The Phoenix Crisis (34 page)

“
Raidan and Tristan have
taken it. I’m not sure where.”

“
Did they take it from you
by force?” asked Summers.

“
Not as such…” Vargas
stammered.

“
Then why is it no longer in
your possession?” She gave him a scrutinizing look.

“
The werewolf… he made it
clear the ship was his. I… didn’t want to challenge him. Those red
eyes… I’m sorry, sir. I know my orders and I did not obey them. I
accept the consequences.”

Summers nodded. Fortunately no lasting
damage had been done. Calvin had ordered Vargas to retain
possession of the Arcane Storm to use it as leverage to ensure the
Nighthawk was resupplied and repaired. So long as the Harbinger and
the supply ships were willing to provide those services—as
planned—there wouldn’t be a problem. But Summers did make a note in
her mind that Vargas was lacking spine and not entirely
dependable.

“
Was there anything else,
sir?” he asked. “I have other matters to attend to.”

“
You are not free to go
until I tell you,” said Summers. “Now stand up
straight.”

He straightened his posture and looked
spooked by the bark in her voice.

“
Did Raidan communicate his
intentions to you?” she asked. She recalled what Calvin had
discussed with her—about how Raidan had wanted to see Calvin
urgently and claimed to have news he only dared share in person.
Summers’ hope was that Raidan had shared that information with
Vargas who’d met with him in Calvin’s place.

“
No, sir.”

“
Did Raidan give you a
message? Or tell you something? Or share any information at all?
Anything whatsoever, Lieutenant?”

Vargas shook his head. “No, sir. I spoke
with him briefly and he didn’t tell me anything important. Nor did
he share any intelligence with any of my crew or anyone who came
with me, except possibly the werewolf. But he didn’t come back with
us.”

At least that was some good news, Summers
had never liked or trusted Tristan. He always seemed so smooth and
condescending, like he was playing a game with them all. Not having
him around was one less thing to worry about. But Summers was
disappointed—though unsurprised—that Raidan had decided not to
share his supposedly valuable information with the likes of Vargas
and Calvin’s lower officers. She wondered if she might be able to
get it out of him if she met with him in person once they stopped
for repairs. She loathed the idea of seeing him, or being near him,
but she also knew her duty to the Empire.

“
One last question, Mister
Vargas,” said Summers. “How is Lieutenant Winters?” Summers knew
that Calvin had sent the helmsman away on the Arcane Storm as a
chance to recover emotionally from the shock of what’d happened to
Iwate Shen back on Remus Nine. Summers needed Sarah back at work as
soon as possible, but also didn’t want to trust the stick to
someone who was an emotional wreck.

“
Sarah is doing all right,”
said Vargas. “She’s been quiet, not very talkative, but she’s done
her duty like all the rest. I think she has some stuff on her mind
but she didn’t let it affect her judgment. Sure as anything, she’s
still the best pilot on the ship.”

Summers nodded and dismissed him.

***

“
That makes twelve of them,”
said Calvin. He stared down at the list of people he’d ordered
placed into protective custody for interrogation, and crossed off
another name. “
Santiago
Florres
, cause of death?”

“
Santiago was killed by
gunshot wounds. Forty caliber. Two in the chest, one in the head.
Not a pretty sight,” Nia said over the terminal—she was one of his
lead investigators.

“
Our assassins are getting
less subtle,” said Calvin. The first murders they found had been
creatively done and had been made to look like suicides—like what’d
happened to Michael Evans—but the most recent half-dozen had been
brutal and swift. Stranglings, bludgeonings, gunshot wounds… very
violent.

“
And the victim was killed
before our people moved into position?” asked Calvin, certain it
would be the same story as the other murders.

“
Yes, sir,” said Nia.
“Mister Florres was found dead in his car.”

“
Did the neighbors see or
hear anything?”

“
No, sir. The assailant used
a silenced firearm and Mister Florres’ garage door was closed to
mask the report. No one knew anything was wrong until our people
were on the scene.”

“
Time of death?” asked
Calvin.

“
Approximately twelve
hundred hours Local Time, about an hour before our people
arrived.”

Same old
story
… Calvin sighed in frustration.
Despite all of his best intentions, and efforts, he couldn’t keep
the people he wanted safe. As soon as he showed any interest in
them, no matter how discretely he ordered their capture, they all
seemed to wind up dead. The only silver lining to all of this mad
bloodshed was that his people had managed to bring five people in
alive before they could be assassinated. They were currently in
protective custody. Hopefully that would be enough “Thank you,
Nia,” said Calvin. “Triple our security on the prisoners we have in
custody.”

“
Right away, sir. We will
also continue hunting for Katja Schmidt.” She was the last
remaining name on Calvin’s list that wasn’t in custody yet—as
either a prisoner or a corpse.

“
Keep me
apprised.”

“
One final thing, sir. Your
teams are ready and the rooms are prepped. Shall we begin
interrogating the prisoners we do have in custody?”

“
Yes,” said Calvin. “I want
to be there for as much of it as I can, but there’s no reason why
you shouldn’t start without me. Especially since this may prove to
be a long and difficult process.” He’d expressly forbidden the use
of torture—not believing it would provide useful information—and he
knew that if these people were agents of the Phoenix Ring, like he
suspected, and they were worth their salt, none of them would be
forthcoming. Persuading them might require patience and cleverness.
Fortunately Calvin had the best resources at his disposal.
Including Intel Wing trained interrogators who the Akira House
vouched for, many of whom had come out of retirement to be a part
of his taskforce.

“
Understood, sir,” said Nia.
The call terminated.

