Programmed To Please (The Tau Cetus Chronicles) (11 page)

Theus halted in his pacing and turned his dark gaze on Marque. “Do I need to remind you of your responsibilities? The fate of the world literally rests in your hands. The
Council
directs where the weapons go. You take your orders from
us
. During the Great War, Tau Cetus was nearly destroyed. That risk cannot be allowed again.” Theus waved an agitated hand. “Men will always strive for power over each other. We know that. So the Council put its trust in you. We made you the government’s means of checks and balances. If you cannot manage your part of this arrangement, we will…
take you out
…of the arrangement.”

The knot in Marque’s stomach turned to something else. His jaw tightened as he returned Theus’s hard stare
. Go ahead. Take me out, you bastard. I’d like nothing better than to give up this shadowy half-life I lead, constantly on guard, always looking over my shoulder and trying to protect everyone. It would be heaven to be free of this responsibility.

But a moment later, that antagonism evaporated. He was first and foremost Theus’ man. Marque had committed to this Herculean task because he knew how important it was, and he’d do it for as long as he was effective. He blinked, blew out a resigned breath, and watched as Theus resumed his pacing.

“I’ll track those stingers down myself,” Marque assured him. “And deal with the person responsible for stealing them.”

“You’re only alive right now because I believe that. Others on the Council, however, are not as convinced. You’ll have to do a lot more than find those weapons to regain the Council’s trust in you.”

Marque froze.
Shit.
This situation was even worse than he’d imagined. He now had to fear for his safety from inside the Council, as well as the constant threats from his enemies outside. How much more of this could one human being take?

Thank God he at least had the safety of J to turn to in his dangerous world.

#

“Sir. I respectfully request to be removed from this case.”

Back at headquarters for the daily debriefing, Jai stood at attention in front of Commander Talis Rainey’s desk. Her uniform and her formal stance added gravity to her words. Or at least that’s what she hoped.

“What are you talking about, Turner?”

“I’m a liability, sir. This has become too personal for me. I can no longer separate my job from my emotions.”

Like a good partner, Leith Wyatt stood silently supportive beside her.

Seated behind his desk in the spartan office, Rainey sighed and waved a dismissive hand. “Request denied.”

“But sir— ”

“Sit.”

“I really think—”

“I said
sit
.”

Jai hesitated, and then grudgingly took a seat, her back still ramrod straight. She would not relax until she had this awful situation resolved. Wyatt eased himself into the chair next to her.

Jai leaned forward, her body posture all but pleading. “Sir. I can’t continue. I’ve become…
emotionally involved.”

It killed her to admit the words, but they were true
. Damn
. Jai took pride in her job. In five years on the force, she’d never been in danger of letting down a partner or her commanding officer. Until now.

Rainey rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, steepled his fingers, and stared at her over the top of them. “Turner, becoming ‘emotionally involved’ is exactly what we wanted to happen. I asked you to build a relationship with Callex, to earn his trust. And it sounds like you’ve done exactly that.”

“Sir. You wanted me to soften Callex up so that he’d spill his secrets. You certainly never wanted me to…”

 “To what, Turner?”

Jai’s mouth twisted. “To start to have feelings for him, sir.”

Rainey scowled, but he didn’t seem nearly as upset as Jai had expected. “I admit it’s not the best case scenario,” he said. “But it lends legitimacy to the role you’re playing. Just don’t let it interfere with your job.”

“But sir—”

“There’s no shame here, Turner. If you could have sex multiple times with a man and
not
feel anything, I’d think you actually
were
a robot.”

It wasn’t shame at having sex that concerned Jai. The truth was, her feelings
were
threatening to interfere with her job. “Sir, I can’t—”

“You
can
, and you
will
,” Rainey insisted. “We’ve never been this close to Callex before.”

“Sir—”

“That’s an
order
, Turner. You have a job to do. Suck it up and do it.”

Defeated, Jai sat back in her chair. Tear threatened to sting her eyes. She was going to have to go through with this awful assignment, to gain and betray Marque’s trust.

Rainey threw a cynical glance at Wyatt. “I assume you destroyed today’s disc as well.”

“Yes, sir,” her partner answered briskly.

