by Eric Wood
“You don’t,” Roosevelt said, smiling now again as smugly as he had at this meeting’s beginning. “But I believe traditionally a deal like this is paid half up front and half upon completion. Consider your freedom the first half of the payment.”
Still breathing, Sammie. Now get out, while the getting’s still good, Vincente whispered.
Sam let exhale a long breath and nodded.
Roosevelt clapped his hands. “We have a deal then. Good.” He slid the disc across the table to Sam. “We will be in touch, Sam. Do not let me down. My soldiers will escort you out.”
“You can keep that fake Company outfit, too, kid,” the scarred agent added with what might have been a wink. “At least till all this is over. After that, it might not be as safe to pretend to be one of us.”
Sam swallowed hard and nodded, then turned to the door. He stepped back into the elevator, hoping Abigail had done better than him. Because somehow, despite his best efforts, he had not only taken a side in a conflict he wanted no part in, he had somehow taken both.
And he had less idea than ever what he was going to do next.
23
Sam should have been back by now.
Abigail paced around the bar just outside Madame Ki's office; any patron or goon of Ki's that was bold enough to meet her eye quickly averted their eyes under her glower. He should have been back by now. Something was wrong.
Roach and the lanky, hirsute boy from Roosevelt's underground lab sat in a corner booth, both of them with their hands bound, under the watchful eyes of Hydra. Roach hadn't been happy with this development, even after Abigail added that it was—probably—only temporary, but the Ravager seemed too exhausted to make more than a minor fuss. The other, Rend, took it in the same bemused stride as he seemed to be taking everything.
Abigail would have killed for a bit of his uncanny calm right about now. She checked her watch yet again; Sam should have been back fifteen minutes ago. That's it, she thought, I'm going back in.
She had just begun gathering her gear when Madame Ki swept out of her office, followed closely by Highmane and a handful of other heavies. "What is it?" Abigail called. Ki cast her a single cold glance and shook her head. As Ki reached the door to the Shadow Market it was pulled open, more of Ki's men rushing in. In their midst, held on her feet between two of them, was a battered and bloody Elena.
The entire group was quickly ferried into Ki's office. The door slammed shut behind them, and Abigail was there in an instant, pounding her fist against the cold wood, demanding answers.
The door opened a crack, and Abigail found herself staring at Highmane's armor-clad chest. "You'll have answers when we have them," he said, his voice like rolling thunder. "No sooner."
The door slammed shut and locked. Abigail roared and pounded on it again. She turned, grabbed a nearby liquor bottle and hurled it against the wall. She leaned forward and rested her hands on a nearby tabletop, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to hold on to some semblance of control.
"What's got you so upset?" a familiar voice asked from the far side of the room.
She took a deep breath and looked up, certain her mind was playing tricks on her.
They were not. Standing at the foot of the stairs, holding up a battered old disc and looking more than a little exhausted, was her Sam.
Before she realized what she was doing she was across the room and at the stairs. Before she could think about it, she had Sam in her arms. Before she could talk herself out of it, she was kissing him.
All of the fear and desire and apprehension and affection that had been burning within her these last hours and days and weeks seemed to ignite into a blinding bright light that overcame her entire body. It felt like it was going to consume her. She didn't care.
Finally, after what could have been moments or eons, she pulled her head away, still hugging him tightly to her. "You're late," she said.
"I might need to start being late more often," Sam said sheepishly.
She pushed him away half-heartedly and rolled her eyes.
"I need to talk with Madame Ki," he said. "We have a problem."
"We have a problem," Madame Ki said from behind her desk.
Abigail sat next to Sam opposite Ki. They had been summoned into her office moments after Sam's arrival. There had been just enough time for Sam to whisper to her the briefest outline of what had really occurred at Roosevelt's: Abigail was now trying to decide if she should continue to hear Ki out or leap across her desk and rip the bitch's throat out.
