See Chapter 1 for disclaimer, rating, and summary.
Chapter 2 - The Assignment
Joaquin Gardeno had dark hair, dark eyes, and deep creases on his face that made the shadows falling on it seem even darker. He tried to lighten his countenance by slicking back his hair and smiling a lot, but Riddick wasn't buying it. He's seen hundreds of men just like Gardeno before, and he knew how they worked. All ambition, manipulation, and no small amount of bullshit.
There was no point in hiding it. In fact, Riddick appreciated it a little; it was the predator in him.
That smile though . . . that smile was really beginning to piss the hell out of him.
Gardeno set both his elbows down on his desk and rested his chin on his steepled fingers. "Wine?" he offered.
Riddick just stared at him through his goggles.
Gardeno smiled even wider and poured himself a glass of the rich, red liquid. "No? Well, to be expected, I suppose." He took a sip and looked at Riddick over the rim of the glass. "I've been told you prefer blood, anyway."
"You said you got a job for me."
"Straight to the point. That's good." Gardeno pushed himself from his leather chair, walked over to the window of his office, and pushed the heavy curtain aside, all the while fully aware of Riddick's unreadable gaze. The light from the dying sun painted half of his face a disconcerting orange as he looked down at the quiet colony. Twilight on Terra Mala was a thing to behold. The dirt on the streets, the lean of the buildings -- they all seemed to dance with life during these few blazing moments, transforming the harsh, rocky landscape into a haunting still-life. He ran a possessive gaze over the dusty expanse below him.
"I want you to kill someone for me," he said abruptly.
"Done."
Gardeno turned back to him, smiling still, but with a coldness in his eyes. "You don't even know who it is," he said, almost amused.
Riddick's voice came out in a casual rumble. "Don't have to. I know the type."
"Ah." Gardeno nodded in understanding. "So you think this is just another hatchet job, then? Just another slimy politician hiring you to kill yet another slimy politician?"
"Is there any other kind?"
Gardeno's smile settled into a shark-like smirk to match Riddick's. He took a thoughtful sip of his wine before continuing. "I've heard a great deal about you, Mr. Riddick. Most of them from people who are now dead."
"I'm guessing they weren't very flattering things, then."
Gardeno shook his head slightly. "If I were you, I'd take what they said as a compliment. You're a good killer, Mr. Riddick."
"Just Riddick, and no shit." With the lazy ease of a big cat, Riddick leaned forward in his chair. He'd grown tired of Gardeno's small talk and knowing smiles. "Now unless you got a point to all this--"
"The point . . . Riddick . . . is this." Gardeno abruptly put his wine glass down and stood behind the desk, palms down, leaning toward Riddick. "You are good at what you do. Very good. You're a predator. You hunt other predators. It's a favorable arrangement for you. You simply think to yourself, 'Well, if I were so-and-so, I would do this.' So they do it, and just like that," he snapped his fingers, "they fall into your hands. It's an easy kill for you, because you know how they think -- you 'know the type,' as you say. You are the type.
"But this one -- this one is different, Mr. Riddick." Gardeno continued, his voice lowering with what almost seemed like reverence. "This one is no predator. The people have pledged their souls to this one. Not out of fear, no, but out of admiration. This is their leader, their hero. This one--" He stood up tall, stretching his arms out, relishing the drama, "--this one is their savior."
Then, as suddenly as lightning, the moment passed and Gardeno was standing before him, arms at his sides, smiling that smile again.
"And I doubt very much that you've ever been a savior."
Yeah, you would, wouldn't you? Riddick thought wryly, thinking back to a moment five years into his past. But that was a thought for another time.
His face was as stoic as ever, seemingly unruffled by Gardeno's exuberance, as he leaned back into his chair. "You doubt me so much, they why'd you call me in?"
Gardeno poured himself a fresh glass of wine and gulped a large mouthful down, as if trying to dampen his previous excitement. "Oh, that's where you're wrong. I don't doubt you, not at all. I just wanted you to know what you're up against. As for hiring you . . . well, not only are you good at what you do, you're also the best at it."
