"Got our out ready to go, Trubble. They're using one of the reserve cables to pump water to the surface, though it's just to buy time. But that's our way out: got mini-subs ready to deploy. 'Be like water,' ain't that the saying?"
"You bet your ass it is. Get going — we'll meet up at the rendezvous. You'll get the second half of the payment when we're out of the Haven."
As he headed for the exit, I looked over at Luthor Vitto. Just like Greco, he hadn't always been on my good side. But any misgivings over the couple of times I'd busted his face were forgiven when I gave him a clean way out of the loan sharking business and into the lucrative business of fund management: namely, my funds. I'd built a profitable network of shadow deals and hostile takeovers, and Vitto was just the man to handle the tedious details to keep things legitimate. He was a much better asset manager than he ever was a petty criminal.
"How are things on your end?"
"I've got your funds liquidated, divided, and currently transferring into accounts across the Territories. Took some losses converting from New Haven dibs to interchangeable bullion currency, but you'll absorb the hit from the real estate you own."
"Yeah, if there's anything worth salvaging from the flood."
"The building materials are pretty resilient here, Mick. Gotta be, considering where this place was built." He looked upward, as if he could see the watery surroundings through the roof. "Still a shocker even after you warned us."
"Suck it up, Ace. We still got work to do."
"Bloody hell." Lord Troll removed the goggles, a worried expression on his narrow, tattooed face.
"What is it?"
"I'm getting a constant message from Officer Luzzatti's number to yours. You haven’t been receiving them since you asked me to block your holoband."
"Yeah, I remember."
"Well, you're gonna want to take this."
I groaned. "Why do I get the feeling this ain't gonna be good news?"
The message was just four menacing words on the screen that stabbed a blade of fear deep into my chest.
I HAVE THE GIRL
Heat scalded my face. "Her holoband still open?"
"Yeah."
I tapped the ID with trembling fingers. Kilgore's face immediately sprang up on the holographic screen, impassive as a mannequin. "About time, Mike. I'm forwarding this from Natasha's band to mine. She's too tied up at the moment to accept your call."
I was so bent I could barely enunciate the words. "You just signed your death warrant, Kilgore."
If he was bothered by the threat, it didn't show. "I told you earlier — I hate the cliché aspect of threatening to kill your loved ones, but you forced my hand. I know you were at the Luzzatti and disappeared off-grid. Some spy-proof safe house, I'm guessing. I know that you came out with a bio-storage box in hand, something important enough to leave a deadly woman like Selene high and dry. Something passed on to you by Faraday, no doubt. I want it, so I took something that you wanted. You had to call the girl, didn't you? I couldn't trace you, so I kept tabs on her. She seems important to you, Mike. So, don't force me to damage her. We don't want a repeat of the Maxine scenario, do we?"
My teeth clenched tight enough to ache. "No."
"Good. Then we make an exchange. I'm at the Spire. Come immediately with the case and come alone."
"Not good enough. Who's to say you won't kill Natasha for spite?"
"I say. My word is good, Mike."
"Your word is trash, Kilgore. I bring a partner who takes care of Natasha, or the deal is off."
"You'd let the girl die?"
"She's already dead as far as I know."
He sighed in a bored manner. "She's alive. Take a look."
The camera panned to where Natasha stood bound and gagged, trying desperately to appear unafraid. The fear glistening in her eyes spoke otherwise. Two guards in full riot gear were positioned on either side of her, gripping plasma rifles: repurposed synoids or crooked cops Kilgore greased up for extracurricular work. Wherever he was, he probably had a full squad on hand. Had to give it to the man: he always had a plan.
His face reappeared. "Proof of life, Mike. But not for long."
"My demand doesn't change. We both know this is a trap. Natasha walks. I bring a partner. He leaves with her — I stay with the storage case, or the deal is off."
"No deal means she dies. You won't let that happen."
I said nothing, staring at the screen.
He leaned closer. Slowly, very slowly, he removed the aviator shades. His irises were purple, glowing as if heated by lavender fires. "So, you would let it happen. Glad to have you back, Michael. Very welclass="underline" bring your Indian friend with you if you must. Only him. If I spot anyone else, you'll have another corpse to put in the closet with the rest of your skeletons. If she can fit."
My fists clenched. "I'll have to come on foot. Floaters are grounded, and the streets are too packed to drive."
"Take the tram. I'm sure your bioroid partner can work out something. There's a rail that leads all the way to the Spire. I'll be watching, Mike. No extras or I blow the tram before you even set foot in the Spire. You have thirty minutes."
The transmission clicked off. I turned to my crew, who stared back with concerned expressions. If I read their faces right, they were more concerned with their immediate futures than my predicament.
I gave them my best devil-may-care grin. "Change of plans, boys. You all continue as planned. If I don't show up on time, get the hell outta here and enjoy your new lives in the Territories."
Greco ran fingers through his ultra-slick hair. "What about you, boss?"
"You heard the man. I got a date at the Spire. Don't wait up."
"You don't want some of us to come with? There's gotta be a way to—"
"To do what? We were compromised when I took the call. Kilgore will have eyes on me the second I walk outta here. And there's no time to formulate a plan. This is it, understand? There's no clean exit for me. Probably never was. I'll see you on the other side or I won't. Either way, our business here is concluded."
I glanced at Lord Troll. "Can you still get a secure call out from here?"
"You know I can."
I checked the settings on the HFM on my left arm. "Good. Call Agent Kessler. Tell him to activate the failsafe above the Spire in half an hour. He'll know what you're talking about. Then I'll need your help securing an insurance policy on this bio-storage case."
"Insurance policy? You planning on going somewhere?"
I hesitated. "Never hurts to plan for the worst."
Poddar limped through the haze of smoke like a phantom, emerging from the screams and cries of the broken city behind him. His face was hardened, his unbandaged eye grieved. I knew he suffered from more than his previous injuries. Something happened that cut him deeper than any weapon could.
I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Kilby?"
He nodded, gaze dropping. "I … found her. Like the others. Like the synoids. Just … gone." His voice cut off, and a tear slid down his face. "How is that possible? I knew her. We had a life before we came to the Haven. That can't have been just a—"
"It was, Poddar. It was implanted into your memory. You must have desperately wanted to escape from something, and the head games were the cost of entry into the Haven. Like all the other refugees, you were given a new backstory and a synoid partner for an incentive to stay."
He looked up, eyes raw. "Why? What does Faraday get from all of this?"
"An intimate examination of human consciousness. A study of the effects of trauma. A chance to play God. All of the above, probably."
"Then why the hell are you helping him?"
I sighed. "I gotta believe that this is all for a reason. I was the worst kind of man, Poddar. But in his own twisted way, Faraday changed that. He could have easily killed me, but he saw something. Potential, he said."