Genesis Trade (Genesis Book 5)

by Eliza Green

  Marcus watched as Ben and the female Indigene got out of the car. But he was more surprised to see Jenny Waterson and Greyson Stafford from the market with them. Had his informants been right under his nose the whole time? Several others he didn’t recognise got out and together they entered Astoria Park on foot. Too many people surrounded Ben for Marcus to kidnap him.

  Marcus ordered the car to Waverley expecting that Ben would come looking for Albert there. By the time the car reached the tavern, Albert had regained consciousness.

  Old Pete waited outside. Marcus had one last job for him to complete.

  He pulled Albert out of the car and gave Pete instructions. Then he dragged Albert inside the tavern and secured him to one of the chairs. Albert shot up from his seat and head-butted Marcus in the chest. Marcus fell backwards, dropping the gun on the floor.

  Albert tried to pin him down with his unbound foot, but Marcus pushed back. He grabbed Albert’s foot to unsteady him causing the old man to fall onto his side. Marcus grabbed his gun and fired it at Albert’s side.

  The old man’s screams deafened Marcus as he tried to right Albert’s chair. He eventually managed it and sat back on the floor, breathing hard.

  ‘Why can’t you just do what you’re told, old man?’

  Albert gritted his teeth. ‘What happened to you, to turn you into such a sadistic asshole?’

  Marcus smiled. ‘Living on the streets makes you hard. Have you ever lived there?’

  Albert shook his head and winced. Marcus examined the Buzz Gun wound. A surface injury, mostly. He had set the gun to low power. ‘That’s going to sting like hell. Best not to move too much.’

  Marcus found some rope and wrapped it around Albert’s torso and the chair.

  ‘Let me go, Marcus. Ben doesn’t know anything.’ Albert’s fight faded and the blood drained from his face. The wound could be infected. He was no doctor.

  ‘He knows more than you think.’

  Albert coughed. ‘Can I please have some water?’

  Marcus got up and filled a glass. He fed it to Albert; most of it dripped down his neck. ‘That’s it until the boy talks.’

  Albert smacked his lips. ‘Why did you choose a life of crime, Marcus? There were so many opportunities you could have considered.’

  ‘For a kid on the street?’ Marcus laughed. ‘You must be joking. I never knew my mother and my father was never around. I had no skills, no money, no connections. You do what you can to survive.’

  Albert nodded. ‘I can relate to that. But working for the likes of Gaetano Agostini? He had a reputation for being vicious long before the World Government left.’

  ‘You go where the work is. We can’t all get a good start in life.’

  ‘I started in the same place you did, with nothing. My father was a hard man. He worked me hard. I never had friends and saw little of life outside of his business. This place came much later. We choose the life we live, regardless of our upbringing.’

  Marcus sneered. ‘And what did you do in life? Cleaner?’

  ‘I worked an illegal bootlegging operation with my father until he died. That’s how I came to be in the tavern business.’

  Marcus laughed again. ‘So you were a criminal, too? You made your choices and I made mine. There’s nothing wrong with what I do.’

  ‘Except that you kill people who don’t conform.’ Albert squeezed his eyes shut. ‘In my book, that makes you no better than the government that abandoned us here.’

  Marcus spat on the floor. ‘The World Government did nothing to help the likes of you. Without us, without Gaetano Agostini, you would have starved on Earth. The Kings sorted out accommodation and food.’

  ‘We’re starving with you. We would have figured out how to survive. But you, Gaetano and that dirty associate you brought here, all you thought about was money, profit, power.’ Albert coughed and his body stiffened.

  Marcus sneered. ‘You don’t get it, do you? In a world like this, power is all that matters. And whoever has it controls everything. The money, the profit were just means to control you.’

  ‘Your control is slipping, Marcus.’ Albert narrowed his eyes. ‘How’s the air in your cushy mansion?’

  Marcus pointed a finger. ‘I knew you had something to do with it.’

  ‘We had a little help.’

  ‘From those Indigene freaks?’

  Albert chuckled, then winced. ‘From all of them, even the ones inside your mansion.’

