by C. G. Hatton
It was chilling to watch. The Earth warships dominated the space around the orbital, demanding total cooperation, all traffic frozen, media black out, hundreds of smaller Earth fighters and gunships buzzing in a swarm around the colony.
Hil was down there somewhere. They had a transmitter on him. NG listened in to the secure communications as they tracked him deeper and deeper into Zang’s facility. No reported sightings of LC yet. But Zang Tsu Po himself was in there somewhere. That was another catch they wanted.
The attack was brutal.
NG listened, detached. There would be a way to turn this around to their advantage, somehow, but he couldn’t do a thing here. He watched as they tracked rogue vessels, shooting down anyone that didn’t respond fast enough, bringing in reinforcements to chase stealthed wraiths.
The warships rained down a furious and unrelenting fire.
It was a show of absolute Earth military supremacy the like of which hadn’t been seen in generations.
Until they lost Hilyer.
Jameson didn’t react, didn’t move as the reports came in. Hil had vanished. Simply gone, the transponder no longer transmitting.
Jameson turned slowly to look at NG, no emotion on his face, anger seething inside. “No,” he sent privately, “no, no, no, you’re not going to get away with this, NG. You son of a bitch. What is this? You think you can fool us? Where’s my damned package?”
NG stood his ground, staring at the bank of monitors and screens.
“Get him out of here,” Jameson growled.
The soldiers standing guard at NG’s side jumped into action, quickly taking hold of an arm each and manoeuvring him away from their colonel. He went without a fight but couldn’t resist the smile that slipped out.
Chapter 16
“Earth versus Winter,” she said. “Exactly what we don’t need.”
“These creatures are unpredictable.”
“You feel responsible for them.”
“I am responsible for them. They are fickle and temperamental, wild and uncouth.”
“Yet you want to save them.”
He poured more wine. After everything that had happened, he was wondering why.
She pushed forward her goblet for a top up even though she had drunk barely half. “Because you see their potential,” she said. “And it irks you that they do not see it in themselves.”
“Nikolai is proof of their potential and see how they treated him.”
“And,” she pushed as she watched the wine tumble from the jug, “because we must stop it happening again, whatever race it is that is unfortunate enough to become the latest prey.”
•
They took him down into the depths of the warship and locked him in a cell. He stretched out on a cold bench and listened in to the rest of the conflict at a distance. They didn’t find Hil, LC or Zang and took out their frustration on the colonists and any ships that refused to respond to their lockdown.
Jameson came in after the assault had entered its final cleanup stage. He stood with his arms folded, fuming, mind racing with the only way he could figure out to deal with NG and the damned Thieves’ Guild.
“You think you’re smart?” he sent through a tight wire. This conversation wasn’t anything he wanted on record.
NG sat up, keeping eye contact.
“Where’s my package?” Jameson was thinking that he could keep NG locked up down here as a hostage to force the guild to cooperate.
NG kept his breathing slow and steady, reading every thought that crossed the military man’s mind as clearly as if the guy was shouting it.
Jameson growled. “Don’t give me the fucking silent treatment, NG. You want to see what level six feels like? See how tough you are then?” It was a real pisser. He’d been so sure he had the Thieves’ Guild securely in his pocket for saving NG’s ass from Imperial Security. If he had to threaten NG to get the package, he’d lose any leverage that had given him.
NG stood up slowly. “Matt, I don’t even know what your package is,” he said with a laugh.
The colonel snapped, “You expect me to believe that?” He narrowed his eyes. “How much are you worth, NG? How much does your precious Thieves’ Guild value you? Enough to hand over that package to get you back?”
There was no way he was going to be held hostage. He took a step forward. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with,” he said quietly. “You think you just gave Winter a bloody nose?” Another step closer. “You just screwed up, Matt. You have no idea.”
The colonel snapped and went for NG’s throat, same move he’d pulled in the Alsatia’s hospitality suite.
