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The blond assassin made no attempt to hide herself. Why this made Grimes uneasy, he could not say. She had no compelling reason to hide, he supposed. Nevertheless, something about her relaxed posture felt odd. He immediately suspected an ambush, of course. This made no sense, though. Grimes had no reason to target her, so why would the fixers leave her exposed to him as bait? Nothing they knew of compelled him to attack the woman, so why did it look like they wanted him to? It was all wrong. Grimes was supposed to be the bait, not the other way around.
Nevertheless, Grimes smelled a trap of some kind. As per the Inquisitor’s plan, he allowed himself to be seen in transit between hiding places. Within seconds of appearing in public, local informants transmitted this information to the fixers. If such did not happen organically, the Inquisitors would have done it themselves. Raphael insisted that Jericho could manage Tankowicz, so any fight that happened along the way would be far more manageable. The remaining fixers would have no dearth of opportunities to track him in transit, and several convenient places to tackle Grimes had been arranged along the path. When the fixers struck, they would find themselves quickly overmatched and Polito would get his homicidal bride back.
He spared a thought for Tankowicz and Jericho in passing, wondering which oversized buffoon would prove the superior war machine. This interest was academic at best, and he found that he held no strong preferences either way.
He turned his attention back to the lone killer following him. He had moved from a small but busy concourse that connected two commercial areas and slipped into one of the ubiquitous maintenance chases that ran alongside each hallway. They were almost entirely alone in the dim and narrow tunnel, and the blond refused to hide her presence from him. She shadowed his steps perhaps fifty yards behind him, not caring at all if Grimes knew it. He stuck with the plan, though each step past one of the Inquisitors’ carefully prepared ambush sites added to his confusion and unease. Where were the others?
Grimes fought for zanshin and dug into his endless lessons on tactics for the answers he needed. One certainty ruled his ruminations and set his teeth to grinding. Mindy Carter was too smart to fall for any of this. Furthermore, she had missed three solid opportunities to engage him already. One might attribute this to a surplus of professional caution, but the damned woman was not interested in being the least bit cautious in the first place. The unease grew into suspicion, and suspicion ascended to certainty in short order. Grimes decided to change the game. He stopped walking and turned to face the other direction. Then he waited. Due to the gentle curve of the chase, Grimes could not see past thirty feet. His ears, however, had no trouble picking up the sound of Mindy’s footsteps. The metal tunnel channeled and reflected the soft tread of booted feet and fed the noise directly to his bionic ears. She walked with a measured step, neither rushing nor sneaking. The steps drew closer with a reliable rhythm until Grimes knew her to be just beyond the curve limiting his vision.
“I can smell you over there, Grimes,” called the woman. “This can’t be the place where y’all were gonna ambush me. Too narrow.”
Grimes chewed a lip. “I thought it was I who was being hunted.”
“Oh, please. I knew Polito was a huge gasbag, but his ego must be totally out of control these days if he’s using you to try and get to me. You think he knows what you got hidden under your jacket?” The woman stepped into view, one hand resting casually on the butt of her holstered pistol. “I suppose not. If he did, you’d be dead already.”
“And now what? We fight to the death in this tunnel?”
“I don’t see the point, really. I mean, it’s too small for any Sword Brothers to help you out, and that’s kinda nice. But come on. Once we start shooting in here, we’re both dead eventually.” She tapped her chest. “My armor is good, but you’ll get a head shot at some point.” She winked. “So will I.”
“There is always the blades,” Grimes replied, tapping his identical sasori dagger.
Mindy stretched her arms to either side, easily touching both walls of the chase. “Yeah, that sounds even less fun.”
Grimes could not fault her logic. Any fight in here virtually guaranteed death for both participants. “It does seem a poor tactical choice to fight here. So is it to be talking, then? Are you going to talk me out of the memory core?”
“Could I?”
“Probably not.”
“Then just take me to Polito, then.”
Grimes made no attempt to hide his surprise. “Really? So easy?”
“Sure. Why not? He and I have unfinished business, anyway.”
Grimes shook his head slowly. “You’ll surrender your weapons and just walk into a cadre of Inquisitors who intend to brainwash you into marrying a Church Elder?”
“Intend,” Mindy said, wagging her finger. “Being the operative word.”
“And the memory core? Are you forgetting about that?”
“No, I just don’t care that much. If two megacorporations want to go to war over some trade secrets or whatever, what the hell do I care? Yeah, I know the boss and the big goon want their payday, but I’m just not invested enough to miss my shot at Polito over it. We have...” she let the next word slide past bared teeth in an ugly hiss, “...history.”
