Beluga Fay (Dragon Bone Hill)
Page 6
“We’re going to have to change that up,” Pym answered with a smile, “if we are going to survive in this city.”
“I’m still not going.” Lander said, digging in his heels, “no matter what you say—or do.” Others were nodding.
“I’ll go.” Synon had to be the first—someone had to follow. If she could get one more, then more, she hoped, would join them.
“Anyone else?” Pym asked. The confidence in his voice was not credible to Synon, but it was one of the reasons she would follow the man anywhere. The woman recognized the fact that she was in love with him, but not in the way most would think of this. Of course, there was the romantic sensibility and the erotic element, not that Pym had ever taken her up on any of the not-so-subtle offers, but there was more. Her love was primarily for someone who’d given the woman back her self-respect.
“Me.” Essie stepped forward. Following her, a few more of those who had been victimized under Bannly’s weak leadership came forward. Synon knew they were stepping up because without Titus, they would be back to being whores and punching bags for Lander. Soon, others would follow along because it would seem the acceptable thing to do—again.
“Alright, but if we do this,” Bannly answered in a weary, frightened voice, “then we are going to have to be certain it can be done quickly and quietly.”
“What do you mean?” Synon was not sure what he was getting at, or if he was still looking for a way out of the mess Titus was leading the Fay into.
“I mean we look for a genuine straggler.”
“What,” Pym asked, “is a genuine straggler?”
“Someone the others won’t miss.” Lander answered.
“There is no way,” Synon stepped in, “anyone can guarantee that.”
“Then,” Lander again, and hopeful, “we should not be doing this.”
“No one,” Essie sneered, “is asking you to come. We don’t need cowards like you anyway.” Lander took a step toward the woman, but Pym held out a hand and shook his head. Half the time, Synon thought he enjoyed what he’d done to Lander and what few of his crowd remained, but she was never certain.
“No one need come that is not willing to follow my command and is afraid this will fail. In all likelihood, this will end in a few of us getting injured and perhaps killed. If you are not prepared to risk your lives, you will not be required. However, those that do come will share equally in whatever we capture. Food will be shared with all; and any weapons, ammunition, and vehicles will be used as I see fit in order to strengthen the Beluga. Everything else taken will be shared equally with those that come with me. What they do with it is up to them.” Synon smiled, Pym knew how to capture the hearts and minds of those under his command and knew, better thananyone she had met, how to shame others into action. The result was that although they did not get a great number to follow, there were twice as many as the woman thought there’d be. They even got Lander. Partly out of shame, she supposed, but more likely for the opportunity of barter goods.
It was only a short trek to the Makati wall, and because of this, everyone had agreed to leave the vehicles back with the others in case they needed to make a hasty retreat on the failure of the assault. Other reasons were given as well. Titus worried the sound of their clunkers would alert not only the column but also those in Makati. If that happened, then reinforcements would be called in by the district committee. These would arrive quickly, because if there was anyone still supporting the national and local governments it was Makati. Silence, no matter what, was going to be fundamental to success.
Once they arrived at the neighborhood surrounding Makati, the group took over some homes to make certain no one alerted the district. Most of the houses were now without functioning telephones, as was much of the city, but this didn’t mean there wasn’t someone, or several people, on the payroll of the police. All it would take would be one runner and they’d be found and killed. With that in mind, several houses were taken over just in time to hear the column coming up the road. It was moving at a crawl and was dangerously strung out. Synon could see Titus smiling as he lowered his binoculars.
“Everyone ready?” he asked the woman. She nodded, but was uncertain whether or not being in place was the same as ready. As the column filed by, militia and police hanging languidly over their weapons, smoking or talking, the air felt heavy, and the fear in the small bungalow they were hiding in was bitter on Synon’s tongue.
Several blocks from Makati, Pym pulled their considerably larger column over. It was time to sort out what they’d taken. Stretching, Pym glanced down the street and smiled. This had been a lot easier than he’d expected—and not a single shot. Adjusting the holster under his left arm, he mopped his face with a bandana—the heat was getting to him again. For a while this did not seem to bother him, but every now and then the humidity and heat banded together to give him a splitting headache—he could feel one of these coming on. Every time Pym took his luck out for a run, these appeared to follow.
“What,” Bannly asked nervously, “are we stopping for?”
“We’re not being followed. Good enough place to sort out what we’ve got here.” The elder didn’t like the sound of that, but he seemed to understand, for the moment at least, they were free and clear. So nervous was Bannly, however, that he set lookouts a couple of blocks in all directions. Titus saw no point in arguing, so he let the old man have his security blanket. While he did this, Synon waited. The look on her face was hardly more inspiring, but she was willing for him to do what he needed to. That they’d gotten away with the hijacking didn’t seem to want to sink in. Lander got it, and this hadn’t improved his mood. It didn’t take much perception to see that he was waiting for Titus to make a mistake and he’d be there to take the Beluga Fay from him and probably kill the man in the process.