“Too bad,” Rainey commented wryly. “It sounds like today’s session was particularly…
productive.”

Jai winced, once again grateful to Wyatt for protecting her modesty.

“When Callex says something incriminating, you’ll get that disc, sir,” Wyatt assured the commander.

Rainey slapped a hand on his desk. “Damn it, Wyatt. This is police work we’re talking about here. You shouldn’t be destroying evidence!”

“There’s been no ‘evidence’ yet. Sir.”

“That’s not for
you
to decide.” Rainey made a frustrated sound, and then leaned back in his chair.

From beside Jai, Wyatt subtly cleared his throat. She knew what he was hinting at, but she was still wallowing in the fact she was going to have to go through with this assignment.

“There
was
one new bit of information today, sir…” Wyatt began, giving Jai no choice but to speak up.

She blew out a resigned breath. “Marque Callex wants to buy me.”

“What?”
Rainey’s eyebrows shot up.

“He wants to own his Beautiful Doll, to take me home at the end of this week.”

The huge grin that split the commander’s face was not exactly the reaction Jai was expecting. In fact, Jai couldn’t remember if she’d ever seen Rainey smile.
Ever.

“That’s perfect!” Rainey bellowed. “But why do you look so upset, Turner? It sounds like you have Callex right where you want him.
Work it.
You have two more days on this assignment. Get the job done quickly, and then get out. I want information that will convict Marque Callex, and
you will get it for me.”

Chapter Six

“I’ve discovered our thief, Marque, but you’re not going to like it.”

Marque came to an abrupt halt at his assistant Talesin’s desk, his bodyguard Bursus nearly running into him from behind. Marque had just come from the daily morning production meeting, where no mention had been made of the missing stinger missiles.

Frankly, after Theus’s visit yesterday, it had taken all of Marque’s control this morning to look at each man seated around the conference table without giving them an accusatory glare. He’d been glad when the meeting had finally adjourned.

Talesin blew out a breath, and Marque glanced down at his assistant’s haggard face. Besides Bursus, Talesin was the only man in this world Marque trusted completely. He’d given his assistant a job that had undoubtedly taken most of the night, but which had obviously been successful. “I’m
sure
I’m not going to like it. No matter
who
the thief is. Someone from our inner circle – someone I thought I could trust – has betrayed us.”

Talesin swallowed, obviously reacting to the dangerous scowl on Marque’s face. “His actions were recorded. He can’t deny it.”

“Who is it?”

The name Talesin spoke was not a surprise to Marque. He’d had his suspicions, after all, even given the betrayer an assignment designed to prove his innocence. Still, it felt like a punch to the gut. He closed his eyes briefly while trying to compose himself. “You have the proof with you?”

Talesin handed Marque a disc.

“Get him up here.”

Talesin hesitated, and then glanced at Marque’s bodyguard. “Should we send Bursus for him?”

Marque shook his head. “No. That might tip our hand. Just tell him I need to see him in my office. Bursus and I will wait in there.”

Talesin reached for a button on his desk, but Marque stopped him.

“On second thought, give me five minutes. I want to see this evidence for myself first.”

Talesin nodded. “What you’re looking for is at 28-minutes in.”

With a resigned sigh, Marque turned and headed to his office, followed closely by Bursus. Popping the disc into a player on the console next to his desk, Marque settled into his chair, grabbed a remote, and forwarded to time code 28:00.

There he was, the traitor on the monitor, plain as day – or rather,
night
, since just the auxiliary lights were on in the manufacturing plant. Still, it was easy to make out the image of Chavis Smith slipping two stinger missiles from the loading dock into a long duffel bag. With a weight of just twelve pounds each, the missiles would have been easy for him to conceal and to carry away.

Marque stopped the disc.

“You knew about him?” Bursus asked.

Marque shrugged. “I had my suspicions. That’s why when Chavis offered to get to the bottom of the missing missiles during Wednesday’s production meeting, I agreed. It was a test, of sorts.”

“Bastard,” Bursus mumbled. “How do you want to deal with this?”

“Well, we’ll have to turn him over to the Council, obviously. Let’s just hope he doesn’t put up too much of a fight.”

