“What are you doing here?”
“Don’t worry yourself none. I was passing by and thought I would drop in for a drink.”
“Oh, really? My place is too upscale for the likes of you.”
The barb smarted. “Yeah, you’re right. This place is cold and, what’s the word — audacious. It lacks a woman’s touch.”
Patti’s mouth flinched. “You were to stay as far away from us as possible, remember? We don’t need your trouble here. Take a hint; keep walking the next time you feel like a drink.”
“Sure, see you around.” She went for the door.
Patti got up. “If this has anything to do with Max, you better think twice and leave him alone.”
Zoe opened the door and without turning, countered, “By the way, great job raising him. He’s a real gangster.” She walked out, slamming the door to claim the last word.
Tank was waiting for her with his massive left arm layered atop of his slimmer right biomech one. There was a feeling of relief; neither woman tried to kill the other.
Her brigend mark flared again and she scratched it, not caring if anyone saw her. “I see she’s still a bitch. Damn it, how can you work for her?”
“It has its perks. Besides, she’s been good to me and Max.”
“You should work for me and do something honorable with your life again.”
“I like it here just fine, Captain. The war’s long over.”
“No, Sergeant, it never ended.”
He didn’t argue with her. He understood how bad it was in the real world for their kind. “What can ya do? We gotta survive somehow.”
“I didn’t have a sponsor like you did to keep me out of trouble,” she said, referring to his lack of a mark.
“Oh, you know it ain’t that way. Maybe if you had asked her for help, who knows what might’ve happened.”
He was right, but she would never admit it. They walked in silence down the majestic staircase and through the crowd. He was dismayed by how she had become someone he didn’t recognize; full of bitterness and defeat. Where was the girl with the devil-may-care abandonment?
As any good-hearted person would do when meeting a comrade who had lost her way, he blamed himself. It wasn’t true in the slightest, but his oversized heart wouldn’t believe otherwise.
By the time they reached the hallway running to the rear exit, he had stopped showing her the way out. She went peacefully, not wanting to cause him any further trouble with the boss lady.
After she departed, a persistent thought plagued him. What if he had done things differently? Would she have turned out like this?
He owed her his life.
Zoe paced in the alley, disappointedly absent of a plan. The Luma Lounge was the only place she knew where to find the kid. The club was a known hotspot for hunters and she couldn’t risk hanging around longer. It had been foolish to search for him here.
She moved to leave, but sensed someone spying on her. Reaching for her gun, she quickly recognized who it was by the sound of his breathing. “I could’ve shot you.”
Max rolled the bike into the light of the security lamps. “Are you following me?”
“It looks that way, don’t it? Yeah, I guess I am... Max.”
“You know my name?”
“I know a lot about you.”
“That’s creepy. Why are you here?”
“I want to know why you let me go this morning. You had me dead to rights.”
“I don’t know.”
“You sure? There had to be a reason.”
The conversation was meaningless. He didn’t have an explanation for the inexplicable feeling that stayed his hand. He straddled the bike. “Look. I’m not in the mood. This has been one big crappy day for me. So, if that’s all you wanted, I’d like to get on my merry way.”
She blocked the front tire. “There’s not many who can keep up with me the way you did. You have skills. Kind of skills that are better suited helping people rather than locking them up.”
He laughed. Here’s another one looking to cash in on my freak abilities. “Hey, I hunt brigends. I don’t hunt down anyone who doesn’t deserve it,” he said, ignoring the fact he wasn’t a legitimate hunter.
Brigends... it was a slur with a strange history. Most likely the label started when some long ago bureaucrat misspelled another word. To that key-rider, the dissidents were no different from common criminals, so who cared about the spelling? Brigand or brigend... what difference did it make?
It made a world of difference to her. “Keep saying that, maybe you’ll convince yourself someday. Max, you’re working for the problem, not against it.”
“You sound like...”
“Like who?”
“Never mind.”
“You don’t know about the bad stuff the hunters have done. You don’t know about the families they’ve torn apart.”
The mention of families bothered him. He cranked the bike. “I don’t care. The pay’s good. Save your breath trying to recruit me, unless you got money.”
She had to be clever or lose him for good. “I have a job if you’re interested. I can pay you.”
That worked. She got his attention.
“How much?” he asked, pretending indifference.
“Enough to make it worth your while,” she answered, knowing she had him hooked with her lie.
“I don’t know about that — I don’t come cheap.”
She pulled out a silver coin and held it up at eye level. “Here take this and think it over,” she offered. “If you —“
He sneered. “Uh, you’re going to need a lot more to convince me —“
“Just shut up and listen. If you decide to take the job, bring this to the Romanian bar over on 84th tomorrow before noon. I’ll be waiting.”
Taking the coin, he held it flat on his level palm. He had heard about these old world coins, but had never seen one. Pocketing the currency, he pretended ambivalence to the offer.
“What makes you think I’ll show up?”
“Because you wouldn’t have taken it if you weren’t going to.”
He couldn’t argue with her logic.