"I would say so," Sam answered. Below the desk, Abigail could see Sam was clenching his fists tightly enough to turn the knuckles white. He’d looked somewhat stunned since he had returned, though Abigail wondered whether that had something to do with their kiss. She knew she didn't, at the moment, feel entirely in control. In any case, he seemed to have found his bearings, as well as his anger.
"We can get to what exactly happened during your mission, Mr. Brennan, and how you were able to return to us without Elena, in due time. More immediate concerns take precedent." She lifted the data drive Sam had given her and briefly inspected it before setting it back down to her left. "I had originally planned to move against my counterpart immediately after the successful completion of your mission, which you have now done."
"That's us," Sam said. "Always ready to lend a hand to a loyal friend like you."
Madame Ki narrowed her eyes at him. "Of course. While you were gone, unforeseen events have taken place, altering the situation of Cheyenne. I am afraid I will need further assistance from you two."
"No," Sam said, setting his jaw. "Hell no. We did what you asked, and now we're done. Get some other saps to do your dirty work. Madame."
Ki picked up the blue disc, rotating it slowly in her fingers. Her eyes never blinked, holding Sam’s gaze. "And just what will I find on this disc, Mr. Brennan? Have you really delivered what I asked for, or have you and Roosevelt provided me with a surprise gift?”
She knew. Abigail tensed and quickly decided who to attack first. Highmane was the biggest threat; she would go for his exposed throat.
"Relax, Abigail," Ki said. "It may surprise you to know I planned for this eventuality. You might say I even expected it." She gave Sam a knowing smile. "What did he tell you, that I was going to turn you in for the bounty?" She nodded, still smiling now to herself. “Did he give you the sad story about me being the devil in disguise? What kind of deal did he make to let you out alive?”
Abigail exchanged a look with Sam. He no longer looked angry so much as frightened.
Ki snapped her fingers, focusing attention back to her. She scoffed. "I swear, the man is nothing if not predictable. I can still use this disc, even if Roosevelt has booby-trapped it. It will just take my people time to disarm his traps. Unfortunately, we have far less time than I had hoped, considering the news I just received."
"Division within the city is no longer acceptable; yet distrust still runs deep between Roosevelt and myself. I need a neutral party to bridge this divide. I need outsiders. I need the two of you, now more than ever. This entire city needs you."
"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.
Ki steepled her fingers together and leaned in toward them. "I intend to call a meeting. To negotiate an armistice. This city needs to unite, or it will fall. A Ravager army is heading our way."
24
Highmane led their small party out of Ki's district and into the Central Market. In addition to Sam and Abigail, the group led by the giant consisted of two additional thugs at the front as well as two more at the rear, with Roach and Rend wedged tightly between them. The Ravager and her odd, quiet companion were kept from making trouble by the nylon bindings around their wrists and the shotguns at their backs.
Sam had insisted that Roach come along with them when they departed from Ki's. He hadn't traveled this far, nor gone through everything he had, to leave his quarry in the hands of someone as duplicitous and obviously untrustworthy as Madame Ki
. Now that he was sure Roosevelt didn’t have the data drive he had come to this city for, Roach was his last hope in tracking it down. Though his goal of completing Vincente's last mission was somewhat complicated by the unsettling news from his Colony, Roach was still his best bet in tracking down the information that his friend had died for. Sam just needed a chance to talk to the Ravager without Ki’s people around to hear their conversation. Then he could figure out how to sort out the confusion with the Colony.
Confusion, huh? Vincente's voice said with a laugh. That's what you're calling it? They're going to kill you, Sam. You know that, right?
No. Sam didn't believe that. He couldn't believe that. He had never really had a close connection with the people of his Colony, but it was still his home. He had already lost Vincente; what more did he have if the only people who raised him not only didn't want him back but actively wanted him dead?
