“Wow,” her sultry voice oozed out.
Her expertly manicured, and rather sharp-looking, fingernails shone with all the colors of the rainbow. She dragged them down Roger’s bicep. “I haven’t seen you boys around here in a while. Oh, you pick up a new friend?” She threw Grayson a kiss and eyed his shirt. “He on holiday, or something? Rad and retro, honey.”
He sat up straighter in his chair.
“Don’t you worry about him, Betty.” Winter threw her a kiss. “He’s all yours later if you want him. Just make sure nobody bothers us, and keep the drinks coming.”
The waitress clung to Rogers’s arm, but her eyes narrowed seductively, taking in the sight of Winter. “Whatever you say, hot stuff. But save me some for later.” She sauntered away, moving like her hips were double-jointed. Grayson stared longingly after her.
Rogers laughed and picked up a handful of peanuts off the table. “You better learn how to keep your eyes inside your head, Grayson. This place is going to eat you up alive.”
Grayson glanced around and saw the place’s wait staff was all fawning over patrons as if they were on something. “The staff here…?”
Rogers laughed, and Winter gave a slow nod. “You think we just come here for the food? We have to show our new crew member a good time, right?”
As he spoke, the drinks were delivered at a table by another waitress. Grayson cleared his throat, certain that he couldn’t legally enjoy the ‘good time’ that they wanted him to have. Not with women like this and not when on duty.
“Ohh my…” she pouted her lips and blew Grayson a kiss. “Later…you and me…you’re getting a special, private showing.” She snapped her jaw shut but bared her teeth for a moment.
Rogers and Winter laughed as the three men lifted their steins of beer and slammed them together in midair. They each took a long draught and Grayson was impressed with the thick, malty flavor. He was going to need it to get through this night.
Grayson knew. Of course, he did.
Grayson tracked her and Nadine’s movements. They were entering the area of Montral known as the Red Zone. Maverick’s territory—it made Ventrella District look like a child’s playground. Grayson took a deep breath as he studied his overlay and watched her tracker move further away.
“Let’s order some grub, huh?” Winter leaned back in his chair. With two fingers in his mouth, he let out a loud, piercing whistle.
Rogers was more subdued, his eyes moving back and forth. He wasn’t as good as Grayson at hiding his Link tells.
“If anyone can pull this off, it’s Kylie,” Grayson said.
Rogers blinked. “It’s not Kylie I’m worried about. Pulling Nadine into this was wrong. She’s one of us, but she’s not like us. You know what I mean?”
Grayson understood. He had studied Nadine’s history and her police record. In over her head was putting it mildly. Yet, she had gone along with the plan without much fuss—not what he would have expected for a woman with her upbringing. Other than her raw beauty, Nadine was rather unassuming. Was there something about her he was missing? “If there was another way…”
“Your type always says stuff like that,” Rogers muttered. “It’s why I ended my military service before it even started, pal.” His severe look shifted into a wink as a trio of waitresses approached the group. “Ladies, ladies…” Rogers stood with his arms spread wide as two of the radiant woman came in close for a cuddle. “If only I had extra arms to handle all you fine, fine women.”
One of them laughed. “That can be arranged.”
Winter puckered is lips together. “Damn, I love a good tease. Come over here, sweetheart.” He slapped his lap.
Grayson pursed his lips as he picked up his beer and tried to pretend none of this was really happening.
“What do you say, Grayson?” Rogers asked. “You ready to party?”
Like he had a choice.
THE SHADE
STELLAR DATE: 08.37.8947 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: City of Montral, Jericho
REGION: Gedri System, Silstrand Alliance
The Red Zone.
A notorious district that most citizens of Montral would never think of entering. Reserved for the mercs, bounty hunters, and other employees of Maverick’s syndicate, it was the pit, the bottom of the heap in Montral. From here, he ruled the roost.
For a guy that was the power behind the power in the Gedri system, Maverick liked to matriculate with the lowest common denominator. Maybe he just didn’t give a damn. That was certainly his style.
Outside, ‘police’ patrolled the entrance to the district. Kylie used the term as loosely as possible, because they were directly on Maverick’s payroll—no equivocation at all. If you were in Maverick’s good books you got in; if you had messed up—whether you knew it or not—you were dealt with.
Maverick only dealt with people one way, and Kylie thanked her lucky stars she was still around. It was a good thing he liked her. Had a thing for sweet brunettes with knowledge of the inner workings of the SSF.
Kylie and Nadine passed through the auth portal, avoiding the hungry looks of the cops, and into the Red Zone. On the far side of the checkpoint, a heavily modded guard with an eyepatch gave them the once over. “You have a good reason to be here?”
Kylie tossed a disinterested glance his way, but Nadine held her head high. She must’ve been generating a lot of heat because the train of her dress turned an ombre pink and then purple. “Maverick’s expecting us. He invited us. I suggest you don’t keep him waiting.” She flipped the private card that the muscle had given her on the promenade earlier.
