Hell to Pay: A Mercenary Warfare Adventure

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Hell to Pay: A Mercenary Warfare Adventure Page 8

by Zen DiPietro


  HE SPENT a great deal of that day sitting around the hive. At least there he could watch people and listen in to conversations rather than putter around his quarters.

  Not that the conversations around him amounted to much. Mostly, they were mundane, but at least they were reflective of people going about their everyday lives. Cabot had always enjoyed people-watching.

  When evening came, he wondered just how long he’d be caught in this holding pattern. He was serving no useful purpose. He had a morsel of information to share, if he could just get the opportunity to do so. Other than that, he had no business remaining aboard.

  Omar and Nagali came and went, eating, shopping, then moving on. Actually, Omar returned a couple times for more eats. Where he put it all, Cabot had no idea. He was a fit guy.

  Cabot was sipping a bland carbonated beverage that people on Jamestown apparently liked for some reason when his escort approached.

  “If you’ll come with me, sir.”

  “Where?” Cabot asked.

  “Senior staff meeting room. They’d like to talk to you.”

  Finally. But he said only, “Of course.”

  As he accompanied the officer through the now-familiar corridors of the station, he wondered what they wanted, and what had been happening while he waited. He imagined some long and vigorous discussions with Ditnya had occurred, but he could only imagine the nature of those conversations.

  Truth be told, he didn’t particularly care. This matter had moved out of his realm and into that of others. He was perfectly content to let them do what they did best so they could kindly allow him to go back to doing what he did best.

  Upon entering the room, he saw Ditnya, Fallon, Peregrine, and Admiral Krazinski. No Erickson this time. He wondered if that was because Erickson was handling something else or some other reason.

  “Mr. Layne,” Krazinski said. “Please have a seat.”

  Cabot made a small bow to the assembly, then did as instructed.

  “We’ve managed to work out an agreement for the PAC and Ms. Caine to work together on this matter. Now it’s time for us to determine our strategy. I understand you believe you have a clue, and have been waiting to present it,” the admiral said.

  “That’s true. I’m not certain what can be made of it, but I did discover a link, and I didn’t want to risk the leaking of that information.” Cabot addressed the admiral, but glanced at Fallon and Peregrine when he stopped speaking.

  “I appreciate that. A person who can maintain confidentiality is well respected around here. You’ve no doubt noticed that Admiral Erickson isn’t here. He and I have different roles on Jamestown. He is more about operations and the state of the PAC as a whole, while I lead the intelligence division. As such, we decided that I should be in charge of this operation.”

  “Plausible deniability?” Cabot ventured.

  “Something like that. It goes without saying that everyone in this room is bound by confidentiality. I can’t emphasize that enough.” The admiral glanced to Fallon and Peregrine. “I’ve been told that you’ve proven yourself trustworthy, and that’s the only reason you’ve been invited to this meeting rather than being debriefed in private.

  “I see.” Cabot didn’t know if that was a threat or if Krazinski was merely outlining the privilege he’d been granted.

  He didn’t feel privileged. He’d never wanted to get involved in such things, and hadn’t sought it now. He was doing them a favor, not the other way around.

  Krazinski frowned slightly. Perhaps he’d expected Cabot to look dutifully impressed. “Please share whatever information you have.”

  Cabot folded his hands together. “I’m not sure how much you know about me, Admiral, but my specialty is finding links and associations that allow me to predict future market conditions. Speculative investments are my hobby and I have a knack for them. I scrape all the data I can find, spread it out, map it, and layer other data sets on top. Then I apply what I know, and I’ve learned a lot over the years. When I get a hunch about something, I’m rarely wrong.”

  “I can vouch for his instincts and powers of observation, sir.” Fallon turned her head toward Krazinski.

  “And how much is this information going to cost?” Krazinski asked.

  Cabot was a lot of things, but he wasn’t the guy who demanded money for information that could help innocent people. “Nothing.”