"And all your other people? They just incompetent, or don't they know what they're up against?"
"Oh, they try," Gardeno said, waving a hand dismissively. "I just don't think that any of them are quite as motivated as you are."
Riddick raised an eyebrow at him.
"They don't appreciate the hunt enough. Not enough incentive for them."
"And what makes you think I'm different?"
Gardeno chuckled. "I have eyes, Mr. Riddick. And I've also done my homework." He settled himself back into his chair and linked his fingers on his desk, keeping a casual eye on the large man in front of him. "I've seen your track record. Very impressive, but it hasn't helped your reputation any, am I right? I'm sure you've been adequately paid by your previous employers, but how many of them can you trust not to report you to the proper authorities once it suited their purposes? Let's face it, Mr. Riddick, a man of your . . . fame . . . does not easily shake that kind of attention, no matter how many favors they grant."
He paused and raised an eyebrow at Riddick as if expecting a response. When he didn't get one, he just continued. "I'm a powerful man, Mr. Riddick. A word from me, and your records will be wiped clean in all systems. You fix my problem and not only will you be rich, but you'll be free."
Riddick narrowed his eyes at Gardeno from behind his glasses. Something had been pricking at him, growing at the back of his mind until it had taken up full residence. He'd felt it since the beginning of the meeting; hell, he'd felt it since he docked his ship this morning and first set foot on the planet, feeling the sun blaze down on his exposed shoulders and the red dust bite into his skin. It had intensified when he was driven to this building, passing the meager, faceless line of people standing at the side of the streets, their eyes dark, blank, and as dead as the terrain. It was a voiceless warning that something was . . . off.
He felt it now, looking at Gardeno's smiling, shadowed face.
Riddick grinned back, teeth bared in a manner that was anything but amiable. Trouble was brewing, and that never failed to make his day. "Like I said," he rumbled. "Consider it done."
Gardeno's gleaming white teeth cut through the darkness in the office like a blade. "Good choice, Mr. Riddick."
We'll see, Riddick thought, that vague feeling setting off signals inside him. He set it aside for now; it was becoming increasingly apparent that he needed a clear head when dealing with Gardeno. "Now about this savior of yours . . . ." he said, tilting his head in a silent demand.
"Ah. Yes." Gardeno reached under his desk, and Riddick heard the sound of a low buzzer. Moments later, the door opened. Riddick turned, coldly scrutinizing the tall figure standing in the doorway. Gardeno raised a hand, indicating the visitor. "Victor Landers. He knows our quarry very well. I'll leave it to him to tell you all about her."
Riddick frowned. "Her?" For some reason, he hadn't counted on this.
Gardeno grinned. "Yes, your assignment is a she. That won't be a problem, will it?"
Will it? "No."
"Good. Because it certainly has been, in the past." Gardeno's voice didn't visibly change, but there was a slight edge to his words that didn't escape Riddick's notice. He looked back at Victor Landers who hadn't moved from the doorway, but who stiffened slightly under the comment.
"I trust you'll take care of our new acquisition, Victor," Gardeno continued. Without waiting for an answer, he stood and faced Riddick and clapped him on the shoulder, ignoring the hard glare it received. "If you're as good as I hope you are, this mission will end like all your others."
Riddick grinned dangerously. "I wouldn't worry, if I were you."
Gardeno's smile took an a cold edge, and his grip tightened briefly on his shoulder. "You must respect this one, Riddick," he said. Then he turned away from them both and moved back to the window, silently signaling the end of their meeting.
Riddick narrowed his eyes. This'll be a good one, Dicky boy. He turned to face the other silent individual in the room.
Victor Landers's pale blue eyes met his unflinchingly. "Follow me," he said, turned and walked out into the corridor.
Riddick stared after him for a moment before he strode out of the room, pausing only briefly to cast a final hard look at the president, whose gaze was still fixed on the deepening sky outside.
*****
They waited for the elevator in silence. Riddick didn't bother hiding his critical scrutiny of the man beside him. Victor Landers was almost as tall as him, and almost as built, with callused hands that have certainly seen more than their fair share of fighting. But there was a seriousness in the set of his face that spoke of more than just physical battles.
