You know the kind - former Imperial Marine, adrenaline junkie, but someone with an old fashioned sense of Justice.... A guy like Dominic Stone.....
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My name is Dominic Stone. The card I hand out says "Special Services for Hire. Discretion is assured." What that really means is up to the person reading the card...
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My office was in a building on the edge of respectability. The place had seen better times but hadn't gone completely to seed. Sitting in the no man's land between the bright and brittle light of polite Core society and the shadows of the slums in the decayed part of that same society, I found a place to do business. The landlord owed me, so the rent was right. With two rooms and a tiny 'fresher in the back, I could work and live here between gigs.
I didn't take every offer that came through the door. I still have standards, though many would argue about that. As for the rest, there are enough thugs in the slums to handle the really ugly stuff. No, what I offered was a respectable veneer and complete silence for those very rich folks that needed some less than respectable work performed. Mostly Intel work on business partners or competitors. Or the odd boyfriend who needed some persuasion to move on. Stalkers disappeared; thieves turned themselves in or went away. For the serous stuff, I worked with my old CO, now a cog in the local Police machine. He got all the credit for any arrests, and I got the dough. Life wasn't as exciting as my time in the Imperial Marines, but it was good enough.
Then Roxy walked into my life. Roxanne Delossantos Marie Thane. Yes, of those Thanes. Not quite two meters of gorgeous, natural beauty, with none of that biosculpt cookie-cutter stuff. What that said to me was "wealth". In capital letters. Big money, old school money, Family money. She was standing there in the doorway, looking confused.
It took me a second to push some junk off a chair and to move it around to the front of the desk. "Sorry, Miss. Just moved and haven't had the time to completely settle in. Please, have a seat." While she graced the chair with her presence, I sat behind my battered desk. Leaning forward I asked a simple question, "What can I do for you today?" That's when she started to cry...
It took over an hour to pull the full story or at least a story out of her. She was well educated, smart, raised in the lap of luxury. Even here in the Core, that was saying a lot. Too well raised to actually rebel against her Family, she had decided to go her own way. A woman striking out on her own wasn't unheard of and maybe even common, in some of the lesser realms of the Imperium. But she was proud. That pride led her to make some bad mistakes and those mistakes, in turn, brought her to me.
"So, has this individual actually threatened you in public? Said anything in front of any kind of non-electronic witness?" Recordings are worthless. Give me a couple of hours and I'll make a video that depicts even a Preacher of the Way as a mass murderer.
"No, Mr. Stone. He has not. Red is far too...careful for that. He has the records of his loans to me. Past that, he's nearly a ghost. Now the payment he has demanded is...unacceptable. He may be from a major Family, but they are people that I...don't wish to associate with."
I can't imagine what a marriage contract with a loan shark would be like. For someone like Ms. Thane, it could be worse than death. Pride is funny that way, I guess. She was willing enough to take this guy's money, but nothing else. "I see, Ms. Thane. Or, at least, I think I see. If you legitimately took these loans, I don't understand how I can be of any help to you. Perhaps someone from your Family could..."
The answer was like a slap, "No!" She took a second to compose herself. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stone. That's not...possible. I'm been given to believe that you're discrete in your work. Very discrete." Sitting a data chip on the desk, she added, "I have the funds to pay off the loans, he refuses to accept my payment". Pointing, she finished with, "See for yourself. I was hoping you'd be willing to carry the payment and... Persuade Diego to drop this nonsense about a Personal contract. You would get a percentage of the total payment, if that is acceptable."
My data reader is first rate, even if hidden in the desk. Putting both hands over my face, as if deep in thought, it didn't take me long to scan both the loan contract and her balance sheets. She could pay off the mook, even if he wasn't willing to accept the funds. I've seen people try to buy their way into certain Families, but this was a novel scheme, to say the least.
"I have to ask this, I'll be as kind as possible, Ms. Thane. Did you not read the entire contract before you accepted transfer of his funds?"
I'll give her some credit as she actually managed to blush. "While you and your Family may be...estranged, the contract you accepted is explicate. He has the option to demand a Personal contract with you as part of his repayment. To be honest with you, being forced to sleep with this guy must be the least of your problems. What are you really afraid of here? Are you willing to share that? It will influence my ultimate decision as to accepting this job." I took a deep breath, "Crying won't help. Honesty will."
