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

intentions.

He nodded and gnawed off another chunk of the soggy croissant. “Yeah.”

“What about Claire?” Junior asked. “Are you going to keep two? Do I detect a ménage à trois in the air?”

Esteban cast him another warning glance. “No. I’ll take care of my loose ends.”

“Oh man, what a waste,” Junior moaned, correctly interpreting what Esteban meant. “I’ll take her if you don’t want her.”

“No.” Esteban was adamant. “Nobody gets her, she’s mine. If you so much as squeeze her breasts I’ll make sure you permanently lose your sex drive, okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s time I retired Claire.”

Junior sat, careful not to move his head. He’d lapsed into sullen silence.

“And Jennifer’s going to take her place?” Adrian asked dolefully.

“Yep.” Esteban was still chewing and another fleck of food made the journey from his masticating mouth to the bar. “But she likes to be called ‘Jen’.”

“Well, whatever she wants you to call her, she doesn’t strike me as the sort of person who’ll sit idly by while you use her as a pincushion.” Adrian nudged his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. “I think we should stick to the original plan: wait for Dan, let him watch, we all get some fun.” Esteban wasn’t the only one attracted to Jen. But Adrian had secretly been attracted to her on a deeper level than the others. He didn’t want to see her raped, disfigured and killed. He couldn’t understand the change in himself and he was too lazy to analyse it, but given his way, he’d set Jen free. How his security slotted into that daydream he had no idea. But he didn’t want to see any more women murdered. He’d seen enough bloodshed to fill two lifetimes. Getting Esteban to wait for Dan was the only way he could save Claire from immediate termination. But that put Jen in peril. How long she’d live would depend on how good Dan was at tracking. It was a pickle of a situation and he hadn’t properly thought his way through it. And Adrian simply wasn’t a fast enough thinker to hatch a solution on the spot.

Esteban’s temper was starting to flare. “How many times do I have to say it before it gets through?”

“Okay, okay.” Adrian held up his hands submissively. “Just thought you might like another opinion.”

“Well I’ve heard it.” Esteban stuffed the last croissant into his mouth and left the room. He didn’t notice the look Adrian and Junior shared. It knelled of a time when they might have to turn against their protector. Not now. Not anytime soon. Definitely not until they were thoroughly established in the Guild, but at some point, they might have to bite back.

Esteban meandered toward Claire’s room. She looked almost peaceful, lying on her bed. She was still wearing her white halter and he ogled her breasts, paying particular attention to her tense nipples, which he could see through the thin material. Good girl. He felt nothing akin to affection for her. She was his slave, and he treated her accordingly. Blood rushed to his groin when he thought of his new slave. She’ll be good… she just doesn’t know it yet. He pensively pursed his lips. I just need to break her. He acknowledged that Adrian and Junior had a point, but he wasn’t accustomed to listening to their advice and he never let logic interrupt his fantasies.

Then his attention snapped back to the present, to Claire’s room. She wasn’t the one he wanted, not anymore. Okay, let’s get this over with. It wasn’t something he would enjoy; it was a chore. He couldn’t have loose ends - Guild rules.

Still, it is a pity… she was good while she lasted.

She woke when he inserted the needle into her calf and flinched as he pumped the toxin into her system. It acted slowly compared with the Raven’s nanotoxin, but it was just as deadly. As far as Esteban was concerned, the main deficiency with the Raven’s formula was the mess, so he used a toxin that wouldn’t rot Claire’s flesh to a pile of puss.

“What’s that?” she asked woozily.

“Something to help you sleep,” he replied, his voice silky. A minuscule part of him vibrated in tune with humanity and he didn’t want to sound gruff as she died.

But for all her faults, Claire wasn’t stupid. She understood the true meaning behind his innocent-sounding words. “You’re finally releasing me?”

She had the most unusual smile on her lips, though Esteban couldn’t fathom the meaning behind it. It put him on edge. “Yes.”

“No kiss goodbye?” Her eyes danced with mirth. “No ‘thanks for your services’?”

Esteban scowled. She’s delusional. The drugs are acting faster than I thought. He attributed it to her poor physical constitution.

“You know… there’s something I’ve wanted… to say to you… for a long time.” Claire was struggling to breathe, gasping and she snatched air with an exaggerated snapping of her mouth.

“What’s that?” He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“You’re a… moron.” She chocked on a laugh before convulsing once and lying limp.

Esteban stood back, not enjoying being alone with a victim’s ghost. He consoled himself with the thought that she would’ve died long ago if he’d sent her to prison - a cesspool of disease and gang rape. Inmates could expect to live for mere months. Governments around the world had slashed their penal budgets and penal clinics were the first things to suffer. Often inmates had to share medication, which meant prisons tended to brew super-strains of the world’s deadliest viruses and bacteria. Half an antibiotic course only weakened the microbes and upon recovering from the shock, they returned stronger than before. The World Health Organisation had been lobbying governments to address the problem for decades, but it was already too late. The diseases had spread to the wider community and modern treatment methodology had aggressively evolved to cope with the influx of medication-resistant strains. Some social scientists pointed accusing fingers at Xantex for charging extortionary prices for their drugs. Others blamed governments for ignoring the plethora of warnings.