This time, NG didn’t hold back. He’d manipulated Jameson before, subtly, nothing too overt, gentle suggestions, the way he worked with most people. It wasn’t that he put thoughts into someone’s head, it was more that he worked with what was there already. Manipulating emotions. It’s easier to make a decision when you suddenly feel good about it, when that choice feels intuitively so much better than any alternative possibility. NG didn’t give Jameson any room to feel anything other than scared shitless about the thought of risking the wrath of the Thieves’ Guild by holding him for ransom. Suddenly the idea of maintaining a civil and respectful relationship with the guild wasn’t just appealing, it was the only sane option.
Jameson froze, confusion flashing across his eyes. He couldn’t remember why he’d been so angry. He seemed to realise with a start that he had his hand around NG’s throat and let go, letting his hand rest on NG’s shoulder instead.
“You owe me, right?” he said. “Zang’s not going to get away with this?”
“No,” NG said softly. “No, he isn’t.”
Jameson exhaled the breath he was holding. He leaned close and whispered, “Get off my warship, NG. Before I think of a reason to throw you back to the ISA.”
Evelyn and Martinez, flanked by two of the Man’s elite guards, were waiting this time when he got back to the Alsatia.
Despite the whirlwind of drama he was stepping into, it felt good to be back.
Evie stepped forward first to meet him. “Hilyer’s here,” she said, dropping in alongside him and matching his stride. “He’s in Medical. Skye brought him in a few hours ago.”
“Skye?” She was supposed to be grounded.
“Quinn sent her out after Hil. We got word from Pen, NG. They took out the guy that killed Mendhel then Hil took off for Earth.” She was trying not to stare at him. “Are you okay?” Martinez had told them about the gunshot wound on Redgate and the incident on Earth.
Evelyn was worried about him but it was hard to look at her without thinking she could have betrayed him.
“I’m fine.”
“The Man wants to see you. Do you need a full debrief or the short version?”
“I need to see Hil.”
“From what I heard, he’s not in a fit state to see anyone. There’s a full report on your desk.”
“Any sign of LC?”
They stopped at the elevator.
“Rumours, nothing more.” She paused, biting her lip and frowning.
“What?” he said, reading it from her mind and trying to keep the dismay from his face.
“We have a real problem, NG,” she sent, switching to private again. The relief she’d felt at seeing him alive was overwhelmed by the dread of having to tell him what had happened, the intel Hil had brought back with him. “We know who betrayed us.”
“Who?” he said softly, needing her to say it.
“Hetherington, Wibowski…” She paused again, looking deep into his eyes and feeling lost. “And Genoa.”
That was the real kicker. An AI. Bad enough that two extraction agents had gone rogue but to be betrayed by an AI…
He glanced back at Martinez. She knew and she was furious – she knew Kase Wibowski and Martha Hetherington well.
Evie touched him on the arm. “That’s not the worst of it.”
“Just tell me, Evie.”
“N
G, it was Anya. Mendhel’s daughter is the one who betrayed us to Zang.”
‘Killed by his own kin. How ironic.’
He couldn’t breathe for a minute. They’d kept Anya away from the guild after her mother had been killed. For her own safety. He was the one who’d persuaded Mendhel that was for the best.
That dark spot of self doubt inside was churning, mocking and deriding. ‘All this tracks back to one bad judgement call?’
Evelyn squeezed his arm. “You look tired.”
He felt sick. He used the contact to check her out again, feeling bad that he had to and guilty that he’d doubted her when it still looked like she was clear. That just left Devon and the thought of that made him feel worse.
“You want me to field it while you get some rest?” Evelyn said.
He shook his head. “I need to deal with this now.”
“Who do you want first?”
“Hil,” he said again. He needed to know what had happened down on that planet.
