Betrayal: Starship Renegades, #3

by S. J. Bryant

  She didn't know what kind of people the landlord usually dealt with, but he'd just shrugged and said fine, as if he got that kind of request all the time.

  Kari's gaze slid to the side, to the time display set into the wall. Four. So who was in the hallway?

  Wren could have come down the corridor without being heard. Kari knew that. What did it mean that she'd heard a footstep? Was it someone else? Did Wren want Kari to think it was someone else? Or, was Wren letting Kari know that she was there? Like some kind of hangman whistling on his way to the gallows.

  Kari tensed and clutched her plasma pistol close, her finger on the trigger.

  Silence outside, but Kari knew there was someone there, she could feel it in the slight movement of the air, in the sense of not-quite-stillness. A foot scuffed.

  "I know you're in there."

  Wren.

  Kari tensed, pointing the gun at the door. It would take a dozen shots at least before her small pistol made it through the door, but better to go down fighting than like an animal begging for its life.

  "I don't suppose you'll open the door?" Wren said. "Make this easier on both of us."

  Kari's arms shook. It felt like she'd been running for most of her life. Couldn't she just lie down and rest?

  "You know I'm getting in there one way or another," Wren said. "Why not save me the hassle?"

  "Go away," Kari said. She wished her voice didn't shake so much but she was just so damn tired. And scared. Who wouldn't be scared with a Guild assassin right outside their door?

  "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

  "Me?" Kari said, anger taking over from fear. "Me? You're the one that agreed to take a contract on my life!"

  "You know I don't have a choice."

  "We always have a choice."

  Silence for a moment.

  Kari imagined Wren pulling her lock-picking equipment out of her pocket and fiddling with the door. How long would it take her to crack it? It was supposed to be a secure door, but Wren could get through anything with enough time.

  "Wren?" Kari said.

  "What?"

  "Don't do this."

  "No option, Captain."

  Kari didn't drop the gun from the door but her heart sank deeper into her chest. Filth covered her skin and caked her clothes; she hadn't had the chance to wash properly since emerging from the forest. She didn't want to die like this, covered in mud and leaves, half-starved and scared to death.

  No. She refused to die that way.

  "If you come in here," Kari said. "I'll kill us both."

  A stillness from the other side of the door. Kari imagined that perhaps Wren's hands had fallen still, had stopped picking the lock. She'd be analyzing, weighing up everything she knew and had seen about Kari.

  "You wouldn't do it," Wren said after what felt like hours.

  Kari pretended that the empty bottle of beer at her side was actually a bomb. She pictured it in her mind until she almost believed it. She had to believe it, or she'd never convince Wren.

  "Wouldn't I?" Kari said. She poured all of her rage into her voice, hiding the waiver and letting venom take full force. "Wouldn't I? After everything you've done."

  "You wouldn't leave Piper."

  Now Kari could hear the gentle tap and scrape of tools inside the lock. It wouldn't be long now.

  "If you come in here and I do nothing, I'm leaving her anyway. At least this way, I'm doing it on my own terms and I'm taking you with me."

  The scraping continued. "You're not the type."

  "Oh?" Kari said. She thought about Piper, about what she would do to make sure her sister stayed safe: anything. "Even though I know that once you kill me, the Guild will probably give you a job for Piper?" As Kari said the words, she knew they were true. Once Wren killed her and reported it to the Guild, they'd want Piper dead as well—or at least whatever Imperium agency they were working for would want her dead, or returned to them.

  And Wren would do the job.

  If she killed Kari, then she'd have no problem killing Piper.

  Kari sat up straighter, gripping her gun with both hands so that her aim steadied. It had taken her this whole time to realize what she should have known straight away. She had to stay alive, because she was the only thing standing between Wren and Piper. She'd been stupid to think that the killing would stop with her, that it didn't matter in the end if she died, so long as Piper was safe, because there was no such thing.

