[Necromunda 10] - Lasgun Wedding
Page 17
“Mr. Bristol,” he said, and then corrected himself. “I mean, Jackal. I know how you like to use first names.”
Bobo marvelled once again at the speed with which information moved around the Spire. He bowed and said, “At your service…”
The duke picked up on the hint immediately. “You may call me Derokin,” he said and then laughed. “My actual name is much longer and more difficult, even for me to pronounce. My mother was quite interested in preserving the ancient culture of our ancestors and went a bit overboard on naming.”
Bobo smiled. On the outside, most of the Spire nobles seemed so kind and affable, but only when they thought you an equal or needed something from you. So far, none of them had any respect for anyone beneath the wall.
“Please sit and order,” said Derokin. “It takes forever to get your food here. I guess they have to wait for the doors to line up between the dining hall and the kitchens. At least we have the view to pass the time.”
Bobo looked out the bank of windows and saw that they were just in time to witness the colour shift from orange to red to purple as the sunlight streamed through the clouds. He had thought that only someone like him could truly appreciate that sight, but perhaps this duke was different after all. Bobo tore his gaze from the window and ordered a steak with all the trimmings. He had no idea what that meant, but he figured he’d be able to eat the steak if nothing else.
After the sun finally set and the spectacular light show concluded, Derokin turned back to Bobo and said, “Well, we should talk before our meals come. I always like to get business out of the way before a meal.”
Bobo took a sip of the wine that had been placed in front of him and marvelled at its smoothness and heady aroma. “A fine strategy,” he said. “How may I be of service to the House of Ty?”
“Well,” said Derokin. “We have been having some trouble in our dealings with House Ran Lo,” he said.
Bobo kept his demeanour calm, nodded his head, and even managed to smile at the appropriate times as Derokin laid out a plan whereby Bobo would make his way down to Hive City and blow up a Van Saar weapons plant that had an exclusive contract with House Ran Lo. The duke would then be able to sell his weapons made in a different plant for a much greater profit while the Van Saar plant was rebuilt.
“And how do I limit collateral damage?” asked Bobo. “A weapons plant is sure to make quite a large hole in the City. Not to mention the potential for a massive hive quake.”
“Oh, most certainly,” said Derokin. “It will be spectacular. But I doubt we’ll feel anything up here other than a small rumble. Just make sure it appears to be an accident. Shouldn’t be too much of a problem, though. Those downhivers aren’t all that bright.”
Bobo hid his reaction behind the glass as he drained its contents. He waved at the waiter for another glass. It was going to be a long night.
Kal ran blindly through Nemo’s lair, opening and glancing through doors, looking for the source of the battle sounds. Every once in while, he’d feel another explosion rock the entire building. He had some idea of where he was going. He’d lied twice to the twins. He had been here enough times to sort of know his way around. He’d just never been through that particular secret entrance before. Nemo undoubtedly had several.
He finally found a door that opened onto a staircase leading down. The battle sounded much closer now. He checked the levels on his laspistols and patted his pocket where he’d put Seek’s and Destroy’s extra power packs. He slipped down the stairs and glanced around the wall at the bottom.
There, in the middle of the room, stood a large man wearing an Orrus spyrer rig holding one of Nemo’s henchmen off the ground by his neck. The rest of the guards were already dead. “Tell me where I can find the one-armed brute that blew me up,” he growled.
“I think you’ll find he can talk a lot better if you don’t crush his windpipe,” said Kal.
The spryer whirled around and pointed his other hand at Kal. From his vantage point, Kal could see the tip of the explosive bolt snap into the chamber. He held his hands up, palms forward, leaving his fingers lightly on the triggers of his laspistols, just in case.
“Whoa there, big fella,” said Kal. “I’m on your side.” Kal had no idea if that was true, but considering his options this deep into Nemo’s base, it seemed safer to be on the side of the Spyrer.
The sweaty, heavily-bearded and yet oddly bald man gave Kal a quizzical look. “Jerico?” he said. “Kal Jerico? You’re supposed to be getting ready for your wedding.”
