Clan and Conviction (Clan Beginnings) (43 page)

Wynhod turned his angry stare to the Imdiko.  “I am going to be fucking pissed off if we find out law enforcement, particularly our territory’s, has been bought off.” 

Gelan sighed and rubbed a palm over his cornrows.  “This chasing ghosts is getting us nowhere.”

Krijero tried to sound more optimistic than he felt.  “Not true.  Frenzy-related crimes have dropped off seventy percent since the territories have been alerted to the possibility that Benor is behind it.  It’s as if he’s laying low while the heat is on.”

“Well, that’s something at least.  By the way, we’ll probably be late coming in tonight.  You’d better take your own shuttle into work today.”

Krijero smiled sympathetically.  “Still staking out that suspected slavery ring?”

Wynhod grimaced.  “Unfortunately.  Don’t get into any strange shuttles, okay?  I don’t want to find out you were cleaning up after a Bi’is master and ended up dead for not running a floor sweeper according to ritual.” 

“That case really should be in Global Security’s hands.”

That earned him an ugly look from Gelan.  “Fuck them.  They get all the good investigations.”

Krijero finished off his breakfast.  Talking around a mouthful of onba he said, “I need to go to my apartment anyway.  I’ve been wearing the same three outfits for the last two weeks.”

Wynhod growled.  “Just pack your shit and move in already.  You haven’t slept there in months anyway.  This is getting ridiculous.”

“Don’t start on me.”

Gelan ended the disagreement before it could get going.  “Both of you, quit.  We need to get to work, Wynhod.”

The Nobek sighed.  “Yeah.  Another fun day of staring at people walking in and out of a supposedly closed club.”

They rose from the table and finished getting ready before leaving for work.  Krijero sat around until they left, simply to stay out of the grumpy pair’s way.  Ten minutes later, he left for precinct headquarters too. 

* * * *

As the end of the workday approached, Krijero poked his head into the investigations department, hoping Gelan and Wynhod had gotten done with work early.  Even from the doorway, he could see how tidy their desks were, as his never was.  He noted no sign the pair had been in the office at all that day.  They’d probably gone straight from their shared shuttle to a duty vehicle this morning.

A vaguely familiar voice got his attention.  “Can I help you – um – Dr. Krijero, right?”

The Imdiko turned his gaze to the broad-faced investigator sitting just inside the doorway.  He and his hook-nosed enforcer partner smiled at Krijero from their seats. 

He’d spoken to this pair before.  Searching his memory for their names, he smiled back at them.  Feeling foolish, he shrugged.  “I was just checking to see if Gelan and Wynhod got back in.”

The enforcer shook his head.  His lank hair hanging about his shoulders almost as untidily as Krijero’s tended to be.  The psych had the vague impression the man usually wore it pulled back. 

The man told him, “No, they’re still on that stakeout.” 

“Ruining your plans for the night?” the investigator asked.

Krijero suddenly remembered their names:  Dramok Dexel and Nobek Panow.  He thought Panow might have been unpleasant to him once, teasing a psych for wandering into the wrong department.  Well, the man was being nice enough now, so he’d be nice too.

“They said they’d probably be running late.  I figured I would be out of luck.  I might as well head home.  Thanks.”

“Yours or theirs?” Dexel asked, his slanted eyes watching Krijero closely.

The Imdiko was startled.  Was the man flirting with him?

Dexel chuckled.  “I know, it’s none of my business.  It just seems a shame that Dramok Gelan keeps stringing you along.  Don’t you think he’s overdue to clan you?”

Krijero blinked.  He edged back a step.  The investigator, a near stranger, was getting much too chummy for someone he barely knew.  “Um.  Well, we’re in no hurry.”

“Sure.  Have a good night, Doctor.”  Dexel turned back to his desk.  Panow was already back to work, speaking in a low voice on his com.

“You too.”  Completely mystified by the strange exchange and abrupt dismissal, Krijero left. 