He glanced over to Abigail, who was scanning the crowds of market dwellers ahead of them as they skirted the edge of the main square. He still had Abigail, but who knew what that really meant? He obviously cared about her, and he was even more obviously attracted to her, but none of that changed the fact that she was a Reaper. He had accepted that the stories of Reapers he’d grown up with were exaggerations and lies. He had accepted that in a lot of ways, maybe even in most ways, she was no different than him at her core, and he'd accepted that most of the differences between them were more due to their upbringings than their natures. Still, she was a Reaper, and he was not. There was always going to be that gulf between them; there was always going to be a part of her that was unknowable to him. That scared him as much as anything that was happening right now.
But none of that mattered when you came down those stairs, did it Sammy boy? Vincente asked. How frightened were you when she kissed you?
He hadn't been worried about any of that, he admitted. But among all the emotions he had felt in that moment — and there had been a lot, most of which he was still untangling — there had, in fact, been fear.
"We're here," Highmane grunted. The group had skirted the edge of the central market, arriving at what had once been an Old World fast food gas station. Now, it was apparently a bar.
The convenience store portion had been converted to a kitchen and dining room, and the fueling area into an outdoor seating area. Enclosing the whole thing were high walls cobbled together out of chicken wire, mismatched wooden boards, and corrugated tin paneling. High above, a sign that had once displayed daily gas prices now held only a single word: Jacinta's.
As their group reached the outer gates, they were met by a middle-aged woman wearing a paisley blue bandanna on her head and a heavy white butcher's apron on her torso. She stood with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed, obviously unintimidated standing toe-to-toe with the oversized killer.
"Took you long enough, big guy," she said to Highmane. "Get in there, we're already behind schedule." He nodded and the woman — Sam assumed this was Jacinta — led them inside.
It appeared that most of the meeting's attendees were already here. Seated at one of four long tables that had been arranged into an open square were people dressed like farmers, shop owners, and the like. Cheyenne's civilian leaders.
"What are we doing here?" Abigail whispered, leaning in toward Sam. "At least one of them — Ki or Roosevelt — is trying to get us killed. Probably both. The longer we stay, the more danger we're in."
Sam found it hard to argue with her reasoning.
"Let's at least listen to what they have to say," he whispered back. "Besides, we might be able to sneak away by ourselves, but it will be a lot harder to do that with the Ravager, and we still need to talk to her."
"To interrogate her," Abigail corrected coldly.
"...Right," Sam said. Her tone did not seem to indicate she was envisioning a nice, friendly interrogation.
"Okay, we'll stay for this," Abigail said. "But then we need to figure out what we're doing here. This city isn't safe for us."
No kidding. Before Sam could respond, the woman from outside appeared at his shoulder, arms crossed, an appraising look on her face.
"So, you two planning on standing around all day looking awkward, or are you going to take a seat?"
"You're Jacinta," Abigail said. It sounded to Sam like more of a statement than a question. Abigail tended to do that.
"Look, kids, we can exchange numbers and braid each other's hair later, but for now, just down sit at the table. Our precious overlords should be here any second; I don't want this meeting to last any longer than it has to. I've got drinks to sell."
As if on cue, the doors on either side of the room flew open, revealing the silhouettes of people with guns.
To Sam, the room suddenly felt very cold. "Let's, um, let's find those seats, Abigail," he said.
25
Sam sat down first and tried to ignore the variously curious, irritated, and contemptuous stares coming from the townspeople seated across from them. Their eyes turned away as Abigail lowered herself down next to him and cast her own withering glower their way. Sam's leg bounced nervously under the table. The silence in the semi-enclosed space felt almost physical, pushing down on him like a giant invisible hand. Even as recently as an hour ago he wouldn't have been able to imagine wishing the arrival of either Roosevelt or Ki, much less the two of them together.
He didn't have to wait long.
An anxious murmur began from the opposite side of the table. The citizens craned their heads to look past Sam and Abigail, some looking one way, some the other. Sam turned in his chair to see what had caught their attention. As if the two leaders had somehow choreographed their entrance, both Ki's and Roosevelt's groups emerged at opposite ends of the square simultaneously. For all Sam knew, they had coordinated it.
