Kydd was aware that many of his childhood friends would have seen someone like Zander as “low class,” but after months spent in the military, he no longer cared about such distinctions. Zander was a member of Heaven’s Devils—and that was the only pedigree he had any interest in.
Still, Zander felt the first stirrings of doubt as they arrived in front of the restaurant called Waves, and made for the front door. “I don’t know, Ryk,” he said doubtfully, as a well-dressed couple entered in front of them. “Are you sure about this? What if I use the wrong fork or something?”
“Just do what I do,” Kydd replied confidently. “But even if you make a mistake, who the hell cares? You’re a Heaven’s Devil! That’s an accomplishment that none of the people in this restaurant can match.”
Kydd’s comments made Zander feel better, and he held his head high and shoulders back as they were shown into the dining room. It featured dozens of linen-covered tables, all of which looked out onto a marvelous view. Thousands of jewel fish rose to the surface each evening, and people never tired of looking at the fabulous wash of color generated by their red, green, and blue-tipped feelers.
The most prized seats were directly in front of an enormous window that looked out onto the lake. But such tables were reserved for VIPs, or those willing to slip the maitre d’ some cash. So Kydd and Zander were shown to a small two-person table on the second tier next to the south wall. But the view was still incredible, and as Zander sat down, he knew he’d been correct to accompany Kydd. Because Zander had been to plenty of dives, but here was something completely different, and very special.
Neither one of them was familiar with the local cuisine, so they ordered “Wave Samplers” on the theory that they were sure to like at least part of what the restaurant had to offer. And, based on the deep-fried kitza appetizers that were forthcoming ten minutes later, they were in for a treat.
So there they were, enjoying mugs of locally brewed beer and delicious civilian food, when two men entered and were shown to the best table in the restaurant. A spot centered on the huge window and lit from above. Kydd’s eyes were focused on the view beyond, so Zander was the one to take notice of the newcomers. “Holy crap, Ryk … Colonel Vanderspool just walked in!”
Kydd shifted his gaze, saw Vanderspool, and was about to say something snarky when the other man’s face came into view. That was when Kydd’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. It couldn’t be! Yet there he was, sitting no more than twenty-five feet away! Kydd immediately dropped his gaze down, propped an elbow on the tabletop, and lifted a hand to his forehead.
Zander saw Kydd’s reaction and looked concerned. “Ryk? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“I know the second man,” Kydd said tightly, “although I’m surprised to see him here.”
“Yeah?” Zander said. “Who is he?”
“His name is Errol Bennet,” Kydd replied, “and he’s my father.”
The second course arrived, but the two soldiers didn’t notice. Zander looked at the man in question and back again. “No way! That’s terrific! Are you going to go over and say hello?”
“No,” Kydd replied flatly. “Part of me wants to… . I admit that. But another part wants to know the answer to a very important question.”
Zander’s eyebrows rose. “Which is …?”
“Why is my father on Turaxis II—having dinner with Colonel Vanderspool, who is a self-aggrandizing asshole, and almost certainly a thief?”
Zander shrugged philosophically. “Um, remember Fort Howe? And the load of jammers? We’re still spending the money.”
Kydd knew Zander was correct. It was hypocritical to accuse Vanderspool, and by implication his father, of crimes he had committed. But even so, he couldn’t bring himself to stand up and cross what seemed like a vast chasm. He’d been living a lie for months now, but somewhere in the middle of it all, that lie had become reality. And there was Vanderspool to consider… . What would happen if Kydd walked up to them right then and there? It would be catastrophic! The truth regarding his identity would come out—and his father would insist that he leave the military.
Kydd felt a vague plan start to form in his mind. A childish scheme, really, that involved following his father back to wherever it was that he was staying, and a possible reunion without Vanderspool being present. He warned his dinner companion, and gave the other man a chance to bow out, but Zander shook his head. “Are you kidding? No way … I’ll watch your six.”
The two managed to enjoy the rest of their dinner, but Kydd never took his eyes off the pair.
Having already paid the rather extravagant bill, Kydd was ready when the two men rose from their table, paused to say something to the formally attired maître d’, and left. It was easy to follow them out of the restaurant and down a darkened walkway.
But rather than head for the pedestrian causeway and the shoreline beyond, Vanderspool and Bennet turned in the opposite direction. Kydd was surprised to see that neither one of the men was accompanied by bodyguards, but supposed that was indicative of where they were, and the nature of their relationship.
Despite being off the beaten path, there was still a bit of foot traffic. So Kydd and Zander were able to remain inconspicuous as they followed the two men to a low-slung building that had the name F ISHC O painted on the side of it in big black letters. A boatyard was located right next door. There was the glow of what might have been floodlights from the water side of the structure, and based on the intermittent sound of power tools, it appeared that work was going to continue well into the night.
As the door to the FishCo building opened to let the men enter, a shaft of light shot out onto the walkway. Kydd caught sight of two Bennet family retainers and a couple of men who might have been resocialized marines dressed in civilian clothes.
What could that mean? Kydd wondered as he and Zander paused at the end of the boardwalk and pretended to look at the view. A throaty rumble was heard and a dimly lit wave skimmer appeared out of the darkness. It slowed as it passed under them, and Kydd could hear waves slapping against the pilings as the engine died.
Were more people arriving to meet with Vanderspool and his father? Or was that simply a fishing boat? Kydd had no way to know but was very curious. “Wait here,” he said, as he turned to Zander. “I’m going to find out what’s going on in there.”
“Forget it,” Zander responded. “I’m coming with you! Remember Firebase Zulu? I had your back then and I’ve got it now.”
Kydd slapped the other man on his shoulder and smiled. “You’re just as crazy as Harnack. You know that?”
Zander grinned. He was forced to speak loudly to be heard over the chatter of a power wrench. “Look who’s talking! How are we going to get in?”
“Over there,” Kydd replied. “See the outside stairs that lead up to the second floor? Maybe the door’s unlocked.”
That seemed unlikely, but Zander didn’t have a better idea, and seconds later he was a few steps behind the sniper, tiptoeing up the wooden stairs to a landing and a weather-beaten door. It was, as Zander had expected it would be, firmly locked. “Damn!” Kydd whispered. “We’re fekked.”
“I have an idea,” Zander replied. “Boost me up… . Maybe there’s a way down from the roof.”
Kydd looked up, judged that the roof was flat enough to stand on, and nodded. “Good idea … be careful, though. I know my father’s people will be armed, and chances are Vanderspool’s bodyguards are, too.”
Zander nodded, put his right foot into the cradle that Kydd provided, and was ready when the larger man heaved him upward. There was a muted thump as Zander threw his forearms out onto the roof. Then, having brought a leg up and over, he disappeared from sight.