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Authors: Brock E. Deskins

The Agent (25 page)

BOOK: The Agent
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“It’s not kidnapping. It’s more like bounty hunting.”

“Whatever you wish to call it, it leaves a splitting headache.”

“That’s probably just your bruised pride.”

“Impossible. I am quite certain Garran killed that long before you and I met.”

Karla chuckled. “Yeah, he’s good at that. Do you need out to relieve yourself?”

“If you would spare me such indignation, I would be appreciative.”

“Stick your hands out of the window.”

Adam shoved his hands between the bars set in the door.

“Not between different slots, you dumbass.”

Adam pulled one hand back out and laid it atop the other so there was not a bar separating them. “Again with the name calling. Are all agents so emotionally abusive, or are you and Garran just of similar disposition?”

Karla tied a leather thong around Adam’s wrists before opening the carriage door. “Liken me to Garran Holt again and I’ll let you ride all the way back to Leva ankle deep in your own waste.”

Adam stepped out of the wagon and hopped onto the ground. “I suppose that was a cheap shot, even toward a kidnapper. Pardon me, a bounty hunter. Are the bindings necessary? After all, I’m just a grown man. What am I going to do, kick your ass?”

“I don’t care if you are a twelve-year-old girl. I don’t take chances with prisoners.”

Karla guided him to edge of the small clearing and took a step back.

Adam looked over his shoulder. “You’re just going to stand there and watch me?”

“I would hold it for you if I thought you were stupid enough to run and make me chase you.”

“Maybe I am,” he said with a smile.

Karla shrugged and stepped toward him.

“No, I got it!” Adam exclaimed and turned away.

“Never try to bluff when you barely know how to play the game.”

She led him back to the campfire, sat him down on a rock, and poured them each a cup of coffee.

Adam sipped at the strong brew. “Thank you for the coffee—and the toilet break. The fractured skull I could have done without.”

“It’s nothing personal. Behave yourself and we’ll get along fine.”

“Does that include me as well? Then again, I rarely behave, so I guess it’s a moot question.”

Both pairs of eyes flashed toward the voice and locked onto Garran as he strode into the clearing, tin cup in hand. Thinking this had all been some elaborate ruse or lesson spiked Adam’s ire, but the fear Karla tried to hide behind her iron façade appeared quite genuine.

“Karla, I almost didn’t recognize you,” Garran said as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“It has only been a few years. Have I changed that much?”

“Hardly at all. It’s just that I never spent much time looking at your face in school. It wasn’t until I watched you peeing a few minutes ago that recognition dawned.”

“I see you haven’t changed.”

“Not true at all. I’m pretty sure my prick is bigger.”

“It certainly couldn’t get any smaller.”

“Hey!”

“He probably meant that he is a bigger prick now,” Adam quipped.

“That is definitely not possible,” Karla responded.

“Hey!” Garran gave Adam a baleful look. “I give you one simple order, and you break it by opening the door to the first pair of breasts the come knocking—splendid though they might be.”

Karla pressed a hand to her chest and smiled coyly. “Why thank you! I knew you could be sweet if you only tried.”

“You told me to stay put,” Adam defended. “You never said not to open the door.”

“It was implied, you idiot, and you still left!”

Adam looked at the ground, embarrassed. “She was very convincing.”

Garran looked at Karla’s breasts once again. “Yes, I’m sure they were.”

Karla set her cup of coffee down, the forced humor gone from her tone and visage. “So what now? Are you going to kill me?”

“Do I need to?”

Karla actually paused to consider the question before sighing and shaking her head. “No. I spotted you two riding into the city, saw an opportunity for early retirement, and I took it. It didn’t pan out, and I’m not stupid enough to try for a second shot. How did you find us anyway?”

“Do you think I would leave Pickle Tits over there alone without someone watching him?”

Karla bobbed her head. “Those damn street rats.”

“Best eyes and ears money can buy.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t scare them all away by exposing yourself before you could employ them.”

“It was one time, and that was an accident!”

“It was three,” Karla retorted.

“Actually, it is up to four now,” Adam said.

“And those are just the ones we know about,” Karla chided. “God only knows what he’s managed to keep secret.”

“Hey, I am the hero here! I’m the one who saved the Prince from assassination, I rescued him from your greedy clutches, and I’m the one who is bravely challenging the entire kingdom and The Guild! How about a little respect?”

Karla looked up at the dawning sky. “God, he is right. This just goes to show how bizarre a world we live in and how it’s surely all going to hell.”

Adam asked Karla, “Do you know anything about my sister or what’s happening at the palace?”

“Not a lot of reports about the Leva come through our office. I know she’s alive, pregnant, and causing a bit of trouble for Gordon. There’s some rabblerousing loyalists plotting and scheming, but The Guild has done a good job of keeping them suppressed.”

“I overheard you say something about a bounty,” Garran said. “How much is it?”

“A hundred thousand for the prince, another twenty for you.”

“I am impressed, yet I feel a bit insulted. I should think I’m worth at least fifty.”

Adam whistled. “A hundred thousand dinarins is a king’s ransom.”

“Apparently it’s a prince’s too these days. Inflation is really getting out of hand.”

“So what now?” Karla asked.

“I’m taking your horses, and Adam and I are going to complete our business.”

“Come on, Garran, leave me one. For old times’ sake?”

“I recall you quite rudely rebuffing me in
old times
.”

“I caught you spying on me while I was using the girls’ dormitory bathhouse!”

