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Lucia Ribiero stepped through the lavishly furnished lobby of Belham Tower. A security station had been installed at the reception desk and looming red and yellow security androids were stationed with alarming regularity throughout the otherwise quietly ostentatious foyer.
At the checkpoint, she was stopped by a security guard who made her sign in, checked her appointment against the schedule, and then passed a hand scanner over her figure. The millions of tiny machines that crawled and swam all over her body remained undetectable to regular security screens, so she could afford to be compliant. She smiled politely while being scanned, and a moment later the guard waved her through to the lifts.
At the top floor, she stepped out into another security checkpoint, this one manned with scowling mercenaries in ill-fitting uniforms, probably from a Combine-owned security company. The six or so grizzled goons all gave Lucia deep, evaluative stares as she walked into the hall. She returned the favor and everyone simply stood staring for a moment. Lucia counted four men and two women. One man had a prosthetic arm, and another had some sort of bionic monocle. All were hyper muscular in the fashion of those who employed gene therapy and pharmaceuticals to enhance their physical gifts. Between them all, there were enough guns and grenades to level a building.
What a bunch of goons, Lucia thought, it’s like something from an old comic book.
Her brain, operating at many times the speed of anyone else’s, began to evaluate scenarios for engaging the squad. As she was unarmed, she would have to secure one of their weapons first and then dispatch the others. A few iterations of the combat sequence later, she determined that it would be best to go for the bullpup bead rifle one of the women was carrying. It was the only weapon she recognized and thus knew how to use, and it appeared to be sufficient for penetrating the light armor the squad was wearing.
This is what my life has become? The former vice-president of a beverage company suddenly wondered.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the door at the end of the elevator lobby sliding open and the subsequent appearance of the Chairman’s assistant in the opening.
“Please come in, Ms. Ribiero,” Laura invited without warmth, “The Chairman is waiting for you.”
The two women eyed each other for a moment. Laura was tall, lean, and carried herself with an effortless calm. Lucia was shorter, her body was athletic and far more curvaceous, and she always seemed to vibrate with barely constrained energy. The two instantly disliked each other, but neither was the type to let that sort of thing affect how they pursued their goals.
“Good morning, Laura,” Lucia nodded graciously as she walked through the door. Inside the Chairman’s office, crews were still repairing the damage from the assassination attempt. Most of the walls had been repaired, but there were still huge areas in need of patching and few places where the holes torn into the floors and ceiling by Mack had yet to be attended to. New furniture had been brought in at least, and Pops was seated in a comfortable chair by his large window wall.
The lanky mobster greeted Lucia cordially, with a smile that appeared both fatherly and genuine, “Ah, Ms. Ribiero! So lovely to see you. Thank you for meeting with me this morning. I apologize for the state of my offices, but as you know, we have had some... unpleasantness of late.”
“I am impressed with your gift for understatement, Mr. Chairman,” Lucia said coyly, “The gentlemen and ladies outside seem rather unpleasant themselves.”
“Oh, them?” Pops shook his head, “Those are mostly for show. I borrowed them from one of our offices in the Sprawl. My personal compliment is far more competent.” Pops tilted his chin toward the last two people in the room. Lucia recognized them from pictures and descriptions as Mack and Mindy. Mack stood in the corner, entirely immobile, eyes hidden behind a black visor that Lucia presumed provided him with tactical data and diagnostics the same way Roland’s helmet did when he chose to wear it. Mack was roughly the same size as Roland, maybe a touch smaller, but Lucia knew enough about the galactic mercenary racket by now to not assume that size really meant anything.
She did not recognize his chassis because she was not an expert in such things. It was man-shaped, blocky, and heavily armored. That much she could ascertain on her own, and the twin rotary-barrelled auto cannons mounted to the cyborg’s arms were all she needed to see in order to form a tactical assessment of the bodyguard.
Heavy infantry, she made a mental note.
Mindy, on the other hand, was harder to place. The woman was short, tiny in every way except for the ridiculous chest, and blindingly blonde. The woman wore a dark blue skin-tight jumpsuit festooned with weapons and pouches, unzipped to an obscene altitude to show off her attributes.
