She raised an eyebrow in challenge.
Bobcat smiled. “Go for it, young padawan.”
Marcus stuck his head around the door. “Oh, I got to hear this.”
William stepped around Marcus. “Go Tina, go Tina, go!”
“You got this!” Marcus encouraged her.
“No less than twenty,” Bobcat warned.
Tina’s eyes narrowed.
“And no help.” He touched the side of his head. “That’s cheating.”
“Hmphh, wouldn’t have done that. I know the rules,” she answered, and jerked a thumb behind her.
“Ok, give it your best shot,” Bobcat encouraged.
“What’re the stakes?” she asked.
“First brew choice to the winner.”
“Ok, I can live with that,” she said, then sucked in a deep breath and started spitting out her best, “Aggressive cuddling, bam-bam in the ham, balling, bandicooting, four-legged foxtrot, jerking it while she’s twerking it, nailing, naffling, nobbling, plooking, plonking, pole-varnishing, shampooing the wookie—”
Marcus turned his head to William. “Oh, that’s a good one.” William nodded in agreement.
“Sinking the pink, tube-snake boogie—”
“A little ZZTop,” William commented. “I play that all the time.”
Bobcat had already lifted through ten fingers, closed both hands again, and now had one fist of fingers open, indicating Tina had five more to go.
“Mingling limbs, humping,” her eyes narrowed when he didn’t give her credit for that offering, “gland-to-gland combat, going balls deep with one’s Twinkie in the bearded clam.”
Bobcat gave her two fingers’ worth of credit as she squeaked out the last one, her voice about spent. “Tromboning!”
Bobcat looked at William and Marcus, a question on his face. “No cheating, Marcus!” he called. “I’m waffling on tromboning. That’s a very common—”
“Nope.” William shook his head as Marcus looked back at him. “Not for someone her age, so it counts.”
Marcus turned back to Bobcat and pointed at William. “What he said.”
“Yeah,” Bobcat scratched his chin, “good point.” He turned and kissed Yelena one last time before stepping toward the ship. “C’mon, rookie.” Bobcat passed her on the stairs. “You get first beer choice at our new research digs.”
Waving to Yelena, Tina turned and boarded the Pod. She was moving toward her destiny as the newest member of Team BMW.
Ahz Sector, Deep Space, Gerrand’s Asteroid, Krollin’s Restaurant
Kraaz walked into the restaurant after pausing in the reception area to allow his eyes to adjust. He saw that four other tables were occupied, and raised an eyebrow when he noticed a lone Shrillexian in a booth at the opposite end of the restaurant from his leader and the Leath he was meeting.
He would keep an eye on that one. He didn’t have any obvious scars on his face or arms, so he was probably untrained in real combat. Maybe he’d talk to him after the leader’s conversation.
He finished his sweep and clicked the transmitter attached to his belt. A moment later the leader of their mercenary company strode in, and Kraaz preceded him to the meeting.
P’kert, a Tulet, was stationed behind them and would cover any attacks from the rear. Once they arrived at the table, Kraaz stepped aside and allowed the leader to take over. Their leader, another Tulet named Bocklans, ran Darkness for Hire. It wasn’t a very good company name, Kraaz thought, but they had a reputation both for being successful and taking high-risk assignments.
And since they had been contacted for this gig, it was pretty much guaranteed to be dangerous.
Bocklans pulled his hand away from his belt when the Leath kept both hands on the table. Since they had called the meeting he didn’t expect a double-cross, but one needed to be careful. Darkness for Hire hadn’t taken any assignments against the Leath so far as he knew. Hell, practically no one had taken any action against the Leath.
They just weren’t around much.
It was only since the news about the war between the Etheric Empire and the Leath got out that the Leath started sending more groups out to the core systems.
And the rumor was, most of the contacts had twice as many meetings with those on the dark side as with the official political representatives.
Interesting times indeed.
The Leath opened his tusked mouth. “Greetings, Leader Bocklans.” He turned and got the attention of a waiter. “Drink?”