NG stopped at the door to the Man’s chambers, hand against the warm wood panel, hesitating to knock. His head was pounding. Hilyer had been hard work, in pain from injuries sustained during Jameson’s bombardment, and belligerent, still thinking everyone was against him. But he’d given up the whole story, as much as he could. The kid still claimed not to know what the package was and not to know where LC was, and in a way NG had no choice but to believe him – the information simply wasn’t in Hilyer’s mind because he’d taken a crap load of very specific drugs to wipe his memory and make sure he couldn’t remember.
NG stood there, half tempted to walk away.
“Come in,” the Man called from the depths of the chamber beyond the heavy door.
He stood for a moment longer then pushed open the door and stepped into the fray. The Man was at his desk, the room dark except for the light from dancing candles, the scent of spices and oils from all corners of the galaxy mingling into a warm intoxicating concoction.
“You disobeyed my direct orders, NG,” the Man said softly. “You are lucky to be alive by all accounts.”
The Man had contacts that went far deeper than any of the people NG and his team dealt with. It wasn’t worth considering from whom those accounts may have come and in a way it was chilling to hear, as if the danger had been far more grave than he’d appreciated.
“These are dangerous times and our enemies grow in strength. Contrary to your own opinion on the matter, NG, you are not invincible. Do not exacerbate the risk to yourself by this irrepressible need to confront those who seek to undermine us.”
The Man looked down at his desk, returning his attention to his work. NG stood there, just inside the door, perfectly motionless, overheating in the stifling air. There was no way the Man was going to let him off that lightly.
“I understand we have Hilyer back,” the Man said without raising his head. “What about Luka?”
It wasn’t often that the Man ever referred to LC by his real name. It added a weight to the atmosphere.
The Man looked up. “Where is he now?”
It was second nature to nudge for a look into any mind asking a question, to gauge the intention there, to see what was expected before replying.
“Don’t try to read me, NG.”
His heart was pounding. He hadn’t meant to. “We don’t know,” he said finally.
The Man nodded towards the heavy set wooden chair in front of his desk. “Sit down.”
Devon stood in the doorway of his office, watching. The lights were soft, temperature set to low. NG gave up trying to focus on the document he was dealing with and looked up.
“You need to sleep,” Devon said softly.
He hadn’t stopped since he’d got back and the marathon debrief sessions with Hilyer then the Man were taking their toll. He rubbed his eyes. “We need to screen everyone.”
She looked dubious, wandering in and taking a seat. She rested her elbows on the desk and leaned forward, peering at him, thinking that the scar on his cheekbone was new.
“Everyone?”
NG nodded. He couldn’t do it by remote. He wanted every single person on board the Alsatia to traipse in so he could read their intentions and see their loyalty for himself.
“Not going to happen,” Devon said casually. “But we’ve isolated active guild operations from shipside business. You could start trawling your way through Acquisitions if you’re set on it. That seems to be where the problems lie. We’ve grounded the AIs, as you ordered. They’re objecting.”
That was an understatement. From what he’d picked up, they were close to rebelling. AI sensitivities were always difficult. They were a minority, tetchy at the best of times and always expecting special considerations. But grounding them was no different to locking down Acquisitions and refusing to let the field-ops and extraction agents leave the cruiser. They all complained. The guild demanded high levels of performance and its people operated on the edge of brilliance. None of them liked to be reined in.
The problem with the AIs was that he had absolutely no way to be sure.
“You control their contracts,” he said, “remind them of that.”
Devon was surprised at his tone. She sat up. “Media is working on the hypothesis that it was Ballack who hired the Assassins to kill you.”
Her eyes had a sparkle to them. She was trying to provoke him into talking because she was thinking that he was being irrational. Media could work on whatever she wanted; someone had put a ridiculous price on his head, he wasn’t going to run and hide. Media was also working hard to reclaim their kudos with clients and mitigate the damage from Ballack’s crass attempt to undermine their standing. But Devon was also thinking that it actually wasn’t an unreasonable theory to consider that Ballack and the Merchants had the most to gain from the downfall of the Thieves’ Guild.
