He woke with a sensation of
falling. His hand went for his waist to draw a weapon, but he stopped himself.
He wasn’t in any danger; he was just uncomfortable.
His thick chin has slipped off
his sweaty palm. His heavy head momentarily unsupported as he nodded off, he
awoke suddenly with a start. It was getting near siesta and he had a hard time
keeping his eyes open. In the corner of his office the sound of a fan was
lulling him back to a dreamless sleep almost as soon as he had been shaken
awake. His chin once again rested on his open hand, his elbow on his desk.
Before dozing off again, he shook
himself awake and stood. The heat was stifling, his crotch was wet and sweat
pooled in his shirt above his belly in his deep chest cleft. The air
conditioning had been down since yesterday and the morning’s cold air had
dissipated; now the sun’s relentless rise was starting to make his office
unbearable. He just wanted to go back to his apartment and sleep the heat away.
With any luck, the ventilation system would be repaired this afternoon. ‘Luck’,
he snorted. When was the last time he had had any of that, he wondered?
The trideo interface chimed on
his desk. The call he had been waiting for, the call he had suffered this heat
to answer, was now coming through, and he hesitated. A cold chill ran up his
spin, giving an unwelcome mix of sensations. He sat down again and delicately
flipped the receiver on. He saw reassuring strings of numbers encrypting the
message and finally, when the system had concluded its job, it formed a
picture.
“Report,” the woman’s three
dimensional shape ordered without preamble, her long auburn hair disappearing
below the truncated bust the trideo revealed.
Wallcraft wiped his head. Unaccustomed
to be barked at or being nervous, he felt the heat and his discomfort ever more
acutely. “Well, the job is done, as you probably know. WestCorp is gone, the
records are all destroyed and now with Bardwick and the contractor eliminated,
there ain’t no links left to project... uhh, Tantalus.”
“What about the Caravan Guild? Will
they retaliate? The Mekong has a reputation for being
irksome.” She said evenly.
Wallcraft shifted a bit. “I got
the Spyder’s OK to annoy the Guild. If they decide to take it personal like,
then he’ll cool them down some, you rest assured. We ain’t got anything to fear
from Chambers.”
“And the Kolsons? Is your cover
protected?” She asked.
Wallcraft had been a Kolson
before being the Bear’s agent and before she ever came into the picture.
He resented her tone but fear kept him in check. Fear of her or the Bear
finding out about the two guys who came looking for Arens. People who knew that
Wallcraft had loyalties to someone other than the Kolson clan. “Yeah, I’m fine
there. In order to get a deal with the Spyder, I made him an offer to invest in
the Lucky Shot casino along with the Forzi and Granis. It’s a cash cow for the
Spyder if the Kolsons cut in on Chamber’s action there. Well, that means...”
“I’m not interested. Do whatever
you have to do. Screw whomever you need to. I can’t be bothered with your
little machinations, so be sure I do not become bothered by them. Do you
understand me? Do not fail me, Wallcraft.” He image flickered and disappeared
without another word.
‘Rude little bitch,’ he thought
to himself. He was confident that he wouldn’t need to deal with her again for
some time. With every tie to Project Jezebel eliminated from public record and
every agent dead, he could sit back and continue enjoying the life of a Kolson
don in Khayr ad-Din.
He wiped his face on his sleeve
and sighed in disgust. He was going to enjoy a good nap in the comfort of his
climate-controlled apartment. In fact, he decided he was taking the rest of the
day off; no one could tell him otherwise. Being boss had its perks.
Heavy Gear Roleplaying Game
0 comments :
Post a Comment