Grimes considered this for a moment. Obviously, Mindy hated Polito. Hate was a powerful motivator. Furthermore, she clearly had some sort of plan for dealing with the Inquisitors. Whatever other opinions he might have on the woman, he knew her to be far too cagey for stupid plans. Nevertheless, delivering the woman would fulfill his part of the deal and get him off Gethsemane either way. Did he care if this woman killed a Church Elder? The question was both internal and rhetorical. He did not. This whole situation appeared to be swinging in his favor, a shift he neither understood nor trusted. He sensed a trick of some kind, yet the nature of it still eluded him. The real question requiring an immediate answer was whether or not it mattered. With any luck, the assassin and her friends would create enough chaos for him to slip out of the Underworld without Inquisitor assistance.
“Fine,” Grimes said. “I don’t care what game you are playing here. Give me your weapons and I’ll take you to the Inquisitors.”
“Peachy,” Mindy said with a bright smile. She unhooked her weapons belt and held them out in front while she walked forward. “You gonna tie me up?”
“Does it matter?”
“No.”
“Then why bother?”
“It might make the Inquisitors feel better.”
“Are you trying to talk me into it?”
“No. Just sayin.’”
Grimes shrugged. “I’m not going to restrain you. I don’t have anything strong enough to restrain you with, anyway.” He gestured down the tunnel. “You walk in front.” His sasori blade appeared in his hand as if by magic. “Do not try anything.”
“This was my idea, duh. Why would I try anything?”
“Just walk.”
He guided her with curt instructions, telling her which way to turn as they approached the intersections. The route was circuitous by design, making any attempt to memorize the path impossible. Within half an hour, the pair of killers stood before a large double door with no label or signage to indicate what was on the other side.
“Through here,” Grimes ordered. Mindy obliged by slapping the access panel with her palm. The door squeaked open on dusty glides to reveal a large open room just beyond. Two towering Knights in silver and white armor flanked the door, their ornate vestments twinkling with gold accents. Grimes did not bother to hide his disdain for the unnecessary ornamentation and the equally overwrought egos of the men inside those shells. He kept his blade level and ushered his charge toward the six Inquisitors standing just beyond the threshold. Raphael smiled wide when he saw Grimes enter with his knife poised to skewer the diminutive blond. Grimes only managed a frown in response. “Who are these?”
“Templars,” Raphael replied. “Here to ensure Miss Carter behaves herself during her audience with the Elder.”
“I do not like when plans are changed without notice, Slag,” Grimes said. “But I also do not care anymore, either. Here is the target. Now get me out of here.”
“Soon enough, Mr. Grimes,” replied Raphael. “There is quite the commotion going on right now, and any attempt to move you may be dangerous for everyone. The Underworld is locked down for the moment.”
Grimes felt his temper slip. “You did not say you were going to lock it down!”
“Only temporary, Killam. Give us a few hours and we will be ready.”
Grimes seethed beneath his stony scowl. The Inquisitor might be telling the truth, though any man in his position was likely a gifted liar by necessity. Something Mindy said earlier wriggled to the front of his mind. “What are you up to, Inquisitor?”
“I’m not ‘up to’ anything, Killam. Someone has agitated a large portion of the local populace to the extent that we are having difficulties arranging for secure locations at the moment. Sword Brothers are understaffed since Tankowicz has been using them for sparring practice, and her friends,” he gestured to Mindy, who smiled sweetly in response, “have managed to wield their popularity with more skill than one might have thought possible without inside help. There is an Elder on site, and suddenly we cannot move assets? I do not believe in coincidence, Grimes. Nothing moves in the Underworld until I have more answers. Not even us.”
Grimes spoke slowly, his brow collapsed into deep furrows. “We are stuck in this room?”
“For now, yes. Our usual routes and safe houses are all suspect. Until we verify the Elder’s safety, we stay put. It will not take long, though.”
“How long?”
“Like I said, a few hours at most.”
“I see,” said Grimes. He looked back to Mindy. “So this was the plan?”
“Pretty much,” she replied.
“It is a good plan,” Grimes conceded.
“What plan?” Raphael asked, a dangerous edge in his voice.
“Miss Carter has allowed herself to be taken in order to lead her people to where we intended to hide. They have facilitated the unrest, using the Elder’s visit to enhance the effect enough to get us to hold still until she is found. In doing so, she has rather easily slipped past all your ambushes and arranged for a more advantageous confrontation with me.”
Raphael nodded. “I see. You exploited our caution to keep us from moving around.”
“Nope,” Mindy said, picking at a fingernail. “Just Grimes. I don’t care where you guys go, to be honest. Just need him and the thing he stole. You can leave right now, and I won’t have a thing to say about it.”
