9


“One straight answer, Grady, that’s all I’m asking for.”
My old friend was in pain. I understood what it felt like to nurse a gunshot wound. The penetrating trauma was a misery all its own, but the bruise resulting from his armor’s attempt to stop the bullet from entering his leg could be bone deep. He needed to get back to the ship, have his wound treated, and take some rest.
“How the hell would I know about rockets on Dreadmax?” he demanded. “Think about it. I didn’t believe you until it was too late. Why would I do that on purpose?”
I looked at Elise sitting with her father, comforting him despite whatever anger she might have for the man. Returning my attention to Grady, I planned out a strategy for the interrogation—phase one, slightly confrontational, was done. It was time to shift gears and see if we were still friends.
“I’m sorry, Grady,” I said, softening my tone just enough to be believable. “It’s been a rough ten hours. I hate these ticking clock missions. Does something to my blood pressure, makes me cranky. I’m glad you’re my overwatch and I guarantee no one else would’ve dropped down to slug it out with these crazies.”
“Don’t fucking mention it. When I dropped, I was expecting a quick grab and go with a little gunfire to tell stories about later.” He shifted positions, extending his wounded leg to relieve some tension. “Maybe get me laid or some free drinks. You know how I love to talk—” Pain choked off his last sentence.
“We are in it together now.” I briefly considered putting a hand on his shoulder, but he’d have seen through it in an instant.
He shifted his bodyweight, searching for relief. “Yeah, unfortunately.”
I checked to make sure Elise was still paying attention to her dad, then leaned close to Grady. “You know we don’t have a chance if we keep running into armies of gun-toting gang members. I’ve seen rebels overthrow governments with less firepower than these guys have. There’s no way they left that kind of armaments at the prison when they pulled out.”
“I don’t know all the details,” he insisted. “You mentioned something about a guy that got put here because he colonized the wrong planet. Maybe some of those people came down with weapons and other stuff. Maybe there’s been black market trading going on here for years. Who knows? The point is, it’s a giant shit sandwich, and we’re gonna eat it crust to crust.”
Grady and I settled into a semi-formalized staring contest that passed for conversation among spec ops members. Doctor Hastings interrupted, making an appeal to get moving.
“Can we please go before I pass out? I feel like my chest has been ripped open and all my ribs broken,” he said.
I checked his wound. The pressure bandage was holding and there wasn’t any blood seeping through. The entry wound had been small once I cleaned it up, possibly shrapnel instead of an actual bullet. I’d been wrong before, but his injury was a lot less life-threatening than it had seemed at first.
Which was good, because we had a long way to go.
“You’ll be alright,” I concluded.
“He was shot, dickface,” Elise said, piercing me with a look.
“Watch your language, sweetie. The man doesn’t know how to talk to people is all.” The doctor realized he’d overstepped, his words fading halfway through the statement.
“Whatever,” said Elise. “I’ve got to pee. I’ll be right back.” She walked off and around the corner, leaving us alone.
I felt around the doc’s torso for signs of internal bleeding and found nothing. “You’re right,” I continued, looking at Hastings. “I only know how to make people beg for mercy and tell me their secrets.”
“We don’t want to miss our ride,” Grady broke in.
“I’m sorry,” Hastings said, ignoring Grady. “The stress of this horrible misadventure is getting to me. Please, just get my daughter and me to Union officials.”
I spoke to the doctor in a low voice as I gave him some pain medication. “Trust me, Doc. No one wants to get off this rock more than me.”
“I would say you are wrong about that,” he replied seriously. “My daughter and I aren’t used to this type of lifestyle. Please don’t let her act fool you. She’s still just a girl.”
“She thinks she’s tough,” I said, watching for her to come back from her bathroom break around the corner.
“I’m sure she is, but not like you and Lieutenant Grady. She hasn’t been trained or exposed to the way the galaxy is. It’s long past time for us to leave. I’m not looking forward to what the Union will do to us, but that’s not your problem.” His words had that emotionless tone I’d noticed earlier.
“I’m not interested in saving you and your daughter just so that she can be made a slave or worse,” I said, watching his reaction.
The doctor shifted uncomfortably, and not from the wounds. “Like I said, Mr. Cain, it isn’t your problem.”
“We’ll go when the time is right. I figured out their schedule. Pay careful attention to the next RSG patrol you see. There will be fewer of them and they’ll be less vigilant. The novelty of the chaos is wearing off. As long as we steer clear of Slab’s better trained soldiers, we’ll be fine.”
“That’s good to know,” the doctor said, distracted. He was clearly getting nervous that Elise was taking so long to come back.
I was betting he didn’t have any idea of his daughter’s grooming rituals. He was her father but hadn’t really been her father. Boarding school didn’t count.
“Be thankful you haven’t met Slab face-to-face. When you do, it will be a terrible experience,” he said.
“Listen very carefully, Doc. I used to be a Reaper. They put me on death row and brought me out just for this mission. On the off-chance I succeed, I might be a free man, or at the very least reinstated. What do you think this does for my motivation?”
“Well, I imagine it would make you very motivated. But that’s not the right answer, is it? This is a trick question,” he said.
“Very good, Doc. I’ve been prepared to die for a long time, but that doesn’t mean I’m suicidal or reckless. What it does mean is that there are certain causes that are important to me, and I’m not afraid to give up the ghost if it means succeeding.”
“I don’t see where you’re going with this.”
“I want to know what you’re doing here and how it involves your daughter. No bullshit. If the only reason the Union wants your kid is to use her as leverage to force your good behavior, I might be able to allow that, even though I don’t like it. If it’s something more sinister, then we’re going to have a problem.”
“We had three successful test subjects in the Lex Project. Three out of several hundred. They’re gone—I had nothing to do with their escape, but the Union doesn’t believe me. They want them back. That’s more than I should have told you, and they’d probably kill me if they find out I said so much.”
“You know where they are,” I said, studying his expression.
He looked away. “What do you want from me?”
“I want to know what type of man you are. Are you trying to protect them? How far are you willing to go?”
He didn’t answer. It looked like the doctor was going to vomit or pass out, maybe both.
Elise returned a few seconds later, hand on her hip and looking annoyed. “What are you two going on about?”
Grady whistled, drawing our attention to his post near the perimeter of the little alcove. “I think it’s time.”
I leaned in close to Hastings. “We’re not done, Doc.”
“No, I imagine we’re not,” he muttered.
I wished I had more time to interrogate him. He didn’t understand how much trouble he was in. What he shared with me was more than enough to earn him a visit from a Reaper, if there were any left.
Would I kill him if Grady gave me the order? Probably not. Sure, he was pretentious and overbearing, not to mention weak, but those were hardly capital crimes. He also had a daughter and I wasn’t in the mood to destroy a family.
Grady and I came together for a quick tactical conference before heading back into the subway passage. I caught him looking at the doctor and suspected he knew a lot more than he was telling me.
The only sensible course of action was to pretend I didn’t know what I knew. We’d have our own showdown before long. I only hoped it didn’t require one of us to die.