Corporate Services Bundle

by JC Hay

  “How about you, Grigol? I don’t suppose you have any ideas?” He looked over at the Georgian who drank his coffee and watched the whole proceeding with a bemused smile.

  “I am thinking I don’t want to be involved in this. But as you have already made it too late for that, I have idea. There should be enough history of Jalila Zaahir talking in the network. It would be more brute force than I am liking, but I could probably arrange something that juggled her sound clips.” He leaned back and did math, finger punching into the air like he worked an invisible calculator. “Shall we say twenty-four hours?”

  Na’im felt a wave of ice flood through him. “How did you know about the ties to Jalila?”

  “The pieces, they fit together nicely. Though I admit I was making an educated guess from your discussions.” Grigol folded his hands across his narrow chest. “I could know of a warehouse where you could hide, but it would cost extra.”

  “Wonderful.” Elise grabbed her duffle bag. “You can add it to the bill for when this is all said and done. Where are you putting us up?”

  Chapter Eight

  E

  lise patrolled the warehouse, locating the exits and tightening what little security existed. Like most things from Grigol, the building was dirty, cluttered and only questionably legal, but it would do for one night. For the first time she could remember, her mind refused to stay focused on her work. Instead it drifted to Na’im, who she’d left setting up a makeshift sleeping area at the center of the building.

  “One of many signs that this is wrong.” She heard the lie in her voice even as she felt it in her heart. This thing with Na’im had its problems—not the least of which was his murderous alter-ego—but he made her happier than she had felt even at the best of times with Ty. She climbed up an open stairwell and walked out onto a catwalk that ran the width of the building. From above, she had a better glimpse of the maze of crates and boxes filling the floor of the narrow storage structure.

  She leaned against the rail of the catwalk and watched Na’im preparing two field dinners on their integral heaters. He turned, apparently sensing her gaze, and waved up at her with a smile she found easy to return. The wordless exchange left her with a warm blush, a feeling of foolish happiness that had little to do with the reality of their situation.

  Elise shoved away from the rail and tried to focus on the patrol. There’d be no neat and tidy ending, she knew. At best, she’d be blacklisted for failure to deliver on her contract. She had a tidy savings set up, but even that wouldn’t last forever. She chuckled, a bitter cough of sound. “Especially trying to keep two steps ahead of the corporates who want Na’im back.”

  The best solution would be to get away as soon as Na’im was safe. Return to being a loner, put some distance between herself and Dubai before this whole affair blew up. That had been Ty’s real lesson—other people were betrayals waiting to happen. Being safe meant being alone. So why did that sound so terrible? She looked toward the front of the warehouse and prepared to descend to the main floor.

  Light flooded the building as the main doors flew open. The filters in her vision kicked in automatically, making it easy to see the lights were grouped in pairs. Headlights. She checked the chronometer. This warehouse wasn’t supposed to be accessed until morning.

  She switched to tactical and dove down the stairs, her pistol a bio-tech extension of her hand. There was no mistaking the uniforms on the security teams that swept into the building. Zaahir had found her. Her stomach turned to icy worms at the thought of what they’d do with Na’im under their thumb. “Not while I’ve got anything to say about it.”

  She hadn’t seen Na’im’s response, but there was little chance he’d missed the guards’ arrival. She hoped he wouldn’t decide to do something stupid like turn himself in, but at the same time, guards usually carried a basic set of modifications—with his abilities locked away behind the cuckoo’s personality, he’d be at a distinct disadvantage.

  A security guard came around a stack of crates, his assault rifle pointed uselessly at the floor. Elise charged as energy surged through her juiced system. Her foot slammed into the guard’s knee, buckling the joint and sending him toppling forward. Half-way, her fist met his jaw and sent him into a crate. The guard slid limp to the floor.

  The bones in her hand stung, even with the reinforced carbon-fiber she’d had installed. The guard had dropped silently, however, which meant she still had the advantage of surprise. She kicked away the guard’s rifle and took off toward the front of the warehouse. As she rounded the corner into a wide corridor, she spotted two more guards.