He checked to see whether Claire had lapsed into a coma, but she wasn’t drawing breath. She was better off here anyway. It seemed a strange justification when looking at her corpse, but in Esteban’s mind, he was within his rights for taking her life. He’d extended it, so it was his to extinguish.

Now, for Dan… He’d launched a program to monitor Dan’s progress through the portals and, the last time he’d checked, Dan was still in Australia. Slow Dan, slow. I’d expected better from you. Esteban intended to be ready when he finally arrived. And then you’ll see who the master is.

*

Saturday, September 18, 2066

22:43 Sydney, Australia

“What’s so important?”

Cookie stood and granted him access to the screen. “Take a look for yourself.”

Dan crouched and wearily began reading the records Cookie had left open. Fatigue was gnawing at his patience and the pressure of finding Jen wasn’t easing with the passage of time. He didn’t want to read the entire record; he wanted a summary. But he played the game anyway.

His attitude changed somewhere in the second paragraph and by the fourth his attention was inextricably bound to the television set. No. Disbelief flooded his mind. It soaked him like petrol so that when he sparked with anger a moment later he exploded into an inferno of rage. He spoke through clenched teeth. “And all this time I thought it was random.”

“You didn’t have reason to believe it went this deep. None of us did.” Simon was standing by, feeling uneasy. He wasn’t sure how his friend would react, whether he’d start smashing government property or collapse on the spot. Nor was he sure how to act himself. Sorrow? Anger? Pity? He was wondering how best to offer comfort, but comfort was impossible for a man who’d just discovered someone had paid a million Credits to have his wife murdered.

Dan’s eyes glazed, focussing on a point a million miles away, on something only he could see.

Samantha and Cookie were leaning on each other in the far corner, intensely uncomfortable.

Now what? Dan mercilessly chewed his lower lip, ignoring the sting and taste of blood that followed. Does it change anything? Sometimes he hated the truth. Yes. Things would’ve been easier if he’d never known, but sheltering from the cruelty in the world wouldn’t give him peace. No, he was glad that he knew. He was glad to see the face that had orchestrated his misery from the shadows.

“So Esteban was just following orders.” Simon didn’t know what else to say.

Dan nodded. “It looks like that.” He stabbed Cookie with a pleading look. “Are you sure this is valid?”

“I dunno man. Someone could’ve forged it, but I couldn’t imagine why. UniForce believed their network was impenetrable, so why plant misleading information in their own database? Those records were restricted, not everyone in the company had access to them.”

The ex-bounty-hunter nodded at the logic. “I can see why.” There was enough damning evidence in those few records to send powerful people to gaol.

“What’re you going to do?” Simon asked nervously.

Dan muffled a snort of amusement. “I’ve been asking myself that question.” Everyone felt wretched during the long pause that followed. But Dan shattered the deafening lapse in conversation by saying, “One thing at a time. Jen’s probably not interested in why they killed Katherine.”

The record that had sparked his despondency was a contract between UniForce and PortaNet. The ‘total transportation solution’ company had requested Dan’s termination, but UniForce had declined. It was bad for business to assassinate cops. UniForce had a delicate relationship with law enforcement communities, why upset the balance for a few million Credits? They had an industry to protect. No, the police were strictly off limits. UniForce lined the pockets of several police commissioners to keep the baying cops away. If they assassinated a detective, nothing would stop the police from tearing UniForce asunder. So a spokesperson for PortaNet had met with a dedicated team of ‘solutions experts’ from UniForce, Esteban included. It’d been a productive meeting, apparently. Another record in the database provided a full transcript of the discussion, which boiled Dan’s blood.

PortaNet had a problem. Dan was pursuing a case that had the potential to embarrass the company and they wanted his energies diverted. By that time, Dan had a well-earned reputation for dogged pursuit of suspects, regardless of their political protection. Together, UniForce and PortaNet had concocted a scheme to kill Dan’s wife, thereby distracting him. The contract was signed. Money was transferred. And the deed was done. Esteban had personally volunteered for the project and he’d delighted in slaughtering Dan’s wife. So, with the target brutally murdered and Dan declared psychologically unfit for duty, PortaNet transferred the remainder of the fee and was forever in wedlock with the seedier side of big business. The records didn’t depict precisely why PortaNet was so nervous, it was UniForce’s policy not to ask.

“He wasn’t just following orders,” Dan said bitterly. “He sat on the panel that proposed killing her.”

“But PortaNet paid him to do it,” Simon countered.

“I know, but I can only slay one monster at a time.” Dan wished he were big enough to crush Esteban in the palm of his hand.

“So you’re going to fight this battle too?” Simon looked sad. He knew his friend would dash himself against forces many times more powerful than he could deal with. And it would lead only to one thing, his grave.

“Up until my last breath,” Dan promised, though the threat sounded hollow. He’d been skirting a fine edge for too long and felt as if he was finally slipping over. The only thing he could see