Chapter 24: Oligarch

“What the fuck are you doing about it?”

“Working on it,” growled Sanchez in response.

“The fuck does that even mean?”

“I’m not just sitting here with my thumb up my ass if that’s what you think.”

Miya rested her head against the wall behind her as the bickering continued. After the attack on the Arena, Sanchez ran her ragged healing the wounded. Healing one man like Tod she could do, even injured muscle instead of bone. Instead, Sanchez dropped her in front of half a dozen men with a variety of flesh wounds, both gunshot and claw, and expected her to wave her hands and make it all go away. Bone breaks and fractures she could, granted, though that was the least of the worries for most of them. Healing feral wounds. Maybe I’ll get to be an astronaut next. Why not?

Sanchez, his wife Jessica Sanchez, Tod, Otto, and Omar circled around the same conference table the Overlord mercenary had brought Miya to her first night. Sanchez stood at the head, knuckles resting on the glass tabletop as he leaned his weight onto the sturdy furniture. The others spread out around it in high backed chairs. Miya skulked off in a corner of the room, keeping out of sight and out of mind.

“We’re pulling Otto and his family out of their old safehouse. This right here is now the safest place we’ve got,” continued Sanchez. “If they hit anywhere else they aren’t going to find shit.”

“What are we looking at?” demanded Omar. “This isn’t the cops. We’d have seen them coming a mile away.”

“The feral, the vigilante, and two MHU cops. I think they’re wanted. Otto, you work your magic?”

“Amanda Broussard and Christopher Anderson,” replied Otto, spreading out a file on the table in front of them. Despite his own office now a shambles and his main operation broken, he remained the image of calm and dispassionate control. Miya pushed off of the wall and slunk up behind Sanchez, getting a look at the pictures. She saw a pair of smiling employee headshots, as well as a few grainy images from a security camera. Creepy grinning mask, giant girl with wings. Good to know.

“That’s where those two wound up. What are those bad cops wanted for?” asked Sanchez.

“You think there might be a problem we could help them with if they back off?” asked Omar, receiving a curt nod from Sanchez in return.

“Is this a problem we can throw money at?” added Jess with a laugh. Omar shot her a look of disgust.

“Not that we can tell,” replied Otto. “Marcus has stepped up as the new head of the MHU, the Mayor rubber-stamped it yesterday. He seems to think they’re our rats.”

Sanchez burst into laughter. “Alright! Doesn’t help us with our vigilante problem but if the MHU is wasting time barking up the wrong tree that’s no skin off my back. What can they do?”

“According to their MHU files, she’s a techie, good with electronics.” Otto motioned to the picture on the left, of a woman with dark, short cut hair and a forced, impatient smile. “He can turn into liquid. He can’t be hurt physically while changed, but they think he’s flammable.” Otto tapped the picture of a blocky headed man with blond hair and blue eyes. Cops. Knowing my luck, those two are gonna shoot at Sanchez and murder me instead.

“Think?” asked Tod.

“He didn’t want to find out the hard way and explode.” Fair enough.

“We can’t buy some crazy fire miracle gas from Noble, can we?”

“He’s not returning our calls,” said Otto with a shake of his head.

“Of course not,” grunted Sanchez. “I might have to give him a chat myself. Oh well, fire isn’t hard to come by. And the techie? What can we use against her?”

“We’re taking everything offline until we deal with her one way or the other.”

“You talk with that Lock Corp guy about her?” Miya glanced at the back of Sanchez’s shaved head. Lock Corp? What are they doing mixed up in this? Isn’t Overlord the sugar daddy here?

“Yes, offline was his advice. He was confident he could counter any flavor of electronic warfare she could bring to bear if she was denied easy access online. We should, however, be careful of using any cell phone or radios, we’re not certain if she can decrypt as well as intercept signals.” Huh?

“Against a techie? He’s just a dude,” commented Jess.

“Lock Corp only builds and employs the best, he told me,” replied Otto, not bothering to look at her fully. Miya fought back a smile at the slight hint of frustration in his voice. She backed away, out of the potential blast radius if things grew heated, and pretended to study the handful of fluffy clouds drifting over the mountains through the tinted windows.

Sanchez grunted in agreement. “I trust him. Lock Corp hasn't let us down yet.”

“Have they?” asked Tod. “I could have told you to unplug everything.”

“And then what?” asked Omar.

