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

“I’m okay, I promise.”

Samantha wasn’t so easily reassured. “Are you? Really? Did they hurt you? I swear if they-”

“Most of them already are,” Jen said. “Dead I mean.”

Except for Esteban, Dan thought bitingly. I still have to remedy that.

“I’m fine,” Jen was saying. “Really.”

Samantha’s relief came with another torrent of tears, which required both Jen and Cookie to soothe. Dan and Simon just felt awkward, watching the reunion uncomfortably from the kitchen. But they stayed respectfully silent instead of whitewashing the moment with sarcastic or light-hearted remarks.

The headaches and nausea, Jen’s constant companions, were gone. Though she had the uneasy feeling another bout was near. She’d learned to recognise the preliminary signs and didn’t want to be standing when the next round struck. “I have to lie down.”

“Come on then.” Samantha began helping her to the bedroom. “You need rest.”

“Dan?” Jen turned back to him. “Can you come?”

He hid his surprise well. “Sure,” he said nonchalantly and followed her into the second bedroom where Samantha was helping her into bed.

“It’s the drugs, I’m going through withdrawals,” Jen explained.

“Drugs?” Samantha’s eyes popped wide. “Did they addict you to something?”

Jen shrugged. “I s’pose so.” It was a disturbing thought but it’d been fact for long enough that she no longer flinched. “They’re wearing off I think. They injected me twice. Once at the start and once last night, I think.” Time was a blur and she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t even know with any degree of certainty what day it was.

“Is there anything we can do?” Dan asked, as concerned as Samantha. “Do you want to go to hospital?”

She gently shook her head. “No, I’m on top of it. Give me another few hours and I’ll be fine.” I hope. That was what she’d been telling herself all along, so that’s what she’d come to believe.

Samantha reassuringly squeezed her hand. She knew when she wasn’t welcome. “I’ll leave you two alone then.” And she closed the door on her way out.

They remained silent for a long time, studying each other. Jen had wondered what she’d feel if she ever saw Dan again, knowing that he’d killed Adrian Miller. She wondered whether Dan knew Adrian was trying to help. But she surprised herself with her reaction. She didn’t care. It didn’t seem to matter a damn.

Dan read her thoughts, or part of them. “You’re thinking about what I did to Miller.”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I suppose I am.”

Dan nodded too, but mutely. He didn’t blame her for holding it against him.

“I wanted you to know that it doesn’t matter,” Jen said, trying to get the words out before the next wave of gut-wrenching nausea.

“It doesn’t?” Dan frowned, not sure he understood. “But I killed him and carved a… that doesn’t disturb you?”

“A little,” Jen admitted. “But I think I would’ve done the same if I were you.”

Dan absorbed the news. He wanted to reassure her too; he wanted to say that it didn’t matter to him if they’d raped her. Doesn’t matter? Dan began to frown. They’re not the right words. I mean, it doesn’t bother me… No, that’s wrong too. I mean, I should say: I think no less of you. Deep down he believed Esteban had raped her, but he couldn’t broach the subject with his mind so muddled; he didn’t want it to come out wrong. Maybe later.

“I just wanted you to know, that’s all,” she said as her limbs began to twist with pain.

“Thank you, Jen.” And he sat beside her throughout the tremors, offering comfort by talking about trivial things in a soothing voice until she fell asleep.

*

Sunday, September 19, 2066

16:55 Sydney, Australia

The Raven fumed. He was starting to wonder whether his spiritual protector deliberately intended to vex him before setting him loose. If that’s true, it’s working. He’d killed Dan a thousand times in his mind and imagined nuclear warheads detonating on the house. He was hungry and irritable, not the perfect frame of mind for carefully planned slaughter.

Hurry up, damn you.

*

Sunday, September 19, 2066

19:12 Sydney, Australia

Jen emerged to the sound of laughter and, for a moment, she wasn’t sure where she was. The ceiling was different. Then she remembered and it all came back in a rush that left her giddy with relief. The laughter was from Cookie; she recognised his voice now and smiled at his distinctive mid-breath rasp.

For the first time in days, she felt rested. And safe.

And hungry. It felt as though her stomach was a bottomless pit. She staggered out to the kitchen where the others were hunching around the table, an open box of cold pizza in the middle.

“Hey, Jen, how’re you feeling?” It was Dan and he gallantly helped her to a seat.

“Much better,” she said, looking hungrily at the pizza.

Samantha read her mind and nuked two slices in the microwave before setting the plate in front of her. “Here, you need to eat.”

Jen made short work of the first slice and vowed to eat the second more leisurely - but then quickly forgot. She spoke around a mouthful of pepperoni and ham. “So what’s happening?”

Nobody answered.

That means something bad. “What?” The half-eaten slice of pizza remained anxiously frozen in front of her mouth. She hated waiting for bad news.

“We’re waiting for three o’clock,” Dan said cryptically.

“In the morning?”

Dan nodded.

“What happens then?” Jen wanted to know, suspecting she wouldn’t like the answer.

Dan took a long, deep breath before saying, “None of us will be safe unless we finish this, and it won’t be over until we deal with UniForce.”

