“Derek,” Scythe asked the med, “how is he?”
The young man who had been taking care of all their medical needs answered, “Better. His injuries are not life threatening; at this point, he just needs time to heal.” He lifted up the clipboard next to him, flipping through the pages, “Actually, he should be much worse off. He’s recovering at an amazing rate. A few of his wounds I thought would...” He looked askance at Faith and Harmony before continuing, “be more serious, but, like I said, he seems to be pulling through.”
Scythe nodded, “Good. Thank you, again.” He tried to find a small grin for Faith and Harmony. “That’s good news.”
Faith nodded, rearranging Will on her lap and giving him a faint smile of her own. “This is the last one?” Faith had been opposed to the operation from the beginning, arguing that the killing could not be justified, no matter what else had happened. When she had been unable to dissuade Scythe, she accepted his resolution, but things had been uneasy between them ever since.
Scythe shrugged, “We’ll see. I hope so.”
“I have...a feeling about this place, this Cho,” she offered uncertainly.
Scythe raised his eyebrows, “Yeah? What?” He remembered Mercy’s words: I just know, Auntie, like Mommy does, sometimes.
“He’s not going to be killed by you, not today. Still, I think things will be resolved here, somehow. I get a sense of...finality.”
“That doesn’t seem possible. The majority of the Scere L’ Eler aren’t even here...”
She shrugged her shoulders, acknowledging his doubt, “Sometimes I’m wrong.”
“Faith, I know you don’t like this...”
“No, I don’t, but it isn’t just what I think. I know that Ian would be appalled at you, and Lena, too. They wouldn’t want you to do this, not even for them.”
“It’s not just for them, Faith.”
“I know, and don’t think I’m not considering my own daughter as well, because I am sick with worrying about her. What you’ve done, though...it’s disgusting.”
“We don’t have time to talk about this right now. The killing had...”
“Not the killing, Scythe, not that. I’m talking about you.”
“Me?”
“It’s changing you...and I don’t just mean the murder of these people, I’m talking about the use of your power. It’s like rape, the way you’re doing it.”
“No, that’s not true,” Scythe gripped the door, his heart beating faster. A low laugh bubbled up inside him. Look at you, lying like a Human.
“We can’t talk about this here,” Grant interrupted from behind.
Scythe ignored him and looked at Harmony before asking in a harsh voice, “Is that what you think, too?”
“That is what it felt like. It was horrible, but,” she added, “I don’t see another way. I’m not with Faith on this one. I want them all to die for what they’ve done.”
“Don’t you see that it’s Scythe who is paying the price for your vengeance?” Faith objected. “Look at him.” She examined his face, shaking her head. “He’s killing himself.”
“That’s a little extreme, Faith,” Grant protested.
“Is it?” she snapped, before turning back to Scythe. “Who will you be when you’re done?”
Smoke stepped up to the door, “What is the holdup? We’ve got to get a move on here.”
Scythe made an effort to consider her words, but his typically sharp intellect failed him. Compared to the simplicity of the hunt, all the thinking was a real pain. Finally he said, “I’ll see what I can do, Faith, okay? I can’t make any promises, though, because we’re committed here.”
“You’ll do what you think you need to, and I can see you are ready to accept the price.” She leaned back against the van, shaking her head slowly and closing her eyes. “I know I’ll stand by and do nothing, because...because I want my daughter back.” Her words were strained as she whispered, “And later...later, I’ll have to live with that.”
Scythe couldn’t think of how to respond, so he just said, “We’ll be back soon.” He turned to see that the majority of people had moved away to give them some privacy. “Let’s go.”
Smoke asked as they moved towards the elevators, “What was that all about?”
“Faith is worried about me.”
“Yeah, well, me, too,” Smoke said. “You’re acting more and more like a nutcase.”
“I’m just tired.”
“I’m sure that’s part of it, but there’s something more to it than that. That look you gave Grant in the car was freaky. It was like you were deciding when to end him. You’re hearing that voice again, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but it’s not controlling me. It’s just bugging me.” A lot.
“Well, I’ve got my eye on you, so don’t worry. If I have to, I’ll take you down.” He smiled, adding, “But, so I won’t look like an asshole beating on some scrawny kid, I’ll blindfold myself first...and tie one hand behind my back.”
“Nice.”
“Hey, it’s all part of the service.”
“Just, keep the dose close, ‘cause I was thinking of offing Grant in the car,” Scythe confessed, meeting Smoke’s eyes. He lowered his voice, “And so you know, if it comes down to it, I won’t dose willingly.”
“Okay, no blindfold.”
“Come on, no jokes.”
Smoke’s arm snaked like lightning from Scythe’s shoulder, where it was resting, across the back of his neck and around, hooking onto the bicep of his other arm. Scythe’s hands grasped at the choke hold, but it was as hard as iron and getting tighter. His vision started to blur, before Smoke lightened up a bit and whispered in his ear.
