Regrette laughed.
“It’d make a great film, Koey, but I don’t believe in a secret organisation ruling the Universe.”
“Why’d you think the Desards are joining up with Gothra, moving in on the Shen Mi?” he asked crossly.
Regrette looked past him to Tsyrker and he could see she was taking it seriously. He raised an eyebrow that said ‘seriously?’, but she just looked away. Ooh, interesting, this was real deep, dark corner of the Universe stuff.
“There’s something bigger going on behind all of this. Even I’m in the dark, and happy to be,” Koey said. “But if you wanted my guess at the prize? I’d say we sitting on it.”
CHAPTER 36
Gothra sat behind a desk that was bigger than some people’s homes. Her Father had always talked about having things at your fingertips and she had taken that literally. She used computers, but she preferred to have everything printed out, have it all physical, at her fingertips, as she sorted it all out. And there was a lot to sort. She had operations all over the Universe, she didn’t know anyone else who had the length and breadth of her organisation. At least at her level. Those operations that were bigger than her had multiple people running them, but she had all of her businesses at her fingertips.
Take this Maggie Desard, who she had just finished talking to over the secure line. She sat on her high horse and she talked as if she knew, but she didn’t. She’d never gotten her hands dirty, she’d never dealt with the gritty day-to-day of running a criminal enterprise. She just swanned around giving orders and expecting others to carry them out.
Well. Perhaps not for much longer. The problem with those at the highest level was that they never thought they could be toppled. They acted like they were different from everyone else; infallible, untouchable demi-gods. But they weren’t. They forgot that they took that position from someone else. She knew the Desards were using her and her organisation to try and compete with the Shen Mi and she had agreed because she really thought they could. The Desards were known for their ruthlessness and their calculating. They didn’t do anything unless they knew they could; they didn’t overstretch themselves, didn’t reach higher than they knew they could. They were taking on the Shen Mi now because they knew they were in a position to do so, but… But. She had a few ideas of her own and she also thought that she was in a position to move up in the world. Or more importantly, the Underworld.
“Madam,” a Byfrok waved a piece of paper from the door. “I think you should see this.”
“Bring it over.”
He walked to her desk and laid it in front of her. You never passed anything to Gothra. She picked it up and read it.
“You did well. I want every available human to the spa and send a team in. Use Grantok, he’ll get there quickest.”
“What of the Desards? Shouldn’t we inform them of a change to the plan?”
“I’m not changing the plan,” she said curtly. “I’m just adding to it. They need know nothing of this.”
“Yes, madam,” he slunk back through the door.
***
Kaskey had played his game once more. He could see now why Grant had been keen to recruit him. He was useful, if he did say so himself. Koleermeer had arrived at the spa alone and had looked nervous. Kaskey thought that he might not to others, but he was used to reading people’s emotions. The constant flick of the eyes was one thing. Surely he knew that Squavoon was here, but was he expecting to actually meet him? The fact that he hadn’t bolted suggested that he didn’t, merely knew that there was someone there watching over him. That’s what Regrette had said. Hitmen didn’t go in for jobs where people knew who you were, especially since Squavoon had revealed that he was there to assassinate Koleermeer if he actually tried to defect or got captured.
Kaskey had planned on playing the friendly businessman, but on seeing just how jumpy Koleermeer was he decided to take another route.
“Gimme one of those White Russians,” Kaskey said jovially as he sat down at the bar.
Koleermeer sat next to him, using the mirror behind the bottles to scan the room.
“Man, why don’t they have these out in space, huh?” he said to Koleermeer.
You could sense Koleermeer’s apprehension, the fear of someone being there to whack him. He was playing a dangerous game and he knew it. Probably didn’t have a choice in the matter.
“Hm,” he said and tried a smile before going back to looking at the mirror.
The drink arrived and Kaskey took a long draught.
“So what brings you here?” Kaskey asked happily. “Business or pleasure?”