Jen had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Escaping the Guild had been the easy half of the equation - she still had to remove the threat of future kidnappings. And that meant neutralising Esteban and most of the UniForce management team. There were no other options. And fleeing? She scoffed. That was a temporary fix, which would ultimately lead to a fragmented patchwork of a life. Because once she began running, she knew she would never stop. Her life was in tatters and the only way to recover a semblance of order was to smash the instrument of doom itself.

“What’re you planning to do?” Jen asked. “You must have some idea.”

“We do.” Dan raised his palm to accolade Cookie. “Maestro here’s found enough dirt on UniForce management to put them all away for life.” Which wouldn’t be long - and an infestation of viruses wouldn’t kill them. The instant the other prisoners discovered who they were, inmates would take great pleasure in butchering them. “We can’t legally arrest them,” Dan admitted. That was the darker side of jurisdiction and international law raising its ugly head. “But we have enough for a convincing bluff.”

“A bluff?” Jen couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You’re joking!”

“No.” Dan wished he were. “We can’t arrest them. It’d take weeks to get authorisation for that. And if we tried, they’d pull strings to block it.” Dan shook his head. “All we have is bluff. But it’s a convincing one. You should see some of the stuff Cookie unearthed.”

“So… what exactly are you planning?” Jen repeated, trying to wrap her mind around Dan’s ludicrous suggestion. “March into UniForce headquarters, walk past security and blackmail our way to freedom?”

Dan shrugged. “UniForce security isn’t as good as you might think.”

Jen laughed and wiped a tear of mirth from her eye before saying, “They’ll know you’re bluffing. They know they can make us disappear.”

“I can be convincing,” Dan said almost inaudibly. “So can my Colt.”

So if bluff doesn’t work, you’ll threaten? Jen pinched the bridge of her nose, desperate to find another solution. “We can’t run, can we?”

“Where to?” Dan asked. “For how long do you think we’ll be safe? I can assure you Esteban won’t rest until we’re dead. And the Raven’s probably tracking us down now.” He had no idea how close he was to the truth. “Before, when you were just another target to apprehend, running was an option. But now? Well… now it’s different.”

Jen felt miserable. The hope for the future that she’d cultivated after escaping the Guild was faltering. She’d imagined a future that included both of them. Somewhere warm… by the beach. With a boat… It was a fabulous dream, but that’s all it was - a dream. The real future looked bleak. But Jen didn’t intend to pass on her one opportunity to turn her dream into reality. She gritted her teeth and said, “Then I’m coming.”

Dan glanced at Simon and saw they shared doubts. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea Jen.”

“Why?” She arched a regal eyebrow and brushed her hair behind her ears. “Because I’m a woman?”

“No.” Dan uncompromisingly shook his head. “Because you need to rest.”

“I’m fine.” It was true, she felt fine. The pizza was working wonders, fuelling her rapid recovery. Besides, there were seven and a half hours to rest. “I’m coming,” she repeated with conviction, glowering at them each in turn and daring them to demur.

Dan opened his mouth as if to speak but remained silent when he saw her determination. It wasn’t just in her eyes, it radiated from her whole body. So nobody objected. They whittled the hours away with light conversation, which periodically returned to what they’d do with their lives after settling the score with UniForce - the corporation charged, ironically, with making the planet a safer place for all.

*

Sunday, September 19, 2066

UniForce Headquarters

08:45 San Francisco, USA

Esteban sat heavily. He stroked his stubble with one hand and gripped his pistol with the other. He was too angry to express the feeling properly. The thought of shooting James in the back of the head had occurred to him, but that wouldn’t accomplish anything. Wouldn’t it? Maybe it’d make me feel better. The frustration crawled under his skin like a nest of maggots, sending him insane.

One bullet had grazed his upper thigh, singing his skin. The burn painfully chafed against his ruined trousers when he walked. But the bullet that’d smashed through the periphery of his chest had caused much worse damage. It’d agonisingly shattered two ribs and the doctor had removed the fibrous bones, saying there was nothing left to repair. He’d said Esteban was lucky the fragments hadn’t punctured his lung and had done no major damage. But Esteban saw things differently. Lucky? What a crock of shit. If he’d been lucky, he wouldn’t have been standing anywhere near the hailstorm of bullets that bitch had fired. The only thing bringing a smile to his lips was the knowledge that he’d killed her.

“So, how’s it going?” Esteban sounded pasty due to a haze of painkillers.

James hadn’t heard him enter and the unexpected question startled him. He spun to see Esteban sitting in the spare chair, a thick bandage strapped around his chest and a torn, bloodied shirt covering little of the gore. “Jesus, what happened to you?”

Esteban grunted dopily. “Apparently I was lucky.”

“By the looks of that you were,” James said, sharing the doctor’s philosophy.

Why doesn’t anyone understand? Esteban wondered whether he was the only UniForce employee with genuine intelligence. “I wasn’t lucky. I got fucking shot.”

James hadn’t encountered the product of violence so closely before and he stared with open mouth at the wound. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Esteban replied. The drugs were too effective for that. “I feel wonderful.”

“Did it hurt when you got shot?”

What a stupid question. “What the fuck do you think?” Esteban pointed at James’s computer with his gun. “What’s up with the Raven?”

“Glad you asked,” James said. “I’ve found him, and he’s