“I’m not the guild,” he said. “Taking me out doesn’t destroy it.”
She bit off the comment she was tempted to make, wisely, and sat back instead, looking at him with a wry smile.
In the time he’d been working with her, she’d come closer than he’d allowed anyone else in his entire life.
“I want Hilyer,” she said suddenly.
“No.”
“He’s overstepped the mark, NG. We can’t let this go with a slap on the wrist.”
“I’m pulling him out of Acquisitions.”
Devon stared. “What?”
“The Man wants a special projects team.”
“To deal with the Order?”
NG didn’t move and didn’t reply.
Devon narrowed her eyes. “NG, what else haven’t you told me about?”
The Man wanted a special team to accelerate his preparations for fending off an alien invasion. NG kept his expression neutral. That was hardly anything he was ready to share.
“Stay away from Hil,” he said. “He’s been through enough. We all have.”
Devon stared at him, about to snap back and argue her case, catching herself and backing down. She decided he was tired. She wasn’t usually big on empathy but she was staring at the scar on his cheek and wondering what else he was carrying. His chest was still aching. The Man hadn’t offered any healing this time.
She stood and walked around behind him, gently starting to knead a hand across the muscles in his shoulders. She’d missed him, physically not emotionally. He had no delusion about that. She didn’t care that he was goosed and half intoxicated still. She hit a knot and a sore spot, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “What happened on Earth?”
“We were set up.”
“I mean to you, Nik.”
NG didn’t reply. It wasn’t often that Devon showed concern and it wasn’t somewhere he wanted to go.
He stretched forward, folding his arms on the desktop and resting his head down.
She considered pushing the issue but decided not to, dropping it and shifting her massage up to his neck. Her hands were warm, her touch soft against his skin. Her mind w
as not somewhere he wanted to go but he went in there anyway. She hadn’t betrayed him. While he’d been away, she’d lodged a motion to have him suspended, to take Acquisitions into Legal, and dissolve the autonomy of the handlers, but none of it had been malicious and she was genuinely glad that NG was back, safe if not completely sound.
He closed his eyes. Wherever the breach was, it wasn’t here and for now at least he was in good hands.
It took days to screen all the personnel from Acquisitions. NG sat through the last interview, a headache hammering behind his eyes.
The Chief was asking the questions, reluctantly and in poor humour. They’d had a stand up argument when NG had demanded that all the Chief’s personnel be screened. Neither of them had handled it well. He’d been impatient and unimpressed, the Chief defensive and unrelenting, both of them hurt that people they’d considered their own could have betrayed them. NG had felt the harsh reality of it – he’d lost Banks and was still sore from Earth’s hospitality – and for the Chief to stand there in the safety of the Alsatia and accuse him of over-reacting had flipped him over the edge.
It had been a long week.
Micah Sorensen answered the questions easily. His thoughts were simple to read. The field operative was relieved that Hil was back, it took some of the pressure off him to vie for that top spot in the standings, felt like life might get back to normal.
The Chief glanced at NG.
Sorensen was clear. They’d all been clear. It had been draining but he knew for certain that Acquisitions was clean.
He nodded.
The Chief gave Sorensen permission to leave, watched the tall field-op walk out then sat back, glaring at NG. “Satisfied?”
NG stood up and walked to the door. “I will be when we’ve gone through Legal and Media.”
The Chief stood, regretting his attitude, relief diluting his temper. “NG…”
He didn’t stop. He didn’t need to babysit the section chiefs and he had no inclination to soothe egos. LC was still missing, Mendhel’s daughter had vanished and Zang was still at large and no doubt plotting against them. And god only knew where Martha Hetherington had crawled back to. Never mind the Order, who weren’t going to forgive and forget the recent blows he’d dealt them, and the fact that he still didn’t know for definite who had set the Assassins after him. The Chief could relax but the guild was a way off being settled yet, if it ever would be again.