The man did have one massive flaw. He was a megalomaniac, Krijero realized. He thought he was untouchable. That Krijero would have dared to decide otherwise, without any proof, was beyond his understanding.
Benor’s professional demeanor returned. “You’re a criminal psychologist, not an investigator. Someone told you something. Name names and I’ll let you go.”
Benor would never let him go. But a part of Krijero that had already folded from the pain begged to believe he could be released from this hell. To give Benor anything, just for a chance at ending the torment.
Krijero said, “The only man who ever spoke a word was Nobek Latwik over ten years ago. But he didn’t know your name!”
Benor snorted. “No, those dimwitted gang members were kept in the dark.” Reasonable smile. “Imdiko, don’t try to be a hero. Talk.”
Krijero broke. He sobbed helplessly, knowing what was coming, knowing there was no way to avoid what would happen next. More agony was seconds away, about to be added to a battered, bleeding body that already screamed.
“I’ve answered truthfully. You’re going to kill me anyway, so just get it over with,” he wept.
Benor sighed and nodded to the Nobeks. Six of them spread Krijero out over the floor and held him down, making him scream just from the pressure of their hands on his tormented flesh. None of them reacted. Damn if they didn’t look bored, in fact. Just another day at the office for these guys, Krijero supposed.
Panow kneeled next to him and nodded to the man pinning the Imdiko’s wrist to the floor. The Nobek held Krijero’s hand up.
Panow broke all the fingers of that hand with slow and casual ease. Shrieking pain barreled up Krijero’s arm and he shrieked with it, the high-pitched cries rebounding through the room. His stomach heaved, but he’d already vomited everything early on. He had nothing left.
From a million miles away, he thought he heard Benor say, “That will do for now.” They released Krijero once more, the stoic-faced Nobeks drawing back far enough so that Benor could watch him writhe and squall in helpless anguish.
It was an eternity before Krijero’s misery ebbed enough for Benor to address him again. The Dramok smiled. “It’s true, Doctor. I am going to have you killed. Right now, the only thing you have to bargain for is a merciful end and your friends’ lives. What were those names again, Dexel?”
“Gelan and Wynhod.”
No. The threat knit Krijero’s fragmented mind back together. He even managed to get past enough of the pain to raise his head and shoulders off the floor to confront Benor. “Leave them alone. They don’t know any of this. I went to Utta myself. Gelan wouldn’t believe me when I told him Frenzy was based out of this territory!”
Dexel snorted. “Nice try. The three of you are so thick you’re practically joined at the hip.”
Benor nodded. “I agree. I think we’ll have to pick them up next. Perhaps the Nobek will talk when we show them this one’s carved, broken body and start doing the same to his Dramok.”
Benor gave Krijero that disappointed, almost sad look again. “It’s too bad you didn’t want to help. It would have saved us both a lot of trouble.” He looked up at his Nobek thugs. “Make sure you’re creative and get it to last as long as possible. We want the coroner to report he suffered the majority of the damage before he died. He’ll be an example to the other territory police.”
The Nobeks nodded. They grabbed Krijero once again and spread his agonized body wide. He screamed at the fresh waves of pain.
“Break it all? Then cut and gut?” someone asked.
Another casual tone. “Works for me.”
Panow stood over Krijero with a plasma rifle, butt end down. He smashed it down on Krijero’s forearm. It was as if an explosion went off in the Imdiko’s arm. Agony demolished all sense, leaving Krijero screaming until he nearly passed out from lack of oxygen.
When the gray fog of blessed unconsciousness drifted away without delivering its promise of escape, Panow was still there, waiting. “Back with us, Psych?” he asked. “Good.” The butt of the rifle raised and centered over Krijero’s upper arm.
A panicked yell made Panow pause. Everyone’s attention moved from Krijero to the Nobek dashing into the room.
“Dramok Benor! Territory police have surrounded the complex! They know we’ve got this guy in here and they’re calling for you to surrender him! They asked for you by name!”
