Interlude 1

The sun was coming up on this side of the Empire. Gerald was glad, the dark night was cold and the wind blowing through his clothes was colder still. But even once it was light out, there would be no undoing his nervousness.

With each step, his feet crunched on snow as he made his way through the genetically created piney forest. He always liked walking down through this area, the grass rustled with animals, the birds chirped loudly in the trees, and no humans disturbed his peace. He wished he could be so carefree, he wished he didn't have to deal with business. But, alas, he did. And he got paid way too well to not tell his boss the news.

The wind was stopping now and the heat of the sun was coming out. Maybe the rest of the day would be nice, he'd sit on the porch and perhaps even drink a beer. If it wasn't for the news that was.

The trees broke away and the trail revealed water reflecting the sun on its rippling surface. Ripples came from the boat that his boss was in. The man had more muscle on him than he did, and his job required muscle while his boss didn't lift a finger. His boss was also just barely thirty while he himself was sitting at fifty-two.

He didn't mind working for someone younger though, that was just how life went. He was just glad to be allowed to still be kicking, much less not in the Underground but instead in the cold, crisp air of Unastad. What used to be known as Ukraine before the invasions started.

He made his way to the embankment of the water, watching as small waves rippled into the muddy shore. His boss was facing away from him, holding a rod and reel in his hand.

“Mr. Hovershaw,” He said, clearing his throat. “I have a message for you,” He said, his voice carrying easily across the water. Hovershaw put an index finger up before yanking hard on the rod in his hand. He began to reel in his catch quickly and deftly brought up a white perch out of the water into his hand. He turned around, showing off his catch with a wide smile, showing off his perfectly aligned, white teeth.

Gerald couldn't force himself to smile back. “Sir, it's...” He couldn't get the nerve to say the rest. Hovershaw was a fairly even-tempered man, especially toward his guards, but even so, he didn't know how any man would react to this kind of news. “It's your brother, sir.”

Hovershaw quickly turned the motor of the boat on and guided it to the embankment. The water splashed up the embankment, getting Gerald's shoes wet. He felt the wind pick up at that moment, causing his feet to freeze into numbness.

“What do you mean,” Hovershaw asked, his face unreadable as he tossed the fix onto the boat's floor.

“Your brother, sir, he's...” He took a breath. “He's dead.”

Hovershaw looked at him coldly, studying him. Gerald tried to stay stoic but felt the tingles in his feet as he moved uncomfortably. Finally, thankfully, he looked away, up to the sun. “You're sure?”

“Yes.”

Hovershaw was silent for a moment, taking a long breath before closing his eyes. He nodded. “I always knew something like this would come, what happened?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“He was in a house fire but it seems like he died before that, he was murdered, sir.”

Hovershaw took a sharp breath, clearly not expecting that. “Oh,” He said, his voice dull. He cleared his throat before speaking, “You- you sure it wasn't a heart attack? He always had bad health.”

Gerald shook his head. “No sir, he was,” He was about to say obliterated by shards of glass but stopped himself. “He was murdered.”

Hovershaw let out a long, hollow sigh and grimaced before saying, “Okay, you know what to do.”

Gerald did. They all did. He nodded and immediately began to walk back toward the house. He began searching through the screen in his eyes, researching possible culprits. The motor began once again and he looked back to see his boss going back out to fish. At first, he thought it odd, but the more he thought about it perhaps it was calming for him. His boss probably needed that alone time. He went back to his work, each step going into the now melting snow as the sun began to beat down on him. It had only been up for a few minutes, but it was enough with the atmosphere as bad as it was nowadays.

After quickly coming to the conclusion he couldn't figure out the suspect, he sent out a bounty for any information to all of The Organization's contacts. It simply read:

Anyone who has information on the case of Howard Hovershaw, please let Fredrick Hovershaw know.

10,000 credits for simple info.

100,000 credits for critical info.

It was a lowball for the murder of the business partner of the CEO of the Organization, but it had to start somewhere. He'd probably up it in a few hours if nothing came their way. All that mattered, was whoever did this didn't get away.

#

Fredrick Hovershaw cast his fishing rod hard and watched as the reel went an easy hundred yards, nearly hitting the embankment on the other side. He didn't mean to throw it so far, but with a strength reading up to 27 on his implant, it was hard not to, especially when angry. And he was angry. He tried his best to not Gerald that, but he felt his blood boiling with rage.

His brother was dead. Howie, his little brother, was dead. Sure, he hadn't expected him to live a very long life, he had always had severe medical issues, but he never expected murder.

You stupid, stupid asshole! How could I send my brother down into that shitshow of a place?

But he knew how, money. That was all that had mattered to him the moment, and damn did it feel good watching those drops of purple blood get shipped away in those vials, replaced with a million credits per vial. It had been enough to buy this land he stood on two times over in just the two weeks he had owned that woman.

But now she was, presumably, gone. She had killed Howie, he knew it. But he couldn't have told Gerald that, nobody could know about the woman. They'd then want all of their grubby hands on his money. But the money didn't matter anymore. No, they found her, he wouldn't let them take her in. He wouldn't let his Organization steal her from him. He'd kill her with his bare hands. It'd just take one good hit to smash her blue skull, to watch the purple insides leak out.

My brother is dead.

The thought echoed in his head, whirling around him.

My brother is dead. My brother is dead. My brother is dead.

He felt the sadness wanting to come but he kept it at bay.

My brother is dead. My brother is dead. My. Brother. Is. Dead!

He felt that sadness boil into pure, unadulterated hatred. He heard something slapping the ground, alive and wet. He looked down to see the fish he had caught. He had apparently forgotten to drop it back in the water. Good. He lifted his leg and smashed it down into the fish, watching as the entire being exploded into a red paste.

Nothing would stand in his way, he'd tear down his entire business to kill that damn woman. They just had to find her.