Lucia smirked at the obviousness of the trick. Probably keeps the boys distracted, she conceded. Otherwise, she could not ascertain any other augmentations. But all that really meant was that they weren’t obvious.
She turned her attention back to Pops and took a seat across from him on a luxurious leather couch. Laura settled down at a desk and turned on her terminal, and a well-dressed young man brought coffee. Pops, ever the gentlemen, began a stream of predictable pleasantries and small talk. Lucia had long practice in dealing with men and women who liked to do business by the old rules, and that meant coffee and chit-chat for at least ten minutes before hard business got discussed. She endured it with practiced patience.
Nine-minutes and fifty-one seconds later, Pops steered the conversation to important matters.
“Now, I understand your Roland is on Enterprise Station right now.”
No one on their end had disseminated this information, but Lucia was not surprised to find out that Pops had an eye on them.
“We were very concerned when Roland did not accept our offer. We felt it was quite generous, and obviously, we are very concerned about the current state of affairs.” He tossed a dismissive wave to the surrounding damage.
“I understand completely, but considering the nature of the attacks, and how the neutrality of Dockside was ignored, Roland and I decided that it would be best to pursue the matter under a Gateways contract,” there was no reproach in her words, but Pops understood the implications.
“I see,” he said slowly, “Do you or your partner suspect that The Combine is running a false flag of some sort? Making a move on Dockside?”
“No, we don’t,” she said truthfully, “But it is not hard to visualize a scenario where the loss of Big Woo operations might motivate certain bosses to consider de-stabilizing dockside as a precursor to a power shift. If Gateways asserts control over Dockside, then the revenues from illicit shipping operations and the lion’s share of money laundering will have to move to other territories. Territories directly under Combine control.”
“It seems a bit far-fetched and convoluted, does it not?” Pops asked with an arched eyebrow.
Lucia shrugged, “Not if someone on your side is playing a very long game, it’s not.”
“I would know of it if that was the case,” Pops seemed very confident on that.
“Right now, we are running down a lead, and we should have a better idea of what is going on in a couple of days, either way. Roland has had some success on Enterprise and I expect to hear from him today on what the next move will be.”
“And you will keep us apprised?” the question was all innocence and helpfulness.
Lucia didn’t buy it, “You understand that we are on a Gateways contract, and you know neither of us would discuss the details of an ongoing project without the express written consent of our client.”
“Of course not,” Pops agreed, “I simply want to be as helpful as I can, in light of my own interests in running these people to ground.” He once again indicated the surrounding destruction.
“I’m glad you feel that way.” Lucia went on the offensive, “Because there are a few things you can help us with. If you are amenable, of course.”
“I am at your disposal, Ms. Ribiero, I’m sure.”
Lucia was sure he was not, but she let it slide, “Roland has uncovered evidence that a particular individual may be involved, but this individual operates in an arena that may have significant overlap with your own business ventures.” This was the meat of the matter. Roland would be operating in a very precarious place, and keeping The Combine on his side was crucial to his success. “We want to make sure that you understand that while Roland is working toward concluding Gateways business with the parties in question, that we also value our relationship with the Board.”
“Oh, my,” Pops pressed his lips together, “This is going to become rather complicated, I suspect. Exactly who has our dogged Mr. Tankowicz found himself pursuing?”
Lucia fired back without prevarication, “Sergei Vladivostok.”
“Shit!” It wasn’t Pops who spoke it, and all eyes darted to Mack. The big mercenary’s face had warped into a tight-lipped sneer, and Mindy was openly showing her disgust.
“I quite agree, Mack,” Pops concurred, his tone betraying an air of disapproval at the outburst. Mack did not look like he cared.
“And what is your assessment of the Commodore, Mack? Mindy? Any insight as to why he may have run afoul of Roland?” Pops respected tradesmen, and his two bodyguards would have as much to say about Vladivostok as anyone in the room.
