm her.
“Computer, call Mishy.”
Mishy’s face came up on the screen. She was glad she’d caught him in his office. “Ah! Hammer McVee, what can uncle Mishy do for you?”
“I might have outsmarted myself, Mishy. Tarent Powers isn’t taking my bluff, and I can’t kill the girl...” She started crying again in spite of herself.
“Buck up, little camper. You have to do it for Peggy...”
“That’s just it, Mishy. Peg would never want an innocent girl killed to avenge her death. Peggy wasn’t like you, Mishy. She wasn’t even like me. This girl doesn’t know shit. She didn’t kill Peggy, and she doesn’t even know what kind of scum her father is. She thinks he’s some sort of fucking businessman. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I wasn’t, not really. Maybe that just once I wanted to have the upper hand with this bastard, just once I wanted to hold all the cards... Tarent called it a stalemate, and he’s right.”
Mishy looked thoughtful then he smiled. “You don’t have to kill the girl. You’re right. Peggy wouldn’t want it. No one can find you, Hammer. Tarent is going absolutely nuts. He’s got everyone and his brother combing the streets. He’s spending thousands of dollars on computer time, and the only thing he’s figured out is that you aren’t the type of person that kills innocent girls. Keep the girl. Keep her out of Tarent’s hands. Call him every once in awhile just to rub his nose in the fact that you have something he wants and he can’t have it. Everyone knows. He’s tried to keep it hushed up, but I ain’t allowed him to. He’s losing face, and in this business losing face means losing respect and losing respect means losing money. Maybe it even means that someone else decides to take the bastard out. While he’s wasting all his time trying to find you I’ve been squeezing the hell out of him here. Somewhere in between us, the bastard just might break. One thing’s for damn sure. As long as he’s spending all his time looking for his daughter he can’t run his business. Just don’t lose it, Hammer. You owe it to Peggy to ride this thing out.”
“Two wrongs don’t make a right,” Conner said.
“Save your Constructionist crap for someone else. Tarent killed my sister and my wife and my kid. He’s got to pay. If you don’t got the stomach for it, give the girl back to me.”
“Don’t give me ultimatums or orders, Mishy. I’m not one of your hired thugs. Watch your back, desperate men do desperate things.”
“Yeah, and there isn’t a man alive as desperate as I am.”
“Terminate link.” Conner disassembled the computer again. Only this time she tore it down into so many pieces that you would have to be a high-tech genius to get it back together. While she was, she knew the girl wasn’t.
She dried her face again, stood up and headed for the living room. She opened the door and saw Elantra sitting on the couch rubbing her feet. “So can I talk to my dad?”
“I can’t figure out what’s wrong with the unit. I’ve got it all in pieces. It may need a new converter relay. I’ll work on it again tomorrow.”
“I need a doctor,” Elantra said. Conner sat down and looked at where the girl pointed.
“It’s just a broken blister. Bite your lip and I’ll go get a bandage.” She got up and went to the bathroom. When she came back, she sat down on the couch and poured some hydrogen peroxide on the busted blister, dried it off and then put some salve and a bandage on it. Yeah, I’m a real bad ass. Who the hell did I think I was kidding? Gonna kill this girl? Yeah right, gonna play nursemaid to her worthless building-brat ass.
“I know it’s just a blister, but I really ought to see a doctor,” Elantra protested. “It really hurts.”
Conner laughed. “You’re a giant wuss.”
“If I knew what that was, I’m sure I’d be insulted,” Elantra said. She looked at Conner. She must have noticed the redness in her eye, the drag in her voice. “Are you all right?”
Conner wasn’t all right, and the concern in Elantra’s voice pushed her over the edge. She got up and walked into the kitchen quickly, but not before Elantra realized that she was crying, and followed her.
“What’s wrong?” Elantra demanded.
Conner went to the sink and splashed water in her face. “You wouldn’t understand... I wanted to do something for Peggy, but I just realized... it’s too late.”
“Maybe not,” Elantra said helpfully, “Maybe you could work things out, maybe...”
“Elantra,” Conner took a deep breath, “Peggy’s dead.”
“Dead!” Elantra breathed. She had assumed there was some kind of break up, a divorce or something; it had never occurred to her that the woman from Conner’s past might be dead.
“That’s right. Dead. I had the dangerous job, and Peg wound up dead.” Conner leaned over the sink and let the water and tears drip off her face. She couldn’t remember the last time she had cried. Probably at Peg’s funeral.
