He opened the next biohazard box on the table, reaching inside to pull out not a vial, but a normal-looking plastic baggie filled with dull gray-black powder. “This is our finished product,” St. Luke said, tossing the baggie at Korigan, who caught it just in time.
Korigan frowned at the bag of powder in his hands. “Is it a drug, too?”
“Not specifically,” St. Luke said. “It’s called Z3X, and it was developed to be an… additive of sorts. By itself, it does nothing, but when mixed with other drugs—amphetamines, opiates, hallucinogens, uppers, downers, even cannabis and alcohol—it acts like a booster, multiplying the effects of whatever drug it’s taken with.”
Korigan’s face broke into a smile. For the first time since he had arrived down here, things were starting to make sense. This was business, and business he understood. “I always wondered how you were able to sell so cheap here in Chicago and still turn a profit, but now I see. This lets you give your customers the same high for less.”
It was brilliant. With an additive like this, you could give a cokehead the same high while only having to fork over half as much actual cocaine. It was exactly the sort of ballsy, game-changing move he’d expect from a man like St. Luke, but the billionaire was shaking his head.
“No, no, no,” he said angrily. “You’re missing the point. This isn’t about money. Look around. Does it look like I need more money?” He scoffed. “Money’s so easy, even a third-world thug like you can get rich if he’s willing to do things no one else will. But this is bigger than money.” He held up the baggie of Z3X. “This is about control.”
He finished with a grin, but Korigan was still bristling over the thug comment. He didn’t need anyone, not even St. Luke, to remind him where he’d come from. But as much as he wanted to teach the rich man a lesson, that wasn’t why he was here. Pride got you nowhere in life, and Korigan had learned long ago to swallow his if that’s what it took. “What kind of control is there that you can’t buy?” he asked, his voice perfectly cordial, like he hadn’t even heard the insult. “Everyone has a price. Whether you buy it with that powder, blood, or money doesn’t matter. The end’s the same.”
“That’s where we’re going to have to agree that you’re wrong,” St. Luke said, looking him in the eyes. “There are more ways to control a man than leverage, my friend. Debts can be paid, addictions can be broken, lives can be saved, but you can never escape what’s in here.” He tapped his fingers against his forehead. “Who we are inside, the person we become when our backs are to the wall, that’s what Z3X unlocks.”
Korigan was getting frustrated. He could deal with a certain amount of mockery from St. Luke, but he hated the feeling of being so far out of his element. “How? Is it a psychotropic?”
“You’ll see,” St. Luke promised, holding out his hand to take the baggie of Z3X back. “For now, though, all you need to know is that we’re moving ahead with our final production push.”
“Final push? I don’t understand. You just said the green slime was the first experiment that led to Z3X. How can there already be so much out there if you just tested it today?”
“I already told you,” St. Luke said dismissively. “The incidents today were a test for you. We’ve been working on this for months now. Today’s experiments were just a way to use up old stock and test my tools at the same time, and I’m happy to say both were a success. You’ve proven you can handle what I throw at you, which is good, because I’m about to toss you one hell of a bomb.”
He moved closer, grinning at Korigan with a smile that made the former merc step back. “I know you, Korigan,” he said quietly. “You clawed your way up from nothing, became the rich and powerful man you are purely because you were willing to do what others weren’t. There are many who call you a monster for that, but I’ve always thought if you weren’t willing to be a monster, then you weren’t really trying.” He glanced over his shoulder at the table full of white boxes. “This Z3X isn’t just a drug. It’s a change. With it, I intend to turn this city into something greater, and I’m reaching the point where I can’t do it alone.”
Those were words he’d been waiting a long time to hear, and Korigan took a deep breath. “What do you need me to do?”
“Steer the ship,” St. Luke said. “I’ve set everything up. Z3X is already coursing through Chicago’s drug-addled underbelly, but there still has to be a push. A kick that can launch this city into my control.”
Now they were talking. “You mean a military coup?” Korigan grinned wide. “No problem. My men—”
“No, no, nothing like that,” St. Luke said quickly, shaking his head. “Quite the opposite. I had the mayor make you police chief because I need you to keep order, not break it.”
Now Korigan was really confused, but before he could ask another question, St. Luke held up his hand.
“I brought you into this because you’re famous for keeping your command no matter what happens,” he said. “That’s what I need from you now. The Z3X is already everywhere, but it’s all for nothing if I can’t activate it. The green slime was just the beginning. Soon, this whole city is going to be tearing itself apart to reinvent itself into the Chicago I want. That’s what I mean by controclass="underline" the ability to take an entire population and push it to the limit. All the groundwork is already laid, but it will still take time to build up to the critical mass I need. While that’s happening, I need to know that when push comes to shove, you can keep the Z3X flowing. That means my factories in the city stay open, my pushers keep operating unharassed, my name and the name of the drug stay out of the papers, and the Feds don’t get involved until it’s far too late. And it all happens as if it’s just another day in the office for you. I need your composure. I need you to control the city. Do that for me, Victor, and I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted.”
Korigan swallowed. “Which is?”
“Power,” St. Luke whispered. “The power to be above those who would pull you down. Power no one can ever take away.” St. Luke pointed at his chest. “My power.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’d give that to me?”
“Gladly,” St. Luke said. “I’ve been me for almost sixty years now. Frankly, it’s time for a change, and I’ve been looking for an heir for some time.”
“An heir?” Korigan repeated, unbelieving.
“Yes,” St. Luke said with a smile. “Someone with the experience and ruthlessness needed to take over my business concerns while I focus on more… spiritual matters.”
That was a crock if Korigan had ever heard it. St. Luke didn’t have a spiritual bone in his body. But while his explanation didn’t fly, he did seem serious about the offer.
“To be clear,” Korigan said slowly. “If I do what you want here in Chicago, you’ll make me your heir, the person who inherits this.” He swept his arms upward, indicating the mansion overhead. “All of it?”
“All of it,” St. Luke agreed. “You won’t even have to wait until I’m dead. I’m actually planning to retire soon. Consider this operation my going-away present.”
It was too good to be true. Korigan knew that meant he shouldn’t trust it. Hell, with that hovering darkness over his shoulder, no sane man would. But he was having trouble fighting against his desire for it to be true. After all, wasn’t he owed a stroke of good fortune? He, who’d worked so hard to pull himself out of the gutter? Who’d thrown away pride countless times to court the same billionaire who was standing in front of him, offering the impossible? No. It was past time for Victor Korigan’s ship to come in.