* * * *

Krijero walked into his little-used apartment and noted it was dustier than ever.  Everything seemed to have a gray film on it, making his nose wrinkle in distaste.  He needed to get a cleaning service in here, especially since he wasn’t home enough to keep it up himself.  He really did live with Gelan and Wynhod for all intents and purposes.

He snorted at himself.  He was not going to think about that right now.

Krijero headed into the small sleeping room, dumped the clean clothes he’d brought back from Gelan and Wynhod’s home onto his sleeping mat, and rummaged in drawers and the closet for fresh clothing.  As usual, he pulled out only three changes of clothes.  He knew he was being superstitious, but he couldn’t help it.  Bringing his entire wardrobe over to Gelan and Wynhod’s home, as had been suggested this morning, begged for the worst to happen.  The Imdiko thought that cruel fate would leap on him the moment he started accepting the stability of his relationship and knock him back down.

His stomach rumbled as he brought a tote stuffed with his three outfits into the main room.  Krijero dropped the bag and automatically went into the tiny kitchen and opened the cooling unit.  Of course there was no food in it.  He was never home so he never ate here anymore.  Once more he was reminded that he lived like a clanned man.  He slammed the unit’s door.

Krijero was not the cook Gelan was.  Heck, even Wynhod, who could burn water, was better at serving a meal.  The Imdiko decided he would order something to be delivered as soon as he got to his lovers’ home.

“Better com Gelan and Wynhod to make sure they don’t pick something up on their way in,” he muttered to himself.

He went to his home com even though he kept his portable unit on a chain around his neck.  The chain, a pretty length of metal links that was much stronger than it looked, had been a present from Gelan.  He’d given it to Krijero after the Imdiko had dropped and broken his fifth com unit.  Usually, Gelan or Wynhod took the necklace off Krijero at the end of the day and put it back on him first thing in the morning.  Neither ever seemed to mind doing the little things that Krijero’s clumsiness made so difficult for him.  His being warmed to think of it.

Right now, the portable com unit hid beneath the high neck of his loosely-fitting shirt.  It was a welcome feeling against his skin.

Krijero hesitated for a moment.  Comming Gelan and Wynhod while they were on  a stakeout was against the precinct’s rules.  Hoping the pair would stop off at the office before they headed home, he decided that would be the best place to leave a message.

“Home com, connect Gelan’s office desk frequency.”

A moment later, the Dramok’s recorded voice filled the room.  “This is Investigator Gelan.  I am away from my desk at this time.  Please leave a detailed message as to why you are calling and I will get back to you as soon as possible.”

Krijero picked up his bag of clothes.  “Hey, it’s me.  I’m going to pick up your dinners, so don’t—” 

His door announce went off, breaking into his message.  Krijero turned and stared at the door in confusion.  No one visited him here anymore, not even his parent clan when they happened to be in the area.  They were well aware he spent most of his time at Gelan’s now.

Besides, he’d spoken to his mother only that morning from the office, and she’d been at home.  She hadn’t said a word about coming to the territory. 

“Who’s there?” he called.

No one answered.  Frowning, Krijero went over to the door.  “Hello?”  When he still got no reply, Krijero told the door, “Open.”

The door slid obediently wide, revealing Enforcer Nobek Panow standing there with Dramok Dexel right behind him.  Before Krijero could react, the Nobek swept in.  Krijero was already falling to the floor before he realized Panow had punched him in the face.

Krijero never had a chance to defend himself.  The Nobek jumped on him, pinning him to the floor while Dexel watched, guarding the now-closed door.  Fists descended over and over, pounding Krijero’s face and skull, sending stomach-wrenching agony through his head.  The Imdiko endured half a dozen blows before all went black and the pain mercifully vanished.

* * * *

Gelan and Wynhod stopped by the office to grab a few case files before going home for the night.  Gelan noted the message alert blinking on his com and scowled.  He was not in the mood at this late hour to deal with anything but dinner, a shower, and some sleep.

He told the mindless machine, “Whoever you are, leave me alone.”

Wynhod raised an eyebrow.  “You’re not going to check that?  It could be Krijero.”