He was quiet, but his silence didn't grate on Riddick's nerves like Gardeno's. It might have to do with the fact that Victor Landers did not strike him as a smiler.
"So, do we get dental benefits for this?" Riddick said.
Landers spared him a look from the corner of his eye and didn't respond. He punched the button a few more times before grunting in mild irritation. "Stairs," he said curtly and gestured toward a door opposite the elevator.
Just then, the elevator doors slid open. A short, round man carrying a briefcase and looking distinctly frazzled stepped out. He barely glanced at Riddick before turning his attention to Landers. "Where is he? Is he in his office?" he said hurriedly.
Landers nodded.
The other man sighed and swiped a weary hand over his bald head. "Please, Vic, save my blood pressure and tell me he's in a good mood."
Landers gave a quick glance toward Riddick before answering. "I don't know. You know how he is." He looked down at the briefcase the man was holding.
The other man followed his gaze and grunted in disgust. "Yeah, I know, fuck me," he said. "What the hell -- I lost my coat, I might as well lose my job, too." He stared up at Riddick as if seeing him for the first time. "You're the new guy," he said, sounding a little surprised.
Riddick's mouth lifted at the corner. "I guess I am."
The other opened his mouth but Landers cut him off. "Billy," he said, warningly.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah. Don't get pushy on me, Vic." Shouldering his way past the two men, he scuffled down the long corridor toward Gardeno's office, muttering the entire way.
Landers held the elevator open and Riddick stepped inside. The doors slid shut and the cabin began a slow descent.
Riddick stared silently at Landers, who shrugged. "William Bendino," he said to the silent question. "Gardeno's right hand man. God knows why."
"Thought you'd be his right hand man," Riddick said, leaning against the other side of the elevator.
Landers paused a bit before replying. "I'm not obedient enough." Riddick cocked his eyebrow at this, but said nothing. "Neither are you, that's why you're working with me," Landers added.
Riddick crossed his arms. "It'd probably help if I knew what exactly we're working on."
Landers didn't answer until the elevator jolted to a stop and the doors slid open to reveal a long, gray corridor. Riddick sensed that they were underground, but didn't have time to analyze the fact as Landers led him through the hallway, made a sharp turn, and continued down another long path.
They walked in silence and stopped before a pair of heavy metal doors that stretched from floor to ceiling. Riddick's ears picked up the quiet whir of a hidden camera as it settled on them. Looking up, he scanned the darkened corners until his keen eyes spotted the camera's blinking red light.
Landers pressed a small button on the wall beside them, and a small square panel of the wall slid aside to reveal a computer screen.
"Access code required," said a mechanical voice.
Riddick watched as Landers punched in a series of numbers into the computer.
"Access code accepted. Begin retinal scan."
A thin red beam of light shot out from the screen. Landers looked directly at it, unblinking.
"Processing . . . . Scan complete. Access granted."
The panel slid shut. There was a loud click and the doors slid open with the quiet whisper of metal against metal. Riddick stepped through, barely acknowledging Landers as he stood beside him.
"Command center," Landers said in explanation.
"Shit, really?" Riddick said, sarcastic but approving as his gaze swept over the cavernous room, taking in the numerous screens mounted on the walls. Men in combat uniform pored over papers and monitors, barked into comms, and moved from desk to desk in controlled urgency. Several of them looked up at Landers and nodded respectfully at him before returning to their work.
"You'll get to know it and them--" Landers nodded at the busy handful of men around them, "--pretty well during your stay here. There are living quarters off to the side there," he said, nodding to a set of doors at the far end of the room. "I've loaded up your security profile. You have any problems with access down here, come to me and I'll fix it. And if you got any problems with your room, same thing -- you come to me and I'll fix it. None of us usually have any time to complain, though, as you can see."
"Pretty big setup for just a one-person manhunt," Riddick said.
"You'd be surprised," said Landers seriously. "Allen!"