“Yeah, that was a good day,” Garran said, reminiscing. “My hand was so cramped the next day I couldn’t write my report on covert surveillance.”

“So gross.”

“Anyway, you might not try another snatching, but I won’t put it past you to snitch on us, so you’re hoofing it for a few days to buy us time.” Garran’s face grew unusually serious. “And, Karla, if I see you in Betham, I will kill you.”

“I understand. I hear Artemisia is beautiful this time of year. Maybe I’ll check out the Grand Galleon Parade.”

“You should probably avoid that too.”

“Where can I go?”

“Arnao is a safe bet.”

“Ugh, Arnao is a dump and boring as hell.”

“Not getting killed can be a dull affair at times.”

“Gotcha.”

Garran unhitched the two horses from the prisoner wagon and led them and Adam into the woods. It took several minutes for them to reach the horse Garran had left tethered to a tree.

“Can you ride without a saddle?” he asked Adam.

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“Figures. You take mine. It’s a good thing I’m no stranger to riding bareback,” Garran said and waggled his eyebrows.

“Is everything a sexual innuendo with you?”

“Of course not. Some things are a double entrendre.”

After a few adjustments, Garran was able to fashion one of the horse’s leads into reins and guided them out of the woods and onto the trade road.

Adam urged his mount to walk alongside Garran’s. “When I saw you come out of the trees, I thought this had all been some elaborate production of yours.”

“Why would I go through all the trouble to fake kidnap you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t understand half the things you do.”

“Find comfort in the fact that I still need you and will do everything I can to protect you.”

“What happens when you no longer need me?”

Garran studied the road ahead a moment before answering. “I have a wider range of options.”

Adam was unsure whether he was joking or not. They rode in awkward silence until reaching the edge of the capital.

“Were you able to arrange a private meeting with the King?” Adam asked as they passed through the gates.

Garran ducked his head. “I was.”

“When is it?”

“About three hours ago.”

Adam hung his head. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“What now?”

“Fortunately, there is an open court today. We’ll join the line of petitioners and make our proposal then.”

“Should we change into something more formal first?”

Garran wagged his head to the negative. “We’ll fit in better if we look like commoners.”

“All right. Garran, I’m sorry I went with Karla and got captured. It was stupid of me.”

“It’s not your fault. Karla is a trained field agent, and you’re…not.”

“I still feel as if you are angry at me.”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Garran looked up at the sky and drew in a long, slow breath. “The first task of every field agent is an assassination. Do you know who we have to kill?”

“I have no idea. Who?”

“Our own conscience. Emotions and acts of conscience have killed more agents than Urquan counter intelligence operatives. People who aren’t able to dispatch those two crippling attributes are bound to get themselves and others killed. Fortunately, mine had been in their death throws years before I even attended the university. Our little girl talk about my feelings resurrected a few spirits that are best laid to rest.”

“You caught onto that, huh?”

“I’m an agent with moderate training in psychology. It wasn’t exactly subtle.”

“Why did you share it with me if it is such a terrible sin?”

Garran shrugged. “I don’t know. Have you ever distilled alcohol? Of course you haven’t. When you boil the mash, sometimes you get too much pressure and you have to release some steam before your still explodes.”

“I thought that was what all of your fornicating and self-abuse was for.”

“I wasn’t talking about my steam.”

“Oh.” Adam rode in silence, pondering everything Garran had just said. “That’s why you got your friend expelled, isn’t it?”

“Aniston is a good kid. Hell, he cared about me. If that’s not proof that he was too soft for the job, I don’t know what is.”

“But wasn’t getting him expelled for his own good an act of conscience?”

“Anytime I can complete two tasks with one act, I’m going to take it. It’s not kindness. It’s efficiency.”

Adam looked straight ahead and beamed. “You care about people.”

“Shut up.”

***

Adam and Garran left their horses with a palace groomsman and joined the long queue of supplicants waiting to see the King and Queen. Sometimes the line moved quickly, at others, it crawled at a glacial pace. Garran was growing concerned that they might not reach the monarchs before they closed court for the day when they finally reached the antechamber.

Two men, one looking pleased and the other obviously dissatisfied with the judgment, departed. An attendant gestured for Garran and Adam to enter the court chamber. They stood near the antechamber door awaiting their turn as a well-dressed man addressed the two monarchs sitting on matching thrones atop a raised dais. An old woman, Adam thought perhaps one of the regents’ mothers, sat in a simple chair next to the Queen, knitting.

King Mathias looked bored, slouching on his throne, his head resting on his fist. Queen Ingrid, a plump, matronly woman in her fifties, sat attentively, her eyes sharp and giving the man her full attention.

Garran nudged Adam with his elbow and whispered close to his ear. “That thing you do to get us past the patrols and checkpoints, can you use it to gain us an advantage with the Queen?”

Adam clenched his jaw. “No, I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both!” he hissed. “It is against the law and deeply immoral. It is the very reason why god-touched cannot hold any position of authority or power.”

“Ingrid is already going to be displeased with our standing her up this morning.”

“That wasn’t our fault!”

“She doesn’t give a damn about excuses. If we cannot sway her support, then this will have all been for nothing. The Hillmen are not going to be enough, and without her part in my plan, they are all likely going to die once Gordon and The Guild decide to get serious about dealing with them. Do you want their deaths on your conscience? Don’t the lives of two thousand men, and your sister, outweigh a paranoid law or some silly-assed oath you made to the Church?”

BOOK: The Agent
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