“Why? I’d love an excuse to pound him to a pulp.”

Marque grimaced. “He’s still my brother-in-law.”

Two minutes later, Chavis poked his head around Marque’s office door, a broad smile on his face. “You called, Marque?”

Marque rose from behind his desk, the remote still in his hand. “Yes. Come in.”

As Chavis stepped into the room, Bursus moved to stand in the doorway, blocking any exit.

Chavis didn’t seem to notice. Or, if he did, he knew it was common enough for Bursus to be on guard duty. He obviously didn’t think anything was out of the ordinary.

Marque crossed his arms over his chest and got right to the point. “I know it was you who stole the wasp missiles, Chavis.”

His brother-in-law’s eyebrows reached his hairline. The look of surprised innocence on his face was almost believable. “What are you talking about?”

“You stole the wasps, and now you’ve stolen the stingers.”

 Chavis took a small step back. “
What?
You’re out of your mind, Marque.”

Marque simply stared at him.

The innocent expression on Chavis’s face faltered. “Come on, Marque, this isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking. I know you stole those missiles.”

 “I did not.
And you can’t prove otherwise.”

“Wrong,” Marque contradicted. “I have the evidence on disc.”

Chavis’s eyes narrowed. “Impossible! I’ve been through all of the security discs with Rekos, trying to track down the real fucker myself. I told you I’d take care of this, Marque. Unfortunately, there’s no sign of the thief on the recordings.”

Marque smiled dangerously. “Of course not. That’s because you jerry-rigged them, looping a static overnight shot of the production room floor and the loading docks.” How else would the regular security cameras not have picked up Chavis’s actions? “Do you think I didn’t install extra cameras after the wasps went missing? Cameras that no one knew about but me?”

Chavis hesitated, then set his mouth in a mulish line. “I don’t believe you.”

With a sigh, Marque hit a button on the remote in his hand, and pointed it toward the monitor.  Chavis’s betrayal was replayed again.

The color drained from his brother-in-law’s face. Chavis quickly changed tactics, trying a self-deprecating smile and a placating tone. “Come on, Marque. Listen, buddy. What are two small missiles in the grand scheme of things? They won’t even affect your bottom line.”

Marque said nothing. No one employed by Callex Industries – except Bursus and Tallesin – knew the company was actually a front for the government, and that Marque was not a capitalistic arms dealer. The missing missiles had nothing to do with lost profit.

Getting no response and starting to sweat, Chavis tried another tack. “You don’t know what I’ve done for you, Marque!” he whined.

Marque raised a dubious eyebrow. “Really? And just what have you done for me?”

“I recently uncovered a spy in our midst, sent to infiltrate us from Tau Cetus’s police force. I…
took care…
of him for you.”

“What?” Marque froze. “The police sent— Who was this…
spy?”

“His name was Joran Breaux.”

Shit. Marque had had his own suspicions about Breaux, and had been scheduled to meet with the man one day last month. But he’d never shown up.

Fucking hell…

So Chavis was guilty of murder as well as theft. The High Council would show him no mercy. And the poor bastard didn’t even know yet whom he’d really betrayed. “You’re in deep shit, Chavis. What was worth this risk? Why did you do it?”

Obviously realizing that neither his cajoling nor his wheedling was working, Chavis sneered. “You want to know
why?
Are you really that dense, Marque? It’s Leora.”

Marque took a sharp breath. He hadn’t honestly expected Chavis to give him a reason for his treachery, but this? “
My sister?
My sister is the reason you’re selling weapons?
”

“Do you have any idea what she costs, Marque? Christ, the security alone—”

“What the
fuck
are you talking about?” Marque shouted, losing his notorious calm. “
I
pay for her security detail. Leora has more security than
I
do!”

“And do you know how much she hates you for that?” Chavis shouted back. “For making her life a prison? A gilded cage? It’s all she talks about. She lashes out at you by spending a bloody fortune.” Chavis grimaced. “
Shit
. I married her for the power and prestige I thought being related to you would bring me, but Leora is more than I can handle. You’ve made her life a misery, and she’s made mine one. I can only seem to keep her happy with cash.
Lots of it.
So I had to get creative.”