  "There is no contract for Piper," Wren said, but the scraping had stopped.

  "Not yet," Kari said. "But your Guild is working for the Imperium now."

  "No," Wren said. "The Guild works for no one."

  Kari tried not to get too far ahead of herself. Her thoughts still moved with the speed of thickened tar but she had the sense that she was on to something. If she could just grab it. "Really?" she said, buying time. "They're taking a lot of Imperium jobs then."

  "Coincidence," Wren said. "Good money."

  "If the Guild are doing it for the money, then they may as well be working for the Imperium."

  "You have no idea what you're talking about."

  "Can you honestly tell me, that if you finish the job on me, that they won't tell you to get Piper?"

  Silence.

  Calm passed over Kari like a warm blanket. She had some truth, finally. It wasn't a pleasant truth but it was there, as plain in Wren's silence as if she'd said it out loud.

  "So what now?' Kari said.

  Still no response.

  Kari strained. Perhaps Wren had got through the lock while she'd been talking and was getting ready to dive through. She'd probably worked out where Kari was by the sound of her voice, so it would be an easy thing to reach around the door and fire a few shots into the corner where Kari sat.

  Kari eased herself forward, spreading her weight to avoid any noise, and inched away from her corner until she crouched just behind the door. When Wren opened it, she'd have a few precious seconds to fire first. Perhaps she stood a chance after all.

  Kari stayed crouching. Her legs ached and shook with the effort but she couldn't afford to move. One sound and Wren would know where she was. Kari's shoulders burned from holding her gun.

  Why wasn't Wren making her move? Why was she dragging out the torture even longer than it had to be?

  Kari's back ached and she longed to lower her weapon. It felt like she'd been crouched behind the door for hours.

  She eased her gaze to the side to catch the time display. Half an hour. She'd been crouched behind the door for half an hour!

  So what the hell was Wren waiting for?

  Kari couldn't take it anymore. She needed to move or she risked all of her muscles seizing up and being useless, so she tensed, ready to dive to the side.

  "Wren?"

  Nothing.

  "Wren?"

  Nothing.

  Kari crept as quietly as she could to the door and peered through the spy hole. Nothing. She strained to see down the hallway but it was empty too.

  Wren had gone.

  CHAPTER 25

  Wren slipped out of the safehouse—unseen by the landlord—and ducked around the corner, into a deep shadow cast by the squat brick building. She leaned against the wall, knees trembling.

  What the hell had just happened?

  She'd gone up to kill Kari. That was the job. But then Kari had started talking. Why had Wren listened? Kari had got inside her head by talking about the next job, about how it would probably be Piper, and then Wren couldn't help thinking about the job after that, and the next and the next. When did it end?

  She'd always had in the back of her head that eventually her debt to the Guild would be paid and she'd be truly free to take or leave the jobs she wanted. But wasn't that just another lie? To pay off her debt to the Guild would take another thirty years at least, and then what? What time would be left for her 'freedom' and that's if she even lived that long.

  She swallowed, sinking deeper into the s
hadows. It had been a long time since she'd felt this out of control of her own body. She suspected that if she tried to throw her knife, she'd miss. Her trembling hands gave her away. How long since her hands had shaken? She couldn't even remember the last time.

  It wasn't right. She was a Guild-trained assassin, she shouldn't be so affected by mere words. What did words matter? And so what if the next job was Piper? Atoms to atoms.

  Wren whispered the words to herself but for the first time that she could remember, they offered no comfort. She couldn't help thinking about all the things she wanted to do and see. But how could she? How many more jobs would the Guild expect her to finish before they released her? Hundreds? Thousands?

  Her thoughts snapped back to the bar and the woman, Hong, she'd met there. She was an ex-assassin and hadn't she said something similar? That there was no getting free of the Guild, not really? Not honestly anyway.

  That bitch. This was her fault.

  Wren pushed away from the wall, anger replacing fear and uncertainty.