For a big guy, he paled quickly. He stood to the side. “Well, I can’t tell that by looking at you. You better not have any weapons on you.”
Kylie snorted. “Do these outfits look like they can hide weapons?”
Nadine huffed a laugh as they made their way through.
Certaintly, it could’ve gone worse, but the hard part of the job lay ahead.
They strode confidently through the Red Zone. Mercs patrolled the streets, relaxed and laughing amongst themselves—the men and women both throwing lewd comments at the two women as they walked past. Kylie didn’t respond to the cat-calls. In all of Montral—but even more so in the Red Zone—there were only predators and prey. She preferred to be the latter.
A group of hoverbikes screamed by, and Nadine winced at the high-pitched sound of their engines. “Stars, I hate those things.”
“Especially how they echo through the buildings around here,” Kylie replied with a nod. “Almost there, just another two blocks.”
“Somehow, I think it’s safer out here,” Nadine replied as they hurried along the streets toward the tall building ahead.
The dome-scraper stretched at least a hundred stories into the air above them—headquarters for Maverick’s operation, the ground floor of which housed his premiere club, The Shade.
They climbed the broad stairs and crossed the red marble expanse before reaching the towering doors that led into the club. Massive, heavily modded guards stood on either side, and they pulled the steel slabs open allowing the loud music to spill out into the early evening air.
One of the guards nodded, and Kylie shrugged. They were welcome, after all. The two women shared a reassuring look a
s they passed under the elaborate holosign and sauntered into the club’s main foyer.
Kylie waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior while the music and loud voices thrummed around her. Once they had, she saw the usual tables filled with patrons happily imbibing drinks, and on the dance floor, a sea of human flesh and fashion writhed to the beats pulsing through the air.
The pair glided around the dance floor, closer to the bar where rows of girls and lithe young men slithered up and down poles. They ranged from some who were entirely naked and natural humans, to those in complex fetish gear, to others who barely appeared human at all.
The one thing they all had in common were thick collars connected to the floor by glimmering chains.
All the pole dancers were in euphoric throes of ecstasy, their brain patterns altered through mods and conditioning to get off on their dancing, and being groped by patrons. They moved slowly and sensually—Maverick favored mods that slowed time down for these dancers, so their languid movements were smooth and measured.
Kylie didn’t know exactly what it was, but he called it Precision.
They ascended the grand staircase toward the VIP area. Once at the red-carpeted second level, Nadine waved the key card across the door, and it slid open. Stepping into the lion’s den, Kylie steadied herself for what she was about to see.
An intoxicating mist wafted down from the ceiling. Some sort of party was going on in the main VIP room. Women in tight rubber catsuits were on their knees while men—or women—did whatever they wished.
The gags the women wore kept them from making much noise, further diminished by sound-dampening tech. The drug-laced mist kept them docile while it kept the men aroused. They paid good money to be here, women and men alike.
Nadine worked fast. They circled through the rows of girls in the center of the room. When nothing checked out, they headed toward the rear wall where women were strapped to the wall, while others were vacuum sealed in frames like pieces of living art.
Kylie hated this place.
That wasn’t the point though, was it?
Kylie peered up at a blonde woman and thought it could be Lana. She grabbed her chin, and the stoned woman moaned, her eyes rolling back into her head. “Lana?,” she whispered. It wasn’t her. Disheartened, Kylie let her head go and it was like letting go of rag doll.
“Hey!” a man called and grabbed Kylie’s wrist. “That one’s mine! Get your own.”
“We’re Maverick’s, so I suggest you keep your hands to yourself,” Nadine said hotly and her powerful glower—honed from her years attending her family’s high-brow events—cowed the man into submission. Salvager, dignitary, it didn’t matter. Nadine had a power behind her looks and words.
The man lifted his hands up. “Well, then you better go find him,” he gritted his teeth, “and leave my bitches alone.”
Bitches? Kylie’s eyes narrowed as he left and she thought to give him a piece of her mind. Show him what a real bitch could do.
Nadine placed a hand on her shoulder. “Not now, Kylie.”
Right. The mission. Since Lana wasn’t on the VIP floor, they had to continue on. There was never much hope they’d find Lana before seeing Maverick, but they had to try, didn’t they?
“What are you two doing?” a soft, sinister voice came from behind the pair and hairs rose on the back of Kylie’s neck.
Harken. Maverick’s second-in-command was not a woman they had wanted to run into. She had a dangerous, quiet calm about her that always unnerved Kylie. She had once been Maverick’s slave, like Kylie, but Harken had fallen in love with the torture and the control so much, she now got off on it.
She wore a red latex suit with a restricting posture collar laced around her neck, red gloves, and puffy sleeves. Harken’s matching red corset kept her waist cinched tight. Extra small, from the ribs Maverick had removed years ago as a cruel joke. Now, with plumped up breasts, it was evident Harken embraced body modification more than before.
