Emergence (Fox Meridian Book 5) (28 page)

‘Comfortable?’ Grant asked.

Fox was still chained to the bed and speaking was unnecessarily difficult. ‘Never really understood the point of acupuncture.’

‘Neither have I. Then again, they use thinner needles. I can see the point in thicker ones.’

‘You’ve never had them stuck in you, so I doubt that. And you’re oblivious to puns, I note.’

‘I’ve never seen the point in puns either.’

‘Why doesn’t that surprise me? Oh, I know, it’s because you’re a humourless psychopath.’

‘You won’t goad me into further needless brutality. You cost me months in that hellhole and I’m going to make sure you stay alive long enough to appreciate every method I’ve ever devised to make death a blessed relief.’

‘But I’m still going to die. In the end, you’re still going to kill me.’

‘I doubt you’ll survive what I have planned.’

‘So it really doesn’t matter. In a few days, maybe even weeks, you won’t be able to keep me alive any longer, and I won’t care what you’ve done to me.’

‘You’ll–’

‘And in the meantime, if you give me the slightest chance to escape, I will.’

‘You’ll never–’

‘Or I’ll kill you. Don’t expect torture. You’ll just die.’

There was a click and the sensation of warmth near Fox’s leg, then searing pain. Fox bit down on the pillow in front of her face until the pain subsided to a dull throb.

‘These needles,’ Grant said, ‘conduct heat remarkably well. Shall we see how much of this you can take before I get the batteries out?’

‘Fuck you.’

