Page 116 of Silent Ties

Ren Callahan gained the respect of the criminal underworld with one precisely lodged bullet. No one’s fucked with her since.

It helps that she fills an important position. Keeps the triggermen employed, and acts as an intermediary between parties. She runs a smooth operation from what I understand.

But for the life of me, I don’t understand why she called me.

Her head pops up and a warm smile takes over her face. She’s pretty, with shiny brown hair and bangs I could never pull off. Her blazer is polished but somehow not out of place in the more casual Fujimori’s. Maybe that’s because Ren is so deeply ingrained, she herself has become a part of the place.

“Hi,” she greets, in that same confident but friendly voice from the phone.

The girl next to her nods in greeting, her face drawn but not angry.

Ren motions for me to take a seat. There’s a booth on her side of the table, attached to the wall. On my side, there are chairs which give the distinct impression I won’t be here long.

“Thanks for coming in.”

I’m further taken aback by Ren’s manners. When she callsyou come. Everyone knows that. But I don’t know why she’s acting like I’m doing her a favor by appearing.

“This is Isolde,” she introduces, pointing to the girl beside her. She nods again but remains silent. “We were just talking about your ambush yesterday.”

Great.

“We’ve watched the footage on repeat.”

There’s footage?

“We hacked the feed,” Ren explains.

Right.

“You’re a good shot.” It takes me a moment to understand Isolde’s accent. I think she’s British.

“Amazing shot!” Ren speaks with her hands and there’s something endearing about it. About her.

I know she wields power but why did the Zimin’s react so strangely when she called?

“The way you walked in there,” Ren continues. “I mean cinematic.”

“Everyone’s talking about it,” Isolde says. “You’re definitely gonna have people wanking over it tonight.”

“Not to mention—”Ren flings a hand up—“shooting Davison’s dick off.”

Isolde nods, her face blank, but in a manner possibly considered enthusiastic. “Seriously, I’m a fan for life. Like the way you shot that cock off.”

I’m unsure of how to respond.

The young guy in the kitchen isn’t yelling anymore. He sticks his head out of the opening in the wall, separating the kitchen and dining area.

“What are we eating ladies?”

Ren looks at me. I stare back.

“Give us the special,” she replies over her shoulder.

“And a beer please, Abe.” A man drops into the booth beside Ren.

“Get the beer yourself,” Abe says to the regular before ducking away.

Isolde takes up the task, standing up and walking through the swinging kitchen door.

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