Roosevelt was dressed even more garishly than before. He wore a different dress uniform, this one a bright royal blue, and his chest seemed almost entirely covered in medals. Golden epaulets glowed atop each of his shoulders, and a matching golden service hat sat atop his head. He strode forward with a sort of grim purpose, flanked on one side by the same trio of lieutenants from his office, on the other by the same tablet-carrying young man Sam had seen earlier. Behind them stood a small group of black-masked soldiers.
Just inside the other door, Ki's party fanned out. Abigail picked out Highmane and Elena among the motley group of goons, street toughs, and gangsters.
Ki herself looked far different from the unassuming, almost forgettable businesswoman Sam was used to. She wore an elaborately styled black silk dress, and her hair was worn up and held in place by tiny metal sticks. She almost looked like she was going to a fancy Old World cocktail party; that is, if it wasn't for the assault rifle slung loosely over her slim shoulder. She walked slowly but deliberately, matching Roosevelt's pace, her arms folded in front of her, hands hidden within billowing sleeves. Her expression was somehow both perfectly neutral and unmistakably hostile.
The two leaders walked forward, stopping a few feet in front of one another. For a few tense moments each regarded the other in stony silence.
Roosevelt's lip had just begun to curl into a sneer, and Ki's mouth had formed the hint of a mocking smile, when Jacinta stepped up between the two of them.
"Alright you two," she said. "You asked for neutral ground, and I was kind enough to volunteer my joint. If you plan on shooting each other, you can damn well do it somewhere else. If you really want to sit down and talk, then let's get on with it."
Roosevelt grunted and raised a dismissive hand, but he also nodded and took a seat without complaint, his lieutenants and his computer guy trailing behind. Ki nodded respectfully to Jacinta before she and her group made their way to the opposite side of the tables from Roosevelt. Sam saw that she had brought Roach and Rend along with her, both of them still wearing their nylon wrist bindings.
Highmane joined Hydra next to Roach and Rend. He stood staring down at them for a few seconds before giving a small s
nort and turning his back to them.
Roach wasn't interested. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that, big guy?" she asked, louder than was strictly necessary. "You really should speak up, you know. If you want people to hear you properly, that is."
The giant growled, grabbed her wrist bindings and swung her roughly down to the chair. He looked next at Rend, who raised his hands in a disarming gesture and sat down himself. Seemingly satisfied, the giant turned toward the tables at the center of the room, only occasionally looking back to make sure the pair of them didn't cause trouble.
"Do you really need to poke everyone you meet in the eye?" Rend asked her.
"Only assholes," Roach answered. "Not my fault most people tend to be assholes," she added after a moment.
Rend laughed, which turned into a wincing cough. He quite obviously hadn't been well-treated in Roosevelt's labs, though you wouldn't guess so by his disposition.
"It just seems exhausting," he said. "Like it takes a lot of work."
Talking had begun from the center tables. The first voice Roach picked out immediately rekindled the fires of her anger: Roosevelt.
"Well, Ki," Roosevelt boomed, "before we get to whatever lies you plan on spewing, I'll just come out and say it: what the hell are these two thieves doing here?"
Roach located the Lawbringer at the far side of the four rectangular tables. He had his arm held out straight in front of himself, pointing with a full grasping hand at the Colony boy and the demon girl.
Maybe the toothy blowhard would kill the two of them and solve Roach's problem for her. Or would that be causing her a problem? The pair had saved her — from Roosevelt himself — though for what reason she was still unsure. They had chased her all the way here, after all, and Reapers weren't known for being warm and friendly. "Patience, Douglas," Madame Ki responded, her tone as calm and soothing as Roosevelt's was loud and aggressive. She nodded toward one of her giants and he unfolded a white screen on the wall behind Ki. Once it was extended, he set down a small electronic device on the table. It hummed to life and lit the screen with a sequence of images.