Grant smiled. ‘I thought that might reduce your eloquence.’ Then he moved his lighter to the head of a second pin.

~~~

There had been a sedative in Fox’s lunchtime drink. She had tasted something odd about it, but there seemed no point in complaining. Her legs were still throbbing from the burning needles, and her entire lower body was in pain from the electrical jolts: sleep came as something of a relief.

When she awoke, she was upright again. This time, her arms were stretched out to the sides. There was some pain in her shoulders and she straightened her legs, feeling the muscles pull. There were some deep scars in the flesh there. At least her arms felt better.

‘You’re awake, good.’ Grant walked around from behind her holding a scalpel. ‘I wanted better access before I started cutting.’

‘Far be it from me to deny you access.’

He stepped closer, leaning in toward her face. ‘This evening, I think, I’ll take
far
greater advantage of that.’

Fox rolled her head away. ‘Jeez… If you’re going to fuck me, would you mind investing in some better mouthwash?’

‘That’s the last thing–’

Fox drove her head forward, slamming her forehead into Grant’s nose. He fell backward, collapsing into a crumpled mess on the concrete. ‘Far too easy, asshole,’ Fox told him, not that he could hear her. Looking to her left, she began to pull on the rope around her wrist. It took her perhaps a minute to squeeze her hand out through the loops. It hurt, but she did it. Turning, she worked the knot loose on her useless right wrist, and she was free. ‘Now… what to do with you…’

Turning, she examined the array of implements behind her, selecting a skinning knife. Then she turned back to the supine form of Grant. ‘Motherfucker has to–’ The door burst open and Fox turned toward the newcomer: Hannah, of course. There was a brief glimpse of something in Hannah’s hand and then a loud crack followed by the feeling of electrical agony. Fox had time to think, ‘Not again,’ before something was pressed against her neck…

Tokyo.

The Blue Lotus was not the kind of place Yuriko frequented on a regular basis. Nominally a restaurant and not a hostess bar, it still had all female staff who wore micro-mini kimonos in bright colours. It tended to overcharge for drinks too, but it was neutral ground, not a Fukui-kai business. On the rare occasions Yuriko needed to meet her brother, Taro, this was the place they went.

Yuriko had selected one of her few ‘cocktail’ dresses, though she used the term loosely. It was shorter than her usual choice in skirt, but it had long sleeves to cover the tattoo on her arm. She had been placed on a table at the back of the room, and suspected that Taro had arranged that. He may not have owned the place, but the Fukui name had influence in many quarters. It worked for Yuriko at times, though not in places where the Fukui-kai operated more openly: there they knew of her brother’s attitude to his sister.

Taro entered without fanfare but flanked by a pair of men in dark suits who peeled off to wait near the door. Expecting him to come without bodyguards was, of course, ridiculous, but at least he was being open about it and leaving them at a distance, and it was not as though Yuriko was without her guardian angels. Taro himself looked a little young for his thirty-five years and was dressed down in an off-the-peg suit and thin black tie. He had a narrow, hard face with a narrow nose, sharp cheekbones, and hollow cheeks. His eyes were dark, almost black, and tended to be hard. Thick, angular eyebrows sat over them, and under black hair cut by some designer or other. Blue ink from his chest tattoo showed above the collar of his shirt: Taro was an arrogant man and cared little about who knew of his affiliations.

Yuriko got to her feet as he approached and bowed. Taro did not return the gesture before slipping into the seat opposite her. Ignoring the insult, Yuriko sat down. ‘You are looking well, brother,’ she said.

‘I am well,’ Taro replied. His smile was self-congratulatory and barely reached his eyes.

‘I see you’ve had more muscle work done.’ Taro was an inch taller than his sister, but significantly heavier. He preferred those around him to think the muscle mass he wore was natural, but Yuriko knew he had never had the patience to acquire it by exercise.

Taro grunted. ‘You asked to see me.’

‘Very well. You have suffered some losses recently. Several of your men were arrested following a failed attempt to kidnap Sakura Nishi.’ Yuriko paused as one of the waitresses walked up to place a glass of light beer on the table in front of Taro.

A message window appeared in Yuriko’s vision field.
Don’t you think Helen looks good in the outfit?
Neither Yuriko nor Helen had asked how Kit had managed to obtain access codes to the bar’s servers, but she had, and the AI was running locally, watching everything through cameras.

Yuriko forced the smile off her face as Helen, dressed in one of the foolishly short kimonos and wearing geisha make-up, bowed formally to Taro before retreating. Then Yuriko sent a message back.
Kit-san, don’t make me laugh.
Aloud she said, ‘We have evidence to suggest that you were working with a hacker, Maxwell Snowbull, aka Minotaur, and that you had his help in the kidnap of Tara Meridian.’

Taro’s face hardened. ‘You have “evidence?” If you did, I have no doubt there would have been more interest from the police.’

‘We have kept some of the information we obtained after Snowbull’s capture within Palladium. The police would complicate things. I also know that the Fukui-kai are not holding Meridian-san. We want her returned.’

‘I’m not going to shed a single tear over Minotaur. Traitors deserve worse than arrest.’

‘He got worse. He’s catatonic. If he recovers, he’ll be sent to Luna City and then to Cold Harbour.’

Taro’s smile was more genuine but purely malicious. ‘As I said, not a single tear. I do not have the Meridian woman, so I fail to see what you expect of me. Perhaps if my men were to be freed…’

‘That is out of
my
hands, brother. The assault was ill-advised, arrogant. Far too public. The police had little choice in making the arrests and it’s your police contacts you’ll have to use to get them out. I can’t imagine why you would wish to bother with Toyotomi. Some prison time might do him good. You know where Meridian-san is. I would be grateful if you would tell me.’

Taro took his time, drinking from his glass and appearing to consider. Yuriko decided another small nudge was required. ‘Meridian-san is a personal friend of Jackson Martins. You will gain no favour with him by helping us, your action in taking her has seen to that, but you do not want MarTech as an enemy either.’

Another rather malicious smile, this time with a hint of knowing: a hidden secret. Taro had never understood how easily Yuriko could read his face and he was too arrogant to hide his thoughts well anyway. ‘I will tell you what I know, sister. Not because I worry about MarTech, but because our contract was with a gaijin, and what I know is unlikely to help. We delivered Meridian to an address in Narita. I’ll have it forwarded to you. It was an exchange. Money for Meridian. They are not holding her there.’

‘They?’

‘The contract was made with someone named Harrison Renault. The pickup was handled by a woman: tall, black-haired, unnamed. There are two of them. They.’

Yuriko got to her feet and bowed. ‘Thank you, brother.’

‘You owe me for this, Yuriko. I will collect on the debt.’

Yuriko’s stomach sank, but she kept the disquiet off her face. ‘Goodbye, brother,’ she said and turned on her heel to leave.

~~~

‘He could be a problem,’ Kit said from the console display of the car Helen and Yuriko were using to drive back to MarTech. ‘I did not like the way he phrased his last remark.’

