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Enforcement Special Response Unit
Outside CommTECH Research Facility
Houston, Northern Territory
“The research mainframe with the backup data is on sublevel five,” Daniel Mercer told his twin. “Sublevels three through five are alarmed and fitted with blast doors. We would know if someone entered that section of the building.”
He looked up from the building plans he’d been studying on his datapad to find his twin standing out in the open. He faced the building, feet apart, arms folded, face blank—a visible challenge to Freedom.
But he was listening to every word Daniel said. “If the anti-missile grid over the terrace wasn’t still functioning, we could blast them off the building.” Charles looked as though he was trying to figure out a way to do it anyway.
“Shepherd doesn’t care about casualties, but she does care about her company’s reputation.” Daniel nodded his head toward the cameras floating at the perimeter line. “If we blow up Keiko Sato on the news, it would be bad press.”
Charles didn’t care about the press—or anything else, for that matter. All Daniel’s twin cared about was getting what he wanted. Every situation was a negotiation. He would only do what Shepherd wanted for a price. But the price was never exacted from anyone but Daniel. It was how they’d always done things.
“What’s the plan?” Charles kept his eyes on the building, as though he was trying to see inside it. Who knew what went on in his brother’s head?
“We take a team. We go floor to floor until all targets are eliminated.”
“Time-consuming.” In other words, the plan took too long to get to the good part—the killing. “What’s your backup plan?”
“Two teams.” Daniel had kept his preferred plan as his backup, knowing full well that Charles would veto whatever his first suggestion happened to be. “We go straight to the terrace and hit it with a bigger team while the second team works their way up the building, sweeping for strays.”
At last, his twin turned to face him. There was no expression on his face; there never was—only a cold, calculated intelligence. “My payment is Keiko Sato.”
And there it was. Time to pay the beast. Daniel had been paying the beast his whole life. It was the only way to ensure they both survived. Otherwise, Charles would have taken him down,
along with himself, long ago.
“Take someone else. You can have the Freedom leader.” Someone, anyone, who was guilty. Not an innocent like Keiko. Never one of those.
“No.” He was implacable.
Daniel confronted his mirror image. “Shepherd will want Keiko alive, if we can manage it.” The fact that they weren’t meant to put any effort into saving the press secretary was neither here nor there.
“I want her.” Charles’s voice was steel.
Daniel felt a cold flicker of dread creep up his spine. He knew that tone. There was no arguing with his twin now.
All he could do was demand a concession. “Somewhere away from cameras.”
Charles inclined his head and turned back to the building. Their discussion was over, at least for him. Nothing else interested him, now that they’d agreed on the payment made between twins. The payment extracted in order to let Daniel carry on living and pretending he was normal. Pretending he wasn’t half of the feared Mercer twins. The half that wasn’t a psychopath who reveled in death.
Daniel signaled to the Enforcement commander that it was time to gear up. There was nothing he could do for Keiko Sato now. Her fate had been sealed the moment Freedom had stormed the building. Now, all he could hope was that Freedom gave her a swift death.
Before his twin got his hands on her and gave her his brand of dying.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Mace climbed back out onto the ledge of the sixty-seventh floor. This time, there was no spotlight to blind him—and no Keiko beside him, an omission that made his gut clench. He’d been receiving updates from his bat and knew she was bound and gagged, kneeling on the platform, waiting for death. According to the bat, she’d volunteered for her death. The bat thought she’d been noble. Mace thought he was going to smack her backside until she couldn’t sit down for doing something that dumb.
Save mate, the bat said for about the millionth time. Apparently, the flying rodent thought he needed regular reminders to keep him on track.
I know she’s tiny, but she isn’t a bat. She’s a woman. You need to take your horny ass over to Waugh Bridge and pick up a female bat. And, for the record, bats don’t mate for life. They’re horndogs.
At least, he didn’t think they did. He should probably do some research on bats, seeing as he was stuck with one. And yeah, it’d taken him three years to admit that the fur ball wasn’t just going to fly away and let him get on with his new life.
We mate for life, the bat said smugly. It’s a part of our new mixed genetics.