“Get the prisoners.” Lander smiled at that; this part he always enjoyed. Pym didn’t like the man for many different reasons, but the enjoyment he took in inflicting pain had to top the list. Killing, Titus had seen on a couple of occasions, took the man to the point of orgasm. It wasn’t the madness that bothered Pym; it was the lack of control and focus this suggested. Taking the automatic from its holster, Synon followed his lead. “How many did we get?” Titus asked Essie.
“Cars?”
He nodded.
“Four, but one ran out of gas, and we had to leave it.”
“Strip it first?”
“Everything we could, while not falling too far behind.”
Pym nodded, waiting for the prisoners.
Each of the column vehicles had two men in them. Eight prisoners were not what he’d been counting on. Pym’s intention had been to grab one car—maybe two—but now he had three and spare parts from a fourth. That was all good, but having eight prisoners was not. As these were brought up, Titus began to feel a little easier—until he got a better look at them. “What happened here?” Pym asked Bannly.
“Lander was interrogating them.”
“Didn’t I say they were not to be harmed, Lander?”
“They were noisy—had to quiet them down.”
Essie rolled her eyes behind the man, and shook her head. Pym could see this, but didn’t respond to the information. He was, for the moment, stuck with Lander. His occasional usefulness made it impossible to get rid of him, and he was always efficient.
“There’s a chance for you and your people to walk away from this.” Pym began. Several around him shuffled about anxiously. It was then he noticed someone in the back of the guards. “Who’s she?”
“Was being guarded in the vehicle we had to abandon.” Synon answered.
“Put her in your car. You take care of her and make certain no one interferes with her.”
“Little late for that.” Essie groused.
“Who...”
“Who do you think?” Essie interrupted.
“Did he...”
“Didn’t get that far.”
“Lander, you take your fun o
ut on a prisoner like that again and I’ll have you shot.”
“She’s a Makati—they get fat while we starve.”
“Just once again and I’ll have you. Now piss off outta here.”
Seemed Lander knew enough to make himself scarce.
“Put her in your car, Synon, and keep her safe.”
Nodding, the woman took the prisoner and disappeared toward the front of the column.
“So,” speaking to the eight prisoners, “who’s got information to trade?”
“Trade for what?” A guard of middling years asked from the center of the group. Another elbowed him, but he pushed them aside and stepped up. “Trade for what?”
“I can keep that fellow I just threatened to shoot away from you.”
“What about letting me go?”
“It’ll have to be big. Is it?”
“You looking for fuel?”
Pym wanted a quiet word. “Send the others to the back of the column. Keep the guards safe—don’t let Lander near them.”
After the meeting with the guard, Titus called his people together again—including Lander. “We’ve found a fuel depot a few kilometers north of Makati.”
“That guard?” Essie asked.
Titus nodded.
“Big?”
“Enough to keep us going for a while, and there are supposed to be a couple of tanker trucks up there as well.”
“Convenient,” Lander sniped from the back.
“Glad you believe so because I’m sending you, Synon, and whoever will go with you to claim it.” Pym forced ahead before Lander could interrupt. “Take two of the police cars and their uniforms too. That should get you through the gate before they see you aren’t who they believe you are. After that, it’s up to you.”
“But...” Lander began.
“You are going, or you’re against the wall.”
Lander gave it up.
“What about the prisoners?” Bannly asked.
“What of them?” Pym had an idea of where this was going.
“We can’t leave them alive if we do this—they’ll know where the information came from and then the Governor will be coming after us.”
“I’m not sure...”
“He’s right.” Synon didn’t seem to like the idea, but was agreeing with Bannly nonetheless.
“Alright.” Titus didn’t want to do this, but their situation was strategic. “Give them to Lander and make sure he knows it’s to be fast and clean.”
“What happens to me now?” There was a coquette in the voice, but Pym wasn’t going to be taken in by that.
“Let’s begin with your name.”
“Glenna Budiman.” She appeared to have caught on to Pym’s coolness, and the woman dropped the voice, though Titus was certain it would not be far off. It was clear the woman understood she was negotiating for her life and would do whatever it took to save it.
“You are from Makati?”
“Yes.” Fingers worrying each other.
Glenna was a beautiful woman with skin a deep chocolate brown, faultless, and an athletic body, little hidden in a short, tight, blue cocktail dress. The shoes were matching cerulean stilettos. He wondered if the woman had worn these for the guards—was she taunting them or attempting to encourage commitment. Her hair, having fallen loose from its bun, was long—down to the middle of her back—and a shiny raven. The woman’s eyes were about as black. She was probably from the southern islands—or her people were. As Titus took this in, she again uncrossed her legs and let the right shoe dangle loosely from her toes.