Benor, who had been watching his men torture Krijero, jumped out of his chair. He stared at the sobbing Imdiko. His professional demeanor erased to make room for livid fury. “How – damn it, you fucking snoop! Now you’ve ruined everything!”
He stood there, shaking from head to toe. The rest of them looked at each other, their faces pale with shock. The Nobeks let go of Krijero, drawing away a few steps as if distance would discount what they’d done to him.
The unthinkable had happened. Dramok Benor, the ghost behind Delir and Frenzy, had been found out after 12 invisible years. That his henchmen simply stood around in stunned disbelief told Krijero they had never expected this to happen. Benor had been too good at covering his tracks, giving them all the false sense of omnipotence.
Krijero knew they would kill him now, quickly. It almost seemed like a good compromise. At least the pain would end.
Benor’s brain slowly kicked into gear, though it was obvious the businessman front had completely crumbled. Right now he looked more like a little boy caught by his parents than an industrial giant – or even a ruthless drug kingpin. The clinical part of Krijero’s brain watched the childlike fear with interest.
Benor said, “All right. All right. He doesn’t die. He’s no good to me dead.” He gave Krijero a furious look of hatred. The Imdiko knew it wouldn’t take much to change Benor’s mind on that count.
The Dramok turned to the Nobek who’d run in to warn him. Terrified anger had set in, driving away any resemblance to the professional Benor. “Tell those bastards if they come in here, I’ll kill him. I’ll toss his sorry carcass right off the side of the mountain. I want safe passage off this planet and out of the Empire. What are you waiting for? Go!”
The Nobek rushed out again. Dexel took several steps away from Benor before saying, “The department won’t go for it. There are no deals made with hostage takers—”
“Shut up!” Benor screamed, spit flying from his mouth in streams. “For one of their own, they’ll do it! They’d better fucking do it, or you’re all dead!”
Dexel exchanged a look with Panow. His partner said, “Playing along with negotiations will at least buy us time. We can figure something out.”
He glanced down at Krijero who had curled into himself, cradling his busted arm. Panow’s expression looked as panicked as Benor’s. For a cop to go dirty was akin to a sin. For him to turn against his own, even a psych, was the ultimate in betrayal. If the other enforcers caught up to him, he knew he’d be lucky to make it to trial.
Krijero didn’t care about Panow’s fate. He no longer cared about anything that happened around him. He only wished with all his heart that he would lose consciousness so he could miss the rest of this nightmare.
* * * *
On top of the mountain that held the warehouses and shipping arm of Benor Industries, Gelan nodded to Wynhod after the voice on his headset stopped speaking. “Signal received. They’ve engaged Benor in negotiations.”
Wynhod gave his tethers one last tug. “All right. Here I go.”
The cloaked shuttle had dropped them on the very top of the peak, where no shielding existed. The craggy top of the mountain was much too inhospitable to warrant a barrier, especially since the closest access to the interior was nearly a mile down.
The night was a black sheet overhead, the multitudes of stars crystal clear in the cold air. Wynhod and Gelan hadn’t often climbed when the temperatures dipped so low because of the ice that tended to form quickly at these elevations. However, they did have the highest grade traction mountaineering shoes and gloves, and th
eir bodysuits were insulated. They were as prepared as they could get for the treacherous, freezing descent.
Moving with the care and grace of a longtime mountain enthusiast, the Nobek began his downward journey. Gelan aimed the nightvision camera of his handheld at the Nobek, keeping a clear view of his clanmate, the precarious route he would have to follow, and the proximity of the security shield.
The first of the two narrowest passages they had to navigate began only a few feet down. It took Wynhod mere minutes to reach it.
Gelan spoke into his headset. “All right, you’re a foot above the start of the narrow area. Make yourself as small as possible, Wynhod. You’ve got only six inches clearance on each side.”
Wynhod’s voice in his earpiece was low but clear. “Copy that.”
He worked his way down slowly, inches at a time. Gelan forced himself to breathe as he charted his partner’s progress. It would be his turn next, and he wanted to be aware of Wynhod’s every move so he could copy the descent.