  Although. It would be silly to miss out on an opportunity, if one existed. “Though if you find my help useful, and that I’ve proven myself to be trustworthy, I wouldn’t mind a little help, if I should ever be in the position of needing it.”

  “Are you expecting such a situation?” Krazinski’s eyebrow rose.

  “No. I keep my business clean. But we live in uncertain times. I’m not making any demands. Just a suggestion.”

  “Very well. Your suggestion is noted, but don’t keep us in suspense,” Krazinski said. “Tell us what you suspect.”

  He explained the link he’d found between Bristle Washpoh, his brother Jonny, and the philanthropic One Universe foundation. It took less than three minutes.

  The admiral glanced at Fallon and Peregrine, and a look passed between them. Cabot didn’t know if it meant the admiral thought he might be on to something, or if he’d wasted their time. They might know something about One Universe to substantiate or invalidate his idea that they could be involved, either directly or indirectly and without knowledge.

  Krazinski looked to Ditnya. “Do you have any information to add to this?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll take a charity’s money just as I’ll take anyone else’s, but I’ve had no dealings with them.”

  Krazinski said, “All right. Thank you, Mr. Layne. Your service is noted. All fees owed to you will be transferred, plus a bonus for the previously unspecified work you did on an ad hoc basis.”

  Cabot wasn’t used to hearing such traderly words coming from an admiral. It was kind of exciting. And the word “bonus” was guaranteed to make a trader’s pulse increase. For Cabot it wasn’t about the money, but the game. He quite liked this turn of events, as well as his rising sense of anticipation. Was he done here?

  “I hope we can count on you in the future, should we need your assistance,” Krazinski continued, “but you and your friends are hereby approved for departure. You may leave whenever you wish.”

  The words were like sweet music.

  “Thank you, Admiral. It was a pleasure doing business.” He stood and bowed.

  Ditnya eyed him. “Keep safe, Cabot. I’m sure we’ll cross paths again in the not too distant future.”

  “You never know,” he agreed. “We live in strange times.”

  She smiled at that, and he decided there was no better time to get out of there.

  “I’M NOT TAKING A CARGO TRANSIT,” Nagali announced, standing in the center of his quarters. “I want to see your station and your shop.”

  Cabot suppressed a groan. “There isn’t much there that would appeal to you. I think you’d be bored.”

  She shrugged. “If I get bored, I’ll buy passage on a transit ship and go somewhere else. Maybe Blackthorn or Sarkan. Ooh, or maybe Dineb. I could go for a good party.”

  “Why not go back to Dauntless?” he asked.

  “It hasn’t been as much fun lately,” she admitted. “People are being conservative with their spending. It makes life dull. I’m curious to get a look at what other marketplaces are offering, and to get out of my rut. These last months of adventuring have been fun.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Let me get this straight. We’ve gone to a planet about to be attacked, blown up a Barony battleship, smuggled Brivinium, stumbled across the slave trade, gone into cahoots with the galaxy’s most notorious crime boss, blown up an underground operation, and been sequestered under guard at PAC’s command central. And that’s fun to you?”

  She put her hand on his arm. “I love the word cahoots. It’s so fun. Cahoots. Cahoots. Ca-hoots.” She drew out the
syllables.

  He sent her a dirty look and she let her hand drop. “Fine. Though it isn’t fair to say that we blew up that underground place. That was Pigie. But overall, yes, it’s been fun. Don’t you think?”

  He tried to consider it objectively. Now that it was all in the past, he had to admit that it held some adventurous appeal. “It’s had its moments. But I’m ready to go home and leave the heavy lifting to the people who do that sort of thing.”

  “And I want to see that home.” She nodded, the matter closed as far as she was concerned.

  She’d be hard to dissuade since she’d made up her mind. Maybe if she got to Dragonfire and found that there were no illegal card games, no smuggling, and little debauchery, she’d get bored quickly and move on without embarrassing him too much.

  “Very well,” he agreed. “But if you get into trouble, I will not intercede on your behalf.”