‘He expects a favour in return,’ Helen said. ‘I kind of figured he would want something.’

‘He said “giri,”’ Yuriko said.

‘Exactly,’ Kit said, as though that explained everything.

‘Well,’ Helen said, ‘I’ve heard of it. From samurai movies. Oh, and there was this old thriller with Robert Mitchum in it, but that’s about all I know.’

‘It means… duty, obligation,’ Yuriko explained. ‘Taro knows that he cannot really demand it of me. He has disowned me, thrown me out of the family. He was letting me know that he will call in this “favour” and he expects a lot in return.’

‘He thinks he has you under his thumb,’ Kit said.

‘Yes, Kit-san. He does.’

‘We’ll worry about that when we need to,’ Helen said. ‘What did we get out of it?’

‘An address,’ Kit replied. ‘I am already back at the arcology and I have begun searching for any visual evidence around the period of Fox’s kidnapping. Might I suggest a physical search when it gets light?’

‘We’ll need clearance to take Pythia out there.’

‘I will arrange it tonight,’ Yuriko said. ‘It will not be an issue.’

‘What about this Harrison Renault?’

‘I have requested his entrance documentation from Japanese customs,’ Kit said, ‘but it is a fake identity.’

‘You know that without seeing it?’

‘He has
no
online presence, Helen. None at all. No one who travels internationally is invisible on the internet. If he was a sprawler, maybe, but almost none of them have passports.’

‘You have a point. So who is he?’

‘Unfortunately, given the description of his female companion, I have a theory on that which makes our search more urgent.’

‘Oh?’

‘I think Harrison Renault is Reginald Alan Grant.’

Chiba Industrial Zone, 21
^st
February.

Fox swam into consciousness, and pain. She gritted her teeth and tried to work out what was wrong.

She was on her back on something soft, but her hips had been raised up on some sort of ramp. That rather suggested that Grant had a specific purpose in mind, though she was a little surprised that he was stupid enough to do it with her facing him. But there was something…

The pain throbbing through her back was getting in the way of her ability to sort out what she was feeling that was wrong. Something was wrong… Glancing to her right, she saw the steel manacle which had been fixed around her artificial wrist. She could feel the one around the left. Lifting her head showed that, indeed, her hips had been pushed lewdly upward, and her legs were splayed out and chained and… She could not feel the manacles around her ankles.

She heard the door open and, a second later, Grant appeared in her field of view, naked and grinning maliciously. The blood was gone from his face, but his nose had lost its carefully shaped quality. Still, he appeared to have got over whatever displeasure he had felt on waking up.

‘What did you do?’ Fox asked before he could speak. ‘My back hurts. What did you do?’

‘After you smashed my nose? You made me lose my temper again. You do seem to be good at that. I hit you with a baseball bat. Painful, I’m sure, but Hannah administered more of the nanodrugs. You’ll be fine while I rape you. I’m sure you knew that was coming. I think I deserve–’

He stopped as Fox laughed. It was humourless and sharp, but it was a laugh. ‘Be my guest,’ she said. ‘You’d better have some lube handy.’

‘What?’

‘I’m sure it’ll be unpleasant, especially if your breath still stinks, but I’m not going to feel it. If I close my eyes, you won’t be there. You broke my fucking spine, motherfucker! I can’t feel a damn thing below my waist. You are
really
bad at this. What’s wrong. Out of practice?’

Narrowing his eyes, Grant turned to his table of toys and selected more of the needles. Ramming several into Fox’s inner thighs produced no results, no matter how he tried to trick her. The one jabbed into her left shoulder produced a wince.

‘We’ll see about that,’ Grant said, and he stalked out of the room.

Fox dropped her head back onto the pad she was resting on and looked up at the ceiling. Grant was going to kill her, so what did it matter if he broke her back? What did
anything
the bastard did matter? Nothing mattered. None of it. None of…

She felt the first tear run down from the corner of her eye and tried to stop any more. Sometimes feeling nothing was not achievable…

~~~

‘Give her another dose of the drug,’ Grant snapped.

‘It’s too soon, sir,’ Hannah replied. ‘The last dose is still in her system.’

‘Give her more!’ Grant roared.

‘It’ll destroy–’

‘I don’t care. If her back’s broken, I can’t–’

‘Sir, the drug can’t fix a broken spine. Nerves–’