“How did she die?”
“See,” Conner laughed, though she obviously wasn’t amused. “That’s just it. It doesn’t really matter how she died. I thought it did, but it doesn’t. She’s gone, and nothing I do is going to bring her back. Nothing I do is going to make me feel any better about losing her.” She took her patch off.
When Elantra saw the patch land on the counter beside Conner, she took a step backwards and steeled herself.
Conner dried her face. She walked to the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle, opened it and took a drink. She felt like an idiot. Gee! I’m the badass that was going to hold the crime lord’s daughter hostage. No wonder he saw right through me, I’m on the verge of a complete emotional breakdown.
“I’m sorry,” she said to Elantra. “Must be PMS.” She turned around, and saw Elantra standing there with her fists in tight balls by her sides and her eyes closed tightly shut. Conner looked at her patch on the counter and smiled. “It really isn’t all that bad, Lanny.”
Elantra opened her eyes carefully. It was pretty fucking creepy. The eye was metal. There was a glowing red dot in the middle of it that swiveled as if watching everything in the room at once. Elantra forced a nervous smile.
“I realize it’s somewhat unnerving, but it could be worse.” Conner forced a smile. “It might be some half-healed, infected-looking chunk of flesh with what was left of an eye in the middle of it.” Conner took a long drink from the bottle of beer in her hand. “Want one?”
“I don’t know.” Elantra said honestly. “What is it?”
“Beer, a wheat and barley beverage, very low alcohol content.” Conner grabbed a beer out of the fridge and walked over to the table. She put her own beer down, twisted the cap off the other one and held the beer out to Elantra. “Try it. If you don’t like it, I’ll drink it.”
Elantra took the beer from Conner and sipped at it experimentally. She liked the taste. She smiled and nodded, then sat down at the table as Conner did. “I’m sorry about kicking you.”
Conner shrugged. “You ought to be.” She laughed at the expression on Elantra’s face. “Don’t sweat it. It’s obvious from all the metal in my body that I’ve been hurt worse.”
“If you’re a Constructionist, why...”
“…all the implants?” Conner finished. Elantra nodded. “The implants are the cause, Constructionism is the effect. I got them when I was young and stupid, and I didn’t really give a damn whether I lived or died. I’d say I thought I was bullet proof except that bullets did most of the damage, and it didn’t stop me. I would take jobs no one in their right mind would take, and do things no sane person would do, knowing that if I got something shot up, or broke it doing something crazy like jumping off a building, I’d have an excuse to get another implant. To enhance myself, make myself better than mere human. The more implants I had the more valuable I was to the agency. I was good, damn good. I made them a lot of money, so they spent a lot of money on ‘upgrading’ me. In my quest to become more like God I moved ever further away from the image of God and ever closer to the image of
man. The implants made me stronger, less vulnerable, smarter than a normal human. They enhanced my sight, my hearing, and the less I was like a normal human the less I was like God.
“One day I woke up and realized that there was very little of me left. I was more machine than human, and while the implants had made me something more than human, they had also stolen away part of my humanity. The implants enhance my abilities, but they also cause problems that I wouldn’t have had with my original equipment. They hurt in the cold, sometimes they leak fluid, and they have to be repaired. They’re harder to break, but unlike my real body parts they can’t fix themselves.
“Then Brakston Agency put something in me that I didn’t ask for, a tracer that allows them to follow my every movement unless I’m fifty miles away from the base. I think that was the moment that opened my eyes. It was real obvious that they saw me not as a human with my own life, but as a rather expensive possession that they couldn’t afford to lose. It really pissed me off. I had done it to myself, but they had encouraged me, then they just marked me without my permission. They think they own me, but they don’t.” She looked into Elantra’s eyes. “They don’t own me, and your father doesn’t own you. You can love a person, but you can’t own them.”
Elantra couldn’t argue with what Conner McVee said. It was true; her father thought he owned her. He treated her like a possession. Even now he had thrown her into the protection of this strange woman without bothering to ask Elantra how she felt about it. Elantra was caught up in something she didn’t understand, because he’d never bothered to tell her that she was ever in any danger. Or had he? He’d warned her not to leave the building, she’d done it anyway, and now here she was. She took a long swallow of the beer. It fizzed up in her nose and she coughed.
