by Trevor Wyatt
“They won’t remember us. No one knows about these but me.”
Tira held up her hand in surrender, “What do you think I am, a gossipy housewife?”
Jeremy studied her a second. Then, he nodded, deciding that she was telling the truth, and grabbed the first attacker. He dug him back into the storage unit. Tira took the hint and dragged the other man into the opposite storage unit.
“They’ll be out a while,” Jeremy affirmed.
They continued their trek to the warehouse sector.
“So, why don’t all your crew to get one of those nifty toys?” Tira asked to break the silence. She was more nervous than she would ever let on. If she wasn’t convincing, they would die.
“They were a prototype that never took off. I happened to get hold of the schematics. Call it an insurance policy.” He tilted his head, indicating the two unconscious men behind them.
“Obviously, they were there specifically for us. They’re gonna figure it out.”
“Yeah, but with a two-minute chunk of memory gone, they won’t know if they found us or something worse. All they know is they got their asses kicked.”
“Good point.”
They passed by endless rows of warehouse doors, and Jeremy stopped in front of one nestled a third of the way from the end, nearly invisible among all the others.
“This is it,” Jeremy said.
“Okay, let’s do this,” Tira said as she reached for the control panel.
Jeremy grabbed her hand, “Uh, no. You go in alone. Don’t touch that panel until I’m out of sight.”
“You slimy little toad.” Tira drew her fist back.
“They know me. If I bring a stranger in now, it’ll blow my cover. You find them on your own. It will be suspicious, but believable.”
“Yeah,” Tira dropped her fist, “You could’ve said that last night. Dick.”
“Aww, that’s no fun. You got this.” He punched her shoulder like she was one of the guys and turned away with a smug grin.
Tira stared as he walked away, wondering how she could admire his ass and want to kick it at the same time.
Chapter 14
Tira
Tira walked through the darkened entryway and smelled nothing but stale air, cigarette butts, and the stink of men that have gone too long without a shower.
The last one became even more apparent as the lights clicked on, revealing a small gathering of men that seemed to be as heavily armed as a landing party during an invasion.
“Well, hello fellas. I guess I’ve come to the right place.” She put on the closest thing to a grin she could, hoping that a bit of humor would convince at least one of the men to drop his gun.
“It depends, lady, on whether or not you’re nuts. Now, who the flying fuck are you?”
“Name’s Tira. Formerly from the Terran Armada. I heard you guys are looking for new recruits?”
A man walked over to her from the corner of the room. “It depends. We’ve been having trouble finding new recruits. Last batch included a rather bloody-minded bastard that took some of our higher ups with him.”
“Well, at least promotions are on the table. This is the Syndicate, right?” She took a step forward, hoping that her friendly tone would keep them at ease long enough to figure everything out.
“Yeah, that’s us. Though I think we are done with Armada spies at the moment... Kyle, Luke, take this lady out back and give her a true Syndicate send off.” The leader gave Tira a sad smile. “Shame, all the lovely ones tend to be the sort we have to shoot.”
Tira raised her hands, “Wait! I defected and have information your group needs! Just take me to whoever is in charge, I’ll prove it.”
A couple of the men chuckled, “Well, Ms. Tira, I’m sad to say we’ll have to pass on your offer.” The leader retorted.
One of the men sat on a chair next to Tira and poked her with his shotgun. “Oh come on, I’d love to hear what she has to say, at least in bed. Been awhile since you allowed us to bring in a hooker or two.”
“I’m no colonial tramp selling myself out for credits. Fuck me, lose my information. Shoot me, lose my information. You want to take that risk?” Tira glanced around the room. Six men, five of them visibly armed. The man in charge didn’t seem to carry anything, though that could just mean he had something hidden in a back pocket. Not the best odds in the galaxy, but far from the worst.
She looked at the man who wanted to bed her. “So—are you Luke or Kyle?”
He poked her in the ribs. “Kyle. And from where I’m sitting, your ass is better than anything you can offer.”
The leader looked at her, “Maybe it is time I let the men blow off some steam. Consider it punishment for dropping in uninvited. Afterwards, well, you can tell us what you know or get a bullet in the back of your head.”
Only Kyle kept his gun up. The rest put their weapons down on a small table and walked over to her. The leader turned to the exit. “What? Not going to join in?”
He snorted, “Sorry, I got a wife at home, hun.”
As he said it, the men looked at him. A foolish decision—for them, at least.
Tira grabbed Kyle’s shotgun and flipped it in her hand, “Damn, boy. You left the safety on.”
Fixing it, she blew the would-be rapist away and turned to the rest. “Well, come on. Who’s next?”
The remaining four men glanced at each other and spread out. Tira chuckled and said, “You guys aren’t as stupid as you look. Heads up—I took on bigger gangs than you and won.”
The group rushed to her, which is exactly what she wanted. She dropped to her knees and swung her legs out, taking the man immediately in front of her while aiming at the person behind. Two more down, though the one in front would be able to walk. Eventually.
The other two, however, tackled her before she had to opportunity to start another attack.