“Of course, provided you are paying.” Bocklans chuckled. “This is a more expensive restaurant than I normally frequent, you understand.”
The waiter came over and took their orders. “Of course,” the Leath agreed, “but I understand this location prides itself on keeping private conversations private.”
Bocklans made a motion with his arm. “Perhaps,” he answered. “But I wouldn’t trust it too much unless I had support.”
“And do you?” The Leath asked.
“A moment,” Bocklans answered and turned his head. “Kraaz?” The Shrillexian looked at his boss. “Give me a distorter.”
Kraaz reached into a pouch attached to his belt and handed a small electronic device to Bocklans.
“Appreciated,” he replied, and placed the unit in the middle of the table. “This will distort our communication outside the table area. Are we in agreement? Can I turn it on?”
After receiving permission, Bocklans turned the device on.
Bocklans called again, “Kraaz?”
The Shrillexian didn’t turn back to the table.
Bocklans smiled. “I believe we can speak now.”
“My name is irrelevant, but my rank is high in our intelligence branch. I have been sent on a…purchasing and talent-acquisition mission. What assurance can you provide that our request will be kept confidential?”
“I would be surprised if you haven’t researched Darkness for Hire, and not in a good way,” Bocklans replied.
“I have, but I am asking for additional assurance so that I understand your methods. It is hard to fathom how you keep secrets.” There was a pause. “Given your organization…type.”
“What you mean is, as a group for hire which you do not respect.” Bocklans put up a hand. “I don’t care about your opinion of us. In our long history, we have had to kill only two leaders who leaked information that we as a group felt was detrimental to our company. You need to understand, this isn’t my mercenary group. I’ve been elected leader, and I could be fired or quit. If I were fired I wouldn’t know, since I’d be dead. If I were to quit, I would have to undergo the surgical insertion of a device which monitors if I am revealing company secrets.”
“Why would you do this to yourself?” the Leath asked.
“Why do we do anything? For the challenge, of course. Many of us don’t expect to live to old age. Only two of our leaders have retired. One committed suicide in a bar brawl he started with some thugs from a mercenary group he hated. The other lived another twenty turns in his own solar system. The rest of us die on assignment.”
“Why do you take assignments?”
“We have a system. For each job we accept, we throw the dice during the operational planning meeting. If the dice come up red, the leader must be a part of the forward deployment during the planned op; that way all operations have the chance of being headed by the leader. If we make bad calls on jobs, eventually we get killed.”
“It seems,” the Leath scratched the base of one of his tusks inside his mouth, “that stupidity would get one killed eventually anyway.”
“It does, but leaders don’t necessarily survive even good planning.”
“Is this how it works for all mercenary companies?”
“Some, but not all,” Bocklans admitted. “Others have various methods. Some mercenary companies are truly businesses with owners. We happen to function as more of a cooperative model.”
There was a pause before the Leath asked, “Why choose that mode
l?”
“Income,” Bocklans answered. “No sharing with upper management.”
After this pronouncement, they waited in silence until the drinks had been delivered and the server left.
“Is there anything you would not do in relation to the Etheric Empire?” the Leath asked.
“Straight to the point. That is nice in a business relationship,” Bocklans answered. “We will not attack their asteroid base or do any jobs inside it. Also, nothing on Yoll. Missions on other planets in the Empire will be determined by the job and the location.”
“We are going to be suggesting that the Noel-ni planet Sertjal host a peace accord meeting for fifty of our people and fifty of theirs. During this meeting, we wish for it to be attacked, killing everyone at the event.”
“Including the Leath participants?” Bocklans asked in surprise.
“Yes.” He shrugged. “They will be killed for the greater benefit of the Leath race. They will not know this, of course.” He picked up his drink and took a sip.
“Weapons?”
“We request minimum armament,” the Leath said, putting down his glass. “Nothing heavy. Besides, the location is actually a floating hotel.”
“I’m familiar with those,” Bocklans answered. “If an attack destroyed the engines, the whole thing would come crashing down.” He nodded. “Elegant.”
