The meeting was in the evening, so they had a whole day to prepare. Good thing, because it also left them a whole day to recover from all that drinking. They got their gear in order, went over the plan together, and Freel got his hands on a scorcher bomb.

It was a hell of a thing to be carrying around, especially given how big it needed to be. Between how dangerous they were, and their well-known role in erasing evidence, the law cracked down hard on possession. But he only picked it up three hours before they set off, and he was careful to pick routes well away from anyplace official.

By the time he touched the Dragon down on Jakino’s roof again, it had been fully dark for two hours, and Freel was feeling better about this whole thing by the minute.

Replaceable, am I?

That stupid android was there to greet them, in its predictable, pre-programmed way, and Freel reminded himself to shoot the damn thing as they left. Or maybe he would throw it off the roof, as he’d fantasised about.

“I can’t even sum up why I hate you,” he said as the greeter walked with them to the stairs. “You just suck in general, plastic-pile.”

“Enjoy your stay,” it said. As always. Maybe it would let it out one last time as it plummeted down into the Great Gorge.

“Aha.”

Freel looked at Yules and Kreb. They looked a bit nervous, especially Yules. But he didn’t think they would falter. Not with ninety plates of melaurum within their reach.

“So…” Yules said. “The plan…”

“Shut your damn mouth, Yules,” Freel said. There was no telling what kind of equipment might be listening in.

Of course, faltering and fucking up were two different things. But for those ninety plates, Freel was willing to take chances.

He touched the patch on his neck, to assure himself that it was still firmly in place. Just in case it would be needed.

They started that long walk to the boss’s office area. There was the wide, high-ceilinged hallway, with its mysterious balconies. There were the transparent walls with the swirling colours, and then the forest of high marble pillars. And finally they were at the fancy double-doors.

“Freel,” one of the two guards said. “You’re definitely not expected this time.”

He smirked a little.

“Maybe not ever again.”

“Well, I am here to change that,” Freel said, even as he imagined punching the prick where it really hurt. “I know who the stranger is. The guy who’s been causing all that trouble.”

“Do you really?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing while you guys have been standing here, shifting weight from one foot to the other? I’ve been working.”

“Then who is he?.”

“I’ll tell the boss, thank you.”

The guard pointed behind himself, at the door.

“The big meeting is on. Or didn’t you hear?”

“I heard. But I know, and you know, that he’ll want this piece of news as fast as possible. I’ll tell him as soon as the meeting ends. Now quit wasting time.”

“Oh, whatever. I look forward to seeing how this goes wrong for you.”

Freel gave him a hateful smile, and walked on through.

“Just wait somewhere around here,” he said to Yules, for the sake of anyone or anything that might be listening. “We’ll go see the boss.”

“Alright!” the man replied, with his typical attempt at swagger. “Have fun with the boss!”

Yules leaned up against a doorframe, and watched them continue on with a big shiny grin on his face.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Why does he think he’s funny?

Freel and Kreb passed by the mini-hallways. A couple of doors were open. One of them led to a break room for the guards. They rotated fairly frequently to stay fresh, and tonight there was an unusual number of them in there. That of course meant an unusual number of guards on active duty, but Freel had already known to expect that.

They’d been moving slowly to buy time, but it wasn’t enough, and so he stepped inside.

“Hey, boys and girls. Is everything in order?”

Eight bored-looking folks looked up at the two of them.

“Aren’t you the street guy?” one asked.

“I am the street guy, yes,” Freel said stiffly. “And I’m here with some street business. I just want to be sure that everything’s in order. Big deal meeting, and all that.”

“Everything’s fine,” another one said, between sipping from a metal flask. “Just a bunch of crime aristocrats talking about stuff other than pay raises. What’s not to love?”

He got a couple of cynical snorts from the table.

“Keeping busy,” Yules said through their earpiece channel.