“Haven’t you ever wanted to do something rewarding with your life?”
He revved the engine and she backed away. As he rode off, a knot formed in her stomach. She feared she just blew her only chance.
Traveling through Brooklyn was never simple on foot, let along going twenty kilometers an hour on a speeding bike. But, Max had an innate ability to negotiate the clutter of shanties, garbage, and hapless pedestrians which few others could boast. His unique talents, as Zoe and others called them, gave him an edge. He was fast, agile on his feet, and much stronger than he appeared. Until that morning, those were qualities he was always fearful of putting to the test.
In his head, he saw his aptitudes as abnormal. There was no one else like him... except now her. She had given him a run to remember. She had been the only one who ever could.
Usually riding with no particular place to go helped him balance his anxieties, but the events of the lousy day were more than a joyride could fix. He tried calling Dinx, but the transmission went unanswered. He didn’t blame him. If given a choice, he wouldn’t have anything to do with himself either.
When he finally cared to notice, he saw where he was heading. He could have stopped and gone elsewhere, but he made a choice to keep going.
Maybe she would be happy to see him. It wasn’t like she could rat him out again to Cho.
He got to Flatbush just after midnight. Midline Heights had the worst tenements in all the Lo-5. Called Munk Sleights by its residents, there were more cockroaches per square block than the total human population of the city. Running water was available only to the slumlords and electrical allotments to the tenants went for top dollar. Angie was lucky; not many Lo-enders had it that good.
He didn’t see her working at the Lounge, which meant she was probably in her flat on the twenty-first floor of high-rise Num
ber Five.
Angelita pulled the door and it almost fell off its hinges. Struggling with the metal slab, she grunted her disappointment at finding him standing on her doorstep. “Terrific.”
“Were you expecting someone else?”
“As a matter of fact, yes I was. I got company coming over.”
The girl was dolled up in a molten pink negligee, with black nets on her long legs, and spiked pink heels on her petite feet. The dermo-glyphs on her oiled body enhanced the seductive number, leaving nothing to the imagination. She was ready to entertain.
“Can I come in? I promise to get out before your guest shows up.”
“Muck no.”
“Oh, come on.”
“No, Max. What if your mother finds out you were here?”
He wanted to laugh at her displaced paranoia. If Patti ever found out Angie was moonlighting with clients from the club, she would sack the girl straight out of a job quick — never mind her affair with him. Luckily, for the young Latina, he knew how to keep a secret.
“Really? You pick now to start worrying about Patti?”
“It’s not like before and you know it.”
Her stance shifted to one leg, revealing a red crescent glyph along her inner thigh.
“When did you get the new dermo? You didn’t have it the last time we —”
“You shouldn’t be here, not with Cho after you.” She shifted back to hide the art.
“Well, don’t worry yourself none. Things got fixed. I had to make a deal.”
“Ha! What kinda deal?”
“Let’s just say I’m not stellar yet, but I’m getting there.”
“Does that mean you’re still pissed at me?” She puffed her bottom lip.
“No. You had to do what you did. I get it.” He believed what he was telling her.
Angelita hadn’t expected him to be okay with her so soon. If he had thrown her under the wheel to Cho, the way she did to him, she would have come after his manhood. Why he wasn’t upset, she didn’t care.
He could smell the opium-laced shisha wafting out of her flat. The flickering light of the hall illuminated the pinpoints of her pupils. He hated when she used.
“I guess that’s that, huh?”
“Yeah.”
She tried to shut the door. He would’ve been content with letting her, but he was never good at giving up easily. He held the heavy slab off-kilter. She knew she couldn’t overpower him, so she let him have his say.
“If I asked you to run away with me, would you?”
“Where’d we go?”
“Canada. We’d go to Canada.”
“How? You need money, lots of it to get a visa.”
“There might be a way. I got a job lined up. If it pays good, then I’ll have the money.”
She looked at him, trying to figure out if he was serious. He waited for her answer.
“Well, would you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“You know why. You don’t want me.”
“That’s not true.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Max. I’m a big girl.”
He pushed the slab open wider.
“I’m being serious.”
“You’re just dreaming again.”
“Angie, haven’t you ever wanted a better life?” He pulled her to him and ran a hand under the loose silk. “Imagine you and me... free from all of this.”
She flinched, but didn’t resist. “Stop it.”
He traced the path of her oldest glyph diagonally across her waist, along the spiraling wave of raised flesh. He leaned in for a kiss, but she pulled against his grip.
“Stop... please.”
He ignored her resistance and brought her closer. She couldn’t help herself; she yielded and they kissed. His fingers danced up her belly, gently tickling the sweet spot under her right breast. He brushed the nipple, eliciting a rise. His electricity was too much for her to handle and she faltered to his will, as she was prone to do. She lusted for him.
But, her willpower prevailed. She would not allow him to persuade her in that way again. Twisting her body, she signaled for him to stop. He let go.
“No... I’m happy with my life... I like where I am.”
Her acceptance of this fate wasn’t surprising.