  Unfortunately, they were looking right at her. The guards fell back, one of them tapping a finger to his jawphone. “We’ve got the girl. Send in the janitor.”

  Fear sent another blast of adrenaline through her system as she ran through her distressingly small number of options. They’d waited to find her before sending him in, which might mean they wanted Na’im alive. Perhaps they didn’t have a lab set up for the protein storage matrix, and couldn’t risk damaging its current system. Which is way too sterile a phrase to describe killing Na’im.

  She moved the pistol between the two guards, measuring the exact arc of her arm and recording it in her nerves. The guard clearly thought it was a stalemate, leaning into the shoulder of his weapon as he watched her, sweat beading at his hairline. He held his breath, probably instinctually. His hand twitched, and she fired.

  The bullet hit the guard’s center of mass, but her arm had already moved to the other and fired again. Both guards dropped to the floor and she climbed up onto the crates next to her. Her fingers dug into the plastic, and her arms flexed to pull her up the rest of the way.

  It wasn’t the catwalk, but the stack of crates felt stable under her feet. People wouldn’t be as likely to look up for her, except to watch the obvious firing position on the catwalk. She moved to the front again, clinging to the thin chance that she could take out the people in charge before they found Na’im.

  Assuming they hadn’t already.

  She looked toward the doors, and met the emotionless mirrored visor of the American from the shawarma shop. A high-end BioSplint marred the otherwise flawless tailoring of his pants, lights flashing every time he shifted his weight on the knee she’d shot. If I’m going to do this, my only chance is now.

  She leapt from her row to the next, clearing the space mostly on the power of her adrenaline-fueled rage and fear. The agent reached his hand into his jacket as she brought her pistol around to fire. The American pivoted on his wounded leg, his reflexes as juiced as hers, and the shot went wide. She cursed and jumped off the last carton in the row, knowing his reflexes wouldn’t help him once she’d gotten in close.

  Instead of running, the agent charged her. His hand emerged to level a stubby black box at her. She dove to the side and fired again, but her angle was bad. His arm followed her unerringly and he fired. Pain lanced through her body, and everything went black.

  Na’im heard Elise’s scream from the front of the warehouse and ground his teeth together to keep from calling her name. As long as he was free, he could help her. He couldn’t do that if he got captured as well.

  Of course all of this would be easier if he had the ability to use the implants that were loaded into him without his permission. Not that he was in a hurry to have the cuckoo activated. He pulled up short as another possibility presented itself. What if the modifications were always active, only the programming in his brain kept them from being useable? It explained the palsy in his hand, or the unerring throw he’d made when she’d been in danger. In those moments he hadn’t been thinking. He’d simply acted. His body filled in the abilities as it had needed.

  “Only one way to find out.” Na’im shoved himself out of his hiding place and charged toward the front doors, trying to keep himself focused on something other than his immediate surroundings. Anything he could think of spilled out into his brain: financial reports, grocery lists, Jalila�
��s family tree.

  A guard came around the corner, weapon trained on him. Na’im spouted stock openings and closings as he spun to the outside, grabbing the rifle as he passed. It ripped out of the guard’s hands easily, and he brought the butt into the guard’s skull in the same spin. The guard crumpled and Na’im froze.

  The guard didn’t move. Na’im looked at the rifle in his hands, impressed at his new discovery. “One down, Allah knows how many to go.” He couldn’t maintain the trick forever, but in a pinch, it could be the difference between winning and losing.

  He jogged along the narrow alley of crates and found himself in the open area where he and Elise had planned to hide. He checked her bolt bag, hoping she’d left him something useful.

  Another guard stepped into view and thumbed off the safety on his rifle with an ominous click. Na’im tossed a handful of Elise’s shirts into the air. The guard panicked, not sure what to track, and Na’im’s hand rocketed out. He caught the guard in the solar plexus, then brought the bag around into his head. The guard collapsed to the cement.

