Superego (20 page)

She glanced at the pants folded up next to her. “Yes, to prove a point. I knew there would be some trust issues going into this job, considering our history.”

“You knew I'd check the rooftops.” She'd given me what I was expecting in order to make me drop my guard. A good strategy, and she had me dead to rights because of it. It was a little bit scary, and I wasn't going to underestimate her again, despite how asinine all of this seemed.

“You're a big, scary guy, and I just wanted to ensure there was no further unnecessary violence. And now I've had you at my mercy—pantsless even—and I did nothing to harm you.” She stood up and handed me my pants. “So obviously you can trust me.”

I put my pants back on and then my shoes. “So should I just start asking questions, or are you going to explain what's going on?”

She smiled. She got the eyes right with her smiles, but something still seemed fake about them. “Sure, let's get down to it. Yes, I've always been working with the Nystrom syndicate. Our unfortunate run-in all those years ago was just the right hand not knowing what the left was doing.” She pointed to my right hand and chuckled. “No pun intended. Anyway, this happens with big organizations. I'm in charge of the operation here, though, and I'll try to keep it orderly.”

I fixed my clothes. They'd been ruffled a bit from all the unconsciousness and being dragged to the brothel. “If those two women I killed the other day were with you, then you failed at that.”

Her smiled faded. “Yes, I guess I did. I trained them myself, and they were good people—as good as trained killers can be. Plus, good female assassins are not easy to come by. They're sort of my specialty. I train them for kills that are, let's say, more subtle than you're probably used to. It's hard to find women worth training, though—and then I get people like Donner forced on me. Anyway, I'm rambling. It was my fault with Harper and Atkins, and I'm trying not to blame you. It's a little hard, because…well, why don't I just put this out there: I didn't want you on this. I had this whole operation planned out myself, using just my people—and I have those plans still in place if for some reason you don't work out—but orders came from the executives on exactly how they wanted this to go down, and those specific details necessitated including you.”

“So is that why you tried to get me blown up by terrorists?” I tried to casually get a look at her. She had a nice body—had probably paid good money for it—but my interest was more in whether she had a gun on her, and where. If this went poorly, turning her own gun on her was my best bet, as experience said I was no match for her physically.

She giggled. At times, she seemed too young to be a convincing federal agent, but the eyes—alert, taking in my every move…anticipating….She was quite experienced at combat and necessarily older than she looked. “Sorry to leave you in the dark, but the plans have worked out much better that way.”

“You planned for me to pretend to be a police officer and help stop the terrorists?”

“Yes.”

“A heads-up would have been nice.”

“It's much more convincing that you were surprised by a terrorist attack if you were actually surprised. If you knew we were manipulating the Calabrai into attacking, your behavior would have been different.”

“And you knew my reaction to being caught in an attack would be to pretend to be a police officer?”

“This probably doesn't come up too often, since you never have the same target twice, but you're sort of predictable. That's how I got you today. It's nothing for you to be concerned about, though, unless people know you're coming.”

Unless I was trying to kill
her
, I believed she meant. Helpful criticism noted.

“I kept an eye on you, and I was ready to help you out when you needed it, but you and that Detective Thompson did a pretty good job hunting down the Calabrai on your own. I guess we had been tailing you harmlessly for so long that my people got a little cocky.”

If she'd had others following me before that I hadn't noticed, that felt like another failure. “And why would you have people tail me?”

“You understand the interests of all the syndicates here, correct? Don't think they haven't noticed you. I've needed my people to run interference at times to keep suspicion off of you.”

“Again, a heads-up would have been nice.”

“Well, here you go now,” she said with a beatific smile.

“Whatever our endgame is, this sounds like an idiotic plan so far.”

She moved closer to me. I wasn't sure if she was trying to intimidate me, but she was doing it. I'm pretty sure I didn't show it. “You're a very skilled person—probably the most skilled for the limited area of wetwork the syndicate sometimes needs done,” she said in a calm, measured manner. “But you're just a blunt instrument, and blunt instruments don't get involved in the planning. So you're going to do what I need you to do, and I don't care what your opinion is.”

It was true I was a blunt instrument, but I never quite got why those who planned the actions always felt so superior to those of us who actually carried them out. “So I don't get to fill out an evaluation form for you after this is over?”

She smiled slightly. “You're cute. I read the files on you, and I wouldn't have guessed you have a sense of humor.”

Files?

“I know your thing. A cold detachment from your actions, but I can sense a joy in your work. So—out of curiosity—did you enjoy killing my two people the other day? Was that entertaining for you?”

She had quickly gone from intimidating me to getting on my nerves. “Does that have anything to do with anything?”

She continued to hover right next to me, though she kept her expression neutral. “You don't want to answer the question?”

No, this wasn't the sort of thing I just chatted about with anyone. “I didn't enjoy it. It was messy.”

“Really?” She looked quite fascinated. “Isn't killing always messy?”

“I like the hunting, the outsmarting, the outshooting—that's fun. That's skill. Killing is always a bit messy; never really liked it. With your girls, I was surprised, which pretty much made just a big, ugly struggle.”

“Not to get all feminist on you, but don't call them ‘girls.'”

She was successfully damaging my patience. “Corpses.”

She chuckled. “There's that wit again. I think you look at killing all wrong, though.” Her hand was on my neck before I could react. I pulled at it, but her arm felt like a steel bar. She definitely had enhancements, and I don't just mean to her chest (though that, too, probably). “You see, it's the inelegance of death that makes it beautiful.” Her face didn't look girlish at all anymore; it was the direct, emotionless face most animals get when preparing for a kill. “It's brutal and dirty, and that in itself is something to enjoy. I love to kill someone slowly—to watch as a person finally reaches the realization that
this is it
. This is the end. It's a tender moment to share with someone.” She released my neck and took a step back. “That's a little sick, isn't it?”