“Then find and kill her,” replied Tod, as if that were obvious.

“Like how you found the feral?” asked Jess. Please don’t do that again. You’ll get fucked up and I’ll get blamed somehow. Miya, you're the doctor, fix this pile of ground beef.

Tod’s face flushed deep red. “You wanna say that again,” he repeated, half rising out of his chair. “Some of us actually put their necks out for the business.”

Unfazed, Jess replied, “I’m just saying that maybe we try a different tactic instead of the exact same thing.”

Sanchez shot her a look before turning to Tod and saying, “They’re going to come to us.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Tod’s hostile gaze lingered on Jess for a moment before he replied, “That’s not a good place to be.” Yeah, agreed, I’m here too.

“The others are combing the streets, don’t you worry. We’re not sitting still, even here. Once we have them, then we’ll be on the offensive.”

“The Bratva smells blood. Tattoos are crossing streets they shouldn't be crossing,” pointed out Omar. Bratva? The Russian mob? I didn’t know they had a hold in Westward.

“I’ll tell Jaime’s crew to get their asses into gear along your territory. They can do whatever they want on our side. If Galina wants to play, they know to call me.”

“Ain’t Jaime guarding your house?” asked Tod.

“It’ll be fine,” replied Sanchez with a wave of his hand. “Temporary.”

Omar nodded, satisfied. Miya dropped the pretense of not eavesdropping and returned to the table, taking an unoccupied seat far from anyone else. Only Jess bothered to glance in her direction. With the short range on the controller kept Miya near Sanchez at all times, the others grew used to ignoring her presence.

Sanchez continued to Tod, “Once we get them where we want them we’ll hit them, and you’ll be the tip of that spear. You want another go at that feral?”

“You think you can handle it this time around?” asked Omar. Jess barely suppressed a snort behind him.

“Yeah,” replied Tod, neck tensing for a moment. “Me and the guys have got a plan. And guns, didn’t use enough of those last time around. It’s big and scary, but it don’t know how to fight, just attack”

“It flies. How the fuck are we supposed to see it coming?” asked Omar. “During the day? Sure, that’s easy. But at night? It ain’t putting out radar signals or whatever it is that Lock Corp guy is doing.”

“Is it?”

“Think they’re controlling it?” asked Jess, motioning to Miya.

Miya looked up as the conversation ground to a halt, all eyes on her. She scratched at a surgical scar, now healed, at the base of her skull beneath her stubble. One day I’ll have a full head of hair again. Stubble is so ugly, everyone keeps staring at it.

“I was under the knife for months,” Miya replied. “And I get the feeling Overlord thought I was a failed experiment. It’s also magic control, not mind control. I was immaterial. If Overlord can’t get that right, I don’t see how a couple random people can.”

“Sounds like a no.”

“Do we know how to get those bits out of me yet?” asked Miya.

“Later,” said Sanchez with a wave of his hand. Miya bit back a retort, flopping back in her seat. Please, for the love of god, stop giving me the run around.

“So we won’t be able to see the damn feral coming at night,” explained Omar.

“We can’t, but can the Overlord bot?” Sanchez asked the table.

After a quiet moment as they considered, Tod asked, “The freaky one next to your office?”

“Yeah. It’s just sitting there. It’s not doing anything.”

“Can we order it around?” asked Jess. “Is that something we can just do?”

Sanchez shrugged. “It’s worth a shot. Tell it to get up on the roof, watch the skies, and let us know if it spots the damn feral.”

The others around the table exchanged looks. Miya shrank as low as she could in her oversized chair, until her eyes were near level with the table top. I’m not getting anywhere near that thing. Absolutely not. I don’t care if it’s human shaped.

Solid Tod, true to his name, broke the silence. “Alright, I’ll give it a shot.”

Sanchez nodded. “Good. Take a couple guys with you. Just in case.”

“Yeah,” Tod grumbled as he rose from his chair and lumbered out of the room, doing his best to avoid looking at either Jess or Miya.

The group dispersed after Tod’s exit. Otto gathered up his papers, giving Jess a polite if disinterested nod as she tried to chatter to him about potential city wide water restrictions. Miya followed Sanchez out the side door, towards his office. As he poured himself a stiff drink from the finely carved liquor cabinet against the wall by his desk, Miya slipped off to the corner of the room. She claimed one of the pair of armchairs around a low desk, sinking into the soft cushions. I want one of these. The soft hiss of well oiled hinges caught her ear as Omar followed them in, making sure to close the door behind him.