She was a long time in answering. She blew out a long breath before speaking. "My mother is...was a Braxton before she married Father. Diego isn't trying to buy into the Thane business empire; he's after the Braxton Corporation. When Mother passed away, she left that asset to me in Trust. I don't know how he found out...but that's what he's really after...it has to be."
Sitting stone faced, she seemed...relived to have said this much. It was all the stuff that she left out that could get me killed; I had no doubt about that. It took a second for everything to sink in. If Diego was able to force a Personal contract, she just might be as good as dead. Surviving spouse ownership and all that. Now the story made more sense in one way, but made far less sense in too many others. Pride was one thing; sheer stupidity was altogether different. What was I missing?
"I'll need to give this some more thought, Ms. Thane. If it's acceptable to you, I'll contact you, perhaps aa soon as this evening with my answer."
She stood, leaning over my desk, and in the process, giving me a good view of her…assets. "I'm sure I have no choice, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to resolve this. If you get my meaning?" With that, she walked back out the door.
I had no doubt she was more than willing to sleep with me, but if I wanted a woman, I had only to go down the street. The local University was full of bored women looking for a thrill. No, there was more to this situation and I needed to find out what that missing piece really was or this could be the last gig I took.
The trouble with being wealthy and powerful is the flip side of life, the Yang to the Yin. Rich and powerful made for a lot of jealously and hate to balance the whole Chi of the Universe. Or so more a few people have informed me over the years. I can believe it, the way a lot of these people got rich and powerful was to step on a lot of toes, or worse. Friends come and go, but enemies, they accumulate. More wealth, more enemies, the simplest of all math.
Once folks reach that level of wealth, they become kind of an onion. This is just my way of saying they become surrounded by muscle. More money, more hate. More hate, more muscle. All very Tao like. I straightened up the front office area, putting all the really breakable stuff in the back while I had the time. Because when that much wealth leaves a building, the resulting vacuum could draw in all sorts of strange things.
Since Daddy Thane didn't get where he is by being sloppy, at a minimum I expected some hired muscle to drop by for a discussion of sorts. At worst, some of the more active enemies of her Family would be interested in why even a wayward scion of the Thane clan would visit someplace so on the edge. Either way, I knew could expect visitors. How they would act was an open question. Such is life in the special services business. Nothing new, of course, but sometimes the cost of doing business could be wearisome.
I was sitting on the front of my desk, playing with a paperweight; a round stone picked up on one of my travels. The first mook through the door was all muscle. Just like a pulser, totally harmless...until someone pulled a trigger. Person number two was something of a surprise, a woman. Short, stocky and not the least bit of effort made to be attractive. That was the surprise, for her to be this...unattractive, well, that was a statement, not something nature forced on her. This was going to be interesting.
Her first words were at least polite. "You Dominic Stone?" No snarl, but may be just an attempt to find and fix the target...
"I am. And you are...?" It never hurts to be at least a little polite back, if nothing else it could save a trip to the autodoc to fix some busted ribs. Since she was doing the talking, that also made her threat number one. Unless the mook had an actual weapon in hand, I wasn't worried. Until someone has witnessed Imperial military grade combat implants in action, they have no concept of what that means in a hand-to-hand fight. With any luck, I could avoid providing that demonstration.
"Doesn't matter. What's your business with the woman that just left?"
No small talk, she was in a hurry for some reason. "I'm sorry. I have no idea at all what you're talking about. This building holds a total of twenty some businesses, last I looked at the front door index. Perhaps you could try somewhere else. Starting on the first floor?"
"Nice try, but no win for you." She held up a small device, not quite square. It could be anything from a 'fone to a weapon. What is really was - was a sniffer. That by itself was...unusual. "This says she was in here and not that long ago. I doubt she came up three flights of non-powered stairs to ask directions. So, I'll ask one last time. What's your business with that woman?" As a counterpoint to the question, her muscle growled at me.
Well, it was going to be like that, or so it seemed. "A gentleman never tells, as they say. If you have no business you wish to conduct here, then you're trespassing." I smiled, "Just like it says on the index as you entered. Please leave now, before I become...annoyed."
I waited for the mook to reach inside his coat. The rock powdered on his forehead and he went down like a sack of skin. I could have thrown it hard enough to exit the back of his skull. As it was, he would wake up with one Hell of a headache. I never took my eye off Miss Delightful, her next move would determine how the rest of my day would go, if if I had the rest of the day to live... I raised one eyebrow, as it was her move.
"You do know just how ****ed he's going to be when he wakes up?" She added a smile to the end of the sentence, like a bit of punctuation.