A couple of punches bounced off her head, causing stars to blossom in her eyes as she looked for a weakness. Then, she realized that the taller of the two men kept avoiding using his left arm.
She managed to reach out and grab it, leading to a gasp as the man fell off. “You bitch!” She screamed as she rolled out from under the other man.
“Sorry, but all’s fair in love and war...” The other man stood up. He was nearly a half meter taller than Tira, though that wasn’t as much of a problem as the slender shocker handgun he pulled out of his pocket.
It was one of the newest models, supposedly restricted to just military and special forces on missions. “Where the hell did you get that blaster?”
He smiled and aimed carefully. “We’ve been trying to tell you—your information is worthless.”
He aimed it at her and pulled the trigger—but there was nothing. The man smiled and said, “Friend or Foe targeting. The system thinks you are still Armada.”
The man who had his legs kicked out from under him grabbed another gun. It was too far for Tira to dodge. The game was up.
“Maybe the system is out of date. You think the Armada would allow one of those to go off grid and stay functioning?”
The two men laughed, “You think we’re that dumb?”
As the man reached for the trigger, the leader came back into the room, followed by another man. “Don’t fire!” The newcomer said. “You damned fool, an Armada officer shows up at our doorstep and you threaten to rape and kill her?”
The man with the military shocker blanched, “We’re just doing what we’re told. And the gun didn’t fire...”
“Of course it didn’t fire. These new prototypes need to be updated. If she just jumped ship then how would it have known?” He looked around the room. “I know the Armada trains good fighters but this is unreal. Punishment enough, don’t you say?” He looked at Tira with a small grin.
She looked at the man for a few moments. A couple of years older than her, though the lines around his eyes betrayed greater torments than she could ever fear to experience.
“Yeah. Good enough. No
w, are you the man I need to speak with? Or did I have the damned luck to send him to hell?”
The man who left the room earlier chuckled. “In the Syndicate, everywhere is hell. Ever since he got in charge...”
Tira smiled inwardly. Finally, she had spotted the infamous captain that had everyone running ragged throughout known space.
She extended a hand, “It’s good to meet you, now tell me…do you have all your recruits go through such a rigorous audition?”
The Ghost’s captain grasped her hand and pulled her close. “Only the good ones...”
Letting Tira go, he turned to his lieutenant and said, “Well, so much for your guards. I did warn you about bringing in bastards who only like to drink, fight, and fuck... No sense of decorum. Get the bodies out of here and see to that man’s arm. This isn’t the first fight he lost because of it.”
Tira gave him a questioning look, which he repaid by pointing a finger at the ceiling. “I was watching the whole time. Now…let’s talk.”
Chapter 15
Tira
Tira was smart enough to allow the man lead the way up to the office. She hung back by a few yards, just enough space to react well to an attack. She didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust anyone in the warehouse, and it was not just because it smelt like sewers in here.
Two of the cardinal rules of spyfare was to not trust and to not fuck anyone. Tira wasn’t about to trust a man who led a pack of idiots that had openly tried to rape her. She was glad that she was able to send some of them to damnation.
“I’m in,” Tira whispered softly. This was another reason why she kept a few yards of space between herself and the gang leader. She needed to communicate with Jeryl.
“Good work,” the voice replied in her ears softly. “Awaiting confirmation.”
The man suddenly turned around and appraised her from head to toe. Tira didn’t react instantly—to do so would’ve been to give herself away. She maintained her badass demeanor, allowing the sneer on the corner of her lips to spread.
“So,” she said, coming to a halt a yard away from him. “Why should I trust you?”
The man spread out his arms as though to show her his estate, which was really a dank, lowly lit warehouse with a litter of crates and the new addition of dead bodies.
“You have no reason to,” he replied. “Not yet, anyway.”
Then he smiled.
The man was tall with broad shoulders and large palms that appeared and felt calloused. His speech was so clean, she couldn’t help but detect imperial education in it. His demeanor was unlike the guards she’d encountered on the warehouse floor. He was calmer, more tactful, more in control.
His smile was fierce and intense, yet full of meaning. Tira felt uncomfortable. She felt as though he could see all the way right through her.
She shivered.
“Come on in,” the man said. “Wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”
Tira was about to rebuff the absurd idea, but the man wasn’t listening. He simply turned around and led her through a maze of corridors, and then stopped in front of what seemed to be nothing but a wall. A bright white line in the shape of a door appeared before her eyes. The new door slid open, revealing an immaculate office.
This time, the man didn’t lead her in. Rather, he gestured for her to go in.
Tira hesitated.
The man took note of her hesitation, yet he didn’t comment. He just stared at her, his eyes searching her action for meaning. She could see him draw conclusions, complex calculations running through his mind.
For the first time, Tira suspected that she might be well way in over her head.
“Getting cold feet?” he said finally.
Seconds later, Jeryl was speaking softly to her. To a limited degree, he could hear what transpired around her.
“If you feel threatened, Tira, say the word,” Jeryl whispered. “You don’t have to do this. There are other ways.”
