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Interstellar Marines: Predators
Chapter 3: Alpha Males
"Damnit David, I've never seen such a bunch of pretentious assholes."
"Well sir, I'm sure they-..."
"Shut up. I wasn't talking to you."
Technically, he had been talking to the aide. But when you were the chief executive of a prominent company specialising in genetic research and its applications, technicalities were just that. And walking out of the board meeting, McGraw Hill's mind was on a range of issues that didn't extend to the formalities of language.
"Unacceptable Hill. This is simply unacceptable."
"Losing a valuable item? Why wasn't there more security?"
"Think of public relations, about having two bodies on our hands."
"Imagine how much we'll lose through compensation."
"Hill, are you even listening?"
Hill had been listening. Listening to the bunch of nimwads spend a good three hours playing the blame game, most of said blame going to UniStrand's chief executive. Never mind the slash of the budget last year that cut into how much they could spend on security. Never mind the fact that many of them were running scared that the bartering of non-cleared genetic goods could poke holes in their golden parachutes if word got out to an authority with enough power to be able to avoid sticking its head in the sand.
Well, better a head in sand than a head in one's arse...the man thought as he continued to head down the corridors of the UniStrand Building's top floor. The leeches that constituted the board would be heading down the elevators to ponder his future, but in the meantime, he wanted to put as much distance between himself and them as he could.
Not for his benefit. For theirs. Best to end the day with only two casualties.
"Say, David..." the CEO began.
His aide looked up. "You...you're talking to me this time, sir?"
"Yes, I am. But only for you to arrange a meeting with our chief of security. There's a leak somewhere, and despite what the board says, that's our top priority."
"Yes sir," replied the aide as he typed on his data pad. "Although I don't know what we'll be able to get out of that angle. From what I've heard, only one of the three guards has a chance of-..."
"David?"
"Yes?"
"Stop talking now."
The aide nodded and took a left between some cubicles to head for the elevators, already being filled up by old men and women that if Hill was lucky, he wouldn't be seeing again for the next twenty-four hours. But if running UniStrand had taught Hill one thing, it was best not to rely on luck. At best, it could leave you disappointed. At worst, as three unlucky men had found out this morning, it could leave you dead.
Well, at least they could rest in peace. Unlike Hill, who entered his office and collapsed into his chair, found rest hard to come by.
"And in other news today, the Eastern New South Wales government insists that it will keep its election promise of upgrading all of City Rail with maglev technology by-..."
Hill shut the radio off.
It didn't help.
Rubbing his eyes with one hand as he took off his tie with another, Hill gazed around his room, its cleanliness mirroring the top floor and most of the building as a whole. It mirrored himself too-short black hair on both his head and facial area, an athletic build that was hard to find in an office environment...when he'd first started working for UniStrand, some people had called him "cowboy" for it-someone out of place both physically and, considering that he actually hailed from the United States, geographically as well. And the fact that he'd spent most of his twenties and early thirties in border patrol. Unfortunately, guarding the border between Mexico and his homeland was no way to get any excitement out of life, with incidents being few to non-existent. He'd seen it as a stepping stone to being posted on the more...adventurous border and the Democratic Republic of Alaska, but since ITO had taken over that job, it seemed that all his experiences were for naught. No-one would be interested in his stories of pulling over people who, if they were trying to enter the US illegally, were doing so for reasons that were often in the realm of expired passports.
Apparently it had been different over a century ago, Hill thought, as he rubbed his eyes. Good times...
So in the end, border patrol was going nowhere. UniStrand however, was, even if Sydney wasn't. No-one cared about a sedate career in California, but they did care that he'd studied business-enough to land him a job and set him on a course up through the ranks and levels of its Sydney headquarters. More challenging than anything else his life had provided thus far, and considering the role GMCs played in the world, arguably more important. So now, in his late forties and the CEO of a thriving business, things were looking up.
At least until today. All he could do now was look down to the loading dock, now being combed over by the police in what PR had managed to claim was an activist attack.
"Mister Hill?" asked a voice.
"Hmm?" the CEO asked, his mind drawn out of memories by the sound of his office's intercom.
"Mister Hill, there's a call for you," came the voice of his secretary. "A Mister Williams would like to talk to you."
"...patch him through."
Rising to his feet and closing his office's shutters, Hill briefly wished he was using a good 'ol fashioned phone instead of a holo-projector, wanting nothing more than to lie down and take part in a conversation how everything from gunfights to global warming was his fault. Yet it was a wish that didn't last long. Important men had the best technology, and aspired to be the best they could be as well. He'd use the holo-projector because he could. And it would also show whoever contacted him (bar telemarketers of course-Jeanne always screened them out herself) that he was willing to meet them face to face...as far as technology could provide that was. And it being Mister Williams calling...
"G'day mate. How are ya?"
...It being Mister Williams, only low-lifes like him could do such a poor portrayal of this country's accent.
"Fine, Williams..." Hill lied.
"Really? I wouldn't have thought so?"
"Why?"
Williams let out a snigger that took Hill back to the board meeting, with all the smugness that was present in those that wanted him gone. "What, haven't you been listening to the radio? Nasty spot of bother in your garage. Some activist attack that your security guards failed to stop."
"No-one listens to the radio anymore Williams. Not for news anyway."
"Hmm...maybe that's why no-one's buying the government's latest crap on maglev trains."
"And if you don't get to the point, I'm not buying any of your crap."