"At least he will wake up. How about you? Care to tell what this is all about or do we have to get...ugly?"
"No, not in the least. As a matter of fact, my business here's done. If you want, I can send a couple of his friends up to collect this lump or you can dispose of the trash however you wish..."
"I'd prefer you clean up after yourself. Who knows what kind of street trash his buds would track in here? I try to keep the place respectable, at least as much as I can..."
That got another smile. She walked over and hooked a hand under his shoulders. With no apparent effort, she lifted the mook half off the floor and walked away. I watched on the hallway monitors. When she got to the stairs, she threw him down, single handed, following after the sounds of his body bouncing downhill stopped. She waved over her shoulder going around the corner. First class augmentation is all but impossible to spot before it's used, and very expensive. She had a boss that didn't mind spending real dough.
I leaned over and set the safeties before standing. Had I been...removed from my perch, the room autos would have killed the two and left me quite the mess to clean up. All's well that ends well, I suppose. I still didn't know for whom the pair was working, but a good bet was Daddy or at least a lower level Thane Family security functionary. This all was a bit of an insult. If there had been any doubt as to my ability to keep quiet, Roxanne would have never entered in the first place.
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Thanks to my favors to the local PD over the years, I had access to most of their database. It didn't take long to see why Roxanne was frightened by Diego Red. He was part of a larger organization and not all of the organization was business related. The organization was careful enough to stay on the brighter side of their shady ventures. The ugly stuff was farmed out with enough cut-outs that while their collective skirts were muddy, they weren't bloody. That was the trouble with legitimate Police functions. All the rules they had to follow, more or less. I didn't suffer from those restraints, nor did I benefit from any protection. I walked a very thin line every day and with this Diego character, that line was going to be razor thin.
I tried the easiest first. I couldn't cut through his security to message him about payment. I was certain this much was deliberate. That left more old-school methods, and these were much higher risk. I considered what I would carry as I shadowed the mark and decided anything past my usual glass 'worry beads' would be a needless escalation this early in the hunt. Later, if it got messy or too dangerous, I could always add hardware. For now, I bought a new pair of shoes. I had no doubt these would be all but worn out before I could make my next move.
To my utter surprise, Diego had a routine that took less than a week to sort out. He was either supremely confident or a complete fool. Since fools never accumulate that much swag, I was more than careful in my surveillance. I decided that a meeting at a place he owned would be the least dangerous for non-players.
The joint was called the Dead End, a bar so foul as to be a real dive. That was saying a lot for a place nearly into the slums. With a couple of locals I'd used in the past to cover my back, I spent a few sessions in the place. At least I wouldn't stand out as someone so brand new to the place that I squeaked when Diego showed up.
My first trip in, I got hassled by what had to be one of the regular barflies that seemed to be the stock in trade for the Dead End. The first couple of passes, he was just annoying. The third time he was stupid, or drunk enough to actually put his hands on me. Rather than give the guy a fight, I drained my shot glass before slamming it, bottom first, into his face.
I was careful not to break the glass. The barkeep didn't even break a sweat, just refilled the glass with a nod. Another couple of regulars carried off the barfly. Nothing new to a place like this, except that I hadn't torn up the rummy. That must have played in my favor as the next session in; the barkeep had my drink up on the bar before I'd settled into my seat, adding a nod of recognition. The dough I'd left behind hadn't hurt with that.
I was carefully sitting on a corner stool where I could watch the door without being too obvious when Diego walked in. He took a seat in a booth in the back, one I'd seen empty every time I'd been in the place. There was no gain in watching my mark; rather I paid attention to everyone else in the place. It didn't take long to sort out who was a real barfly and who was there as part of Diego's security screen.
Clever guy, I'll give him that. Someone who is always in a place isn't always seen as a security asset. Just like my two guys, part of the woodwork, if you weren't paying attention. After he completed whatever he came for, Red left by the same door. That had to mean there was security outside that I'd missed in my early recon. Being that sloppy would get me killed yet again.
I gave it another hour before leaving. My guys would be there the rest of the night, just in case Diego came back for some reason. Now all that was left was to be able approach the guy and keep all of my teeth. That would take some planning, and the help of my old boss...
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So, sound interesting to you? This will be more than a short story but less than a novella.... Perhaps part of a series. Still working this up, would like to hear your thoughts.
DKR/dkr
What if... Mike Hammer had a spaceship?
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