Mindy answered, “Nothing material you don’t already know. He’s a pirate. Commands a big fleet. Half his contracts are legit, and half aren’t. He has lettres de marque from some frontier systems that make it hard for legit system governments to prosecute him, and he has been in a quiet war with Gateways for a decade now.”
Mack added some insight, “He is arrogant. Likes to take on capital ships with his converted freighter because they always underestimate him. I was on one of his contracts a few years back. Good commander, pays his people on time. Smart.”
The Chairman nodded slowly, “I agree with Mack and Mindy. Obviously, The Combine has certain shipping interests that the Commodore is uniquely suited to assist us with.” It was the most circumspect way of saying ‘smuggling and slave trade’ that Lucia had ever heard. The mental gymnastics that criminal minds often employed always fascinated her, “He has provided us with various services for decades, now. I have met the man, and I have never had reason to believe he had any ambitions beyond building his armada.”
Lucia asked, “Mack, you served with him, why would he move on The Combine right now?”
Mack’s answer came with a small chortle, “The same reason he does damn near anything: Someone is paying him to.”
Mindy laughed as well, “No offense, but all you super-smart corporate brainy-types are really over-thinking this. He’s a pirate. He’s doing pirate shit, is all.”
“Yes, I suppose that makes sense,” Pops agreed with a withering look at the tiny blonde mercenary, “But if your lead is solid, Ms. Ribiero, then he must be getting paid a lot to risk losing his lucrative association with The Combine.”
“I think we both know, Mr. Chairman, that Roland’s leads are always solid,” Lucia replied and sipped her coffee.
“Yes. He is nothing if not reliable,” the old gangster conceded gracefully, “We will need to verify this information of course. Laura, can we construct a plausible reason to bring Vladivostok here?”
The assistant responded with her customary brusqueness, “He will not come to Earth. He currently holds lettres de marque from Wayfair and flies under an Ariadne charter, which means he can go to Enterprise safely. But the moment he leaves the free trade zone, the Council will apprehend him. His ship, the Mikhail Kalashnikov, is formidable, but it will not be able to handle a naval battle group. There are four such groups in-system right now.”
“Can we get him to Enterprise, then?” Pops asked.
“We can arrange that, I believe,” Laura responded with lips stretched tight, “The issue will be not tipping our hand doing it.”
“Can’t we simply imply that there is a large contract on the table?” Pops offered.
“Coming to Enterprise is a substantial risk for Vladivostok, sir,” Laura explained, “He will need a compelling reason for gating in so close to the Council Naval forces.”
Pops smiled, “Well, then. Let’s simply tell him that I need to see him in person on a sensitive matter. If he is in the employ of the people trying to kill me, then that should be far too tempting an opportunity for him to miss.”
The brunette did not appear pleased with this, “You would have to go to Enterprise Station for that, sir. Your safety would be very hard to ensure there.”
“Do I not employ the famous Mack and Mindy?” he chuckled, “My dear, my career has never been safe. I have managed to survive this long despite the risk, I can manage a little more.”
“As you say, sir,” Laura acquiesced, “but I don’t like it.”
“You do not have to like it, Laura. Just make it happen, if you would,” even when he was being stern, the man was unfailing in his courtesy.
“Yes sir,” Laura nodded.
“Excellent!” Pops rubbed his hands briskly, “I shall arrange to meet the Commodore on Enterprise. Naturally, my enemies will attempt to kill me at that time. Mack and Mindy will ensure my safety by subduing the good Commodore and his forces. Mr. Tankowicz, in the service of Gateways, will then extract such information from them as needed to identify our real opponent.”
“It’s a plan,” Lucia agreed, but she wasn’t as confident about it as she should have been. She still had too many reservations about this strategy. It all seemed just a little too neat, too easy. Something in the way Mack and Mindy shifted at their posts said that they felt it, too. Laura, having had her objections overruled, seemed to have already moved on and was furiously tapping at the terminal.
I have a bad feeling about this. The thought came unbidden and she excused herself from the meeting to call Roland and bring him up to speed.