  “I’ll be on my best behavior,” she promised.

  “What about Omar? Is he coming, too?”

  “I don’t think he’s decided. You should ask him,” she said.

  “Why don’t you?”

  “I need to start packing. My clothes have to be stored just right, or they get terribly wrinkled.” She gave him a cheery wave, and slipped out the door.

  He needed very little time to pack. After he’d gotten his things together, he went to see what Omar’s plans were.

  Omar was zipping up his bag when Cabot entered.

  “Where are you headed?” Cabot asked. “I hear there’s a betting pool. Four to one odds on Dineb.”

  Omar’s eyes unfocused, giving him a wistful expression. “Good food, fun parties, everyone up for a good time? Yeah, I could use that. But no. I’m coming with you.”

  Cabot couldn’t decide if this was better or worse for him. “Why?”

  “It’s where Peregrine’s stationed, and you and Nagali are headed there. It seems like the place to be.”

  “When you put it that way,” Cabot said, “I think I’m good with you coming along.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Presumably, you care about Peregrine, and you know that if Nagali makes trouble, it could make trouble for Peregrine. If you’re there keeping Nagali in line, I’ll feel a little better.”

  Omar looked suddenly less certain of his choice. But he rallied. “She’s been better lately. It’ll be fine.”

  “Lately is the operative term,” Cabot pointed out. “She’s still Nagali.”

  “Right. I’ll keep an eye out.”

  At least that was something.

  AS WITH OTHER RECENT EXPLOITS, now that Cabot’s time on Jamestown was ending, he had to appreciate the novelty of the experience. It really was a rather pretty station, as new and updated as it was.

  But finally, he was headed home.

  Nagali went through the airlock first, followed by Omar. Before Cabot could step through, someone else entered.

  Two someones.

  “Leaving without us?” Fallon asked.

  “I thought you’d be staying aboard for some time,” he said.

  “So did we,” Peregrine said. “But we’ve been redirected to take care of some things on Dragonfire. There’s a lot going on these days.”

  “There certainly is.” Cabot stepped back from the airlock. “Please, go ahead. It’s your ship, after all.”

  They boarded the ship and he followed, liking this turn of events.

  Having both of them aboard and no Ditnya, he’d have normal access to communications and fewer shifts on the bridge, if any.

  It was time to get back to business.

  SOMETIMES, after looking forward to something a great deal, the reality fails to live up to expectation.

  Not so with Cabot’s return to Dragonfire.

  As soon as he stepped into the docking bay, the smell of home hit him. The scents of the food court were immediately identifiable in their particular mix of specialties, and there was something unique he couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe it was cleansing solvent or perhaps the particularities of the air filtration system. Or, more likely, it was all the tiny details put together into a unique blend.

  Fallon smiled at Omar, Nagali, and Cabot as she stepped off. “The Outlaw’s a nice ship, isn’t it?”

  Omar nodded. “Yeah. Cabot’s lucky to have a friend who’d loan it to him.”

  Fallon’s smile turned into a grin. “He really, really is, isn’t he?” She laughed. “Anyway, I hope you two enjoy your stay here.”

  She and Peregrine strode out, leaving Omar with a look of dawning realization. “This is her ship?”

  Cabot nodded. “It is.”

  Omar’s right eyelid lowered just slightly. “There’s a lot going on that I don’t know about, isn’t there?”

  “Oh yes. So very much. And no, I’m not going to fill you in.”

  Omar’s chin went up. “Don’t think you can trust me?”

  “I am no more inclined toward blind trust than I ever was. But no, that’s not it. It’s that you’re better off not knowing.”

  Omar’s eyelid raised again and he nodded slowly. “Fair enough.”

  “I like her,” Nagali said.

  “Fallon?” Cabot was surprised, though he shouldn’t be. Nagali had mellowed recently, but she was still hard to predict.

  “Yes. Much more style than the big blond one.” Nagali looked at Omar as she said it.

  Omar sighed. “How about you show us around, Cabot? I haven’t been here in a long time.”

