by C. G. Hatton
They walked him to a lift and before the doors opened, a heavy hand slapped against his neck right where his implant was. He felt a numb quiet encapsulate his mind. Hil didn’t see any other people around and couldn’t hear Genoa as much as he yelled at her to respond. She couldn’t possibly be such a bitch as to ignore him now. He was shielded somehow.
So he was alone.
He tried to reach a hand up to his neck but they were holding tight.
“That’s not freaking legal,” he protested, realising as he said it what a stupid thing it was to say.
They didn’t respond. The lift doors opened. It occurred to him that he might have been acquired by station security again but these guys weren’t wearing uniforms. Whoever Mendhel had been dealing with, they’d sent in a tab to the guild and had asked for him personally. Well, they had him. This wasn’t about codes. This was about that last tab and whatever the hell had gone wrong, it was still happening and he’d just walked himself straight back into it.
Alone in the lift, they pulled his arms behind his back and clasped restraints on each wrist, pulling tight.
“C’mon guys, is that necessary?”
There was still no response. He slouched his shoulders and waited until they were done then set about testing the cuffs. From what he could feel, they were the same type LC had shown him how to bust out of one time they were messing about in the Maze. LC could break free in seconds – Hil had never beaten him and given the state of his wrist he wasn’t sure he could manage it at all but it was worth a try.
The lift dropped down and Hil started to get a bad feeling as it dropped and dropped and about the only place they could be going was the docks. Leaving the station was definitely not in any plan. The doors opened and Hil braced himself. The guild would be watching the docks, they wouldn’t just let these guys walk him into a ship and leave.
The lift deposited them in a private area manned by similar looking corporate security. He bided his time as he was marched through gates and check posts and by the time they reached a walkway adjacent to the public terminal, he still hadn’t seen any guild. There was no one watching his back. He couldn’t believe there was no one watching his back. It was time to look after himself. He slowed the adrenaline, subtly manoeuvred his left arm and dislocated his thumb with a snap, twisting his hand out of the restraint, shouldering one guy aside and slamming his left fist back-handed, into the other. They were good but he was fast. He bolted for the main concourse and weaved through a thinning crowd, desperately looking for a friendly face. If any guild teams were there, he couldn’t see them. So much for covering all bases. Quinn and all his micro-managing was just as crap as he knew it would be.
Hil dropped and rolled under a barrier, staggering up from one knee with less finesse than he would’ve liked. Genoa was berthed in twenty seven. From the signs, he was up in the fifties and doubling back to the hub would be the fastest way round but not necessarily the smartest. He stayed close to the walls and looked for an access hatch to duck into. The two he bumped up against were locked and would take too long to open. He ran on and looked for an opening to ditch out of this area.
There were more people around as he moved down towards the docks so he blended in and walked alternately with running and avoided any security.
He was beginning to think he could make it when there was a yell and a wall of guards appeared up ahead. He wheeled around. The two corporate guys were behind him, pushing past people. Hil broke right and barged his way through a door, shouldering it open and bursting through into a narrow corridor. If he could find a hole to hide in, he could lose them. Otherwise he was wide open here.
The door crashed open behind him and something hit him solidly in the back between his shoulder blades. With a yelp, his knees buckled and Hil hit the floor, out cold.
Chapter 13
“I hesitate to ask but how wise was it to send Hilyer back out on his own?”
NG watched as the Man refilled the goblet and pushed it across the desk towards him.
“With hindsight,” he said, reluctantly taking the cup and taking another sip, “we could have acted differently. He had a serious concussion and other injuries. We train our people well and we push them hard. You know that. Hilyer is one of our best and he’s stubborn – he pushes himself more than anyone could ask. I made the decision that we couldn’t afford to give him time to recover. And don’t forget, at the time we didn’t know what the item in question was, or who had initiated its acquisition.” He didn’t want to sound too defensive. The Man always leapt on any weakness. “No one anticipated its importance. It was only later that Science realised the meaning of the rumours that Media were bringing in.” And there was the problem. He’d missed it. The entire guild had missed it until it threw itself upon them like a curse and inflicted more damage than they’d experienced in over three generations.
“You should have known,” the Man said sombrely and NG felt the nudge inside his mind. It was tender but deeply disturbing and as physical as if the Man had reached out and pushed him. He resisted the urge to push back and retreated. He should have known. It was undeniable.
“I know,” he said, the words unnecessary but out there in the open anyway.
The Man held a hand over his goblet, fingers twirling to disturb the steam, sending it swirling up in spirals. “Every action has repercussions. Every inaction has the potential to precipitate our downfall. We need to extend our influence so that this will not happen so easily in future.”
“To be fair,” NG said, downing more wine in one go than he intended, “it would have been nigh on impossible to predict the alignment of factors that coincided to lead to this outcome. In fact, as random occurrences go, this could turn out to be one of our best.”
•
He came to as they hauled him back towards the dock. The freaking sons of bitches had shot him with an FTH round and with neurons firing randomly and uncontrollably, there was nothing he could do to resist.