  Hong was the one who had put the ridiculous thoughts into her head. She should have reported her to the Guild straight away. But it wasn't too late. Wren would take Hong down herself, right now before she had a chance to get off-world. No wonder she hadn't been herself, had struggled to find Kari and had got distracted. It was Hong. In the depths of her mind she'd known that the woman was out there, unpunished.

  That settled it.

  Wren strode out of the shadows and into the sunlight. Warmth coated her shoulders and she held her head high. Hong had been overflowing with misplaced confidence. She probably hadn't even left Ryevo yet. Wren would be able to find her before nightfall and finish things. Then she could focus on the real job.

  She stormed through the city streets toward the bar where she'd encountered Hong. She didn't expect her to still be there, but she'd seemed like a regular. The chances were pretty good that someone would know where she lived, or where she'd be hiding.

  People got out of Wren's way, pressing themselves to the sides of the street like the people of Zenith when a crystal hunter went past. They avoided looking directly at her, as if afraid that they'd draw her attention.

  Wren ignored them. There were bigger targets.

  Ten minutes later, she shoved open the door of the bar. Noise and chatter surrounded her. She scanned the crowd for a likely local but her gaze ground to a stop at the third stool along the bar.

  Hong.

  The arrogant shit hadn't even left the bar let alone the planet.

  Wren grinned and weaved through the crowd, slipping into the stool beside her. How would she do it? A knife to the kidney? Poison in her drink? Or maybe she'd invite Hong outside for a real fight.

  "It won't work," Hong said.

  Wren blinked, realized that she'd been staring. A rookie mistake. "What?"

  "You won't be able to kill me."

  Wren gestured to the barman to bring her a glass of whatever Hong was drinking.

  It tasted nice enough, like apple juice with a faint kick of alcohol. As she sipped, she used her tongue to remove a tiny capsule from the side of her back tooth and let it fall into the glass. It didn't bubble, but dissolved into the amber drink without a trace.

  She held her glass tight. Now she just had to wait for a chance to switch. Shouldn't be too hard. Hong would be unpracticed, and she'd never had to come up against Wren before.

  "What makes you think I want to kill you?" she said by way of distraction.

  "Why else would you storm in here with that look on your face?"

  Wren shrugged. "Maybe I just needed a drink."

  Hong took a sip from her glass and then placed it on the bar near her elbow, just a few inches from Wren's. Any moment now…

  "Right," Hong said. "So, the job isn't going well then."

  Wren scowled. She didn't want to think about Kari or the job right now—she had a more important task to finish. "None of your business."

  "Whatever you say." Hong released her glass and ran a hand through her hair. "Although seeing as you've come to kill me, I think it is."

  Wren waited until the exact second when Hong's hand passed over her eyes to switch their glasses. She was careful to place them exactly as they had been and kept her face expressionless.

  Hong returned her grip to the glass—the poisoned glass—but she didn't drink.

  "I'm just considering my options," Wren said. She sipped at her—Hong's—glass. Any moment now Hong would have a drink. The poison wouldn't take long. It would start with a sharp pain to the stomach and she'd probably rush to the bathroom. That's where it would end.

  "You know what?" Hong said.

  "What?" Wren itched to see her drink. Usually she didn't feel so much impatience about a kill. Usually she could sit for hours, like a spider waiting for flies. But this was different somehow. This was important and she wanted it to be finished now.

  "Don't try old tricks on an old dog." Hong moved her arm so that her elbow nudged the glass. It slipped over the side of the bar, fell through the air, and landed on the hard floor where it shattered into a thousand pieces, sending a spatter of amber liquid up the legs of Wren's stool.

  Hong met Wren's gaze. "How clumsy of me."

  She caught the towel tossed by the barman without looking away from Wren.

  Wren's heart thrummed in her throat. She'd known. How had she known? She must have seen Wren switch the glasses. She hadn't had much time, should probably have waited until a better moment. But she'd been so desperate to see it done! Those eyes, they were hard and cold like a sharp crystal of ice.

