Final Protocol

Tip #1: Don’t get on her bad side. Tip #2: There’s no good side.

Her name is Silence. If she was ever known by any other name, she doesn’t remember.

She is a killer. If she was ever anything else, she doesn’t remember.

She has an owner. If she was ever free…well, that she
does
remember. She was free and then somebody gave her to a madman to pay a debt that wasn’t hers. She’s his toy, his pet…and his trained killer. She kills at his whim or she dies.

She has a target. Her so-called
owner
…the man who makes her life a living hell. If she could kill anybody in the universe, it would be him. But he holds her life in his hands.

And she has a wish—to find a man she barely remembers. A man she knows she once loved. The man who betrayed her and stole away her freedom.

With one final target between her and the tantalizing promise of freedom, she moves in for the kill. There’s one problem. There’s something strangely familiar about her mark. Something that echoes in the void where love used to live.

Warning: One woman with a mission, one evil bastard who lies as often as he breathes, and a man who’ll stop at nothing to find what he lost. Be warned…some questionable consent lies within.

Final Protocol

J.C. Daniels

Dedication

For those who enjoy my Kit books, I hope you like Silence too.

To those I love…I thank God for you. You’re my heart.

Chapter One

He knew why I was here.

Maybe it was the wisdom of old age or maybe it was because he was a native.

I couldn’t tell he was aboriginal just by looking at him. It went deeper than that. I’d done a lot of research on the population on my way to the planet, and I’d spent the several weeks studying my target. It wasn’t until the past few days that I’d realized he wasn’t the human I’d been made to think.

He was Ariste, and older, probably nearing the end of his lifespan, and there was no reason for me to kill him. Other than the fact that I was being paid to do just that. But he didn’t fit my standard profile, and the longer I watched him, the more distasteful I found this job.

He had little time left. It was there in the way he moved, in the labored way he breathed. He even
looked
ill.

What had this old man done to have somebody pay to have his short time left cut even shorter?

The question left me angry and I don’t like being angry on a job.

Ariste, the humanoid population indigenous to Aris, looked almost identical to humans, until you were almost face-to-face. Their eyes had a silvery glint to them, which they often hid behind shaded lenses. Their planet’s days were short but brutally hot, while the nights were long. Most inhabitants dwelled within domed cities to protect them from the extreme temperatures.

Some people said that this was what Old Earth would be like by now. Well, except for the population thing. Aris still had a thriving population. Disease and war had all but decimated Old Earth. There were rumors that those who had remained behind no longer even resembled anything we’d consider human.

Personally, I think
human
is just another word for animal. None of us are worth much. Me included.

The Ariste were a different beast altogether. Some of the kindest, most gentle people I’d ever come across resided here, on this hot, desert planet that traveled too close to its sun. The people made me nervous, and I wanted nothing more than to kick the dust of this planet off my shoes and leave it far behind.

Leave these smiling people far behind.

I had very little use for people in general. If I couldn’t fuck it, then the only time I was likely to come in contact with anybody was when I was sent a contract to kill.

Like this old man, with his round, cheerful face and his silver eyes—Ariste eyes—hidden behind the tinted lenses he wore.

I was here to kill him.

And he knew.

A smile curved his face as I moved into the room, not bothering to conceal myself.

He already knew I was there. Why bother to hide?

Either he’d called for help, which would mean I had to move things along, or he thought he could handle me on his own.

Neither would change the outcome.

He would die, because the alternative was that I would likely die, and I didn’t plan on that being the case.

He nodded toward the table where he sat.

“Would you join me?”

I paused, my hand on the darts I’d planned to use. The problem was he hadn’t been on the long, narrow balcony, taking his normal walk. The Ariste had a thing about the setting sun. It was a religious fascination as far as I could tell. All of the houses had balconies that faced the west, so they could watch as the brutal, burning sun sank below the horizon. Even the poorest of families would struggle to get a simple opening so the family could face the death of the day.

Cree Ru was far from poor.

