The next night Bleak entered The Starscraper and as he made his way to the bar someone nudged him from behind, he didn’t see who. ‘Captain’s Folly’. Bleak didn’t break step. At the bar he found an empty stool and sat. He made a show of looking around as if searching for someone. When the barman caught his eye he waved him away, got up and left.
The Captain’s Folly was quiet compared to the Starscraper, more the choice for established, or would be couples, not interested in Metrakis’s more basic delights. However for Bleak it was the same routine as the night before. He was told to go to the toilet and then which table to head for when he emerged. The same two men were sitting sipping beers. Bleak sat and one of them pushed a bottle in his direction.
‘Not interrupting something am I?’ Bleak said making a show of looking around. ‘Two’s company and all that.’
‘Very funny,’ the man Bleak thought of as “man 1” said.
‘So?’ Bleak said.
‘So, we sit and make like were old friends having a quiet drink together.’
Bleak leaned back into the cushioned bench seating, stretching his legs out under the table. ‘And then what?’
‘We wait,’ man 2 said as a girl, one of the bar’s hostesses, approached the booth. She leaned down towards him and the man placed a familiar hand on her bottom. She covered his hand with hers and grinned at Bleak before whispering something into the man’s ear. As she straightened the man laughed and waved her away. With a shrug she smoothed the sheer material of her shorts and moved off in search of other clients. ‘Come, on,’ the man said to Bleak as he rose from the seat.
Outside they weaved their way through the crowds, the first man slightly ahead of the second man who stayed at Bleak’s side, with a hand under his elbow, as if guiding him. Their route seemed to be random, although Bleak guessed it was anything but.
‘Where’re we headed?’ Bleak asked. The only answer was the second man nudging him forward. At the next intersection of narrow alleys man 1 stopped and glanced down both side streets, the first sign of indecision Bleak had seen in pair of them.
He moved closer to Bleak. ‘They’re onto us.’
Bleak felt the second man’s grip loosen on his elbow. He twisted away as the blade of a laser knife passed through the fabric of his jacket. Only his enhanced reactions ensured that it grazed his stomach rather than penetrating deep into his chest. The man’s eyes widened in surprise and confusion as Bleak’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. As Bleak tightened his grip a hole the size of his fist blossomed in the man’s chest, spraying Bleak in blood and gore. A woman nearest to them screamed until a man grabbed her hand, almost wrenching her off her feet in his haste to get away. The arm Bleak was holding went limp and the body slumped to the ground. As Bleak turned, man 1 was also on the ground a similar hole decorating his chest and half his face missing. When Bleak looked up other men were already pushing people away, forming a cordon around the grizzly scene.
Bleak and one of what he presumed were the general’s men stood before General Niias who was sat at his ornate desk. Bleak brushed a hand at the dried blood on the front of his jacket, some of it flaked away and drifted to the floor. He was rewarded with a loud sniff of disgust from the general.
‘So Tomas?’ the General said.
‘We judged they were on to him, Sir. We didn’t want them to escape.’
Bleak shook his head and stabbed a finger in Tomas’s direction. ‘They weren’t on to me. You panicked, blew it.’
Tomas stiffened and glared at Bleak before turning back to the general. ‘They were about to kill him, Sir.’
‘Only after they’d spotted you and your men,’ Bleak said.
General Niias slapped both palms on the desk. ’Enough. At least we got those two.’
‘And the rest of the organisation can just carry on,’ Bleak said with a glance at Tomas.
‘I said, enough! Tomas you may go.’
Tomas saluted and left the room. The general watched the door close before he turned back to Bleak.
‘General, I…’ Bleak started to say before the general waved a dismissive hand.
‘It’s not important. The main objective of the exercise was to prove you were operational. Something else has come up that we can better use your…’ the general’s nose wrinkled, ‘your unique talents for.’