by Mike Brooks
Xiuying grimaced. “That is your final decision?”
“Don’t make the lady say it twice,” Gao growled. “Now, are you going to play nicely?”
It was fairly obvious what the alternative was. Gao had never directly threatened Xiuying, but he’d skated very close on a couple of occasions. She had no doubt that, should the Dragon Sons want to, they could kill her. She was fairly sure that, should she want to, she could ruin them. It wasn’t an equal balance of power by any means, but for them to continue their relatively comfortable lives, they needed either her, or someone like her. That gave her a little leverage. Maybe not enough to affect what would happen, on this occasion, but at least to ensure she got the most out of it.
“I’ll play,” she assured them, “but I’ll need two things from you.”
“We’re listening,” Zhang drawled, before Gao could spit something undiplomatic.
“First of all, I’ll need a sacrifice,” she said. “There are going to be ramifications from this shipment of yours, whatever it is. It’s been a while since my office has made any significant arrests or scored a major bust against the Triax, so I’ll need something I can wave in Mei’s face to prove we’re still working hard. I need someone with concrete links, not a fall guy, and I’ll need them to survive to trial and conviction. After that . . .” She shrugged. “Prison is a dangerous place, if you need it to be.”
Zhang and Song shared a sideways glance before Song looked back at her.
“That could be . . . hard to arrange.”
Xiuying smiled humourlessly. “Welcome to my world. But if you want me still sitting here moving things around to suit you, I need to convince Mei that she doesn’t need to replace me. I’m not asking for the heart of your organisation, but I need someone we can shout about for a while.”
Song turned her attention to Gao. “Get me some names.”
Xiuying cleared her throat slightly. “And I need them by next seventhday.”
Song blinked in apparent shock. “Excuse me?”
“Misdirection.” Xiuying shrugged. “We launch an operation involving as many honest officers as I can manage to snag this big fish you dangle in front of us; you sneak your contraband in while everyone’s looking the other way. People talk about the momentous arrest my force has made rather than some shady goings-on at the docks. I look good. You look good to your clan, because you sacrificed a pawn at just the right time to make sure we missed your big play.” She circled her fingers around each other. “And so the game goes on.”
Song pursed her lips, but finally nodded. “I take your point. We will find a suitable candidate.” She raised her left eyebrow, causing her semicircle of gems to shift slightly along with it. “And the second thing?”
“I want danger pay,” Xiuying said bluntly. She didn’t give them a chance to react, but pressed ahead instead. “If you’d come to me with this two months ago, I could have coordinated what you needed and barely lifted a finger. To arrange it now will mean I need to make calls and contact shift supervisors directly, and instruct them to make changes. That’s the sort of meddling that can very easily be traced back to me, if anyone starts investigating. I’m in the system: If I get busted here, I can’t do what you can and head elsewhere to start over at the same thing. I want to make sure that if I need to, I can get out before the hammer drops and not end up scratching through bins to make a living.”
“What do—” Gao began angrily, but Song held up one hand and cut him off.
“Not an unreasonable request, in and of itself,” the gangster said, although there was an iciness to her tone. “What sort of figure did you have in mind?”
Xiuying took a deep breath. “Four hundred grand.”
She’d shot high, but not offensively high. Or so she prayed. She waited for an outburst from Gao, a smug laugh from Zhang, hard-nosed negotiating from Song.
Song looked at each of her companions in turn, then back at Xiuying. “That would be acceptable.”
Xiuying could barely believe her ears. They’d gone for it. Four hundred thousand stars, and the head of the Dragon Sons’ casinos had just nodded her head and okayed it. Whatever they’re planning really must be huge, if that’s not going to cut in to their profit margins.
She tried not to let her surprise show on her face. “I’m glad you agree.” Time to push her luck a little. “I’ll need that by next seventhday too.”
Gao snorted. “You get the money after you pull the strings for us.”
“Whatever you’re doing is clearly big,” Xiuying countered, “so maybe you won’t need me after this. I get the money beforehand, or it doesn’t happen.”