Yet he hadn’t taken his sunset walk.

“Come.” He smiled. “Sit.”

I said nothing. I knew better. My voice could be used to track me, pin me to the crime, if anybody was successful at hunting me down. I’d evaded capture on a dozen planets in four different systems. Saying even a single word would be an amateur’s mistake.

Just like walking in that open door was an amateur’s mistake,
I chided myself.

“You will not sit then.” Cree nodded. “Very well. I’ll speak a bit. I’ve time yet.”

He must have sensed something because that faint smile on his face widened a fraction. The smile was oddly paternal. “No. The authorities weren’t alerted. I sensed you three days ago and have had the time since then to decide on the actions I’d take. First, I had to think about who must have hired you.”

That wasn’t an answer I could give him.

I accepted the money, the job, all from my handler. There were other things I took from him, and some things he forced on me, but he never told me who hired me. It was essential, he’d once told me, that he protect his clients. Names were never given.

Cree didn’t let my silence stop him as he leaned back, steepling his fingers as he looked out into the night. He had thick, floor-to-ceiling walls of what the locals called plaris. It made me think of pilastene, a manufactured material that was used in almost everything for those who’d settled the New Earth colonies.

The NE colonies weren’t home to me, but many of my tools were NE made. It was what I was familiar with, what I was used to. Pilastene was nearly unbreakable, safe to manufacture and inexpensive.

Plaris, like ’stene, was durable and nearly unbreakable, something that served this volatile planet well. The material was designed to endure quakes that could have leveled cities. His entire home was made of plaris, and the windows were the clear stuff, the priciest form of it out there. Eyes on the night sky, he studied the twin moons and said, “I hated to admit it to myself, but there are only two people who would have done this. Only two who would benefit. My son and his wife.”

Arching my brows, I edged in closer, searching for weapons. So far, I’d yet to see a single one.

“I cannot tell if the look on your face is curiosity or merely an attempt to distract me.” He sighed and then reached out, pushed a covered dish toward me. “If you are any good at your job, you’ll recognize this.”

My eyes moved to the plate as he slid the cover away, revealing a thin disk of what looked like hammered gold.

The sight of the three small berries on that plate made my belly clench, even if I was there to kill him.

Death’s seal, the most poisonous plant in three systems. Deadly, and outlawed on almost every planet in those three systems. Just the touch of it on the tongue was enough to kill a child. Half of a berry could kill a woman my size. Three berries could kill three men.

“I’m going to make this easy,” he said quietly. “My son seeks to kill me, thinking he’ll inherit.”

Cree reached for a berry.

“Wait,” I said, the word ripping out of me despite my intention not to speak. “Why? If you wish to fight him, then why do this?”

“I don’t wish to fight him.” He smiled, rolling the berry between his fingers. “I wish to deny him what he tries to take by betrayal.” Then he shrugged. “And I refuse to let him use another in his endless vendetta against me. Do you know…it’s our belief that for every life you take, you must save two more if you want to leave this existence with your soul intact?”

I inclined my head. “I have no soul left. You do this for nothing if you try to spare me.”

“If you had no soul, it wouldn’t concern you to see this berry in my hand.”

He smiled at me as he tossed it up in the air.

I don’t know why I did it.

It should mean nothing to me.

I could easily claim his death as my own. Poison wasn’t unknown to me. I suspected I even knew who had provided him with those three priceless, deadly berries.

But my hand moved, almost as though it had a mind of its own, and the sliver-thin dart stole the berry from the air. I quickly used two more darts to destroy the other two berries. He could still lick the plate, I supposed, but somehow I didn’t see this regal, elegant man choosing that route.

“Why?” he asked, his voice puzzled.

Staring at the plate, at the thin stalks of the darts, I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

And I didn’t. I truly didn’t know. I knew that the idea of taking his life bothered me more than any other had in a long while, but still, I had planned to see my job through. I had still planned to kill him. Until he had spoken to me…
I will not let him use another…

How long had it been since anybody had cared if I was used or not?