  “I’ll show you to your rooms,” Cabot offered, “then I’ll meet you for an early dinner. I have a few deals to handle on the voicecom first, but it should only take an hour or so. After dinner, I’ll give you a tour.”

  “Can I have quarters near yours?” Nagali asked as they walked down the boardwalk.

  “Nope. I’m in a different section designated for residents. You’ll be in guest quarters. Don’t worry. I booked you nice rooms on the way.”

  She looked disappointed, but nodded. “I’m sure they’ll do.”

  AS SOON AS Cabot entered his quarters, he had the feeling he wasn’t alone.

  An image of Ditnya putting a hit out on him flared in his mind.

  But it was Fallon who moved into view. He sighed with relief.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said.

  “Well, you did.”

  “Again—sorry. But I wanted to talk to you alone and didn’t want to be seen hanging around your quarters. Since you’ve been gone, and crossed paths with certain people involved in certain things, I thought it prudent to sweep your quarters for any monitoring devices.”

  “And?” he prompted.

  “You’re clear.”

  “That’s a relief.” He set his bag on a chair. He was trying to play it cool, but his blood was still on fire with the sudden fear of impending death.

  “Did you think the PAC had sent someone to kill you?” she asked.

  “Actually, that hadn’t occurred to me as a possibility until now. Thanks for planting that idea.”

  “Ditnya, then?” she prodded.

  “Yes. Though I don’t think she has any reason to off me at this point, she doesn’t really need a specific reason. Damage control. Making herself more invaluable. Something. You can’t put anything past her.”

  “I don’t. That’s why we’re practicing all due caution, just in case, while we work with her.”

  An idea struck him. “Is that why you’re here? Looking out for me?”

  “Partly. I told you I’d protect you. But Per and I have some other things to take care of here, too.”

  “I see.”

  “I like your friends,” she remarked.

  “Friends, plural?” Though many people liked Omar, Nagali was less likely to win people over, unless she chose to pour on the charm.

  Fallon grinned. “Yes.”

  She didn’t elaborate, and Cabot decided not to ask why.

  “What’s your plan, now that you’re bac
k?” she asked.

  “Catch up with people on the station, see how Nix is doing with her studies. Re-inventory my shop to make sure my assistant hasn’t stolen anything. In general, just enjoy a slower pace.”

  Her smile had faded, and she nodded.

  “Why?” Even to him, his voice sounded suspicious. Maybe a little defensive. “Is there something I should know about?”

  “Do you want there to be?” she asked.

  “No. Actually, I don’t. I’d like all the bad guys to be rounded up, and the Barony put firmly in their place, and for us all to continue on with business as usual.”

  “That would be nice,” she agreed.

  “Yes.”

  He held her gaze, sensing the things she didn’t say. That the situation was more complicated than that, and that things were far from over.

  Then the moment passed, and she put on a cheery smile. “Well, enjoy your quiet time! I hope your friends have a nice stay.”

  Once alone, Cabot took his bags to his bedroom and put everything away with slow precision.

  Had Fallon wanted to say something more to him? Warn him about something? Maybe suggest that he be careful?

  But she’d know he was as careful as he could be, and that he knew how dangerous Ditnya was. There would be no point in saying that aloud.

  Maybe she’d wanted to tell him that she’d need his help again, but decided not to so he could enjoy the next days.

  Anything seemed possible at this point. The glow of his homecoming faded, making it bittersweet.

  “MR. LAYNE!” Nix rushed into Cabot’s quarters. “You’re back!”

  She surprised him with a quick, impetuous hug, but he patted her back in return.

  “Apparently you knew that or you wouldn’t be here,” he pointed out.

  “I only just found out. I went to the Deck 1 security office and saw the Outlaw had docked.”

  “Ah. But what if I hadn’t been on board when it did?”

  “You wouldn’t have answered your door.” She grinned at him.

  “You got me there.” He chuckled.

  “Did you bring anything back?” she asked.

 

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