  Hong finally broke her gaze and knelt to the floor where she mopped up the spilled drink and collected broken pieces of glass.

  Wren glared at the back of her neck. She could pull her knife right now and finish it. That would leave a lot of witnesses though, so she'd have to get off the planet straight away. Then what would she do about the other job? She could use a shard of glass, but that had the same problem.

  Hong straightened, handing the wet cloth and broken glass to the barman who nodded thanks and threw the whole lot into the bin.

  Wren tried not to scowl. Those capsules cost a lot of money and fixing it to her tooth had been painful. Fine. There were a lot of other ways to kill a person. She'd follow Hong when she left and shoot her in the back, or she'd just call the Guild right now and have them send someone… but no, she wanted to do this herself. Needed to.

  "What's it going to be next?" Hong said. "You seem like a knife girl to me."

  Wren froze. She'd been reaching for her knife although she hadn't quite decided how she'd do it yet.

  "Yeah," Hong said. "Can always tell a knife girl, it's something about how you move."

  "You don't know me."

  "Really?" Hong said, lifting an eyebrow. "I knew you came here to kill me, even though I was perfectly pleasant to you."

  Wren's mind felt like it was being twisted and turned in every direction. How could Hong confuse her so much? Usually she knew exactly what to do and how to do it. She didn't second guess herself, so what the hell was happening? "You betrayed your oath to the Guild. You deserve to die."

  "You didn't kill me before."

  "I had other things to do."

  "And you've finished those other things now?"

  Wren faltered.

  "I didn't think so."

  "Don't do that!"

  "What?"

  "Pretend like you know me."

  The bartender returned with a new drink. Hong took a long, slow sip. "But I do know you."

  She said it with such certainty that Wren struggled to respond. Who did she think she was?

  "You've spent your life with the Guild," Hong said.

  "That doesn't mean anything! Most of us have spent our lives with the Guild."

  Hong held up her hand. "You don't like the job you've been given."

  "I never said—"

  "You didn't have to. Let's do away with the drama and pretense
s, shall we? We've both been trained by the Guild, we both know the signals and cues. I'll know if you try to use that knife on me, and while you're good, I can promise you, I'm better."

  Wren narrowed her eyes. "Would you like to step outside and prove that?" It seemed only right. She'd give Hong the chance to fight for herself. Hong would lose of course, but Wren would give her the chance.

  Hong shrugged. "If that's what you want, but you won't win."

  Wren slipped off the stool. "Let's go then."

  "Let me finish my drink first."

  Wren shrugged and sat down again. It didn't matter to her. The more Hong drank, the slower and more predictable she'd be. Not that Wren was worried about the fight, but only an idiot turned down an advantage.

  "Cheers," Hong said, tilting her glass.

  CHAPTER 26

  Kari wrenched open the door and jogged down the hallway of the safehouse. She'd waited another fifteen minutes at the door to her room but Wren hadn't reappeared. Where had she gone? It was possible that she was hiding just outside, waiting for Kari. But why would she bother? She could have shot through the door, or picked her way past the lock, without half as much trouble.

  So why had she left?

  Not that Kari could understand why Wren did anything—like stabbing her friends in the back. Who could understand a cold-blooded killer who thought like that?

  But one thing had become clear to Kari as she'd waited in the small room, listening to Wren pick the lock. She wasn't going to be killed lying down. And for whatever reason, Wren had gone away and given Kari precious time to prepare.

  She had no idea how long Wren would be gone, so she had to be quick and she couldn't risk wandering the city streets in case Wren was waiting somewhere in the shadows. Perhaps Wren was hoping to play some kind of game? Well, she'd get no entertainment out of Kari.

  At the end of the hall a rickety set of stairs with a broken handrail led to the ground floor. Kari bolted down, two steps at a time, which made the whole staircase rock and tilt to the side.