Then it started to click in with Kal. He’d met this behemoth before, sans spyrer rig, of course. He was some military general or something of Helmawr’s. In fact, Kal recognized the man’s voice. He’d been talking to Valtin remotely in his office when Kal had been eavesdropping.
What was his name? Kal snapped his fingers. “Kraperin, right?” he said.
“Katerin,” he replied, deadpan. “Captain Katerin.”
Kal snapped his fingers again. “Right, right. Valtin gave me some time off to come down and help you get the package back.”
“I don’t need any help,” said Katerin.
The guard’s eyes were beginning to bulge and his face was turning blue from lack of air.
“That’s exactly what I told Valtin,” said Kal. “But here I am. So why don’t you put that poor guard down and let’s find that satchel. I’ll just follow your lead.”
Katerin looked back and forth between Kal and the nearly unconscious guard for a moment before dropping the man and pointing his armed fist at him. “Talk, you!” he growled.
Kal smiled. Military men were so easy to manipulate. All any of them wanted was a little recognition for their work. That and the chance to blow things up from time to time.
“The guard coughed for a minute before looking up and asking What was the question?”
“Where’s the one-armed brute who blew me up?” said Katerin.
Kal could tell the guard had no idea what Katerin meant, so he cut in. “Where’s Nemo holding Feg?” When Katerin glared at him, Kal shrugged. “The one-armed brute is Vandal Feg. He has the satchel. He blew you up?”
“Somebody did while I was following this Feg character.”
Kal and Katerin looked back at the guard. “Well?” they both asked at the same time.
“In the torture room,” said the guard.
Katerin reached down and picked the guard up by the collar. “Take us there,” he said, adding under his breath, “Man’s going to pay for trying to blow me up.”
As the guard led them down into the recesses of Nemo’s lair, Kal got an idea. “You know, Kater… captain,” he said. “I doubt it was Feg who tried to blow you up. It was probably Nemo. You know, master spy. You were in his tunnel. He probably did it to protect his secret base; not that it helped though.”
“Makes sense,” said Katerin.
Of course it does, thought Kal, smiling. The best lies always make sense. Kal had no idea he’d hit on the exact truth. He’d just pieced together a convincing story based on the information he knew; a story intended to make Captain Katerin behave exactly like Kal needed him to behave during the next stage of plan W.
House Ran Lo had a much different feel to it than House Greim or any other spot within the Spire that Bobo had seen. Where Greim had been imposing with marble floors and columns, the Ran Lo estate felt more like a garden. They were blessed with southern exposure and had put it to great use, replacing nearly the entire back wall of the estate with windows.
Bobo could see thousands of pinpoints of light in the night sky through those windows, and once again marvelled at the grand beauty of the Spire, which was so tainted by the lust for power of all its residents.
He entered the estate through a wooden gazebo bedecked with tangles of ivy that seemed to pulse and constrict as he brushed past them, climbing roses with enormous thorns and some odd-looking plant with fuzzy foliage that looked more like tentacles than leaves. On the other side, he walked
down a path of pebbles set in a garden of spiked grass, exotic plants that had deep, pitcher-like bulbs, trees with waving, low-hanging limbs and bushes adorned with bright red flowers and long stamens that seemed to wave at him as he passed. In fact, throughout his trip through the garden, Bobo couldn’t shake the feeling that all the plants were watching and waiting for him to step off the path.
He passed many side paths curving around towards the back of the estate. He also passed guards at regular intervals. Somehow they all knew who he was and why he was here — something even Bobo didn’t know yet. In the centre of the garden stood a mansion of natural wood and glass.
The Ran Lo manor seemed to almost grow naturally out of the garden. It was a large, low building; just a single floor, but had no right angles that Bobo could see. Even the door was oddly shaped, almost like a peanut.
The door opened as he approached. He entered a circular room with a wood floor that seemed to have been sliced from an enormous tree. Rings of alternating browns emanated from the centre and grew in size all the way out to the edges of the room. Bobo wanted to get a closer look, to see if it was truly natural or simply another unnatural design, but a manservant appeared from behind the door.