“What?” Koleermeer looked at him sharply and Kaskey could read his desire to move away. “Look. No. Sorry, I don’t want to talk.”
Kaskey leaned in slightly and Koleermeer leaned away.
“Cool it, man. You’re covered.”
“What?”
“You don’t need to watch the mirror, man,” Kaskey said conspiratorially. “We got you covered.”
“We?”
“Well I ain’t walking the streets of Earth, am I?”
“No. No, I suppose not.”
“But I got my best man on it and I’ll be here, so chill.”
“Right,” Koleermeer nodded, more to himself than Kaskey.
“You knew we wouldn’t leave you hanging. Every eventuality is planned for, man,” he took a quick look around the bar. “Here take this.”
He put a small device on the bar.
“What is it?”
“Put it away,” Kaskey hissed.
Koleermeer scrambled to put the small device in his pocket.
“It’s a tracker. It’ll help us know exactly where you are.”
“You know where I’m going,” Koleermeer protested.
“Every eventuality,” Kaskey said seriously. “Keep it on you at all times. You won’t see me again, but I’ll be watching you, man. Good luck.”
With that he got up and left the bar. Not long after, he left the spa and Earth.
***
“Dead?” Tsyrker asked pacing Grant’s room at the spa.
“Very,” Kaskey replied over the radio.
“Drey?” Grant asked from a chair.
“Yeah,” Kaskey said sadly.
“Signs of torture?” Tsyrker asked.
“I dunno, man. I don’t wanna look too close.”
“Look.”
“For what?”
“Missing fingers, multiple wounds in non-fatal places,” Regrette said with glee.
“Ahh, man,” the radio went silent. “Yeah, alright. I think so.”
“Don’t think, know,” Tsyrker commanded.
“Yeah, missing fingers. I think there’s a tongue on the floor. I gotta get out of here.”
“Yes. Go. Get back to Hendricks,” Grant said. “Gulch will be there shortly. Out.”
“I will?” Gulch asked.
“Yes.”
“You need me here,” Gulch protested.
“You’re a sitting duck here in the spa,” Grant countered.
“I always said you were a liability,” Regrette tsked.
“Can it,” Gulch fired back.
“Oooh,” Regrette put his hands to his cheeks.
“But Grant’s right,” Tsyrker said. “We have to assume they know we’re here. Have to assume we’re linked to Haffir.”
“What about new arrivals?” Grant asked.
Gulch tapped on his computer.
“OK. A number, but yes, here. A group of six came together on a private. Forged documents. Pretty good too, enough for most to not notice. Look here, Stephen.”
Gulch moved the computer and Regrette got up to look.
“Oh my, oh my, is that Grantok? I wondered where he’d gone.”
“Let me see,” Tsyrker walked over.
In fact they all huddled around to see the faces from the ID documents that had been lodged with the spa.
“Hm. I questioned him once on a case. Low level back then,”
Grant said.
“Still low level,” Tsyrker said.
“We don’t all breath your rarefied air,” Regrette said.
“One exhale from you and it would no longer be rarefied,” she replied.
“OK, you two,” Grant admonished. “We’ve got to get Gulch to the ship.”
“Fear not, O Brave Captain, I shall make sure he escapes,” Regrette said straightening. “Come, Gulch, let us be away.”
“Does anyone else worry about his mental health?” Gulch asked closing his computer and sliding off of the chair.
Grant and Tsyrker raised their hands.
“Mssh. I worry about you,” Regrette said and walked to the door.
For all of the banter, Gulch felt completely safe. Regrette knew what he was doing, had possibly the sharpest mind of all of them. Though he wouldn’t say that in front of Rainsford.
Regrette and Gulch moved down the corridor.
“Come, my be-tentacled ward, we must move swiftly,” Regrette said and scooped Gulch up under one arm.
He strode down the corridors and they got a fair distance before coming across a Tarancort.