“How... magnanimous,” Raphael said. “But I can’t help but notice that you are unarmed and all alone, stashed deep within the bowels of the maintenance tunnels. This room is shielded from eavesdropping and tracking devices, so I don’t see rescue coming any time soon. How exactly to you intend to strengthen your negotiating position?”
“I dunno,” she said with a wink. “Heya, Grimes! You think Manny is going to be able to find me down here?”
Raphael looked at Grimes as well, eyes narrow. Grimes did not bother to lie. “Oh, I suspect so.” To Raphael, he added, “Richardson is supremely skilled in such things. For them to have executed such a ruse, they would have had a plan for tracking her.”
Raphael did not bother to reply. His hand darted into his pocket and came out with a comm handheld. He spoke into it without taking his eyes off Mindy. “Leonardo, it’s Raphael. I need a sitrep and a position on Tankowicz and his people.”
Grimes heard the reply, and if his ears were good enough to pick up on the intel, Mindy’s were too. Both laughed out loud at what was said.
Mindy snickered. “You bet on the Knight or Iron Britches, Killam?”
“Neither, though I never did like Jericho’s chances.” Grimes shrugged. “He escaped the fate of his brothers for a long time. Now we know why. At least the good Knight got to find out what happens in the FAST lane, it seems.”
Raphael shoved the comm back into his pocket. His glare at Mindy was meant to wilt her, and it failed. “Fine, then. You believe you have the upper hand? What is stopping me from killing you right now?”
Grimes saw the look that passed between the little blond killer and the tall Inquisitor and stifled another derisive scoff. Mindy’s answer destroyed any hope that intimidation was possible. “Elder Polito came all the way down here to pick me up, buddy.” She raised her arms above her head and writhed like courtesan. “If you big strong boys damage any of this before he gets to have it, well...” eyelashes fluttered, “I guess you’ll be cleaning toilets in the Reflection Cells for the rest of your life.”
“I might take that chance,” Raphael warned.
“Better check with the Templars first, silly boy. I don’t think they’ll cotton to that idea.”
Raphael’s head whipped to the side and locked one of the Knights into a fierce glare. “Is that true?”
The Templar tilted his helmet and replied in a bland, electronic baritone. “The woman is not to be harmed, Inquisitor.”
The smile returned to Raphael’s face in that moment. He turned to look at Grimes once more and said, “Well, I suppose we will simply need to collect dear Elder Polito and get his bride shipped off before her people find us, then.”
“Do as you will,” Grimes said. “I’ll make my own way out and find you when you are ready to uphold your end of our bargain.”
“I think not, Killam. You are in this with us, especially until we sort out exactly how we were outmaneuvered here.”
Mindy sniffed and inspected her nails. “I don’t think your buddy over there trusts you very much, Grimes. Or maybe he’s got other reasons to keep you close. I don’t suppose you have anything in your possession they might want more than my gorgeous ass, do you?”
“Don’t belabor the obvious, Mindy. I get it,” Grimes growled. To Raphael, he said, “Our business is concluded, here, Inquisitor. I am leaving now, with my package. Do you intend to try and stop me?”
“Killam,” Raphael began, “I can’t let you walk away just yet. Don’t be a fool.”
Grimes did not answer. He set his jaw and let his thoughts retreat into the comforting serenity of zanshin. Mindy’s implication may be the case, or she might be manipulating him into doing something stupid. He would not be stupid, of course. The archer might make a mistake or be swayed by doubt. But the arrow once loosed flew to the target no matter what. His goal was simple. Get out of the Underworld, get to Gomorrah, and hand off the core before leaving this wretched planet. He could not afford to let the ease and convenience of Inquisitor assistance blind him to the risks. Risks, he now knew, to be higher than tolerable. He must be the loosed arrow, flying true no matter what happened around him. Chaos was his ally, as both the Inquisitors and the fixers appeared to have well-ordered plans in play. He smiled. If confusion was to be his weapon, Killam Grimes would wield it as only a master could. He chose the most counterintuitive action available to him.
Baring his teeth in a fierce grin, Grimes tossed Mindy’s weapon belt back to the ferocious killer. To her credit, Mindy caught it as if she never doubted its arrival, though she failed to stop a lone eyebrow from raising as she did. She wrapped it around her waist in one smooth motion. Somehow her pistol found its way into her right hand and her dagger the left before anyone registered the action. Grimes had already duplicated the maneuver himself.
It was time for some chaos.
“We ain’t done, Grimes,” Mindy warned as the Templars surged to life around them.
“If we die, we are,” he replied. “First things first.”