A small man, even by Bobo’s standards, the manservant was also quite old. He walked with the stoop of the aged, but kept a permanent smile on his leathery, olive-yellow face. He motioned for Bobo to follow and led him into the house.
As he walked behind the manservant, Bobo soon realized he would need to be escorted out of this mansion. It was a maze of strangely shaped rooms all connected to one another through open doorways. There were no halls and no doors inside but each room had so many exits to other rooms, it was dizzying.
The manservant finally led him into an office. In the middle of the room sat a middle-aged man behind a large, birch desk. He had straight hair that might once have been jet black, but was now mottled with grey. A small nose jutted out beneath oval eyes on his almond-coloured face. It was the eyes that drew Bobo’s attention. They seemed to pierce him as soon as he walked in.
The man stood and bowed slightly. “Good evening, Mr. Bobo. Thank you so much for coming to meet with me in my humble house.”
Bobo was so taken aback by the gracious nature of his host that he completely forgot to ask to be called by his first name. “I appreciate the invitation… and the gift,” he said.
The elder Ran Lo waved his hand at a high-backed, leather chair. “Please sit and we shall conduct our business. Sing will bring us some tea.”
As Bobo took his seat, the manservant left, closing the door.
“What can I do for you?” Bobo trailed off, finally realizing that the elderly man had used his real name.
Ran Lo smiled a very disconcerting smile. Not quite an all-knowing Kal Jerico smirk, but close.
After a rather long pause Ran Lo said, “It’s not what you can do for me, Mr. Bobo, but what I can do for you.”
There followed another pause. Bobo was still smart enough to not give anything more away than he already had. He scanned the wall behind Ran Lo looking for any means of escape or any weapons.
Ran Lo kept his eyes firmly on Bobo. “I can free you of Hermod Kauderer’s grasp, or rather pay you to free yourself.”
He tossed Bobo a large envelope. “A down payment for your services,” said Ran Lo.
Bobo opened the envelope. It was jammed full with credits. Something stuck up from the bundle — a photo. He pulled it out.
“That,” said Ran Lo, “is my insurance policy. A Miss Jenn Strings, I believe. Quite lovely by downhive standards. She’s under the watchful eye of someone in my employ, a small lady I believe you know as Madam Noritake.”
Bobo reminded himself to breathe. He needed to stay focused, but the thought of Jenn in trouble made his heart rate quicken and his breath run shallow.
“You will take care of Hermod Kauderer for me, Mr. Bobo or Madam Noritake will take care of Jenn for you.”
He glanced at an ornate clock with hands that looked like tree branches and numbers fashioned from leaves. “Oh my,” he said. “You’d best hurry. You don’t want to be late for your meeting with Hermod.”
Sing came in with the tea on a tray. “I’m sorry you won’t be able to stay for tea, Mr. Bobo,” said Ran Lo. “Mr. Sing will show you the way out. Please conclude our business before you leave the Spire. Good night.”
Bobo left the Ran Lo grounds in a daze. What had he gotten himself into? What had he gotten Jenn into? He ran towards the library, completely forgetting to follow Kauderer’s safety protocols.
It didn’t take Kal and Katerin long to make their way to the torture chamber. Katerin had already wiped out a significant portion of Nemo’s guards. Nemo must have called in all of his guards as soon as the spyrer-suited warrior had breached the lair. That plan had backfired as it left the rest of the building completely empty.
Kal was beginning to worry that Nemo might have taken Feg and escaped already, or worse, killed the bruiser to keep his secret safe. They would know soon enough. Their guide showed them the door to the torture chamber, but before he could open it, Kal pistol-whipped the poor guard at the base of the neck. He dropped at their feet and then Kal opened the door.
A hail of bullets screamed into the hallway from inside. Kal dived to the side, hoping the walls of Nemo’s base were made of heavy-duty rockcrete.
“Autocannon,” he yelled at Katerin. “Looks like they’ve been waiting for us.”