“I’m not dropping my guard on you again, Mismatch. I’ve seen what you can do in a rage. I’ve watched you kill without blinking, taste the blood of your victims, and look around for more.” His tone was dead serious, and he gave Scythe a jerk to emphasize his point. “For your part, you need to focus on maintaining control. Got it?” He let go, unwrapping his arms, again with amazing speed, and bringing his hand to rest again on Scythe’s shoulder casually.
Scythe, his head a little light, said, “I got it. Thanks.”
“There’s the Scythe I know, thanking people for choking him.”
“It does make me feel better, though, knowing that you’re taking...all of this...seriously.” They entered the elevator with Grant, Leandra, Ungol and three of Grant’s soldiers.
Grant said to the second group that were waiting outside the elevator, “We’ll wait at level 35.” Then he pushed the button.
The elevator started to rise immediately. When it paused at the twenty-third floor, the people waiting for the car opted to take the next one after taking one look at the occupants of their car. When the door opened on the thirty-fifth floor, they were surprised to be met by a woman in a business suit. She tipped her head, stating, “Gentlemen, and lady, Mr. Cho awaits you in his private residence on the top floor. I will escort you there, if you like.”
“That would be acceptable,” said Grant, moving over a little to allow her access to the panel.
She used a key from her pocket to turn a lock marked ‘Penthouse,’ before turning slightly sideways to address them again. “Unfortunately, your companions in the parking garage are not invited to meet with Mr. Cho. They will be detained there until you are finished. I hope that is agreeable.”
“Perhaps we could avoid conflict by speaking with them?” Grant suggested.
“There is no need. It is already taken care of. There was no...unfortunate incident.”
Grant’s surprised look prompted her to say, “As soon as your car passed the tenth floor, our operatives arrived in five armored trucks. Your van and all of your people have been secured.” After a few seconds, she added, “They will be unharmed when you return to them after your meeting with Mr. Cho.”
When Grant looked at Scythe, he nodded, saying, “She’s telling the truth, as far as she knows.”
“Of course I am,” she said, mildly offended. She turned to the door. “Here we are.”
They followed her through the doors into a large, comfortable living area with several chairs and couches surrounding a fire pit, the smoke from which vented through an elaborate chimney in the ceiling. A wall of windows overlooked the city.
“Please make yourself comfortable. Mr. Cho will be right out. Can I offer you a drink?” She walked over to the bar.
“No, thank you.”
The clear glass protecting an expensive painting on the wall to their left began to cloud. It quickly filled up with a digital image: an interview of a man they recognized as the guard who had chosen to not fight at the warehouse.
“So, this guy...I thought he was a kid, I mean, he looked like a kid, but then, he wasn’t...anyway, he says to Derril, ‘I have a deal for you.’ Derril and Sheila just laugh, but this kid is dead serious. He says, ‘The deal is, you leave my friends alone and you can rule the world’...or something like that...‘but, until I see my friends again, I’ll come after you, and whoever else I need to, until I get them back.’ And then Derril does his usual, ‘Let me test your will power,” but the kid interrupts and says, ‘No, let me test yours.’ Then he kills everyone in the room, except for Derril...”
Scythe didn't react to Smoke’s stare and shaking head, but he did grin at Ungol’s snort of protest and comment, “That’s nice. I guess I was just sitting around picking my nose.”
“And you,” a voice said from somewhere out of the frame.
“Yeah, well, he said he wouldn’t touch us if we didn’t attack, so I wanted to see, you know...if he was telling the truth.” He paused, remembering, “There were two or three others, too, who didn’t fight, and he didn’t touch them either, but the rest...they were wasted in like fricking one minute, even the ones in the trap doors.”
“What about Derril?”
“He was there when I left, and he was freaked out. Look, can I go? I want to go hug my wife and kids. I thought I was gonna check out today.”
The picture faded, and Scythe turned to the man standing near the woman by the bar; he was holding a drink that shook slightly in his hand.
“You’ve caused quite a lot of problems for them this week,” he said, addressing them all, his eyes looking over Grant momentarily before settling on Scythe. He opened his mouth to continue, but was cut off.
“No time for speeches,” Scythe said, walking towards him. Grant followed at his back. He crossed the room, reached out and took Cho’s arm, but paused when the man didn’t pull away. The man had an air of fearful resignation, like he had been expecting to be murdered and was accepting it. Scythe looked around, noticing that Smoke as well as several others were uncomfortable at the lack of security. He looked at Grant, “This is him, right?”
“I believe so,” answered Grant, clearly uneasy as well.
“This looks like him,” Scythe said, before addressing the small man. “What’s going on?”
“You should know that I am just a figurehead in this organization; all of the Humans are. We, myself and those you have already killed, just communicate orders from the people in charge to those in the Human sector.” He began to sweat, “I have been authorized to make a deal with you, or, rather, I am to accept the one that you yourself offered.”
“What?” Scythe asked, steering the man by the shoulder to a chair. The man gratefully fell into it, gripping the arms with his hands.
“That is what the video is for...to confirm that the Scere accepts your offer to return your friends to you, so long as they swear to keep information about the organization secret for the remainder of their lives. In return, you will cease your...actions against us.”