Gao scowled. “Don’t go thinking you’re irreplaceable, Chief.”
“Long term? Certainly not,” Xiuying conceded. “By next seventhday? If I suffer an ‘accident’ between now and then, I’d . . . well, I was going to say that I’d stake my life on you not finding someone with enough authority to arrange what you need, but I suppose I already am.” She gave them a thin smile. “A compromise, then: I get the money on next seventhday. You get to see that I’ve done what I’ve said I’ll do. Assuming you don’t stiff me, I don’t need to make any last-minute calls to throw a spanner in your works and ruin everything for everyone.”
“We can make this happen,” Song said slowly, “but four hundred grand won’t fit into your uniform pocket when it comes back from the cleaners. And I don’t think a credit chip would be appropriate.”
Xiuying snorted. “Hardly.” Credit chips wouldn’t function without bank verification. That meant a data trail, and that was something neither side wanted. “I’ll take cash.”
“As a lump sum?” Zhang asked. “Not much subtler.”
“Then how about this?” Xiuying said. “Next seventhday evening I’ll take a trip to one of your casinos.” She nodded at Song Daiyu. “I’ll gamble for a while, and then I’ll cash my chips in. It’ll turn out that I had a very successful evening at the tables, because I’ll walk out of there four hundred grand richer. I get a receipt to explain where the money came from, and everything’s aboveboard.”
Song nodded briskly. “Make it the Thousand Suns.”
Xiuying felt her eyebrows raise. “I didn’t know that was one of yours.”
“Which is why I am suggesting it,” Song said, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Our ownership of it isn’t well-known, so fewer conclusions will be drawn about your presence there.”
“Excellent.” Xiuying looked down at her pad, and tapped it to bring up the agenda. “Now, unless there are any further irregular items to be discussed . . .”
CHECKING OUT THE COMPETITION
“I still can’t believe you ended up holding a gun on the one person who might have actually been able to help us,” Kuai said in Mandarin. He was sitting in a bar with Muradov and Jia, and debating whether he wanted another mijiu.
“I didn’t have a great deal of choice in the matter,” Muradov replied defensively. “You didn’t consult me before you started your little intervention, if you recall, so I had to improvise.”
“If the Captain or Rourke end up held at gunpoint, that’s not such a big deal,” Kuai argued, “because Drift can talk his way out of it and Rourke will just break their arms or something. If it happens to anyone else, we have to take steps.” He looked at his sister. “Right?”
Jia glowered at him.
“See?”
Muradov frowned. “She didn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, but she can never bring herself to agree with me,” Kuai sighed. “Right, sis?”
“Shut up, dickface.”
“Mother would be so proud of you; do you know that?”
“Mother would smile and tell us that she loves us both, and never let on how fucking disappointed she was by the pair of us,” Jia bit out, and knocked back a swig of whatever she was drinking. Kuai hadn’t bothered to find out.
He grimaced. “Wow, you’re in a good mood.”
&
nbsp; “Not wrong though, am I?”
“Yeah, actually, you are,” Kuai snapped, stung into retaliating. “I got a proper job and left Old Earth legally, unlike my bail-jumping baby sister, whom I have managed to keep in one piece like I promised our parents, no thanks to you.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Jia snorted. “Wasn’t you that grabbed me when I was about to get blown away into an Uragan hurricane, was it?” She nodded sideways. “That was the Chief, here.”
“A decision I’m starting to regret,” Muradov muttered into his flavoured water. He glanced back up at her. “Why does everyone keep calling me ‘Chief,’ anyway? I’m not the chief of anything anymore.”
“I dunno, seems to suit you,” Jia said. She levelled a finger at him. “Chief.” She turned the finger to Kuai. “Dickface.”
Kuai stared hard at her, seeing the signs now that he was looking for them. “You’re drunk.”
“Am not.”
“You are.” He grabbed the bottle she’d been using to top up her glass and looked at the label. “Gah! What the hell is even in this?”