A long red train on the back completed the outfit, and her makeup was always tastefully overdone. Harken came across as more regal and elegant than her clothing would suggest.
Still, though he now preferred his girls more vanilla, it was no wonder that the blonde beauty with silky hair had been one of Maverick’s favorite pets.
Kylie did her best to keep her voice even, though her head swam from the mist around them. “We’re on our way to see Mav.” She cocked her hips and tried to look commanding, but instead accidently stumbled toward Harken.
Harken caught her arms, steadying her. “Then I suggest you hurry and get to it before I put you up on the wall like my girls. And if I catch you inspecting the merchandise again, Kylie, it won’t matter if you are Maverick’s favorite. Your head—and ass—will be mine.”
“Appreciate the warning,” Nadine said. She took Kylie’s hand and led her away. “You okay?”
“I can barely see straight.” Kylie’s vision blurred and everything around her shifted in and out of focus. A fleeting thought that Nadine didn’t seem to be affected came to her before the drugs washed it away.
“You’ll feel better once we get upstairs. Come.” Nadine took Kylie’s arm as they walked around the bar at the side of the room. The wall featured expensive wooden paneling, and as they approached, a section slid aside, triggered by the special key card. A conveyance slid out of the wall, and they stepped inside.
Time to go see Maverick.
MAVERICK
STELLAR DATE: 08.37.8947 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: City of Montral, Jericho
REGION: Gedri System, Silstrand Alliance
The lights in the room were soft, what Kylie would have deemed almost romantic if she hadn’t been sickened just to be there. Music pumped through hidden speakers, and tables in the center of the room featured some of Maverick’s favorite food: marinated octopus tentacles, haggis, and the stank cheese he served on crackers.
There were two guards standing watch by the door to Maverick’s private bedroom, but other than that, they were alone. Except for a giant viewing screen, which allowed them to see down to the lower levels of the night club. The one-way holodisplay gave them privacy.
“Girls, girls!” Maverick said from where he lay on the soft cushions of his sofa. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen my favorites. What a sight you two are!”
Maverick raised his arms to invite them to join him. Dressed in leather pants, a respectful black jacket, and a fitted white shirt unbuttoned down to his navel. He wore a few jewel-encrusted gold chains worth more than most people made in a year, but their size was understated. Diamond-studded rings adorned his left-hand. His chiseled jaw, blue eyes, and a mane of long, wavy brown hair made him easy on the eyes, and it fooled young women into believing he was a true catch, but Kylie knew the truth.
Every time she saw him, every time he flashed that smirk and looked at her like he owned her, Kylie remembered what it had been like to wear his collar—just like the girls downstairs on the poles. His word had been her command. Whatever he had wanted, whether it was sex, playing hostess for him, or just dancing for him and his guests, fulfilling his wishes had been her sole purpose in life.
When she was in space, on the Dauntless, she felt free of him, but now—here in his den—she knew that was a lie. Maverick still owned her. It made the promise of true freedom, from the SA of all things, that much more promising.
“Stop your little girl talk and get over here,” Maverick smirked. “You know I hate private conversations.”
/>
“Sorry, Mav,” Kylie slinked to the sofa and settled on one side of him while Nadine sank into the thick cushions on the other side, her long leg draped over his. Their fingers traced figures up his chest. “You know how we like to toy with you.”
Maverick grunted as he swung his arms around them. “I was beginning to think you were never getting back. Almost like you tucked tail and left our stretch of the stars. Then I thought, no, my girls wouldn’t abandon me. Not when I have given Kylie Rhoads so much. I got you that damn ship, and I can take it away if you ever—”
Kylie put her finger to his lips to quiet him. “You talk too much, did anyone ever tell you that?”
His eyes narrowed. “Then you do the talking. Explain why it took you three times longer than normal to grab that salvage? What were you off doing that took you away so long?”
“There’s a lot of empty space out there; these things don’t just hang out in the black with beacons on them. It takes time to find them. Plus, it’s a big ship,” Kylie purred.
“If it’s so big, why did it take so long to find? It looks like it’ll bring in a lot of money, but not enough to explain the extra three weeks. If you’ve short-changed me….”
“What? I would never hold out on you!” Kylie feigned surprise and batted her eyes.
He nodded. “Better not have. We’re searching the Dauntless now, and if we find just a hint of wrongdoing, one crate unaccounted for, your ass will be mine.”
Nadine laughed—she had been quiet for so long, her voice surprised Kylie. “Her ass is already yours, isn’t it?”
“If you think your little coy banter can sway me….”
“We wouldn’t try that. We wouldn’t.” The words rolled off Kylie’s tongue, maybe a bit too forcefully. She sat up straighter and took a glass of champagne as it rotated past on the spinning table in front of them. “Search the Dauntless as much as you want. Scour the logs. Listen to private conversations. Do what you like, but you won’t find a shred of any wrongdoing on the Dauntless.”
Close Proximity - An Aeon14 Space Opera Adventure (Perilous Alliance) Page 11