Freedom Incorporated - Peter Tylee (best biographies to read TXT) 📗

assassinations.”

“Look, I’m only going to say this once more. If you use the word ‘assassination’ again during this conversation, you’ll lose a finger. I’m only giving you another warning because you’re so obviously stupid. What happened to my wife was not assassination - it was rape and murder. Esteban and two of his cronies tortured her for hours before finally ending it.” His lower lip quivered and he barred the emotion before it could swell to the surface. Now’s not the time. But Michele hadn’t noticed; she was too busy watching the knife dance in front of her eyes.

“Now…” Dan had decided to believe her, so she’d live another day if she cooperated. “Why was she a target?”

Michele shrugged as innocently as she could. “I assumed it was to get back at you for ruining his life. He always says how much he loved being an assassin and you were the one that took that from him. He’s still pissed.”

It wasn’t the truth, but Michele believed it so Dan couldn’t fault her for lying. I was so naïve and stupid. If he could undo one thing in his life, it would be his pursuit of Esteban. No good had come of it. Why didn’t I listen? Katherine, Slime and my Superintendent all warned me to drop the case. Why am I so stubborn? Now Jen’s paying for it too. “Tell me everything you know about Jen’s apprehension.”

Michele didn’t hesitate; she was already committed to spewing her guts. “Jackie ordered all of you dead when we found out you’d used the Raven to kill Mr Savage.”

So that was my fault too. “He’s dead then?”

She nodded. “Why did you do that anyway?”

“It was an accident,” he said, willing himself to believe it. “The Raven wasn’t supposed to actually do it.”

“Well he did.” Michele looked at him dispassionately. “And Jackie wants him dead too.”

“Who’s Jackie?” Dan frowned at the name; she’d mentioned it twice. She must be important.

“Our CEO.”

“There’s already a new one?” Dan had the mental image of a hydra - cut off one head and the beast grows two more.

But Michele shook her head, her hair spilling in front of her eyes. She briefly removed a hand from the table to brush it away. “No, Mr Savage was only the public CEO, Jackie’s the one that really runs things.”

Clever. He was starting to piece together what was happening and it didn’t bode well for Jen’s safety. Esteban will have his revenge. He grimaced at the logical conclusion. And it will only stop when he’s dead. “Tell me everything you know about Esteban’s friends.”

Michele shrugged. “I don’t know very much. Sometimes he talks about them after we’ve… uh…” She had the grace to flush bright red. “You know… made love.” She squirmed in her seat, even more uncomfortable when she saw Dan staring at her unemotionally. She wondered whether he’d kill her anyway. It was a sobering thought. “Anyway, I know they went to college together, but I don’t know which one.” She looked at the ceiling, pouting with the effort of remembering the snippets of information she hadn’t considered importance at the time. “He has lots of friends, but he only talks about two of them as if they’re close. They do favours for each other and hang out after work. Sometimes he phones them when he’s going to be late for poker. I think one works for Global Integrated Systems and the other one for PortaNet.” Her pout deepened while she dredged her memory for anything to add, preferably something useful to appease the man holding the knife. She knew he was capable of killing her; she’d read his file, all of it. And he terrified her. “One has a name like Henry, but different, Andrew maybe? The other he just calls Junior.”

Dan etched every detail in his mind for later analysis. But a vibration at his hip was an unwelcome distraction and he held up a finger, indicating Michele should pause while he attended to his pager. He had an unlisted number and he’d only distributed it to a few key people, so he couldn’t imagine it was spam. Simon? He wondered what was so important. He pressed the acknowledge button and it stopped vibrating. “Go on.”

“I was finished,” Michele replied. “That’s all I know.”

“Okay… you don’t know where Esteban is, but do you know how to contact him?”

She thought about that for a moment. “His mobile number?”

“Perfect.”

She scratched a few numbers onto a scrap of paper and slid it across the desk, her fingers brushing the slit Dan’s knife had gouged in the surface. “It’s a free-talk phone.” Which meant Echelon would not sift through Esteban’s conversations.

“I figured as much,” Dan said bitterly. He remembered their conversation in Australia - nobody in their right mind would say such things for Echelon to hear. “If you’re dicking with me and this isn’t his phone, I’ll hunt you down and peel you like an orange.”

She paled. “That’s it, I swear.”

Dan stuffed the paper into his coat. “Now, where’s his office?”

“Upstairs.”

“Let’s go.” Dan stood, indicating with his knife that she should follow. “If you make any sudden moves I’ll skewer you, understood?”

She nodded, fear stinging her eyes. “Yes.”

“No portals either. I want to walk.” He nudged her into motion and followed her through the bowels of the building. She took one wrong turn, explaining that she’d never walked that way before. Dan wasn’t making things easier by insisting they skirt the security cameras, which were watching from blackened bubbles in the ceiling. But after a quick prompt with the knife, she regained her sense of direction and led him directly to Esteban’s door.

Dan listened for signs of life before carefully opening it, ready for anything. Esteban’s office was more elegant than Michele’s. He’d opted for expensive, leather-upholstered couches and he’d obviously petitioned hard to get a stunning array of art hung on his walls.