“Alcohol,” Jia replied. “What else matters? Besides, I’m following orders. Captain told me to get a bit drunk.”
“He did what?” Muradov exclaimed in shock, managing to choke off the end of his sentence so it only came out as a slightly undignified squeak. The Uragan composed himself and took another sip of his water. “Why would he do that?”
“Well, okay, he told me to be ready to pull someone,” Jia said with a shrug. “Same thing really.”
Kuai grimaced and looked at Muradov. “You didn’t know about this?”
“No!” Muradov protested, then hesitated. “Although actually, I suppose it makes a certain amount of sense. Insofar as any of this makes sense.”
Kuai sighed. They were neck-deep in this scheme, and the Captain was doing his usual thing of coming up with new angles with little warning or explanation. “Drift just told me that we were to meet you here. I’ve been waiting for you to get to the point.”
“Oh, wonderful.” Muradov scratched his moustache. “Well, you see the imposing guy in the far corner with the lines shaved into his head? That’s one Tommy Sanyang, who’s apparently due to appear on a fight card in two days. The Captain wants him replaced with Apirana.”
Kuai looked past the Uragan’s shoulder. A dark-skinned man with, sure enough, lines shaved into his short hair was sitting with a couple of others under a lamp in the far corner, chatting quietly. He didn’t have the face of a fighter, lacking the cauliflower ears or bent nose sported by so many, although Kuai could see a couple of faint raised scars catching the light. He was rather handsome, in fact, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw, not to mention the leanly muscled arms showed off by the sleeveless top he was wearing.
“Fit,” Jia commented. “That’s always a plus.”
“And did the Captain say how he was proposing to make this happen?” Kuai asked, ignoring his sister to the best of his ability. It wasn’t easy, but he’d had a lifetime of practice.
“I think there was originally a plan about spiking Sanyang’s drink at a gym,” Muradov admitted. “But I tracked him down here, so it seemed like a good time to make a play.” The former security chief pulled a tiny, clear packet of white powder from his pocket. “Somehow, we need to get this into his system. I’m guessing the Captain thinks that seducing him is the easiest way to achieve that.”
Kuai looked at Muradov for a moment. “And you’re fine with this?”
“The Captain assures me it’s merely a powerful laxative.” Muradov shrugged. “There’s no danger of it being lethal, or, in fact, anything more than rather unpleasant for him for a couple of days, providing he’s smart enough to drink plenty of fluids.”
“Cool.” Jia held out her hand. “Let’s have the payload.”
Muradov slid it across the table to her. “Good hunting.”
Kuai watched his sister palm the powder and then slide off her stool to flounce across the bar. “I’m still a little surprised that a former security chief doesn’t have any objections to this plan.”
“I made my call when I signed up with you,” Muradov said, sipping his water. “Besides, Ms. Rourke was instrumental in getting the Jonah to us and saving all our lives back on Uragan. I think I at least owe her that in return. As for Mr. Sanyang over there, perhaps we’re saving him from taking a beating. It could be a kindness.”
“Those are the sort of flexible morals that can lead to all kinds of criminal behaviour,” Kuai commented.
“The irony isn’t lost on me.”
“How’d you find him, anyway?” Kuai asked. He was trying not to watch Jia, but old habits died hard. Maybe he did want another drink. Watching his baby sister trying to seduce someone was never easy for him, especially when he wouldn’t have minded bedding the mark himself.
“Jenna isn’t the only one who can use the Spine, you know,” Muradov said. “There are a lot of fighting fans in town for the event, so all I had to do was look out for people uploading pictures of fighters they’ve just seen, or had their picture taken with. Someone spotted him here”—he looked at his chrono—“about forty-five minutes ago, so I made the call.”
Kuai nodded. Muradov had proved to be efficient and resourceful so far, which was about all they could ask for when pushing ahead with such an idiotic plan, so all things considered, Kuai was rather glad the Uragan had been added to the crew. Of course, Muradov wasn’t exactly the life of the party, but then again people apparently said the same thing about Kuai.
