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Death.
What a freak.
“I won’t insult you by asking what it will cost to make this stop. Why don’t you tell me what you want?”
Anarchy.
I sigh.
That’s real helpful.
“What do you want from me?”
Fear.
“You’re tempting fate, whoever you are. I will find you.”
We’re not afraid. Are you?
I don’t have a smart answer to that, and before I can think of one the screen goes blank. After another second, circuits crackle with electrical fire and smoke starts to pour out.
Fuck!
The van’s self-destructing. I grab Kate, sling her over my back and carry her out.
“Get an extinguisher!” I shout at my mercenaries, but it’s too late. Fires catch from numerous compartments in the vehicle. Within a minute the blaze rages, destroying whatever evidence might have been found inside. Though, considering the competence of these people, I doubt we would have found anything.
I free Kate’s ankles so she can walk but leave her hands cuffed. She takes long, deep breaths as I guide her through the mess of dead bodies. Once we’re back at my car, I call for clean vehicles to pick us up. The Anarchists could still be watching.
A quick examination shows no obvious injury to Kate; she’s shaken up, but there’s no blood on her. Thanks to thick covers protecting the chain guns, the noise didn’t even hurt her hearing.
“Talk, Kate. Start from the beginning. Leave out nothing.”
She looks down at her lap, expression blank. Is she traumatized? She’s been through some tough situations and survived them. She’s even been taken captive before, and she’s spent months in her own personal hell. I suppose she’s never seen two dozen dead mercenaries before — that could affect anyone, even a person with Kate’s mental fortitude.
“Kate, if you’re dealing with some shit you need to straighten the fuck out right now. I’m not in the mood.”
“Your people were walking me to the car. Then someone shot them,” she says. “Then the men in the van grabbed me.”
She’s left out the part about not exiting from the loading dock — has she not figured out the fire there was part of the plan? Whatever, it’s not important.
“Go on.”
“They drove me here,” Kate continues. “They said they weren’t going to hurt me, that this was about someone else.”
How chivalrous of Death.
“What did they say about the Masters?”
“Nothing.”
It’s impossible to believe Anarchy, Inc. doesn’t know about us. They killed Timo and Lincoln with the weapons they stole from me, then used Kate to ambush me. That’s no coincidence.
“How many were there?”
“Three. Maybe four. They blindfolded me. I didn’t see. And they used voice synthesizers.”
As expected.