  Marcus pulled his knuckleduster out and slipped it over his hand. He hated it when people played him, even Gaetano. But now he had a chance to turn things around for himself. He punched Albert in the face until his head rolled to the side and stayed there.

  ☼

  Half an hour later, Marcus received a visitor.

  ‘Do you have it?’

  Old Pete nodded and handed him all the money from Sal’s safe.

  ‘Good. Wait back there in the shadows. I’m expecting a visitor and I don’t want him to see you.’

  Nearly a full hour after tying Albert up passed before he heard new voices outside. The place sat in darkness which gave Marcus the cover he needed for his surprise. He stood behind Albert and pressed his gun to his temple. Ben entered the tavern first, followed by Sal. He smiled when the boy’s wide eyes adjusted to the darkened room.

  ‘I knew you’d find your way back here eventually,’ said Marcus. He tightened the grip on his weapon when he saw Ben also had a gun. ‘Drop your weapon, kid.’ His hand with the bloody knuckleduster gripped Albert’s hair, held his head straight.

  Ben held his position. ‘Let him go first.’

  Marcus spoke to the shadowy figure. ‘Don’t just stand there. Get out here and disarm him.’

  Old Pete emerged from the shadows and took Ben’s weapon, then Sal’s. He stood behind Marcus.

  ‘You backstabbing piece of shit,’ said Ben to Old Pete.

  Marcus needed more money. Fast. He kicked a bag over to Ben, told him to fill it.

  ‘We know about the money buried out back. You can have it all, in exchange for Albert’s life,’ Ben pleaded.

  ‘I can get more from the safe at my place,’ said Sal.

  Marcus stared at them. ‘I’ve already been to your place and cleared out the money. I want all the fucking money you’re hiding from me. You think I’m some lowly associate with no brains? I know you all keep extra money hidden away. I want it.’

  ‘You have everything, Marcus,’ said Sal. ‘Just let Albert go.’

  Marcus stiffened. ‘Not everything. There’s something else.’

  Pete got antsy behind him, begged for what he’d been promised, to work as an associate for the Kings. Marcus dismissed him, much to Pete’s disgust. Gaetano was gone and he had no need for Pete’s help anymore.

  Plus he didn’t want Pete to get wind of his other demand: to get off Earth.

  Marcus tortured Albert until Ben gave in. ‘Leave him alone. What do you want?’

  ‘Access to Bill Taggart on Exilon 5.’

  Ben’s brow furrowed. ‘I don’t know him.’

  ‘But you have met him?’

  ‘Once, a very long time ago. But I don’t have access to him. It’s not like we’re friends.’

  ‘But you know people who can find him.’

  ‘Why? What do you want with him?’

  ‘I want to make a deal. Immunity and safe passage to Exilon 5. I want off this fucking hellhole.’

  ‘So you pissed off Gaetano Agostini, did you?’ said Sal.

  Marcus stared at her. ‘There’s only one person I give a shit about in this world, and it ain’t any of you.’

  ‘Why do you want to leave this planet so badly?’ said Ben.

  ‘Because you’re not the only ones running for your lives. You have no idea what the Kings will do if they find me. The Agostinis are a bunch of psychopaths.’ Truth be told, Marcus was more worried about the other factions. They would exploit any show of weakness. He wanted to be long gone long before any of
them found him.

  ‘I’ll do as you ask,’ said Ben. ‘But let Albert go. Give me a day to make some calls.’

  Marcus didn’t see he had a choice. The chances of being ambushed by the residents increased the longer he remained in Waverley. He’d finally get that revolt he wanted. But too little too late, and of no use to him. Now he needed to lay low for a while.

  ‘You have a day. I’ll be watching, Ben Watson. If you don’t deliver, I’ll come back and put everyone you love in the ground. Starting with her.’ He pointed his gun at Sal.

  With his other hand, he picked up the spare guns, fumbling one as he groped for the back door handle. The car waited for him outside, set to track a receiver he carried in his pocket. He got in and ordered it to move before Sal or Ben followed him.

  32

  It took Marcus two hours to get to Terrebonne, Montreal. He pulled out the address with Harvey Buchanan’s name on it. Harvey was considered the genetic manipulation expert back in the day. He’d altered many criminal faces during the World Government’s reign. Marcus wondered if Gaetano and Enzo, with their too-perfect good looks, had been physically altered to increase their chances of selection for the World Government programme. If Gaetano still had the address, then chances were high that Harvey was still on Earth.