“Now this is more like it,” said Katerin. “Let’s see how they like this…”
He locked two shells into place and, just as Kal shouted “Nooo!”, fired them into the room. “Feg may be in there, too,” yelled Kal. “We need him alive.”
He had to admit that the autocannon had stopped, though. Kal crawled forward and peered inside. He could see the huge barrel of the cannon still spinning in the middle of the room, but there was nobody at the controls anymore. A shadow moved towards the big gun from the side. Kal jumped to his feet and ran forward, firing with both pistols.
Blasts impacted the back wall to either side of the guard moving towards the autocannon. Kal re-sighted and shot again. This time both shots hit their mark and the man dropped to the ground with holes in his chest and stomach.
“I’m going for the cannon,” said Kal. “Cover me!”
He sprinted forward, not even waiting for a reply. He heard the unmistakable sound of explosive shells being launched behind him and ducked as he ran.
A moment later, Kal was standing behind the auto-cannon, which had been set up on a tripod. He whirled it around and began spraying the room with bullets. Guards dived and rolled or died where they were standing. As he pelted the room with gunfire, Kal could see they weren’t in the torture room, but in a guard post.
The autocannon sat in the middle. To each side were several tables, presumably for the guards to use for eating and playing cards. The tables had been overturned to use as barricades, but they did little to slow the barrage of bullets from their own heavy weapon. A row of thick metal doors with small, bar-covered windows spanned the back wall of the room. They’d found Nemo’s prison block.
“It’s beautiful!” yelled Kal as he held the trigger down and swept the gun back and forth around almost the entire perimeter of the room. No need to worry about collateral damage. Even if he hit Katerin, the noble captain’s rig would surely protect him. Then the gun jammed. A moment later, the guards who had hidden behind the farthest tables stood back up and opened fire again.
Kal dove behind the autocannon and crawled away looking for cover. He found an overturned table and crawled behind it, being careful not to slide in the pool of blood. Peeking over the top with his laspistols in hand, Kal watched as Katerin stomped to the far end of the room, right into the middle of the guards behind the last table and began bashing heads with his hydraulic powered fists. It was bloody and it was short.
“Which one’s Nemo?” said Katerin, looking at the pile of dead b
odies around him.
“None of them,” said Kal. “My guess is that Nemo’s with Feg. That’s his only bargaining chip left.” Kal looked around the room. There was the door they had entered, four cell doors along the back wall and one more door on each side. “One of these two,” he said, pointing to the side doors.
Katerin didn’t wait to talk strategy. He simply kicked the bodies out of his way and opened the nearest door. Kal shrugged and waited to see what would happen next.
Katerin raised his hands, clicked two shells into place and entered. “You Nemo?” he asked as he went through the door.
Kal slipped around the table and moved towards the door, making sure he couldn’t be seen by anyone in the next room. He listened to the exchange as he moved.
“Stop right there,” said Nemo. Kal knew that muffled, yet incredibly sinister voice anywhere. “One more step and Mr. Feg’s head becomes a molten puddle of goo.”
“That satchel is royal property,” said Katerin. “If you destroy that man’s head, you will be obstructing a royal inquiry. The penalty for that is death.”
Kal shook his head. Nobles. Hrmph. The man had no tact. No flair. Kal peered through the crack in the door to locate Nemo. He needed more information before he acted. Most of the room was blocked from view as Katerin had stopped on the other side of the door, but he could just make out the glint off the master spy’s dark helmet in the middle of the room.
Nemo wasn’t one to make idle threats, so he must have some weapon trained on Feg, although Kal couldn’t see the one-armed scummer yet. One thing Kal knew about dealing with Nemo was that the only way to bargain with him was to change the odds. Kal fingered his laspistol, stepped out from behind the door, sighted and fired.
His shot flew true, blasting a meltagun right out of Nemo’s hand.
“Jerico!” screamed Nemo. He reached into his jacket and tossed something at them as he dived to the side.
The room exploded with light and sound. Nemo had thrown a flash bomb. Kal was blinded, but he was pretty sure the Orrus rig came complete with a photo visor or at least photo contacts. Katerin should be able to see.