“Unfortunately, the attack has to take place after those who are attending the meeting go through a rigorous search, so unless you can hide something in advance, you will have to make it happen with whatever you are allowed to bring in after the event is underway.”
Bocklans took a sip of his drink, thinking. “How are we going to gain access to the hotel?”
“There will be over a thousand people in its buildings at the time of the planned meeting, plus I’m sure there will be reporters. Figure it out.”
The Tulet pursed his lips. “Won’t the Empress just bolt? I would imagine her ships would just come down and get her.”
“We will succeed. And we plan on spinning the news our way, since we are getting killed in the public relations arena.” Bocklans raised his eyebrows. “Don’t be so surprised that we are aware of what is said in the news,” the Leath told him. “Where do you think all the negative reports about her being a monster originated?”
Bocklans smiled. “That’s…good to know,” he admitted. “I was wondering how you were going to use the fact that your own people were going to perish.”
“Easy,” the Leath answered. “The Etheric Empire was willing to kill their own people to take out the highest-level officer in the Leath military.”
Bocklans shuddered at the cold manner in which this Leath—who had yet to give him a name—had just told him they were going to kill their highest-ranking military officer.
Prime Intelligence Two clasped his hood to his face and exited the restaurant. He had walked down the sidewalk for only fifty paces before an enclosed four-person hovercar whisked up. He opened the door to the back seat and slid in.
Once inside, he found Second Line Prime Commander Tehrle on the seat next to him. “How did your meeting go?”
Prime Intelligence Two took off his hood and turned to his old friend. “Well enough. Mercenaries honor themselves and their reputations. They have taken the job.” The car was speeding toward the spaceport. “Yours?”
Tehrle turned to look out the window. “The gods willed that they should also accept the job.”
“Assassins to clean up any loose ends,” Two mused. “Now we just have to implement the plan.” He noticed his friend’s jaw clenching. “First Line Prime Commander Ch’lockteck is either going to be removed from the military with all honors erased, or he will die valiantly for his people. Which end to his career do you believe he would rather have?”
Tehrle made a fist, then opened it, spreading his fingers out. “Ch’lockteck would rather go down fighting. At least this way he will have a chance to redeem his continued mistakes with the gods.”
“And,” Two answered, directing his gaze toward the front of the car, “so he shall.”
14
Kraaz watched the Leath slip out of the booth and nod in his direction before heading out of the restaurant. He turned to Bocklans. “Job?”
“Yes,” the leader answered, “but it isn’t going to be easy.” He thought about it. “We need to hire outside help; high-quality, low-risk grunt killers.”
“Cannon fodder?” Kraaz asked. “Anything I should know?”
Bocklans shook his head. “They just need to know which way to point their weapons and who’s on our side.”
“Typical member-initiation job.” Kraaz answered. “How many spots?”
Bocklans considered his answer. The Darkness for Hire mercenary group had over three hundred members at present, and at best he would need forty down-and-dirty and a hellacious number of killers. He knew enough about both sides to believe it wouldn’t go down very easily, even if none of the peacekeeping team had decent weapons to return fire.
Plus, he needed a group to go after the engines.
“Call it twenty for our engineering demolition team, with a special pickup plan, and another hundred shooters,” Bocklans answered.
Kraaz eyed Bocklans. “Special pickup plan?”
Bocklans turned and smiled at the large Shrillexian. “Yes. They need to exit the floating hotel, fall a significant distance, and successfully not go splat on the ground. We will be there to pick them up.”
“Oh.” Kraaz thought about it. “Wing suits?”
“Huh.” Bocklans pondered the option. “That’s damned smart.” He slid out of the booth. “Got any ideas for new recruits?”
Kraaz nodded to the far booth, and Bocklans noted the other Shrillexian. “Fine with me. Catch up.”
Bocklans met up with P’kert and both Tulets exited the restaurant as Kraaz walked over to the other occupant. He was fully aware the other Shrillexian knew he was there, but he knocked on the tabletop to officially get his attention.