  The car sat, engine off, on a side road outside a large block of apartments with a crumbling facade. Marcus worked off slim hope that the address was right. He had no idea how old the information was, but he had to try. His preference would have been for an address further than Montreal, like Salluit in the northern tip of Quebec province, a remote location well away from where Gaetano and Enzo were likely to have gone. Terrebonne felt too close to home.

  He had brought all the money from the mansion and the residents of Waverley. He hoped it would be enough payment for Harvey to alter his appearance. Marcus touched the ragged red line on his neck that he hoped Harvey could make disappear.

  At 7am, Marcus crossed the quiet streets to the gates protecting the crumbling facade of the apartment block that had seen better days. He pressed his finger to a console. He called apartment 21B. A voice answered. A woman.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘I need to speak to Harvey Buchanan.’

  The voice became edgier. ‘There’s nobody here by that name. You’ve made a mistake.’

  No mistake. ‘Gaetano Agostini sent me.’

  He heard silence at the other end, then a click as the gate opened. He walked inside and entered the apartment block.

  Marcus knocked at door 21B. A woman’s face appeared; deep lines and dark shadows under her eyes marred what would once have been an attractive face. A man with sandy-coloured hair waited in the doorway to a side room.

  Marcus slipped inside and the woman closed the door. Only then did he see the gun the man pointed at him.

  ‘Who are you?’ said the man.

  ‘Marcus.’

  ‘You got a last name?’

  ‘Murphy.’

  The man laughed. ‘Your name is Marcus Murphy?’

  ‘Yeah, so?’

  The man shook his head and his smile vanished. ‘You any relation to John Murphy?’

  ‘Yeah, he was my father.’

  ‘A dipshit and a liar. Dealt with him when I started out as a black market operator.’

  Marcus shrugged. ‘Can’t say I disagree. You Harvey?’

  The man nodded, gun still raised. ‘And you say Gaetano sent you?’

  ‘Sort of.’

  Harvey turned to the woman. ‘Leave us.’

  As soon as she’d gone into another room, Harvey dropped the niceties. ‘What does that fucker want now?’

  Marcus stiffened. ‘Nothing. Gaetano’s vanished. I’m here because I need your help.’

  ‘And who the fuck are you supposed to be?’

  ‘I’m one of his associates.’

  ‘And?’ Harvey straightened up. Walked over to Marcus. Pressed the gun against his forehead. ‘You’d rather I guess why you’re here?’

  Harvey reminded Marcus too much of Gaetano. Hard to read; quiet; possibly volatile.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. ‘No. I want to get out from under Gaetano.’

  ‘You said he’s vanished. Sounds like you already are.’

  ‘When he realises I betrayed him, he’s going to want me dead.’ Marcus slowly pulled out the money and three necklaces Gaetano had left behind. Harvey grabbed it all, stepped back and counted the money. ‘I stole the cash from him before he left.’

  Harvey holstered the gun and laughed. He examined one of the diamond-encrusted necklaces under a magnifying light set up on a nearby desk. ‘It’s ironic that you should show up like this with Gaetano’s money. That prick owes me. And that psychotic son of his is bad for my business.’ Harvey counted out half and placed it down on the table. He laid two of the necklaces on top. ‘This lot is payment for services already administered.’

  ‘Then consider the rest as my payment to you. I need you to change my appearance.’

  Harvey held up the remaining money, waved it around. ‘And what do you expect me to do for this?’

  ‘I heard you were the man to change my face. I need to disappear.’

  Harvey smiled. ‘Where on Earth do you plan to go? Without spacecraft, you’re landlocked.’

  ‘Exilon 5. I know someone who might secure me passage.’

  Harvey perked up. ‘Who?’

  ‘There’s a kid in one of the neighbourhoods. He knows Bill Taggart.’

  Harvey laughed hard, which only got Marcus’ back up. ‘That crafty son of a bitch is on Exilon 5 while I’m languishing here?’