  Na’im followed the boxes toward the front of the warehouse, and peered around the corner to take stock. He recognized the corporate services agent as the one Elise had shot in the shawarma shop. The CorpServ agent leaned against the door and reloaded a Taser. In the middle of the open space, Elise lay in a crumpled heap while a Zaahir security guard zip-tied her hands.

  He couldn’t stop his sigh of relief. Elise was alive. Though if she’d been hit with a Taser, her mods might be offline until they could be rebooted. Still rosier than the alternative. Did he have the speed take out both the guard and the agent before anyone noticed?

  A familiar earless, pinch-faced silhouette stepped toward the agent and they shook hands. Even though they spoke too softly to hear, there was no mistaking Grigol’s posture, or his pleased, told-you-so expression. Hatred boiled in Na’im’s veins, and he tensed himself to charge forward and kill the Georgian with his bare hands if need be.

  Then the janitor stepped out in front of the headlights, and Na’im’s desire to charge shriveled.

  Even with his face and leg bandaged, the man radiated lethality and bored disinterest in anything other than killing. Na’im made himself as small as he could, hoping he wouldn’t be spotted. With the janitor here, it could only mean corporate services weren’t interested in negotiation. He needed a way to get himself and Elise safe, until they could pay someone to get the data out of his head.

  The other corporations would line up for Jalila’s files, once he let it be known they were on the market. That explained Zaahir’s interest in the situation as well. They wanted first crack at what was in his head. What it didn’t explain was how Corporate Services came to be here. Grigol wouldn’t have known who had hired Elise. He would have called in Zaahir. The presence of Corporate Services and the janitor meant Elise had been working for Zaahir from the start, which made no sense.

  Na’im raced through the possibilities, trying to make sense of them. Why would Jalila rob herself? She gave as little authority as possible to the board of directors, so any CorpServ contracts would have come straight from her. If she’d wanted to secure the data he carried, there were plenty of easier methods. He tried to make sense of it, but the pieces didn’t add up.

  “Na’im? You can come out now.” The voice, even distorted by amplifiers, cut straight through to his spine like an electric jolt. There was no mistaking it, or the insistence in its tone. Her tone. Jalila Zaahir.

  He ran to the front of the warehouse. Grigol still stood there, disinterested in the proceedings. The janitor had hauled Elise to her feet and held her upright while her head swiveled in blind panic.

  The agent moved to the middle of the room, his BioSplint blinking as it adjusted for the movement and increased the dosage of localized painkillers. He opened a briefcase and balanced it atop a low stool. A camera extended on an arm with a whirr of gears, and the monitor in the lid sparked into life.

  Jalila Zaahir’s money-perfect face smiled out at the room. The camera panned across the area until it found Na’im, then it froze and focused in on him. “There you are, darling. I wondered when you’d wise up and join us. I’m glad to see you’re unhurt after all this commotion.”

  His mind tugged him in strange directions, implanted affection for Jalila demanding his attention even as part of him wanted to pull Elise out of the janitor’s hands. He took a step forward, shaking his head. “I saw you die.”

  Jalila laughed. “I hope so. You murdered me. I’d be offended if I thought you weren’t watching.” She looked at something off-screen and frowned. “I forgive you, of course. After all, I told you to do it. Besides, I think I’ve proven I don’t have to worry about that happening again. All I need now is the last day’s worth of my memories, which you’ve brought with you. You’re always so thoughtful, baby.”

  His skin crawled at the epithet. “But how? Why?”

  “I need a more obvious reason to beat death at his own game? Honestly, Na’im, now you’re being naïve. When we unveil this technology, the corporate families will be begging for their turn.”

  “If that’s true, then why the ruse? Why kill your old body so dramatically? You could have waited for old age, then copied yourself to a young body with a triumphant fanfare.” It boggled him to realize how fast he’d accepted the idea that she had transferred her personality to a new body. Still, he had the proof in front of him. It left little room for doubt.