Kraaz greeted him while at the same time elevating his opinion. This one’s eyes and simple movements didn’t speak of lack of practice. “May I sit?”
“Sure.” The seated Shrillexian nodded to the other side of the booth. “North Continent?”
“Yes,” Kraaz admitted. “Terrel mountains.”
“Went by there once; a small village, good swimming.”
“Probably Chr’stylx, maybe two hundred inhabitants,” Kraaz sat down, “if you count the farm animals.”
“Good enough.” The other chuckled.
“My name is Kraaz, and I’m wondering if you are serving or committed?”
The Shrillexian nodded. “Name’s Shi-tan, and committed.”
Kraaz tried to remember where he‘d heard that name. “Mercenary or commercial?”
“Commercial,” Shi-tan told him. “New group.”
“You seem out of practice,” Kraaz remarked, but Shi-tan shut him down by laughing.
“Not hardly. In fact, I’m in more practice than I’ve been in years.” He pointed to his face. “If you are asking about the lack of scars, my company has a really good medical plan.”
“All right.” Kraaz reached into a belt pouch. “I’ve got a few cards. If you meet someone who wants to join a mercenary group, we are initiating.”
Shi-tan nodded his understanding. It was going to be a rough job, but if you made it you were in the company. He grabbed the cards Kraaz held out. “Timeframe?”
Kraaz thought about that. “Two weeks max to call me. The rest will probably be travel time and practice. They need their own equipment; we don’t want complete newbies.”
Shi-tan nodded. “Understood.”
Kraaz slid out of the booth. “Practice?”
Shi-tan looked up from his seat with a small smile playing on his lips. “You sure you’ve got time to heal before your job?”
Kraaz smirked. He liked this Shrillexian. “You and what posse?”
“Oh, jus
t me.” He reached into his belt, grabbed some local currency, counted out enough for the meal plus a tip, and then added some more on top. “I’ll pay for your food.” He called the waiter over. “Kraaz here is going to be back to pick up a meal to help his stomach settle in about five minutes. I’m leaving enough here to cover it plus a tip, got me?”
The waiter turned to Kraaz. “Sir?”
“Oh, what the hell.” Kraaz grunted. “It’ll be my celebratory ass-kicking sandwich.”
Shi-tan stood up, and up, and up. Kraaz hadn’t realized the Shrillexian was as tall as he was, but he didn’t seem to be as well-muscled.
The two exited the restaurant and turned right. “About a block away,” Shi-tan commented, “there is a field and some fencing that hides most of it.”
“Worried about someone seeing you getting pounded down?” Kraaz needled. Shi-tan remained quiet.
The two made it down the block to the field, then each turned sideways to slide between chunks of the fence, Shi-tan going first.
On the other side, both took off their belts and pouches. Shi-tan twisted his neck, popping his vertebrae.
“Get ready for a proper Darkness-for-Hire ass-kicking,” Kraaz said. He ran at Shi-tan, thinking to catch him off-guard.
On Shrillex, so long as both fighters had dropped their belts, it was officially permitted to attack. Normally that wasn’t what happened, but Kraaz had been out in the field too long to worry about what was normal versus what was prudent.
What was prudent was getting in the first—
The sledgehammer that punched him in the gut came out of nowhere, and sent him stumbling backward five steps before he lost his footing and fell. He allowed the momentum to throw him into a somersault and got back up, his hands ready to punch. And was surprised.
Shi-tan had barely stepped forward and was moving his fists in patterns he hadn’t seen before.
“The problem,” Shi-tan told him, “is that we Shrillexians are often too obvious in our need to fight.”
“Yessss.” Kraaz exhaled the word, allowing his healing to catch up with his breath. “I’d say I appreciate the chance to catch my breath, but I think I need to punch you so you don’t talk me into suicide.”
Kurtherian Gambit Boxed Set Three: Books 15-21, Never Submit, Never Surrender, Forever Defend, Might Makes Right, Ahead Full, Capture Death, Life Goes On (Kurtherian Gambit Boxed Sets Book 3) Page 83