The sound of plinking pebbles reached his ears. Wynhod cursed.
“Are you all right?” Gelan willed his speeding heart to slow.
“It’s slippery and there are loose rocks. If they’re dislodged and bounce the wrong way—”
He didn’t have to finish the statement. A large enough stone tumbling down could set off the security alarm. Gelan hoped the system was keyed to dismiss tumbling rocks, as they would be a constant on a mountain. But Benor hadn’t eluded them so long and so completely by being sloppy. It could be his security team investigated everything, even naturally falling debris.
He gave Wynhod a warning. “You’re getting tight on your right.”
“Yeah, the best footholds are that way. Naturally. All right, I’m inching left.”
“You’re almost through, my Nobek. Just another couple of yards.”
There were more whispered directions and more sounds of pebbles clinking loose. Gelan kept catching himself holding his breath, waiting for some sign of discovery to happen. After minutes that felt like years, Wynhod’s more relaxed voice reached him.
“The crevice is a straight shot from here.”
“Looking good. You’re through the narrow section from the waist down. Just ease yourself into the safer zone.”
Wynhod slid clear, giving himself an almost spacious couple of feet on either side of clearance. Gelan’s shoulders sagged in relief.
Wynhod’s voice sounded in his ear. “One down. Your turn, my Dramok.”
Gelan stowed his handheld and checked his anchor one last time. “Ready to move.”
“All right, straight as an arrow for as long as you can.”
Gelan began his descent. When the path curved out, Wynhod’s words guided him carefully on his route. The Dramok was anxious to reach Krijero, and having to go slowly wore on his nerves. However, he knew he’d be no good to his Imdiko dead, so he forced himself to move in delicate increments.
He reached the tightest point of the descent when his climbing shoe slipped on an icy rock. The stone, about the size of his fist, clattered down.
“Wynhod, look out!”
He winced and waited for the security alarm to go off. The rock had to have collided with the security shielding. When the seconds ticked by and no sign an alarm had been raised, Gelan started to let himself calm a little.
He took a breath. “Did you get hit?”
Wynhod sounded barely flustered. “It chipped my shoulder. I think we’re okay. Ease down now, a little more to your left. Good. Almost there.”
He talked Gelan down until the Dramok clung to the mountainside just above him, clear of the tight pass. Gelan caught the gleam of Wynhod’s teeth as he grinned up at him.
“Nice job, Investigator. They might have to raise your climbing classification after this.”
Gelan snorted. “I’ll settle for getting our Imdiko back alive. Come on, partner, let’s go.”
They were able to move quicker until they reached the area two levels above the warehouse unit where Krijero’s com signal had come from. It had taken longer to get down the incline than either of the wanted to think about. Still they paused, both men checking the situation out with their handhelds.
Gelan frowned hard at what he saw. “I don’t like the looks of the passage three yards down. There’s an outcropping that’s going to give us serious shit, if it doesn’t stop us altogether.”
Wynhod put his handheld in its pouch on his belt. “Just get me down there. I’ll figure it out.”
They really had no other choice. “Okay. Start by bearing right.”
Wynhod started down. This particular crevice wasn’t nearly as hairy as the first one had been, at least not at the outset. However, when the Nobek reached the outcropping that concerned them so much, the tension in his tone was palpable.
“Yeah, this is fucking ugly, Gelan. This is trouble. I don’t know that it will even hold my weight.”
“Is it impassable?”
“If I had more room between it and the shield, I could dance my way down.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Fuck.” Wynhod went quiet for a few seconds. An expulsion of breath let Gelan know he had come to a decision. “Krijero’s life depends on this. We’ve got no choice but to try.”
Gelan could only watch and wait, hoping for the best. He knew if it was at all possible to get through, Wynhod would find a way. However, the odds were against it.
Shaking off a sense of dread, Gelan said, “Watch your handholds. Hugging the inside of that thing will get you through, but the shielding is all over the outer edge.”
“I’m going for it.”