I massaged my throat; she had squeezed hard enough for discomfort but not damage. She was quicker and stronger than me. I didn't know why she thought it was so important to demonstrate that to me. “A normal human isn't supposed to be able to dispassionately kill other humans or anything else he or she has anthropomorphized.”

She laughed. “That's cute, you've thought about things like that. This is fun. I'm glad after everything we're finally getting to talk like this. Anyway, I don't get to kill much anymore. I'm management now, so it's best to delegate that sort of thing. Still, I make sure to enjoy it when the opportunity arises. Don't you think it's important to get some level of enjoyment out of your work?”

I was pretty sure she was now trying to irritate me. “Ma'am, can we—”

“If you're going to use something formal, I prefer ‘Mistress.'”

“Crazy bitch, can we just get to the point? What am I doing on this planet?”

She scowled melodramatically. “Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to waste your time. I didn't realize you had all these important things to do. I thought since we had to work together, we could just chat a little and get to know each other. Is that so horrible?”

“It's looking that way.”

She walked close to me, pressing against me, and whispered in my ear. “Rico, I'm in charge, and we do what I want. If I want to chat your ear off, we do that. I can certainly do much more unpleasant things to you…or much nicer things.” She took a step back and giggled. “I'm just kidding about that last part. I wouldn't have sexual relations with someone I'm working with. That would be wildly unprofessional. Plus, too much risk that I'd injure you before the job was done.”

“Are we through the chatting portion yet?”

“You seem to have a problem with me. Is it that you've never worked for a woman before? Are you some sort of misogynist?”

“I'm becoming one.”

She reached over and gently fixed my tie. “I'm trying to help you, Rico. I'm sorry you don't like my style, but you're a little too focused. Sometimes it's these other details outside the job that are the important ones. Do you understand?”

I didn't know if that was bluster or if she was actually trying to tell me something. “Not…really.”

She patted me on the cheek. “And that's why—despite your great skill—I'm the one in charge. You want to talk business now?”

“Very much so.”

“Well, I just have to say, good job hunting down those terrorists. You were almost too good, though, and were about to leave yourself out of the credit with that anonymous tip stunt. That's why we got that one group to attack the school while you were nearby.”

“And you don't think that's a little too coincidental?”

“It would be if they had attacked the park where you were. Nearby just seems like bad luck. And that incident, added to the other terrorists you brought down, means you're now an undeniable hero. Which puts you where we need you.”

“To do what?”

She shrugged. “You don't actually need to know yet.”

I tried a friendly smile. “But I think it would be very nice if you told me.”

She laughed. “Okay. You're going to kill President Gredler.”

A heavily guarded politician—now that was a worthy challenge. “That does sort of sound like something I would need to know, considering that I'm seeing him tomorrow.”

“You're not killing him tomorrow, silly. We don't care enough about Senator Gredler to kill him, but President Gredler is a different story. Tomorrow, you and your detective chick are going to meet Gredler, and
be gracious
—nicer than you've been to me. Then he'll have you two as his honored guests at the Galactic Alliance conference. There, after they vote to make him President—head of the entire Alliance in its fancy new power structure—you will stand up from your seat in the front row, pull out the guns my people will supply you with, and just totally shoot the crap out of Gredler.”

It occurred to me that Diane would most likely be sitting next to me when I did this, which was a really pointless thing to focus on. “The place will be swarming with armed security.”

Her face brightened up. “Exactly! It's a suicide mission. But that's what the executives want: They want the head of the brand new Galactic Alliance killed in very public fashion. That's why we let it leak that we're planning to kill him—we want everyone's eyes on this. But there is only one person Nystrom knows who could pull that off—or agree to try to pull off such a stunt. And I'm sure as hell not talking about me.”

I thought about it, visualizing. I'd be in the middle of a large auditorium containing the most important politicians in the Alliance and all their personal security, plus the additional security added for the conference—beefed up already because of terrorist activity.

But as soon as I started shooting, there would be chaos. And chaos is cover. It was possible. “I assume you'll be of help on the escape plan.”

She smiled. “Anyone else would have balked at this—and rightfully so. But they knew you'd be all over it. Yes, you get out of the auditorium, and I'll be able to cause some distractions to get you out of the building—I have a number of my people in the capitol's security. We'll also be able to get your ship past air security. I'll blow my cover getting you out, but it won't matter then.” She was quiet for a moment. “I'll have to figure out what to do with Verg during all of this; he's a nice guy, so I was hoping not to kill him. He's not part of all this, by the way, so don't go chatting him up about killing Gredler, because that would probably upset him.”

If I were to trust Morrigan's plan, it looked like it was possible to survive this job. “So this is why I'm here. To make an intergalactic incident?”

She sat down, her expression serious. “Nystrom already did that on Zaldia.” She paused, no longer looking at me. “They have these pictures going around of dead people—dead kids, even. I know that probably means nothing to you, but that's the sort of thing that horrifies people and gets them screaming for blood—our blood. Can't really blame them; I don't even know what the hell we need that planet for. We actually had some people betray us over this—not over money, but their consciences. And we don't work with people who have very developed consciences—you being the uber-example.” She paused again. “Maybe you're right about me being messed up in the head, with how I like killing people. I might need to get out of this business soon—for my mental health.” She looked at me. “But there I go talking about me again. So to answer your question, your role is to show the Alliance that we don't fear them.”