Had it ever happened?

For a long moment, I studied the smear left by the ruined berries. Then I lifted my gaze to his. “Do you count now? As one half of a life?”

He cocked his head. “Well. I suppose I would, even though you came to kill me. Do you plan to walk away?”

Walk away. I’d never walked away from a job in my life. I had failed before. Twice. And I’d suffered more pain than I cared to recall. The breaking of my bones was a sound that had haunted my sleep for years.

But to walk away? Never. Doing so meant my life. It wasn’t much of a life, but it was the only one I had, and, as though the son of a bitch who held my leash already knew of my failure, I started to sweat. It didn’t work like that. I had time, weeks even.

But if I didn’t kill Cree, my handler could choose to end me.

It was as simple as that.

Staring into Cree’s wise old eyes, I made a decision.

I turned my back.

“How peculiar,” he murmured.

I didn’t stop.

The bioseal embedded in my brain wouldn’t kill me immediately. He wouldn’t even know right away.

I was just one face out of a dozen—dozens perhaps. Maybe more. I didn’t know how many of us he had in his employ. But I’d learned to push my limits as much as I could over the years. There was a saying from Old Earth—know your enemy. Knowing my enemy meant understanding the control he had over me.

Once I’d gone nearly four months before he realized I had yet to complete the task outlined. It was a complicated one, as I’d explained to him while I lay bleeding on the floor. Bleeding from every bodily orifice I had, and a few he’d created.

He’d given me a job I’d found more than a little off-putting, and I’d been about to walk away, but I’d realized at the last minute that my plan to mislead him wouldn’t have worked—he’d been tracking my movements, tracking
me,
and he’d never believe my attempts to fool him. So I’d gone ahead with the job…and lost yet another piece of myself.

And still he’d beaten me.

My employer claimed I’d taken too long, moved too slow, but we both knew why.

Time, I’d told him.

I needed time to follow the diplomat, learn his patterns, figure out the best way to finish the job.

He’d nodded, smiled.

By the time he was done, I’d needed six weeks to heal.

I considered it worth it, because I learned a great deal with that job. He also thought that after that particular occurrence, I’d never dare to push him so far again.

I wouldn’t have so much time on this job.

Weeks, perhaps. The trip from Aris was too short, over in four days.

To either figure out how to deactivate the bioseal or just end my own life.

I didn’t know what the best option was.

There were rumors. The bioseal was a biological construct and any bio construct could be deactivated. But I’d been following those rumors quietly for years with no luck. The closest I’d come was hearing about a botanist in the Nuru settlement. My gut twisted even thinking about that place. I didn’t go there. Ever. But if I wanted to know more about the botanist who could supposedly manipulate almost every known biological matter, I’d have to.

And I had to do it before my handler realized I was on the move.

Weeks.

I would have a couple of weeks. The old man was beloved by his people, and I’d told my handler it could be a slow job. He wouldn’t expect me to return home so soon. I’d bought myself some time…assuming I decided I wanted to live.

I thought of Cree’s words.

It’s our belief that for every life you take, you must save two more if you want to leave this existence with your soul intact.

I didn’t believe there was any chance of saving my soul. Save it from what, anyway?

I did believe in balance though. I’d taken lives. Perhaps when I closed my eyes for the last time, I could go quietly into eternity.

I thought of the way Cree had looked at me, like he could see clear through me, down to the very heart of me. Some said the Ariste could. That they could see thoughts, emotions and yes, even the soul. It would explain how he’d known I was coming, because there was no other way he could have known. I hadn’t given myself away. I knew I hadn’t.

“I’ll live,” I murmured as I stripped away the camouflage from the small transport I’d brought with me. It had been my emergency backup, just in case. Now it was going to save my neck. It was a risk, going offplanet by nonregulated means. But it was an even bigger risk to use the false identity that had been crafted for me. I couldn’t risk leaving a trail.

As soon as I could, I’d have to ditch my transport, find an alternate.

But first I had to get home.