Wrong, she replied in her mind. I have to.
Tira knew that this was the fastest way to get what they wanted. Jeremy had made that much clear to them.
Tira firmed up her resolve. She had a mission to do. She wasn’t alone. She had Jeryl in her ears. She was alright.
“Cold feet?” she retorted, letting a nonchalant tone filter into her words. “Hey, I came to you, remember?”
The man saw right through the charade, because he only shrugged and motioned for her to go in.
Tira walked into the office.
“Take a seat,” the man said as he headed to the small bar at the side. The door hissed to a close behind, and a soft click told Tira that she was locked in with what could be the most dangerous man on the planet.
Tira sat at the small desk by the window. It overlooked a vast loading field, where ships fly in to load up on whatever the warehouse stocked.
“Do you want a drink?” the man said, taking his seat at the desk. In his hand was an expensive bottle of wine, a wine opener, and two glass tumblers.
Tira didn’t reply immediately. She analyzed the man, searching for weaknesses and strengths. She could already feel that this meeting was going to end in a fight; there was something about the man that told her he was toying with her, like a cat playing with a frightened mouse. She wanted to be ready. The way she saw it, she could either stand her ground and fight, or she could escape through the window—if it wasn’t reinforced with carbonite, that is.
And damn it, she didn't have her weapon.
The man must have taken her silence for trepidation because he said, “If I wanted you dead, I’d kill you with my bare hands and not use something as merciful as poison.”
The man spoke these words with such force and impudence that she could see a swirl of deep-seethed rage and hatred in his eyes, such as could poison the soul. This was a man that was capable of unspeakable horrors. This was a man not to be crossed. And if everything she’d heard of the Syndicate leader was true, this could very well be the man.
Instantly, Tira was genuinely afraid.
The man arched an eyebrow at her, bringing her out of her thoughts.
She cleared her throat and said, “I’m not afraid of poison.”
Right, Tira, who isn’t? Tira upbraided herself for such a weak reply.
“Good,” the man said. “Because I would hate for us to start off on a path of mistrust and deceit.”
He poured them both a drink. He handed her a glass and held back the other. Tira’s first thought was to wait for him to drink first to be sure there was no poison. But then, she realized that the man was waiting for her to drink first as well.
He’s smart, Tira said to herself as she brought the glass to her lips. Maybe smarter than you.
Tira sipped the wine. The tangy taste of grapes filled her senses, opening up synapses in her brain almost immediately. The feeling was so good that she indulged herself by closing her eyes and relishing its richness.
When she opened her eyes, they were filmy with tears.
The man was smiling. He took a sip of his drink, calming Tira’s fears, and said, “Good, right?”
“Very good,” she confessed. She took a look at the bottle. It wasn’t branded.
“Oh, don’t worry about getting it,” he said, once he noted her quizzical look. “It’s a special formula. Doesn’t exist anywhere else in the galaxy.”
“Hmmm,” Tira replied, taking a full swig of the drink. The result was instant. She was besieged with a flood of euphoria. It was so strong that she wavered on her seat.
“Be careful, Tira,” he said, his voice sounding distant and hollowed out. “Wouldn’t want you passed out in my office. Those guards may very well come back and make good on their promise.”
Tira pulled herself together. She placed the glass on the table and fought the effect of the drink. She hadn’t drank enough to become completely useless. It was just that the drink carried a sharp kick with it.
Within minutes, the effect of the drink cleared up from her e
yes. The man was now silently sipping his drink and observing her. There was the hint of a smile on his lips.
Tira couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew more than he was letting on.
Who are you, really?
Tira held his gaze in the silence for a complete one minute before she was unnerved and had to look away.
“So,” she said. “You know my name. What’s yours?”
The man took another sip of his drink, this time loudly hissing as he did. “That’s of no consequence at the moment,” he replied.
“Isn’t it?” she asked, a bit baffled. “I deserve to know who I’m dealing with. How else will I know you’re the leader of the Syndicate if I don’t know your name?”
The man leaned in on his desk. “And tell me, Ms. Tira, who is the leader of the Syndicate? What’s his name?”
His. So it’s a man. At least I pulled that out of you, you fucker.
Tira folded her arms and frowned. “I admit I don’t know who runs the Syndicate. But I’m not going to negotiate unless I talk with him. I want an assurance.”
The man appeared intrigued by her. He smiled again, leaning back on his chair. He looked away from her and observed his glass, taking in the almost imperceptible intricate design on its surface. Then, he plucked it off the table where it had been sitting for the past one minute, and brought it to his lips.
Before he took a sip, he glanced at her and said, ever so slowly, “Assurance?”
Tira knew she should match his carelessness for one of her own. It was the best tactic to employ in situations like this. However, she had already established that she just might be dealing with someone smarter than her. She had to think outside the box.
The quickest thing she could think of was to abandon her training.
Yeah, that’s definitely outside the box…Tira thought to herself. Like, a thousand yards away from the damn box. It couldn’t get more outside than that.