The painful tingling didn’t wear off until they were on board a drop ship headed for the planet. It was a corporate transport, plush interiors and soft padded seats but the drop was still as vicious as any military or cargo vessel. The two apes had shoved him onboard and retied his hands, fastening the restraints to the arms of the chair he was pushed into. It wasn’t like he could go anywhere but they weren’t taking any risks now. He smirked at them and they sat back glowering at him with their guns held firmly in their laps.
Hil relaxed his breathing and tried to shake feeling back into his limbs. They’d resented the fact they’d been stupid enough to let him get loose and had made him pay for his efforts on their way to the ship and he couldn’t count the number of bruises he had now. Nowhere along the way had he seen any guild faces at all. So much for all their protection. Badger had said trust no one but to distrust the whole guild was impossible, however paranoid he wanted to be. The guild looked after their own and he’d done nothing to change that, not really, as far as he knew. Doubt crept in as he sat there feeling miserable and angry. He’d known this tab would be a trap. But Quinn had refused to listen and if anything, they’d agreed that it was the only way for them to find out who the hell could be asking for him by name and what they might have to do with Mendhel. But Hil still had no idea what was going on and now it looked like even the guild had abandoned him.
They hit the atmosphere with a jolt and glided down to the surface. It was higher gravity than he was used to and he made no effort to move once they’d come to a stop. It was raining heavily, grey and oppressive and the rain hit the craft with the force of hailstones. They taxied and eventually stopped. He watched as they hooked up with a tunnel leading directly indoors, nothing too good for these corporate types.
His new friends weren’t gentle as they freed his arms and pulled him up. Hil felt like he’d put on pounds. He hated high gravity – it made him feel sluggish. The two guys still didn’t say a word.
Hil couldn’t resist. He looked
from one to the other. “I know cloning’s come a long way but do you guys share just the one brain cell?”
He got a slap to the back of his head and the muzzle of a gun nudged firmly into his ribs. He sucked in a breath. The Fast Takedown round had been bad enough from a distance so he shut up. The ‘H’ was supposed to stand for “Humanitarian” but it was doubtful if whoever had named it had ever been on the receiving end. He’d always thought the “Fuck That Hurts” definition was more apt.
Ways to escape were limited. His arms were pulled back behind his back and the gun stayed in place as he was pushed out of the ship into the adjoining tunnel. Thinking back to all the crap predicaments he could remember, this rated as bad, one of the worst. Not counting whatever had happened with LC, probably. So not the worst then and he took comfort from the thought that whatever had happened then, he’d got out of it. Which meant he could get out of this. Somehow.
He watched closely as they marched him down more corridors but there were no signs, logos or corporate branding anywhere. There was nothing to suggest where he was or which corporation it was. The place was sterile – white walls and grey floors, numbered doors. It was kind of chilly in an air conditioned way and not so oppressive suggesting they had gravity control.
He was taken into what looked like a meeting room that was empty except for a round table and eight chairs. They took off the cuffs, took his coat and frisked him for weapons. Sloppy procedures, they should have done that as soon as they’d taken him. Civilian then, not military or law enforcement and not used to dealing with situations like this. He tried putting it into context with what he knew. These guys were probably some suit’s personal bodyguards, more used to standing around looking menacing and as much for show as for any real security work. These guys were a fashion accessory. Ex-military or law enforcement would have taken no chances but those guys who were on the real front line of personal protection worked for another guild not entirely unlike his own and clowns like these would never have made the grade. Still, he thought as he considered his bruises, they were pretty effective as hired muscle. It made him wonder again just who he was dealing with. People with money. Lots of money, but not much experience of handling people like him. The kind of people who thought money solved everything and paid others to do their dirty work, like hiring the guild.
He watched them as they worked. The two clowns were getting a buzz out of all this. They were way out of their depth and didn’t even realise it. They missed the tiny knife hidden in his boot again, making him wonder if these were the same guys that had nabbed him after the crash, and they left the band on his left wrist. Amateurs. Once done, they manoeuvred him roughly into one of the chairs and left.
As soon as he was alone, Hil jumped up and tried the door, locked, and scrounged around looking for anything that could be a way out. The walls were smooth, the ceiling was one solid expanse and there was no keyhole or locking mechanism in the door. It was the most pleasant, secure jail he’d ever been held in. He pulled off the dampening patch attached to his neck and yelled out to Genoa but she was either too far away, still on the station probably, or the room was shielded.
There was no point expending energy when it was clear he was stuck here so he sat down and rested his head down on folded arms on the table and snoozed.
They woke him up setting down a tray of sandwiches and drinks. He looked suspiciously at the woman who sat down opposite him. She was tall and thin and looked like she shopped on Earth, expensive tailoring that the colonies had never mastered. He stared at the tray. If they wanted to drug him, they could have just stuck a needle in his arm.
The woman pushed the tray towards him. “Go ahead,” she said, accent not quite something he could place. “It’s real coffee.”
He took a cup and slowly tasted it. Real coffee was unheard of this far from Earth. Mendhel had a liking for coffee. There was always a fresh pot on the go at the safe house. Hil put the cup down.