Gelan considered.  Damn it, Wynhod was right.  Maybe the Imdiko had done them the kindness of ordering dinner.  He usually did when they had a late stakeout.  He told Wynhod, “Fine.  But if it’s Utta demanding another extra half-shift, I’m taking it out of your hide.”

Wynhod smirked.  “You can try.”

The Dramok narrowed his gaze threateningly before speaking to the com.  “Play message.”

Just as Wynhod had predicted, Krijero’s voice came from the device.  “Hey, it’s me.  I’m going to pick up your dinners, so don’t—” 

A door announce went off in the background.  It wasn’t the tone of Gelan’s, so the Imdiko had commed from his rarely-used apartment.

“Who’s there?”

When there was no answer, Wynhod snickered.  “Don’t forget to turn the com off before you answer that, Krijero.  If it’s another Nobek, I don’t want to know.”

The loud thud of Krijero’s uncertain tread told them the Imdiko had forgotten he was recording a message.  His slightly distant voice called, “Hello?”  Pause.  “Open.”

Gelan laughed.  “That’s my Imdiko.”

The pair’s grins faded at the next series of sounds.  Thuds, Krijero’s pained cries, and the unmistakable sound of fists hitting flesh.  Gelan’s heart seemed to jolt to a stop.

Wynhod’s fangs were out as he whipped about, apparently ready to race out of the precinct.  “We have to get to him!”

“Wait!”  The awful sounds of a beating had ended.  Gelan bent close to the com, listening for all he was worth.

A familiar voice spoke.  “Idiot.  You’re not supposed to kill him yet.  Benor wants to question him first.”

Another familiar voice.  “He’ll be fine.  Are you going to give him the sedative or bitch at me all night?”

“Make sure you check his pockets for a portable com and weapons.”

Shuffling noises.  Then Nobek Panow spoke again.  “He’s clean.  Let’s go.”

“Where’s that maintenance shaft?”

“Kitchen.  See the panel?”

“Got it.”

More sounds.  Then silence wound out, cold and deathly.

Around his descended fangs, Gelan growled, “You know who that was, right?”

“Dexel and Panow.  If they didn’t notice his portable com on that necklace, we can track him.  Gelan, we’ve got to move
now
.” 

Gelan shut off the sickeningly quiet message to hit his supervisor’s emergency frequency at home.  “You get the undercover guys on it now.  I’m calling Utta.”

“Gelan, what if Utta is a part of this?”

Gelan swallowed.  The precinct had been compromised, just as Krijero had feared.  Who knew how far up the chain of command Benor had bought?  But every second they wondered and worried was a second closer that Krijero could die.

He told his partner, “We don’t have time to second guess who’s been paid off.  We’ll have to drag everyone we need in and hope for the best.”

Wynhod nodded.  Without another word he darted to his desk and com.  Gelan had no idea who the Nobek spoke to because at that moment, Utta picked up his line. 

Chapter 13

The emergency meeting took place in Undercover Ops’ command center.  Every face in the room was grim.  Criminal Psychology might have been the butt of most departments’ jokes, but the men that worked there were still part of the precinct.  They were still family to the brotherhood of cops.  Gelan knew Krijero’s safe return was everyone’s priority.

Nost pointed out a level in the Prem Mountain Complex, the peak that made up the core of Benor Industries’ warehousing and shipping.  The section he indicated was about a quarter from the top of the mountain, and the area in question a shipping facility. 

The undercover head said, “Ops has confirmed a blanket security system protecting the entire complex where Dr. Krijero’s com is transmitting from.  We’re not getting in without letting them know we’re coming.”

Utta’s face was dark with fury.  He’d walked into headquarters cursing his head off and apologizing to Gelan and Wynhod over Krijero’s abduction, as if he himself was to blame.  In a way, he was.  Had he allowed Gelan to go after Benor early on, the Imdiko might not have been taken.

Utta had gotten some measure of control over himself during the meeting.  His voice still shook with rage as he asked, “Is there any indication Benor himself is there?”