“So what’s to stop your old friend on the force from ratting us out?” he asked the other man. “I could really do without being arrested for being an accessory to assault of a security officer.”
“Self-preservation, I expect,” Muradov replied. “She’s got absolutely no evidence to suggest I’ve broken the law, and even if there were any cameras covering the market, they would only show that she lured me to a public area and pulled a gun on me for no apparent reason. There’s no way she can spin that to make me look criminal, and it would spark awkward questions for her.”
“Yeah, but remember we’re in a crooked town,” Kuai pointed out. “What about all those officers she mentioned who’re in the pay of the Triax?”
“Mariya’s probably too principled to run to the Triax at all,” Muradov said. “I think she’ll actually want me to succeed in whatever it is she thinks I’m doing, even if she doesn’t like me now. Besides, she’s certainly too smart to go to them—she’s not on their books, so they won’t trust her anyway. If she goes to someone and says she was questioned by me, at gunpoint, they’ll figure she told me everything she knows. That’s the sort of thing that can lead to an early retirement at the wrong end of a bullet. Her best option is almost certainly to keep her head down and hope no one ever finds out that we spoke.”
“And likewise for us,” Kuai sighed. “What I wouldn’t give for a solid plan right now. You ever watched any heist holos? You know, where this gang of people rob a bank or something?”
“Sure,” Muradov confirmed, nodding. “Although they’re usually infuriatingly inaccurate when portraying security procedures.”
“Well, here’s the thing,” Kuai said, leaning forward and jabbing the table with his finger for emphasis. “Right now, we’re in one. And all we know is that some casino has got the money we want.” He sat back again, looked at the bottle he’d confiscated from his sister, then tipped a measure into his glass. “I could have told you that—most casinos carry millions every night. We’ve still got no idea how we’re going to get the . . .”
He trailed off. Jia was coming back to the table, and she didn’t look happy.
“That didn’t take long,” Muradov commented. Jia shot him a glare and tossed the packet, unopened, across the table to Kuai.
“I got nothing. The two guys he was with, yeah, eyes on my prize. Coulda walked over and plucked either of ’em, no problem. The man himself?” She shrugged. “I’m the wrong t
ool for the job. You’re up, dickface.”
Kuai picked the packet up, trying to suppress a smile. It always killed Jia to admit that someone didn’t want her, and besides, he had rather been hoping for this outcome. “This is a stupid question, but you were subtle, right?”
“Oh, relax,” Jia grouched, hopping back up on her stool. “I was at the bar; I got a drink”—she gestured to the glass in her hand—“I looked around a bit; I waggled my ass. I didn’t walk up and sit in his lap, didn’t even speak to him. They didn’t see someone trying it on; they just saw a hot girl. Well, two of them did,” she corrected herself.
“I’m not following,” Muradov cut in, his brow furrowed.
“I know, right?” Jia said into her glass. “Hell, I’m good, but I’m only human. Some men just ain’t for turning.”
“No, I mean . . .” Muradov looked back at Kuai. “You’re trying now?”
“Unless you want a go?” Kuai asked him.
“I, ah, don’t think that my talents lie in that direction,” Muradov admitted. “Besides, my faith would frown on it. Unless I were to marry him first.”
“Lucky for everyone, the Changs are here,” Jia said, perhaps a little too loudly. “If the drop-dead gorgeous pilot doesn’t get you, her grease monkey idiot of a brother will. No cock is safe!”
“Shut up,” Kuai told her. “It’s not fair that you always get first try, anyway.”
“Statistics, bitch. More men want me than want you; that’s just fact.” She turned to Muradov. “So, you ever been married?”
“I have not.”
“So you’ve never had sex, because your faith would frown on it?!”
“Just because I wish to avoid doing something now does not mean I’ve always succeeded in avoiding it. . . .”
“You know what?” Kuai took a sip from his glass, then screwed up his face as he tasted what his sister had been drinking, and the pithy sentence he’d had lined up fled from his brain entirely. “Fuck his mother! Absinthe? Jia, you know that makes you violent!”