Calvin leaned back in his chair and rubbed
his temples. In his mind he saw phantom images of gunfire,
rocket-propelled grenades, and men and women taking fire. He
blinked it away. He was lightheaded and slightly nauseous—side
effects from equarius withdrawal, he guessed. But he stood by his
decision. And in a way it was liberating to have no equarius within
reach, particularly when he’d been the one to make that decision.
Rather than someone else forcing his hand.

His terminal beeped, indicating an unread
message. He leaned forward to check it.

Arbor Café invites
you,
Calvin Cross
,
to join family and friends of
Rafael Te
Santos
today in a birthday celebration
at
0730
. This
certificate entitles the bearer to a free meal. Limit
one
. Print a copy of this
certificate and bring it with you. See you there!

The message had been sent using Arbor Café’s
automated coupon service, a rather common service offered by many
restaurants on Capital World.

Calvin wondered who would be sending him a
cryptic message in the form of a restaurant coupon bearing Rafael’s
name. Had Rafael’s name not been on the ticket he probably would
have assumed the message was junk mail and deleted it.

There wasn’t much to decipher. Someone
wanted to meet with him. The message clearly indicated a time and
place and Calvin understood that he was to go alone. Hence the
“limit one” part.

This left two possibilities. Either someone
was telling the truth and had information about Rafael Te Santos
that he wanted to share with Calvin, and couldn’t contact him
through direct means for some reason, or else this was a ruse to
get him out into the open. Possibly luring him into a trap where he
could be assassinated.

The latter possibility seemed at least as
likely as the first, and Calvin was loath to expose himself to
mortal danger so soon after his brush with the Khans. Since the
attack, he’d remained holed up in his fortress of an estate and
managed his investigation from here. Now though, he finally had
another lead on Rafael’s disappearance—a trail that had grown cold
long ago—and he’d sworn to himself that he would track down his
friend and officer. It was the least he could do considering how
much Rafael had put on the line for him. Calvin couldn’t simply
ignore an opportunity like this. Even if his better judgment told
him he would be making himself vulnerable.

“
I have to do this,” he said
aloud, trying to convince himself. He didn’t plan on going without
support, he’d have well-disguised backup nearby. But he’d have to
make the approach alone, otherwise he might spook the potential
asset. Which meant taking a risk and hoping for the
best.

Because he was certain to be
recognized, he decided to alter his appearance and dress as
commonly as possible choosing neutral, bland colors that would not
stand out. If the potential asset was an observant person, he or
she should still be able to pick Calvin out from a crowd, but if he
walked in there looking like himself,
looking like the Executor of the Empire
, he risked being surrounded by people and drawing too much
notice. Any unwanted attention and his potential asset would split,
Calvin was sure, assuming the asset was legitimate and not a
planted assassin…

He began making the arrangements. It was
already past 0730 so he assumed that time was referring to the next
day. Which was more than enough time to set things up. He’d have
people across the street, others in an unmarked car nearby, and
still more in a gunship ready to swoop down on the street if the
worst should happen.

Calvin decided not to tell Kalila about the
message and his intention to follow its cryptic instructions. He
knew she would disapprove and might flood the street with soldiers
to ensure her Executor’s safety. Ever since his motorcade had been
attacked, Kalila considered it her personal duty to surround Calvin
with layers upon layers of protection. For this operation, however,
he’d have to order his defenders away and slip out into the streets
alone. It would be like old times, when he was coming up on the
backstreets of West Central District.

“
I’ve got this,” he
reassured himself. Thinking about how he’d soon pluck Rafael safely
from the clutches of the Phoenix Ring. “Just hang in there a little
longer my friend. I
will
find you.”

***

Blackmoth finished with Katja and released
her. The rest of her body dropped into the bathtub to join her
melted face. He watched the corpse begin to disintegrate and then
he swept away.

Originally he’d thought to drown her, but
the One True God had wanted a more severe statement made, so
Blackmoth—the weapon of the divine—had been forced to comply.

He’d abducted Katja and
taken her bound and gagged, smuggled in his trunk, to a random
ground-level flat. He’d broken in and made certain no one was home
before dragging Katja inside. He’d taken her here, to this random
place, to give himself enough time to honor the One True God
properly He knew investigators were hunting for Katja. And had he
made the sacrifice in
her
home, where people would be looking, Blackmoth
surely would have been interrupted. Katja didn’t resist as he’d
pressed her face into the tub. He’d given her the mercy of
rendering her unconscious. It did not serve the One True God for
Katja to have to suffer. At least,
not too
much
.

He’d filled the tub with powerful acid and
then pressed her face into it and let the One True God do the rest.
Now she’d been taken care of. The last on the list. And Blackmoth
had finished the work he’d been assigned.

The false master who’d asked him to do this
would not be pleased, Blackmoth knew. He’d wanted all eighteen to
be killed. And that would have been accomplished easily enough.
Protective custody or not, Blackmoth could have seen to it. But
that had not been the will of the One True God.

It was not yet time for five
of the damned on the list to enter the void. It would have been
take their lives. And the One True God wanted five of them to live.
Five to represent the number of destructions he would reign down on
Capital World, humanity, and the entire galaxy. Five was the symbol
of the One True God. Four corners and one heart.
Five
.      

Blackmoth knew the will of the One True God.
And though he was an unworthy vessel, he followed and obeyed.

Chapter 24

Damn that Blackmoth!

Zane got word from his people that of the
eighteen names on that list—people who were loose ends—only
thirteen had been properly dealt with. Five remained. And those
five, with too much knowledge in their heads and too much wind in
their lungs, were now in the custody of the Executor and had become
a credible threat.