“Shabbus,” it swore and fumbled for it’s gun.
Regrette flipped back his coat, pulled his pistol and shot the man in one fluid movement. Right between the eyes. Gulch didn’t see the next gunman, but Regrette kicked sideways, breaking open a door and stepped in just as a hail of laser came their way. He stood patiently until the firing stopped and then calmly stepped back out and shot the Human as he was reloading.
Gulch had never really been out with Regrette, certainly not when Regrette was working alone and it was quite an eye-opener. He was completely calm and seemed oblivious to Gulch’s presence and was he? Was he humming to himself? Gulch thought it was Carlmody’s Battle Hymn.
Regrette ducked and swivelled as another blast came and shot the offender as he rose back to striding along. They were nearing the corridor that led to the port now and seemed to have left the attackers behind, though they were undoubtedly forming up throughout the spa.
It seemed, Gulch thought, that they had caught them just seconds unaware, just before they launched their attack. Koleermeer would be out in the streets now and that would have been their number one goal. To stop us reaching Koleermeer and ruining the plan.
They strode into the hanger (Regrette humming Salanche’s number one pop hit, ‘Cosmic hero’) but there was no one around. Kaskey had taken a commercial vehicle up and so Regrette headed to the Lark that was parked next to his own Wraith.
“Get to Kaskey,” Regrette said putting him down.
“I know the plan.”
“Of course,” Regrette said looking through the door they had come.
“Stephen?”
He focussed on Gulch properly for the first time.
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
Gulch watched Regrette’s face go through the gamut of which emotion and thusly which reply, he should give. Finally he shrugged.
“In our line of work, everyone needs a Gulch,” he said.
“Well. Be careful,” Gulch smiled.
Regrette shrugged again.
“From the shadows he appears,” Regrette decried and, after chucking Gulch on the shoulder, disappeared back out of the hanger.
It was, Gulch considered as he took off, the catchphrase from an old TV show. About a mercenary for hire who each week helped a poor and defenceless person against the evils of the Universe. It said a lot about Stephen Regrette, possibly the greatest hitman in the Universe, and Gulch smiled to think that they were friends.
***
Regrette got back to the room to find Grant and Tsyrker pulling dead bodies into the room.
“Mssh, just four? And, y’know, I wouldn’t bother trying to hide them. Won’t matter.”
“We need to move,” Tsyrker said.
“We do. We can’t let this catch up with Koleermeer,” Grant said.
“You don’t think it is?”
“No,” Grant said. “I think this is just us. They wouldn’t want to mess up their set up.”
“Then they’re on to us,” Regrette said.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Tsyrker replied.
“I could be a captain, couldn’t I?” he grinned at the ceiling.
“Let’s move,” Grant said.
The walked out of the room and, looking down the corridor Grant could see a trail of bodies along Regrette’s path.
“What?” Regrette asked. “They started it.”
“We’ll never get invited back.”
“Mssh. I’ve been to better spas on Blordat Minor.”
“Hhh, you’re not allowed on Blordat Minor either,” Tsyrker said as they headed to the exit.
“Hmm, same reason too,” Regrette mused.
“Uh, uh, uh,” Grantok said stepping in front of them. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“I would have to disagree with that,” Grant said as more of Grantok’s men stepped in front and behind them.
“Ooh, you don’t want him disagreeing with you,” Regrette said.
“You’re not in a position to disagree,” Grantok smiled.
Grant looked over his shoulder.
“I really think we are,” he said.
“You’re not,” Grantok burst angrily.
“We are,” Tsyrker assured him. “We are.”
“It’s nine against three,” Grantok said as if explaining Maths to a child.
“Are you not wondering where the rest of them are?” Regrette asked with a smile.
“We’re wasting time,” Grant said with annoyance.
“Right, right,” Regrette sighed. “Bet I can get more than you.”
“You wish,” Tsyrker replied.
“Get on with it,” Grant said tiredly.