  It surprised Marcus to learn that Harvey Buchanan knew Bill Taggart.

  ‘So what are you after?’ Harvey pointed to the scar on Marcus’s neck. ‘That needs to go. You might as well paint a bullseye on your back.’

  ‘Can you do anything with my face?’ Marcus wanted to be like Enzo: handsome, but not a prick.

  ‘I still have a lab in town, but this money won’t cover it.’

  Marcus thought for a moment. ‘We live in the old Deighton Mansion in Astoria Park. Gaetano had some of his art and larger items like busts and vases put into storage in the basement. We never went in there. Gaetano was weird about it. But he left in a hurry so some stuff is bound to still be there.’

  Harvey waved his hand around his small apartment. ‘And where would I put vases and paintings? By the fireplace?’

  Marcus worried he had lost Harvey’s interest. ‘Well, there’s probably more jewellery, I can get you more—’

  ‘How did you come by my name?’

  ‘It was in Gaetano’s desk.’

  ‘Was there anything else there?’

  Marcus tried to think of what Harvey might be after. ‘A few papers. A notebook or two.’

  ‘His address book?’

  Marcus shrugged. ‘It’s possible.’

  That piqued Harvey’s interest. ‘Get it for me and we can talk more.’

  ‘I can get it for you now. I have a car.’

  ‘Grade one or two?’

  ‘It’s a slow piece of junk.’

  ‘We’ll take mine. It’s faster.’

  ‘There’s no need to come.’

  Harvey smirked. ‘If Gaetano’s address book is there, I’m not letting you out of my sight.’

  33

  The car carrying Marcus and Harvey stopped outside the mansion entrance, just past the boundary point for the old security force field. From the ease of movement, it appeared that only the environmental force field covered the house and its immediate vicinity. They stayed inside the car for a moment and watched a group of men at the house clear the basement of paintings and expensive vases.

  Harvey shook his head. ‘They don’t understand the worth of anything in this world. There’s only one thing I need, Marcus Murphy. Go get it for me. It’s safer if I wait here.’

  Marcus got out and trekked up the driveway to the mansion, slowing as he got close. He reco
gnised the men—members of Alfonso Agostini’s faction—who were loading the cars with Gaetano’s items. His false message announcing Gaetano and Enzo’s hasty departure, sent by Johan, must have worked. He’d half expected the place to be crawling with rival factions vying for Agostini blood, but all they seemed interested in was his wealth. Marcus didn’t want to hang around longer than necessary. He darted inside the mansion and bounded up the stairs to the first floor.

  The place was eerily quiet, except for the buzz in the basement and lower floor. He entered Gaetano’s office to find the place in worse condition than before. As he neared Gaetano’s desk, Marcus prayed that the men had only taken obvious items of value.

  He opened the drawer to find the compass was gone. But there, hidden under a pile of papers was the item Harvey wanted: Gaetano’s black address book.

  He emerged from the house, relieved to see the men were too preoccupied with filling the cars to pay him any attention. He jogged back to the car and climbed in. Smiling, he handed the book to Harvey.

  Harvey slapped the book against his hand.

  ‘Contacts are the only valuable commodity in this game. A painting’s a pretty thing you look at. It isn’t worth anything. Lucky for you that Gaetano was too rattled to take this with him.’

  Marcus glanced back at the house. ‘We should probably go before the others see us.’ He couldn’t bear being this close to the other faction members.

  ‘Good idea.’ Harvey commanded the car to move.

  Harvey studied Marcus’ features. ‘Now, let’s see what we can do with that face of yours. But I must warn you about something.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘If you want your new identity to go unchallenged, you must forget about the boy in the neighbourhood with the connections to Exilon 5. From here on in, you will be a new man. Understand?’

  Marcus couldn’t forget Ben. He needed him. ‘How else will I get on the passenger ship?’

  Harvey waved the address book at Marcus. ‘That’s what this is for. We’ll leverage a contact or two to get on the next craft. If the criminal hold is slipping and Bill Taggart has been in touch, it’s likely the underground movement are behind this fiasco. If I know him the way I think I do, he’ll have sent a passenger ship to take more people off this world. And we will be the first in line to board that ship.’