A stocky man gnawing at a cigarette turned from his monitor and looked up at Landers's voice. "Yeah?"
Landers navigated his way past two desks and a small circle of muttering soldiers to stand behind Allen's chair. Riddick leisurely followed, taking in the movement around him and the stunned stares he was receiving. He stood beside Landers who was looking at the monitor over Allen's shoulder. "Anything happen since I left?"
"Ah, lemme see." Allen stubbed out his cigarette on the metal surface of his desk and turned to a stack of papers. "Yeah. Small shit. We had a riot on Sector 9. I sent Jimmy and a few others out on a sandcat to take care of it."
Landers frowned. "Was it organized?"
"Nah. Didn't look like it." Allen shrugged. "Coupla diggers got drunk off their bums and started messing around. Broken bones and fines all over the place. Nothing serious."
"Got any movement?"
Allen brew out a tired breath and jerked his head at the monitor. "Fuck, I wish. Either our little desert bitch took the day off or she's sprouted some roots. I haven't been getting any movement for days now."
Landers shook his head. "Just stick with it. Sector 2 was the last sighting. Get a ship up there to scan the area, maybe that'll help."
Allen grunted and took out another cigarette. "Soon as I find my to-do list, I'll get on it." He flicked open a lighter and nodded at Riddick over the flame. "Who's this?"
"Gardeno hired him to help us out." Landers stood aside to let Allen have an unblocked view of the silent, hulking man behind him. "Mike Allen, this is Richard B. Riddick."
Allen froze in mid-inhalation, the cigarette jutting out from his face, his cheeks hollowed as he stared up at the grinning mercenary. "Shit," he breathed, somehow speaking around the cigarette.
"Likewise," Riddick said, the glare from the monitor reflecting off his goggles and making him look even more ominous than usual.
"The others, you'll meet later. For now . . . ." Landers pulled up a chair and sat down in front of the empty monitor beside Allen. His fingers flashed over the well-worn keyboard for a few seconds, then he pushed the chair away so Riddick can have an unobstructed view of the screen. "Your prey."
Riddick watched as a blurry image appeared on the screen. The monitor whirred and beeped, and the image became sharper, more identifiable as a female face. Riddick narrowed his eyes as the features slowly began to take shape. The hell . . . ?
"Fuckin' slow computers," Allen muttered beside him. Abruptly he turned back to Riddick. "So what's that thing you do with intestines?"
Riddick ignored him, his attention fixed on the face that was slowly growing clearer before his eyes. Ah, hell no. No way am I this fucked. The image molded itself into a dangerously familiar face. Pale skin, dark wild hair, high, sweeping cheekbones . . . . A separate portrait was assembling itself in his own mind, his memories capturing the face in a vividness that was almost painful. That strange, troubling feeling rose up again, settling in a cold pit in his gut.
The monitor gave a final beep, and Riddick stared dumbfounded at the face on the screen. The lines of her face were sharper, more mature, and there was an unsettling darkness in her brown eyes that he doesn't remember from before. But there was no mistaking that defiant, daring glare on her face. Riddick clenched his hands; he didn't know if he wanted to smash the screen or laugh. Jesus, Jack, I thought I told you to leave me the fuck alone.
"That's her," Allen said, nodding at the screen and taking a puff from his cigarette. "It's true what mama said. The pretty ones give you the most trouble."
Landers's face was expressionless as he stared at the screen, the glow from the monitor making his eyes seem even paler. Presently, he cleared his throat. "She's gone by 'Jackie Montgomery' and 'Jacqueline Hunter,' to name a few," he said. "Her closest associates are known to refer to her simply as 'Jack.' The people just call her 'The Fox,' when they talk about her at all. Showed up on Terra Mala about four years ago on a cheap passenger ship. All alone, far as we could tell. She was pretty harmless for a while.
"A few months after her arrival, she starts causing trouble. At first, they were just some small, organized protests. Vandalism. Low-grade stuff like that. Then she got ambitious. One night, she and a couple of other civilians just decided to blow up one of the mines. Don't know how she pulled that off, but it worked. Completely demolished the place, even all the equipment and surrounding warehouses. Turns out she and the others had snuck past security and planted some homemade explosives all along the caves. They made a good run for a while, but she and the others got caught eventually and were sent to jail."
