Chapter 6
Venin watched Evers’ back carefully. Not in the sense that he was protective of the troubled young man, but he sat in one of the chairs in the passengers’ area, watching the back of their slicer’s head as they flew through the shield. Venin had been a bounty hunter for seventeen years now; he was not a young man any more. But he had gained more experience than any of the others, even Grav. And he knew just how to use that experience for his own benefit and nothing else.
He could tell Evers was struggling to keep his priorities straight. The youngest member of the team was facing the most important test of his moral life: killing his own family, and trying to do it without regret.
Venin was rather surprised that Damidh Kash had sent Evers out on his test so early; he’d been thirty, a hunter for six years, when he’d slaughtered his family. And Venin had done it with a total lack of regret, for it meant he was then a full bounty hunter.
If Evers was facing his test after only a year on the island, that left only one conclusion: the bounty hunter leader saw potential in Evers. Evers was a quick learner, and made good decisions. Evers also didn’t have Demen’s bad quality of constantly dealing out mean remarks. The young man was a good shot, but his draw could use work. Evers was a better computer slicer than any of them, but that was his best. All the others were stronger, faster, more experienced.
So what did Kash see in the young man? What was there in him except a slicer?
Venin decided not to ponder it extensively; there was no reason to think about it for a long time. Damidh Kash was a brilliant man, and Venin owed everything to his boss, so he decided not to reason out why the bounty hunter leader had sent Evers on his test mission so early. The boss always had his reasons; sometimes it was just difficult to see what those reasons were for his decisions. It would work out.
Demen settled deeper into his seat. “Ahhh…it’s good to be back on the job after so long.”
Ferus laughed. “Has five days already worn down your kill gauge, or is it just boredom?”
“Both,” the smaller man assured him. “When my kill gage gets down, I gets bored, and I need to fill it back up again. And, if the information is right, I should get my fill.”
Venin smiled dangerously. “You will, Demen…you will.”
“I had better,” the bounty hunter growled. “Killing’s what I get to do best, and it’s what I haven’t gotten to do much lately. I mean, killing rats in the sewer is fine, for about two milliseconds. I need some fresh meat that I can rip with a pistol laser.”
“You’re disgusting,” Ferus said.
“Think of me what you may, but keep quiet about it,” Demen snapped. “I, on the other hand, have been commissioned by the Imaginary Council of Derision to chatter you to death with my outrageously witty retorts, so I can yell at you all I like.”
Ferus raised an eyebrow. “Imaginary Council of Damnation or not, I’m still going to say this: you’re an idiot. A powerful idiot, when prepared, but still an idiot.”
Venin held up one hand, and Demen paused with his mouth wide open. “Shut up, both of you. I need to tell you something…”
Both of the others leaned forward, and Demen had the good sense to keep his mouth shut for once.
“This isn’t going to be a piece of yuji,” the squad leader informed them. “You probably guessed that already. But this is even more serious than I had realized.”
Demen raised an eyebrow. “The mighty Venin, leader of the Destroyer squad, finds out he’s unprepared for a mission? Whoa!”
Venin reached out one hand and slapped him across the mouth with one casual gesture. “You really should learn to keep your mouth shut, Demen, or I’ll have to shut it for you—permanently.”
The gunner rubbed his sore mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah, I know.”
“Then stay quiet,” Venin advised. “The fortress on Metropolita has top rate security systems—all maxed out. They have a top-notch security shield protecting it, so you couldn’t drop a bomb on it if you wanted to. There’s a line of shielded gateways protected by two plasma turrets each, along with a pair of guards, and each gate has a different lock. Five gates total. Then you get to the front gates, and that’s even harder. It has ten locks, each one with its own personal shield, and the shield generators are hidden on the surface of the doors.”
Demen leaned as far back from Venin as he could without leaving the chair. “Sounds like a lot of fun.”
“I think this is beyond fun,” Ferus warned. “We’ve got good weaponry on us, but since this is supposed to be a secret assassination, we can’t even hit our way in.”
The gunner frowned. “Bummer. Hadn’t thought of that…”
Venin smiled. “Don’t worry. There’s another way in…and I bet you can guess what it is.”
Ferus sighed tiredly. “Of course. The ever-popular sewer system that’s underguarded and overstenched.”
The squad leader smiled. “How did you ever guess?”
In the ceiling above them, the transmitter system crackled to life. From the cockpit, Angor reported, “We’re joining in with the Torren-Metropolitan Flyway in…four…three…two…one…We’ve just entered the traffic and we are decelerating to 350 kph.”
Venin reached down into the crack of the seat beside him, and pulled out the transmitter. “Excellent. I believe the hull redecoration was sufficient for us to blend in; we’ll soon see.”
Angor’s chuckle was fuzzy over the transmitting system. “Heh. If we weren’t on a stealth mission, I’d actually like to go in broad view of everyone else. Then we could have some fun.”
“Stay on priorities, Angor. Keep your mind clear.”
“Roger that…Captain.” The way the pilot said ‘captain’ made it quite clear he resented Venin’s authority. But there was nothing he could do about it now.
The mission had begun. Soon, Family Harvin would be dead, and the war would begin.
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