“I guess I already knew what you would say. I just had to ask to be sure.”
She wanted to cry. “Not fair. We were never going to be a thing.”
“You didn’t give us a try.”
“You was fun — nothing else.”
“I’m not happy with my life. I want something better.”
“I know. You always do. What chance did I have?”
He looked at her standing in the doorway of the roach infested flat. They were both war orphans. The one difference between them, he grew up in a home. She wasn’t as fortunate. That was why she didn’t carry a last name. War orphans weren’t thought of as people and didn’t deserve legacies.
Despite what she wanted to believe, he never thought of her as just a good-time. There was more to what he felt for her.
Or, was it?
Max reached and held her soft hand in his. She didn’t fight, not even when a cold sensation touched her palm. Holding the coin up to the light, her heart skipped. It was a parting gift; she didn’t want to think of it as anything else.
He left Angelita with the life she wanted.
As he walked away, a Hi-riser boy, decked out in silk and gold, entered the hallway. As the two passed each other, the rich kid sniggered behind his hand at the poor Lo-ender. Max turned to see the snob go straight to Angelita. She greeted her caller with a kiss. No words exchanged. The boy fondled her right breast with his desires foremost on his mind.
She locked eyes with Max as the Hi-riser touched her. In her hand, she fisted the coin as if to say, you’re right, this is what I am.
Max left, knowing he would never return.
Chapter 9
Playing with the devil
Cho reclined his lower back on the support of his seat cushion and chewed on the last of the cigar. The night wasn’t developing as he had hoped. Patti, the ever nagging thorn in his side, had meddled again. If the boy couldn’t come up with the money, she would undoubtedly be there to protect him with more loopholes and technicalities. In spite of everything, she was the Charter’s architect and knew better than anyone on how to manipulate its subtext to suit her needs.
His rage fumed.
The iron gates of his foundry, Gotham Works, squealed as they opened to let his ground limousine pass through. The car stopped outside the operations building. Paco Vega tripped rushing from the cab to valet his boss’s door. Cho didn’t wait; he threw the hatch open, narrowly missing the brute’s crotch.
The gangster bounded the concrete steps and pushed apart the gold inlay doors. The brothers lagged behind, afraid to anger him more.
Faso, his top lieutenant, met him in the foyer. Unlike the dimwitted Vegas, this formidable hunter had a keen wit. Contrary to his usual shrewd demeanor, he seemed nervous. “How did it go, Boss?”
“Not well. The boy was given a reprieve,” he snarled. “Tell these morons to pack their things. Their contracts are revoked.”
Cho kept walking.
Faso planted his large mitts on the brothers. “You heard him. Get your shit and leave.”
Paz didn’t protest. Pulling Paco along with him, they tucked tails and scampered from the building.
Faso ran to catch up. “Hey, Boss, there’s someone waiting for you in your office.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t give his name.”
“Then why in hell did you let him in?”
“I — don’t think I could’ve stopped him.”
He had never seen Faso act scared before, which meant only one possibility. Smoothing over his exhausted appearance with a gloss of collected authority, he rehearsed calmness before strutting into his office.
It was a
s he dreaded.
“You are late,” Kroll said, perusing the various works of art situated around the extravagant yet tasteful room.
“Leave us,” Cho ordered. Once alone with the assassin, he lost his bluster. “What are you doing here?”
“I am in need of your best hunters for a special assignment.”
”You could’ve contacted me through the customary methods. By coming here, you risk exposing me.”
“Calm yourself. I had to forgo our arrangement, because time is of the essence... pardon the colloquialism”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t have you here. You must go.”
The transhuman stared through the man. The crystal dagger flared for emphasis.
The tiny articulation did the trick. Boss Cho, the lord of his fiefdom, felt dread overtake his pride. “I apologize. I forgot myself. Of course, I will give you my best men. How — how many do you want this time?”
“A contingency of three to four will do.”
“Right away. I’ll send Faso. And, the target?”
Kroll went to the ornate oak desk and placed his hand on the glass top. The surface came alive with multidimensional images. Emil Pavel’s mug-shot formed. “This man.”
Cho’s greed got the better of him and it showed in his mannerisms.
There was no need to probe the gangster’s mind to read his intended duplicity. “Remember your place. Double-cross me and you will regret it.”
“No, I would never do such a thing.”
He knew the human was lying, but understood how well fear could keep him loyal. “Yes, indeed.”
Cho opened a box on the edge of the desk and removed a fat cigar from it. As he used the cutter to snip the ends, he struggled to appear at ease. Striking the match and blazing the tobacco deceived his charade.
“Have the hunters assembled within the hour.” Kroll glided to the door.
“Should I be worried?”
The assassin didn’t stop. “No. The future is upon us. Soon you will be rewarded for your dedication.”
The Zolarian walked out.
The often mentioned new order was coming. Revolution meant anarchy and destruction. Neither was of importance to Cho. He only wanted to end up on the winning side once the dust settled.
Brigends (The Final War Series Book 1) Page 8