Dan spent 20 minutes exploring every nook and cranny in the office while Michele watched from the couch. He regarded her suspiciously while he worked, wondering what he should do with her. Part of him wanted to kill her for her involvement, no matter how limited it had been. Another part was sickened by the thought. I can’t do it. He couldn’t fool himself into believing her death was justified, he wasn’t delusional. She was supremely irritating and possessed below average intelligence, but she hadn’t broken the law or done anything to warrant death. At one point he was seeking an excuse to justify slaying her, but deep down he knew there would be no possible redemption for his soul if he did something despicable like that.

The search turned up nothing useful and he felt as if he’d wasted his time. He straightened his aching back and groaned, “Michele…”

She raised her head to look at him.

“I’m not going to kill you.” He could see the relief in her posture. “But if you’re still here tomorrow I’ll assume you’re suicidal but too cowardly to kill yourself and I’ll relieve you of the burden.” He pierced her with a threatening stare. “You work for bad people here, I suggest you withdraw the millions you’ve hoarded and nick off. Fair enough?”

She nodded. What else could she do?

“Good.” He slipped from the room without further comment, leaving Michele to ponder just how close he’d come to gutting her.

*

“What’s so important?”

“Cookie found something you’re going to be interested in.”

A solidified lump of chewing gum stuck to the side of the videophone had Dan thoroughly transfixed. He was only paying for an audio signal, the bandwidth required for videophone calls made them more expensive than they were worth.

“All right, I’m coming back.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“No.” Dan fumed in frustration. “Not yet.”

*

Dan coughed the tickle from his lungs.

A trickle of sweat was sliding down his back and he wondered why the Australian terminals didn’t adhere to the worldwide air-conditioning standard. He’d barely adjusted to the morning chill in America when he’d portaled back to Australia and begun sweltering inside his thick coat.

At least it wasn’t busy anymore. A few stragglers and night workers scuttled past but there were no more queues. Dan obediently let Chuck scan his weapons. The weapon list before and after international travel had to match or customs began asking pertinent questions, and Dan knew his identity wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny.

“That’s three bottles of scotch now Mr Kennedy.”

Dan mocked a salute. “Yes sir.”

*

Saturday, September 18, 2066

08:42 Baltimore, USA

Esteban felt groggy; it hadn’t been a restful night. I have to get more sleep. He was beginning to look forward to the end of the business with Dan so he could finally get some decent rest. Falling asleep after the incident with Jen had been difficult. Junior was yet to rise, which wasn’t surprising considering his nasty wound. She’d certainly done some damage, which was part of the reason Esteban found her so appealing.

Adrian was in his usual seat, rereading an article in Fortune magazine he’d only had the opportunity to skim before. “You look awful.”

Esteban grimaced. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

“Did you get any sleep?” He adjusted his glasses and rested the magazine on his lap. He was experienced enough to realise he’d get nothing else read while Esteban was in the room.

“Not much, no.” He was hungry and the only food within striking distance was a stale box of croissants in the bar fridge. Better than nothing.

“Oh God, you’re not actually going to eat those are you?” A sour expression crossed Adrian’s face. “You know how old they are, don’t you?”

Esteban shrugged. “They look okay.” He tore away a mouldy corner and tossed it in the bin. Moisture had made the pastry soggy due to the exorbitant amount of time the croissants had spent in the fridge, but Esteban was too hungry to worry about that. It was food, and food was good.

Junior ambled into the room, a fresh bandage wrapped around his neck. The way he walked clearly illustrated his discomfort; he moved stiffly, a cross between Gumby and Frankenstein. If he twisted his head even slightly, the torsional strain on his wound made him dizzy with pain. Junior hated pain. The others could tell.

“What the fuck are you looking at?”

Esteban hid a smirk behind a chunk of croissant and spoke around his mouthful, sending a spray of milky yellow saliva over the bar. “Nothin’ man, how’re you doin’?”

“Don’t even think about asking.” A black scowl crossed his face like a thundercloud. “It hurts like hell.”

“You’ll get over it.” Esteban swallowed, which Adrian was pleased to note, and continued, “Dan’s on his way, I’m sure of it. He’ll probably find me today.”

“And then we get to kill the bitch?” Junior was furious with her and delighted in visions of her torture. He’d fantasised about nothing else while the doctors had stitched the gaping hole in his neck. The promise of the sadistic pleasure to come was the only thought keeping him from creeping into Jen’s room and mutilating her now.

“No,” Esteban said, earning himself a frown of disapproval. “I’ve changed my mind. I want to keep her.”

“What?”

“That’s a bad idea,” Adrian warned. “She’ll only cause problems.”

“Not for long,” Esteban assured them. “And until then, I’ll take responsibility for whatever she does.”

“So I have to punch you for last night?” Junior growled angrily.

Esteban wasn’t amused. “You can try, if you feel game.” It was a mock challenge and nobody expected anything to come of it, but nor did Junior appreciate Esteban’s insinuations.

“Do you mean you want her as a prostitute?” Adrian asked, trying to clarify Esteban’s