“That’s it?” asked Scythe suspiciously.
“In addition, you may be contacted in the future with offers of employment, for which you will be compensated richly and for which you are fully free to refuse, without retribution.”
“What types of ‘employment’?” asked Grant.
“I was not given that information, but I expect, now that they have felt your resolve, it would not be anything that you are adverse to.”
“You’re saying that I’m free to turn them down, at any time?”
“Yes, I am to emphasize that,” Cho affirmed, starting to relax.
Smoke stepped forward. “What about Lena?” he asked in Kin.
Cho nodded rapidly before answering in semi-fluent Kin, “She and the girl will be released immediately. It will take a day to transport them here. You will see them tomorrow.”
“They are unharmed?” Smoke asked.
Cho squirmed in the chair, “They may have suffered some from their experience, I’m afraid, but,” he assured them after seeing Smoke’s reaction, “they are physically unharmed.”
“Why don’t you have any security, Mr. Cho?” asked Grant.
“Well, I don’t really need any, do I?” he answered, his heart rate accelerating. “I’m just here to negotiate.”
Scythe felt the urge to find out his way what the man knew, but the strange way things were going made him cautious. He also hadn’t forgotten Faith’s words, or her assertion that he was raping the minds of their subjects. He stepped back, examining Cho more closely.
“Are you satisfied?” Cho asked, squirming under Scythe’s appraisal. He looked like he wanted say something else, but he stopped himself.
Scythe didn’t answer, but instead looked over to his friends, then around the room. Something...
He walked to the long panel of windows, all without shades or curtains. In the room, no evidence of monitoring devices was apparent, but the windows could not be covered.
He muttered, his eyes scanning the tens of buildings tall enough and close enough to harbor a threat, “Snipers? Or cameras?” He couldn’t spot anything, but, feeling an invisible itch between his shoulder blades, he moved back into the room, away from the glass. He turned back to Grant, “Well, what do you think?”
“I think this is a trap to catch you using your interrogation technique,” Grant said. "We’ve been very careful to keep it under wraps...” That was his way of saying that the only ones who had witnessed it outside of their team were dead.
“Maybe,” Scythe commented, his eyes moving from a suddenly very nervous Cho to his receptionist, standing quietly by the bar. Was there a small glow around her, or was he imagining it?
“Well, have you made up your mind?” Cho drew their attention back to himself.
Scythe translated for his friends. Smoke shrugged and Leandra nodded.
Grant said, “It sounds better than our current plan, and it's much safer, if they keep their bargain.”
Scythe agreed with him. As long as the Scere kept their word, he was getting what he wanted, and he wouldn’t have to crawl his way out of any more soiled minds to get it.
He addressed Cho, “I assume that there will be no investigation or repercussions for our previous actions.”
Smiling with obvious relief, Mr. Cho stood and said, “Naturally, that is easily done for us.”
Scythe said, “Then we are in agreement, Mr. Cho.”
Chapter 26
“They’re late,” complained Smoke for the fifth time. He had completely lost his usual composure and had been pacing back and forth in the conference room for ten minutes.
“Brother,” barked Leandra from her place by the door.
Startled by her tone, he stopped and turned to her. He opened his mouth, his eyes sparking with anger, but caught himself at the last moment. He expelled a breath, rubbed his eyes roughly and crossed to the long table where he threw himself into a chair. He sat there, slowly bringing himself under control with measured breathing. His arms fell into their usual position across his chest.
Minimally satisfied, Leandra commented to no one in particular, “I can’t wait to get out of this place.”
Scythe, thinking of the Scere L’ Eler infesting both the Human and Kin populations, shrugged his shoulde
rs; getting away from Menelaus wasn’t getting away from the problem. The names of the key members he knew of in Poinsea popped into his head without warning, reminding him that his home was not the place he thought it was.
His hand closed in a fist on the table as he pushed away again his worries about the ‘project’ that Lena and Mercy were returning from. He didn’t know what he would do if they were hurt, but he kept catching himself thinking like the voice deep inside of him, the one that wanted to make someone pay for everything that had happened to his friends. However, shining on a terminal in front of him was a list of people that would be safeguarded by his restraint: the names of his friends, his chosen family. He grit his teeth, knowing that, in the end, the Scere L’ Eler had succeeded in controlling him in exactly the way they wanted to.
The door opened and Grant strode in with his aide Fiola at his back. “They’re here. We’re going to meet them in one of the receiving bays.” He hesitated, his gaze taking in the tension in Scythe and the other Blades, “I’ve already sent for Faith; she’ll be meeting us there.”
“Let’s go,” said Scythe, picking up the data pad with his list on it.
Grant nodded and headed back into the hallway. Scythe quickly caught up to him, and, noticing his agitation, asked, “What’s the matter?”
“I’m not sure...just a feeling I got from the communication.” He glanced aside at Scythe. “Like something was wrong with their delivery.”
“With Lena or Mercy?” asked Scythe, his brows drawing together.
“I’m not sure...it's just a feeling. Let’s wait and see before we jump to conclusions.”
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