Gelan watched his partner, lover, and lifemate on the handheld as Wynhod began the attempt to save the other partner, lover, and lifemate. The Nobek curled precariously around the jutting slab of rock, his legs, hips, and waist undulating to take advantage of every bit of space he could find. The outcropping held, absorbing his weight with apparently no problem and he was doing well until—
Gelan’s heart beat in alarm. “Hold, Wynhod, hold right there. You are half an inch from setting the shield off.”
“Shit, Gelan. The underside pokes out farther than the top of this rock. I can’t get back up from this position either. I’ve got no choice but to keep going.”
“Fuck, you’re too wide. Fuck,” Gelan breathed.
The Nobek’s chest and shoulders were simply too broad to make it through. He would trigger the shielding.
Despite the precarious situation, Wynhod’s tone was one of utter poise. “Calm down, my Dramok, and look it over carefully. Can I twist my body to fit?”
“Only if you hang on by one hand. Try propping on the other side, at the small of your back. Yeah. Yeah, lower yourself the full stretch of your arms … that’s it … now twist to your right … a little more … okay in that position, lower straight down.”
Wynhod grunted. “Fucking contortionist shit here. Okay. Okay, I’m coming up against a curve in the rock wall—”
He twisted in a way Gelan couldn’t believe any body should go. Gelan tried not to think about it as he continued to give Wynhod direction. “Keep your shoulders right there. You’ve got room to move the lower part of your body. Get your legs back in line with your torso. All right. Down. Down. All right, Wynhod, you’re through.”
Gelan heaved in a breath. Despite the cold of the night, he sweated profusely.
Wynhod sounded as out of breath as Gelan felt. “Well that was fun. Care to join me?”
The Dramok ignored the churn of his guts. After this, he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to go mountain climbing again. Shoving his uneasiness aside, he said, “Sure, why not?”
Down he went, making himself pay avid attention to every finger and toehold as he navigated the sadistic rock that wanted to keep him from his Imdiko. He was forced to twist so hard to get past it that he knew his spine might never recover. Pain shot down the length of his legs, but he ground his teeth and forced himself
on, obeying Wynhod’s every direction. With the Nobek’s careful guidance he got through.
His knees trembling in a way they never had before in his life, Gelan told the other man, “Let’s never do that again.”
“Agreed. Come on, we’re almost there.”
The rest of the descent seemed to mock them with the ease they were able to rappel down. They quickly reached the gap in the rock that would give them access to the warehouse level. After disconnecting their lines and creeping in through the large but slender crack in the mountain, they found themselves peering into a shuttle bay. No one seemed to be around. They stepped into the cavernous space. They were in.
Wynhod shot Gelan a look. “I guess they never expected anyone to be crazy enough to climb their way in here.”
“Lucky for us, we’re fucking lunatics. Let’s go find our Imdiko.”
Flitting through the shadows, the two men went in search.
Chapter 14
Over the hour that passed after it became known law enforcement had arrived, Krijero remained in a broken pile on the floor, shuddering with pain and cold. As much as he’d wished to lose consciousness, he remained hideously aware of everything going on around him.
Dramok Dexel had gotten more and more insistent with Benor about the futility of reasoning with negotiators for safe passage. So far, the Frenzy mastermind had issued all his demands through one of the Nobek heavies he employed. Now he readied to jump on the com himself.
“They’ll see me and know it’s time to back off. The delaying tactics will end.” Benor preened with smug self-importance. Krijero realized the man actually believed no one would dare to deny him. His ego was beyond any the Imdiko had encountered before.
Dexel blocked Benor’s path to the vid communicator. “Forget it, Benor. Once they talk to you personally, they’ll know you won’t make a deal. When they figure that out, it’s over. The department has a hard, fast rule that they don’t let any murder suspect go free, even if it means a dead hostage.”
Benor looked at Dexel as if the man had just shouted expletives in his face. “Murder? I don’t kill people. I’m a business man. I sell a product.”
Clan and Conviction (Clan Beginnings) Page 33