“I’m good,” said Omar with a wave of his hand, as Sanchez offered him a glass. “Wanted to talk with you.”

“Something on your mind?”

“Jess.” Omar opened and closed his mouth, thinking. Oh boy. Miya shrank down in her seat once more. Don’t look at me, I have no opinions about the bitch.

“What about her?”

Omar shrugged and reluctantly said, “You can’t keep bringing her to these things, man.”

“What do you mean I can’t?” asked Sanchez, voice deadly calm. Miya eyed the pair of them. Unlike Tod or Sanchez, Omar didn’t shop at the big and tall section of the clothing store. That didn’t stop him from dissecting a man with his fists in the Arena, the one time Miya had visited.

“What does she add? I know her daddy is rich. I know he’s a good business partner, but man, what does she have to say?” insisted Omar.

Sanchez finished off his whisky with a single swig. “Come on, man. Every person in that room has thicker skin than that. Everyone has taken worse. You can take a little needling.”

“Every damn time? There’s only so much a man can take before he’s got to respond. You know this. You look at Tod and tell me he’s happy when she’s in the room.”

“He hasn’t said anything. He’s a big boy, if he has a problem he’ll say it.”

“With you or me? Sure. With a woman? Tod is just going to take it in silence until he blows up. You know how he is.” I want to see his arm again, now that I think about it. I’m pretty sure I saw a tattoo of a heart with a name crossed off on it. Those are always funny.

“This isn’t the Army anymore. I can’t just give marching orders. She gets pissed off and tells daddy, we’ve got a bunch of guys shit out of luck and looking for work. Still his name on the building.”

“I know. But we need to have our shit together, or we’re fucked. The more people we got to deal with up top? The worse it gets.”

The pair shot simultaneous glances towards Miya.

“Out,” Sanchez commanded.

I guess they haven't forgotten about me. Without a word, Miya hopped out of the chair and left. Her shoulders slumped as she found herself alone in the conference room with a bored looking Jess. She looked up from toying with a lock of bleached blonde hair and flashed a too-wide smile at Miya.

“Hey, girl! You’re looking a lot better. When those evil robots brought you in I thought for sure you’d be out for a month.”

“Thanks,” replied Miya.

“I know the hubby has been running you around with your magic-y stuff. Gotta take care of yourself sometime.”

“Yeah.” Like I have a choice. Did you know? Did you care? Or are you just talking?

“You were skin and bones and you can’t be more than five feet. Girl, that isn’t healthy”

Thanks for the reminder. “I'm only half an inch shy,” grumbled Miya.

“Once you get your hair grown out we’ll get you a day at the hairdressers or something. My treat.”

Oh god oh fuck. If Miya’s apprehension showed on her face, Jess made no sign of noticing. The silence stretched on for only a moment before she spoke up again.

“God, they’re idiots sometimes. 'Just kill them,' he says,” she said, shaking her head. “I know they’re old buddies but that kind of stupidity is contagious.”

Miya shrugged. Nope, nope. Not touching mob drama with a ten foot pole. Nope. She’s not even good at this.

“So what were they talking about in-”

She cut off as the front door opened. Tod surveyed the room, and took only a moment to choose between Jess and Miya. “Hey, where’s boss?” he asked Miya.

“Talking with Omar, it seemed important,” she replied, keeping her answer curt. Maybe he likes directness. I could use an ally here.

He nodded and grunted, “Robot’s good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I told it to look out for a big flying feral. It looked at me with its freaky scream face for a couple seconds, then walked up the stairs. I followed it all the way to the roof.”

“Told?” asked Miya.

He shrugged. “Asked.”

“That easy? Huh,” replied Miya.

“Yeah, I know what the fuck I’m doing,” shot back Tod. Whoops. His fists clenched, and Miya came to the crashing realization his arm was as thick around as her chest.

I’ve got to get out of here.

***

Thunder shook the building, as the brewing storm descended from the mountain slopes that night. Miya hovered off to the side of Sanchez’s office, the room heavy with tension. Guards kept to their floor, no one wandering off lest they be picked off.

Tod leaned his head in through the door. “The bot reported in. The feral is circling.”

Sanchez rose from his desk, shrugging off his suit jacket. “Buckle up.”