Tsyrker and Regrette both turned sideways as they pulled their guns. They brought their arms up to the shoulders, gun in each hand, and pulled the triggers.
As the smoke cleared they both stood like that, arms outstretched.
“So?” Regrette asked.
“What?” Grant asked.
“Who won?” Regrette exasperated.
“Oh, right. Er, it was a draw…?”
“That’s what you always say!”
“Who the shabbus are you people?” Grantok exclaimed and Tsyrker shot him.
“There. I win.”
“No fair,” Regrette complained. “I thought we were leaving him to be questioned.”
“Yeah, so did I,” Grant said.
“Well, not anymore.”
Grant sighed and shook his head.
“Come on.”
“She’s very competitive,” Regrette whispered to him.
CHAPTER 37
“It’s more than a problem, Doc. People died,” Kaskey accused as he paced the tent.
“Forgive me. The ways of war are still ingrained in me.”
“What does that even mean?” Kaskey turned on him.
“That in such situations one thinks of how to achieve the goal and ignore the loss of life. Why? Because the goal still needs to be achieved and to think of the loss is to break down completely.”
Kaskey stopped pacing and looked at him.
“I don’t like it,” he said.
“And well you shouldn’t,” Hendricks said from his seat.
“But I see your point.”
“I am sad that you have to.”
They were in Rorckshift’s tent on the Dead Planet.
“He’s right,” Rorckshift said. “You have a mission you still have to complete. Those that died believed in it, you have to honour that and continue.”
“And what did you do before you dug up old junk?” Kaskey asked him.
“Kas,” Gulch said quietly.
Kaskey blew air out of his mouth and deflated.
“Sorry.”
“It’s alright, old bean,” Hendricks said. “Nasty business. Not something anyone should have to see.”
“No,” Kaskey said and leant against a tent post.
It had been horrific, like nothing he had ever seen. Once again he wondered about working with Grant, even hanging out with him. But no, leaving would just mean he didn’t see any of this, not that it didn’t happen. People like Grant existed because of this, because some people were just bad. Though he didn’t want to see it, wanted to pretend it didn’t happen, the fact was that it did and he had been given the opportunity to do something about that.
“Alright, OK. But this still puts us in a tough situation. We needed their number.”
“I’ll help,” Hendricks said.
“You have important work to do here,” Gulch protested.
“He has,” Hendricks nodded to Rorckshift. “My important work has been buried in the sand for centuries, it can wait a little longer.”
“We could perhaps help,” Rorckshift mused rubbing his chiselled, stubbly jawline.
“Yeah?” Kaskey asked.
“Special Forces,” he replied. “And then some during the Laikan War.”
Kaskey looked at him. It fitted. Though he’d never thought Archaeology would be so populated with ex-military.
“You said ‘we’,” Gulch said.
“As you well know Archaeologists are some of the best fighters in the Universe.”
“With no reason to risk their lives to help us,” Kaskey said.
“Some would,” Rorckshift shrugged. “Digging can get dull.”
“Surely not with this find,” Gulch said.
“Which needs moving,” Rorckshift said.
“Aha,” Kaskey aha’d.
“You help us, we’ll help you.”
“How?” Gulch asked.
“This is a dangerous business, as I’m sure you can understand, Gulch,” Hendricks said. “A find of utmost importance.”
“People with deep, no, endless, pockets keep an ear out for things like this,” Rorckshift said. “They would make one of my team rich beyond their wildest dreams for this information and never notice the money gone.”
“You don’t trust your own team?” Kaskey asked.
“I wouldn’t blame them,” he answered.
“You’re a hard man, Rorckshift,” Kaskey shook his head with a smile.
“I’m a realist.”
“And you trust us?” Gulch said.
“The Doc does and I trust him.”
“We’re still digging, but we need to get what we have away and safe. Just in case,” the Doc explained.
“If anything were to happen we’d still have that to study,” Rorckshift agreed.