It was the code for him being at the security station. He was decent at getting into places, and the station normally wasn’t manned. Normally. Yules wasn’t some master assassin, but killing people who didn’t see it coming was easy if you had the tools and the will.

“Oh?” Freel said, for the sake of yet more time. “You don’t think we’ll get a little slice of the wider-scale pie?”

“Oh, come on. Working with the Devil Star Cartel? I’m sure it’s great for bosses and big-time movers, but there’s always more folks like us. Never any reason to pay us more, when you can afford to get rid of people who-”

One guard touched his earpiece with a look of sudden alertness, and the others took note.

“What?” Freel said, in order to stick to his role of innocence.

“Possible breach,” the one guard said. “Signal from the far elevator.”

Freel put on a concerned look. Everyone put down drinks and snacks and picked up guns, and got going. The group left the break room, and Freel and Kreb discreetly made sure they ended up near the back of the whole thing. They did move along as the guards started heading for the supposed breach, then moved just slowly enough to end up last.

There had never been an actual breach. Something was finally happening for these idiots to get involved with. As such, it was no surprise that no one noticed Freel and Kreb staying behind close to the office.

A few more people came from postings elsewhere to join the crowd. A few seconds later, Freel and Kreb were alone.

“Let’s do it,” Freel said through a gleeful grin.

The office was unlocked and empty, but that was still no reason to be sloppy. They closed the door carefully, then Freel headed straight for the prize while Kreb headed for the desk.

The safe was hidden behind one of the pelts, which he pushed aside like a set of drapes. The wall was partly flux-capable, like the floor, and opened at a touch.

“Anything?” Freel asked, and looked at Kreb. The man had activated security feeds of main hallways, and the meeting room itself.

“No. We’re clear.”

“Good.”

Kreb extended the hologram showing the meeting room. It was exactly what one would expect: A bunch of well-dressed bastards sat around a long table, with Jakino himself at the end of it, with his back to a big window. Aside from the two armed guards, Freel wondered if a single person in that room had ever done any actual work in their life. Had they ever had to clench their fists on the streets? Had they ever bled? Or did the Cartel really operate like royalty?

Well, screw them. They were going to burn once that scorcher went off.

“They’re a funny species, aren’t they? Moneybags, I mean.”

Freel went into a pocket and brought out a little auto-hacker.

“They can spend fortunes on stupid things to keep on their wall, or on an exotic bed to keep in their fifth vacation home… but at the same time they might skimp on security features.”

He attached the hacker to the safe, activated it, and stepped back.

“We’ll just consider this natural selection at work.”

Kreb mirrored his nasty smile. Freel left the device to do its slow but reliable work, then strolled over to see the meeting room feed from up close.

“You hear that, assholes? We’re about to rob you and kill you. The guys who do the actual work are about to get an actual payday.”

Freel looked at Kreb.

“Do you think they-”

There was no audio with the images, but the floor shook a little as a car smashed into the big meeting room window. It was hardened against gunfire and explosions, but the frame itself was less sturdy. The sheet broke free and toppled inwards in one solid piece. The car was a civilian model, old but sturdy, and Freel recognised it from the final moments of the disaster on the Big Nest.

The car came to a rocky stop in mid-air as the window sheet fell onto the table, and several of the occupied chairs. The stranger leapt down from the hood, cleared the sheet, and rolled nimbly on the table. He came up into a crouch, raised the plasma pistol that he’d stolen from Freel, and shot one of the armed guards. The other one recovered from shock enough to raise his own gun, but, as debris from the ceiling and the torn frame rained down, the stranger shot him as well.

He swept the gun with one hand, shooting one of the Devil Star reps, and another, as his hand went to his belt. It detached one of those home-made grenades, and as the main door to the meeting room opened he threw it. The guards that burst in stepped right into an explosion.

The floor shuddered again, and Freel turned a wide-eyed look to Kreb.

“Guys?” Yules said. “Um, I… on the feeds…”

“We see it,” Freel told him.