Landers paused and took a deep breath. Riddick pried his eyes away from the monitor to look at him. "And then?" he said, quietly commanding.
"Prison riot," Allen said. Riddick swiveled his head around and pinned the smaller man with his stare. Allen gulped. "It was just a month into their sentence. We still don't know how it happened, but when we finally got our noses into it, all hell had broken loose. A few of our men were held hostage for three weeks."
He seemed reluctant to meet Landers's eyes, Riddick noticed. "And . . . ." he prompted again.
"And in the end, she and a few others managed to get away," Landers finished tersely. "She's been on the run ever since. We've placed a bounty on her head, but that hasn't helped."
"Why not?"
"Because no one'll turn her in," said Allen. "We know she's got friends. And we know they've been hiding her. Trouble is, she's friends with practically the whole fucking colony."
Riddick turned his attention back to Landers. The man's face was grim, but stamped with a strange expression that Riddick couldn't identify, as he stared at Jack's picture. "How do you even know that she's still in the colony?"
"Because she feels bound to these people," Landers said quietly. "People like you and me can't understand that. Gardeno can't understand that. But whatever her reasons are, they won't let her leave."
"Which suits Gardeno just fine, in a way," Allen said, thoughtfully puffing away at his cigarette. "Because he doesn't want her just gone. He wants her dead." He gave a sideways look to Riddick. "Which is why he brought you along, I guess."
Riddick said nothing, and turned his face back to the monitor. Behind his goggles, his eyes were burning. Always knew you'd be trouble, he silently berated the image. The problem was that he was feeling distinctly proud of this girl whose eyes, even after all she'd evidently been through, held that fire that he couldn't help admiring. The girl on whose death his freedom now depended.
The girl you once saved, for fuck's sake! he furiously reminded himself. Jack's face seemed to glare at him from the screen. It really was Jack, the Jack from the planet, the Jack whose dogged adulation of him had annoyed him much less than he would have liked. She's not quite so young, and not nearly as innocent, but it was still her. And yet, there was something about the carefully restrained fierceness in her expression that shook him slightly. Riddick knew, somehow, that this girl did not need his saving.
He didn't know what to make of that.
Unbidden, Gardeno's smooth voice intruded on his thoughts. "You fix my problem and not only will you be rich, but you'll be free."
His frustration getting the better of him, he slammed his fist down on the metal desk, making Landers jump and Allen nearly swallow his cigarette.
Shit.
*****
The office was dark with night when Bendino finally nerved himself enough to enter. His blinked his eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness, and finally found the president's figure in front of the open window, silhouetted by the moonlight.
Bendino held the briefcase with both hands, hugging it tightly to the front of his body as if it were a shield. "Sir," he said finally, vaguely proud that his voice didn't crack.
Gardeno stayed silent and unmoving. Bendino began to think that he didn't even hear him when the president suddenly spoke without turning. "She didn't take it."
"N-no."
Gardeno turned on his heel to look at the shaking man. His teeth flashed in the darkness as he smiled at him. "You're not afraid to have disappointed me, are you Bendino?"
Bendino forced himself to shake his head. "No, sir."
"Good. Because you didn't."
"But . . . I thought you wanted her--"
"I wanted to see if their unshakable hero was as unshakable as they believed," Gardeno said. "Apparently, she is. Hopefully, though, she had to think about this one."
Gardeno sensed the other man's confusion even in the darkness. "William," he said calmly. "It was just a test. The only thing that would have disappointed me is if she'd accepted."
Bendino only nodded, his relief temporarily robbing him of speech.
"Now," Gardeno continued. "Early tomorrow morning, you will tell Landers her exact location. Tell him to find her and kill her. They won't succeed, of course, but don't tell them that. I just want them to try. There is someone else I would like to test."
Bendino nodded again, this time no longer bothering to try to understand.