  “That simpering idiot Baradi was planning to edge me out. He had the board in position to take fifty-one percent, which would have left me a figurehead. I needed to be removed in such a way that let the board think they’d won.” She ran a perfectly manicured hand through her hair. “All we needed was someone to grab you, and make them a scapegoat for my death. It was perfect, until this little idiot refused to complete the drop.”

  The janitor lifted Elise’s arms and she spat a string of profanity in response.

  The anger on Elise’s face did little to mask the pain, and it was all he could do to not run to her. Na’im’s fingers clenched against his thigh, his impotence in the situation making him nauseous. “Don’t hurt her. How was she to know you’d rob yourself?”

  “It’s not her job to think, or know. She’s supposed to do what she’s paid for. I had my return all planned out, a glorious miracle of science, reborn to lead Zaahir to new heights. And when I revealed the ‘evidence’ that the board had hired her to kill me? Well, I’d have the grounds I needed to purge them from the company and take full control. Zaahir would have been entirely mine, like Father intended.”

  Her anger was palpable. Even through the screen Na’im could see her clenched jaw, the pulse in her temple. “Instead she very nearly ruined the whole deal.”

  The camera panned over to Grigol, who cleaned his fingernails with a piece of scrap metal. “Fortunately, our new friend called us to say he knew where you were hiding. We worked out a mutually beneficial arrangement. Pay the man, Malachi.”

  The janitor raised his pistol and fired in a single, fluid motion.

  Grigol didn’t even have time to look up before he fell dead to the cement.

  The camera swiveled to focus on Na’im. “You know how much I hate loose ends. Speaking of, it’s time for you to give me my memories back.”

  Chapter Nine

  I

  t wasn’t much of an opening, but blind and bound, it was the best she could expect. Elise stomped backward with her foot, crushing it into the janitor’s instep. He grunted in pain and released her by reflex.

  Big mistake.

  Elise dropped to her knees and drove her head back, hoping to catch him in the groin. Instead, her skull bounced off a rigid plate in the giant’s thigh. She chided herself. Of course he’d have sub-dermal armor. He was built to mix it up close and personal. She felt him shift as he reached for her, so she dove to one side, scrambled to her feet and ran.

  Sounds exploded around the warehouse. Gunfir
e sounded on at least two sides of her. The American was screaming orders to the guards who shouted to each other, trying to circle around her. Na’im’s voice cut through the chaos, strangely comforting. “Your left, thirty degrees. There’s an opening in the crates in two meters.”

  A warm rush flooded her belly. He knows I’m blind. The ghost of a smile played over her lips at his concern. She followed his instructions and poured on the speed. The sound of gunfire jolted her to the present. She could examine her feelings if they made it out alive. Once on her feet, she stepped through the circle of her arms. She wasn’t free, but with her hands in front of her, she could defend herself. More importantly, she could reboot her eyes.

  A heavy fist slammed into her ribs and sent her sprawling. The janitor’s throaty chuckle was unmistakable, a sound like the shifting of tectonic plates. Elise brought her bound hands up and pressed a finger to the corner of her eye. For a moment the solid black of her vision was uninterrupted, then it reformed around a brilliant white speck. The speck grew like she was racing toward it, and her sight rushed up with it. Readouts from her bodycomp began to scroll across as it tried to verify that everything in her body was working according to spec.

  The janitor caught her by the hair, and she ground her teeth against the pain rather than allow the hulking bastard the satisfaction of hearing her scream. In response, the janitor leaned back, putting more weight into the grip until it felt as though her scalp would rip free of her skull. She opened her eyes against the pain, saw his arm fully extended in front of her.

  Elise laced her fingers together and brought them up into the janitor’s elbow. The joint hyperextended with a wet snap and he released her hair. Elise shoved herself backward, out of reach, and scanned the area. Two more security guards raced toward her, guns drawn.

  Always be unpredictable, she’d heard said. Time to test that out.