“Your pet gorillas shoot me and drag me off the station and now you give me coffee?” he said. “Why the charade of the tab? What do you want with me?”
He pushed the tray back across the table. She leaned across and not so gently touched his arm right on the spot where the brace wasn’t exactly doing its job. It was hard not to wince.
“Do you need a medic?”
“I need you to let me go, give me a lift back to the station and freaking leave me alone.”
She picked up her own cup of coffee, looked up towards the door and nodded to a guy in a suit standing there. He walked over and smirked at Hil, piercing grey eyes cold and smug, and for a second there was something about him that was irritatingly familiar.
The man threw a data board onto the table and sat down next to Hil. The board was playing some kind of recording, poor quality and no sound but the image was clear enough. Hil stood up and grabbed it, stomach going cold at what he could see. He looked up at the woman who was smiling at him over her coffee cup, wisps of steam swirling up in front of her face. She took a sip and watched him as he watched the scene as it replayed over and over. He glanced back at the door. The clones watching from the doorway both took a step into the room. He put the board back on the table, slow deliberate movements.
“Is she okay?” he demanded, voice quiet and controlled.
“Sit down, Zach.”
“Is she okay?
“She’s fine. Now sit down or the twins over there are going to get jumpy.”
He sat down.
She caressed a finger across the screen of the data board and this time it replayed with sound. He stared at the image of Anya as she read out a statement, stumbling over the words and looking scared and alone. The recording was scratchy and broken in places but he got the gist of it. “This is a message for LC Anderton and Zach Hilyer. Please help me. Do what these people ask and they will let me go. I am unharmed. Please help me. This is a message for…”
It repeated, Anya looking scared each time.
Hil tried to remember the last time they were all together and safe but it was too far gone to come to mind. Mendhel hadn’t betrayed the guild willingly. He’d really had no choice. And how the hell had these people found out about Anya and Mendhel anyway? It must have been someone in the guild itself. It was chilling to think someone could have sold them out. Suddenly Badger’s message had a whole lot more gravity than he’d imagined.
“You don’t know who you’re messing with,” he said quietly.
“You took a job. Finish it.”
Hil tapped the side of his head in frustration. “That’s the problem. I don’t remember the job. I don’t remember any details of the tab at all. I’ve had freaking concussion from you people shooting down my ship and screwing with my head. I don’t remember a thing.” He was lying, it was starting to come back to him but just in pieces.
“We didn’t shoot you down, Zachary,” she said. “You must have had a mishap on the way back to us. You were coming back to us, Zach, and you didn’t have the package.”
“Why kill Mendhel?” he said. “What the hell is this about?”
The woman smiled and looked across at her colleague as if fielding a question in a civilised meeting. His smirk deepened but no warmth reached those grey eyes. There was something about him that was chilling. Hil looked from one to the other, anger building.
“You really don’t need to know what this is about,” the man said finally. “And Mendhel? No loose ends. He was an easy kill, nothing at all like his reputation would have suggested. You people are over-rated. I was disappointed how easy he was. I put a gun to his head and he did nothing to stop me. The notorious Mendhel Halligan of the infamous Thieves’ Guild and he rolled over and died like a stray dog.” He leaned forward. “But not before he gave us everything we needed to know about you and Mr Anderton, Zach. Everything.”
It was malicious taunting and there was no way it was true. Mendhel would never have given them up. Hil switched his focus to the woman and refused to rise to
the guy. He was aware that the two thugs had moved in behind him, and felt them almost willing him to make a move, to provoke another beating. He sat calmly, pinning the anger deep inside and saving it. They’d pay.
The woman said, “And we want the job finished.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Do you know the current bounty on your head, Zach? Twenty six million each for you and Mr Anderton. And that’s just the open market. You don’t even want to know what the Assassins’ Guild has been offered for you. Work with us and we can pull strings to call all that off. Get the package and you get Anya back.”
Hil stared at her. There was no way NG would’ve let him out if he’d known there was a contract out there. He thought of McKenzie standing there looking him up and down in Polly’s bar. There was no way there could’ve been a price on him then. Sean would’ve known.
“I need information and all my stuff back,” he said.
Anything to get away from here. If LC knew Anya was being held against her will, he’d be going after her. And LC had the package, somehow he had a feeling deep down that LC had the package.
They gave him coordinates for the drop and told him where to take the package once he had it. Then Anya would be taken to Earth and released. As much as he hated to, he couldn’t help but think what the hell could be worth that much and why the freaking hell so many people wanted it. It had come from a lab, he could remember that much. And the security had been an absolute bitch to break. It had taken both of them doubling up, LC ahead and him on back up. He was starting to remember right up to the point where LC yelled for help. He could see the narrow accessways, could feel the growing unease and Skye getting frantic, and LC screaming in pain. And after that just flashes. He knew they’d gotten away with the package but it was not something he could grasp. He couldn’t see it in his mind, couldn’t remember the feel of it. He just knew they’d managed to get away with it. At least now he knew why they’d gone after it in the first place.