“None of the bombs hit target. Not a single assassin got through.”
DeVore felt his mouth go dry. Someone had betrayed him. Someone had fucking stitched him up!
Wyatt’ It had to be Wyatt!
He kept his voice calm. “Meet me, Edmund. At the Yellow Emperor. Go there now and wait for me.”
“But Howard ...”
“Just go there!”
He cut the connection and sat back, fuming now. Impossible. It simply wasn’t possible.
DeVore spoke to the air. “Gemma?”
Immediately his personal assistant was on the line. “Yes, Mister DeVore?”
“Get me a computer analysis of whafs been happening in the markets.”
“Over the last month, sir?”
“No, dammit! The last hour! In fact, make that the last half hour!”
“But Mister DeVore ...”
“Don’t argue with me woman, just do it!”
Again he cut connection. He had never spoken to her like that before - had been careful never ever to speak to any of his staff with anything but the utmost courtesy before - but now the gloves were off. Someone was fucking with him, and he wanted to know who and how, and no one - no one - was going to get between him and that knowledge!
“Sir?”
It was his chauffeur, Haavikko, speaking on the internal line. DeVore bristled, feeling a momentary anger, then answered him. “What?” “There’s a call, sir. On your private line.”
“A call?”
“Yes, sir. I... I think you ought to take it” He hesitated, then. “Okay, Axel. Patch it through.” A moment’s pause, then, “Howard?”
The voice was familiar, but he couldn’t quite make it out “Do I know you?” Laughter. Laughter that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end; that sent a ripple down his spine. DeVore leaned forward, punching the pad that would give him vision. As he sat back a face appeared on the screen. His own face.
“Yes, Howard, if s me. I’ve come to help you in your hour of need.”
Karr staggered and almost fell. The smell of chrysanthemums was so overpowering that it felt as though he were breathing cotton wool. And the brightness of everything! As Chen came through, he almost fell against Karr, then straightened, looking about him wide-eyed, like an animal that has fallen into the steel mesh of a trap.
The rasp of Chen’s breath was like the sound of an iron bar
grating against a rock
“Where are we?”
The words boomed at Karr.
“I don’t...” Karr stopped abruptly, his eyes focusing on what lay on the bed.
“Aiya” he groaned.
Chen turned, then gave a cry of pain. “Oh, gods ...” Kim lay on the bed, naked and unmoving. His eyes were open, but they saw nothing. His hands and feet were bound with wire, his flesh so white and waxen that it seemed to glow, but in the middle of his forehead was a single bright red hole, like the hole a worm might have made in an apple. Chen dropped his gun and fell to his knees, beginning to retch. Karr stared a moment, mesmerised - horrified - by the sight, then turned. Where was K.? Where ...?
He took two steps then saw him, hanging from the light-fitting in the tiny bathroom. A piece of wire had been tightened round his throat. His eyes bulged, but like Kim’s they saw nothing.
The sight emptied him; took away his courage. Thinking of Jelka, he groaned, wondering how he would ever break the news to her.
Oh, he had seen men die before, and broken the news to more widows than he cared to remember, but this ...
This was the death of hope.
His head swam. Something was wrong here. It felt like he’d been drugged. Behind him Chen retched and retched, the sound and the smell of it so awful it made him gag himself.
Dreaming ... he had to be dreaming. Forcing himself he walked across and touched the limp hand that dangled at K.’s side. It was cold; colder than anything he had ever touched, but real.
He shivered. Out He had to get out.
Karr stumbled back, almost falling over his friend, then turned. He took a step towards the hoop, then stopped dead, realising with a start that it had gone. He whirled about, turning full circle, staring wildly at the walls, certain that there must have been a mistake, but the air was empty, the gateway closed. “Kuan Yin preserve us!”
Chen looked up, wide-eyed. “Gregor?”
“The gate ...”
Chen turned to look, then gave a whimper of fear. Karr stared at his friend, astonished, then understood. Kao Chen’s worst fear had just come to pass, and the poor man was petrified. The thought of it dispelled Karr’s own fears. It was up to him now.
“Kao Chen,” he said, speaking as a commander speaks to one of his foot-soldiers, “stand up!”
Chen struggled up onto his feet, then glanced at Karr uncertainly. But Karr was staring back at him sternly.
“Good. Now pick up your gun, Major Kao. We’ve work to do.”
As DeVore’s glide touched down on the southern edge of Tientsin spaceport, his assistant, Gemma, patched through to him again. “Well?” he asked unceremoniously, raising a hand to ensure that Wyatt, who sat beside him on the long, luxurious seat, kept silent. “Do we know what’s happening?”
She smiled confidently. “It looks like there’s been a concerted effort to stabilise the markets, sir. A lot of buying at highly inflated prices. Companies taking massive losses with no thought to their own economic survival. Eco-altruism, as one of our brokers has termed it” “And do we know who owns these companies?”
She hesitated, then, frowning, shook her head. “No, sir. As far as we can tell, they’re subsidiaries. But who owns them...”
“Get someone on it Jenner, maybe. Or King, he’s good at burrowing into other peoples’ databases. I want to know who’s behind this. I want a name, you got me?”
“Sir!”
As the screen blanked, he turned and looked to Wyatt “What do you think?”
But Wyatt seemed as nonplussed as the woman. “I don’t know. I can’t see why anyone should do it Why, looking at those figures, I’d say that whoever it was must have sustained massive losses. Twenty, thirty billion, maybe more.” He paused, then shook his head. “I don’t know about you, Howard, but I can’t think of a single financier in the market who could take that kind of beating and survive. So why do it?”
“To beat me, thaf s why.”
Wyatt laughed. “But no one knows. ..” He stopped, seeing the look on DeVore’s face. “You don’t think ...?”
“Think what, Edmund? That you betrayed me, perhaps? That you’ve been feeding insider information to one of my enemies?”
Wyatt laughed, but he was clearly uncomfortable. “You can’t be serious, Howard. How long have we known each other? Forty years? And you think I’d do something like that to you?”
“I don’t know,” DeVore said coldly. “But I’m going to fucking well find out. And when I do ...”
The screen clicked on again. DeVore turned back, finding himself looking at his Head of Security, Hart. The man looked troubled. “What is it, Don?”
“Those men you wanted sent to the apartment building in Beijing...” “What of them?”
“They’re dead, thaf s what. They stumbled across a couple of assassins in the lobby. The local police have the place surrounded. I thought. ..” “Don’t think,” DeVore said, interrupting him, “just get on to the Head of Police... his name’s Ch’ang San... and tell him not to precipitate anything until I get back I don’t want any of his men going in there, guns blazing, you understand? Containment” “But what if he says no?” “Then that big fat cheque he gets every month isn’t going to arrive anymore. You understand?” Hart grinned. “I understand, sir.” “Then see to it” DeVore sat back, sighing deeply. “Just what the fuck is going on?” he glanced sideways at Wyatt, but Wyatt was brooding, chewing on a thumbnail thoughtfully. “I said,” DeVore repeated, raising his voice, “just what the fuck is going on?” “A player,” Wyatt said after a moment “Someone you pissed off years ago, but who’s kept a low profile all this time. Someone who’s been waiting to pay you back.” “Are you talking about yourself now, Edmund?” Wyatt looked to him and glared. “Leave it Howard. Okay?” DeVore raised a hand. “Okay. I believe you. But fuck it someone must have let slip, and who knows more than you?” Wyatf s eyes narrowed suddenly, as if he suddenly saw it “Your AI. Your so-called discreet system.”