In the past, the game of words could go on for a whole ten minutes. Hill knew his line was secure, but Williams didn't get to be the buyer and seller of illicit items that he was without making his own checks. Hill had dealt with him in the past often enough to know that while Williams was a lowlife, he was more in the realm of the cockroach than, say, malaria. While the latter had finally been eradicated, the former would probably be here even after the sun went nova.
"Well then, down to the crap then," Williams declared. "Little something to make up for what you lost today. Little something to soften the pain..."
Hill sighed. Not a cockroach. Some kind of spineless lifeform that was native to Mars for all he knew, feeding off the misery of others. Still, better Mars than the homeworld of the board members. And better to listen to him than cut him off...
"I'm listening..."
Sally Goulet was blue.
Not emotionally of course. Right now, with a tidy sum of money having been wired to her off-planet account, she was quite satisfied. No...Goulet was blue, as in, blue was who and what she was. An alias. A codename. A term that made her old one redundant.
Sitting in a car nestled in one of the city's many free parking areas, Blue certainly didn't look like the kind of person that would be using a codename. But as she and numerous others had learnt, looks could be deceiving. Applying for the Interstellar Marines years back had looked like a good job choice, but unable to cope with the psychological pressures of being in space, she'd washed out, albeit washing out with mastery of everything else that ITO's premier military branch had taught her. Earth had looked peaceful and orderly up to that point, but even tension between ITO and CoSEA nations not-withstanding, there was still plenty of work for someone of her calibre to perform on the third rock orbiting the sun. And thanks to a facelift, she looked like an old lady, someone who hadn't moved with the times of cell regeneration and other such treatments. A choice on her own part. Make her foes underestimate her, and her employers to value her even more.
Not that the security guards she'd shot this morning had got a chance to actually see her face, considering that she'd been wearing a stealth suit at the time that covered her entire body. But now, sitting in her car on a pleasant day, far removed from the sound of sirens, no-one would suspect her. The police were on the lookout for some kind of activist that knew how to wield firearms and explosives, not some dear old lady listening to the radio. Listening to a broadcast that was far more interesting than the usual empty promises that came from an election year.
"Why should I deal with you Williams? Last I heard, you were dealing with monkey legs."
"Heads, actually. And I sold Bob this afternoon."
Blue let out a grin. She knew Williams, or rather, knew of him. She hadn't dealt with the man herself, but from what she'd come to understand from interactions with her various employers, he was but one of many suppliers of illicit goods, ranging from the technological to the biological. She wasn't quite sure how monkey heads fit the bill, but heck, the piece she'd stolen from UniStrand could have been an ape's rectum for all she knew.
"But I've got something even better. Sharks."
Sharks? The assassin wondered.
"Sharks?" came the voice of McGraw.
Well, at least the CEO's reaction was genuine. As secure as his private line supposedly was, it still hadn't stopped her from bugging it when she'd entered the building a few weeks back (under orders from HelixRail) disguised as an electrician. It was under orders from her most recent employer, HelixRail, and through the information she'd gained, that they knew when and where UniStrand's next illicit shipment would come. They got what they wanted, she got what she wanted, and if that had been the end of the story, she'd have already been on a flight out of the country to spend her earnings by now.
"Yeah man. Sharks. Like you've never seen."
But it wasn't the end of the story. The tap was still active, and it seemed that UniStrand's CEO was in the midst of arranging another drop.
"Why should I trust you? Like you said, an...activist interrupted our last delivery."
"Yeah, but that wasn't from me, was it?" Williams asked. "Besides, these little babies are beauts. Got them from some ITO scientist. All the way from a space station if you can believe it."
"In this day and age? Course I can believe it. It's believing you I'm wary of."
"Fine man. I'm sure your competitors will be more interested in whatever genetic research ITO's conducting."
And Blue as well. She wasn't sure how much monkey heads or space sharks went for in the corporate world, but material straight from an ITO research station? Williams could have been lying of course, but if it was true...well, it was interesting. Both out of personal curiosity and the prospect of the pay cheque she'd receive for delivering such quality goods if it came to it.
"Well, Mister Hill?" Williams asked. "Do you still want to be king of the hill? Or stuck being McGraw?"
"...Fine. I'll do it. I'll send someone around to pick up the goods."
"Alright...But wait until this evening. The cops are out in force, and I don't want to be mixed up in your little corporate war."
"Shame...For someone who's so full of himself, you'd make an excellent shield."
And with that, the conversation ended.
Blue remained silent for a few moments, drumming her fingers on the car wheel, as if she was actually going to use it on a model that had auto-drive. There'd be more to come in the communications between the two. But that meant waiting, and the longer she waited, the more likely it was her tap would be discovered. Certainly after her hit, UniStrand would be seeking to investigate the possibility of a leak within their organization. And it wasn't as if she hadn't just been paid handsomely for her past work.
On the other hand, money was money. You could never have too much of it. And if she performed another job for HelixRail, chances were they'd be more likely to hire her again in the future. Not that she had any intention of selling herself to just one organization, but making that organization be more likely to employ her was a definite bonus. And with the thought of how far that bonus could go, Blue soon found herself typing a number on her sPhone.
"Welcome to HelixRail, this is Martin speaking, how may I help you?" came a voice on the other end.
"Well, that's just it, Martin," Blue smirked. "Thing is, I was wondering how I might be able to help you..."
Update (06/04/2012): Corrected spelling and grammar errors, along with tweaking some wording. Also:
-McGraw Hill isn't a reference to the company. Same situation as Ian Holm(es) I'm afraid, as explained in ch. 1.
-In all honesty, I never intended Blue's original retrieval to be a plot point beyond establishing her capabilities and introducing Fellman into the story. Maybe an oversight, but for those wondering the same way, don't bother.