Since getting on with the Beluga Fay, Titus had not had a woman—that was a long time ago—but this was not the place to work out his personal issues. As he considered the foot, Budiman abruptly stood and stepped up against him. Not tall, perhaps not more than one hundred and sixty centimeters, she had placed her face nearly into his chest and tilted it back just enough so he could see the black eyes. Glenna gently pushed her hips forward so her abdomen, tight and hard, brushed into his groin. Titus took her neck gently in his hand and pushed her back. “Not quite yet.”
“I want out.” The statement didn’t quite make sense, and she seemed to recognize this. “I want out of the city.”
“How can I help you?”
“As it happens, I believe quite a bit.”
“Is that what you were doing in the column?”
“No, I was going to meet my father. He is up north inspecting the Wall. My brother is there as well.”
“Inspecting?”
“Yes. Father is in the government—part of the Governor’s Cabinet.”
This caught Pym’s attention. “Yes, you could ransom me.”
“Or?”
“Do you want out of the city?”
“Yes.” The answer a whisper; though alone, Titus was worried someone might have returned. The warehouse they’d relocated to tended to carry voices that were little more than a whisper quite far. That was dangerous because there was no way to be certain who was who, nor what their agendas were. Those such as Lander were forthrightly stupid about their goals, but this left everyone else that was waiting for an opportunity. Here was a chance all of the Beluga would want a part of. Glenna, appearing to have seen something in Titus’s eyes, continued.
“Only you.”
“How many in your group?”
“Group?”
“You won’t be doing this on your own.”
“You’re not stupid. After that business today, I was certain you would be.”
“What do you mean?”
“That thing guarding me.”
“Ah, Lander—sorry about that.”
“His sort is easily handled, but I wondered if you all were like that.”
“Not all, but there are some left over.”
“You keep them around?”
“They have their uses. Back to the business about getting out and your group.” Budiman smiled and pushed back into him. This time he did not push her away. “My brother and some friends—small group, not more than a dozen of us at the moment.”
“At the moment?”
“The situation, even in Makati, is fluid. Some people die; some fall from favor and are forced to leave the district; others lose heart and give up; some even kill themselves. Suicide has been a growing problem behind Makati’s walls.”
“But not for you?”
“I want out.”
“How can I help you?”
“You are interested?” Cupping the man’s groin and squeezing, Glenna smiled.
“But not stupid.”
“What do you mean?” Picking her up, Pym turned the woman about and lay her on the table.
“This doesn’t mean anything.”
“Nothing.”
Afterward, she lay on the table—legs still about the man’s hips. One shoe had fallen off, and as she brought this up, Titus was intrigued by the brilliant white of the bottom of this matched against the chocolate of the upper part of the foot. Kissing the instep, he ran a tongue along this.
“It has been awhile for you?” she asked.
“What kind of help do you need?”
“You do not give up much—what’s your name?”
“Titus Pym.”
“That’s your real name?”
“Does it matter?”
“Like I said—not much.”
“What kind of help are you looking for?”
“The Wall guards are proving difficult.” Sitting—keeping the man inside of her. As she sat up, Titus kicked off his boots and stepped out of his trousers. His shirt was already open, so he let this fall to the floor. Glenna ran her fingers through the hair on his abdomen. “Our men don’t have much hair on their bodies.” He wasn’t sure what she was playing at, but he wanted the woman back on topic.
“What is so difficult about them?” taking her chin in his hand.
“At first we began to trade for goods beyond the Wall with precious stones. Currency, any currency, quick
ly lost most of its value after the blockade.”
He nodded.
“But after awhile, someone realized there were lots of desperate women in the city—then it was sex for goods, plus the stones.”
“You want protection.”
“And the help of someone who knows how to deal with such men.”
“Very well.”
“But only you.”
“Only me.”
“You just let her go?” Bannly was having trouble with what had been done, and without consulting any of the Beluga. “Why would you do that?”
“More useful back where she is than here as a toy for Lander and his crew.”
“They are too afraid of you—why did you really let her go?”
“Her father is in the government.” There was a deep silence following Synon’s sharp intake of breath.
“But she would have been worth a lot of food, medical supplies, and much more besides.” It had taken Bannly awhile to work up his nerve to make the observation. Synon nodded agreement.
“True, but better than that, Glenna’s agreed to broker a deal between us and the Governor’s office.”
“What...” Synon began, but Titus held up a hand.
“The Cartel, even some of the larger gangs, is beginning to pose a problem for the government—local and national. They need someone to take some of the pressure off the police, militia, and security forces.”
“We’re going against the Cartel?” Bannly’s voice had become nearly hysterical.
“Not against them—not directly, not yet.”
“Then what?” Synon wondered.
“They will, according to Glenna, need Intelligence about anything they may be planning.”
“How would we know what they are up to?” Bannly again.
“Our star is rising—we’re chipping into their trade, and our acquisition of weapons and vehicles has turned us into a threat. Sooner or later they will come to kill us, or to force us to join them. When that happens, we will already have people on the inside. This should give us a considerable edge.”