Page 53 of Rescued By the Convicts
“We’re in an apartment in one of the public rings. A safe house, essentially. This wasn’t part of the plan, none of it was. We’re lucky my access code still works after two years undercover.”
“What’s going on, Zev? First, it seemed like you were on our side, and then you were working for Namir. But I couldn’t believe you’d work for a man like him. Are you a spy for The Company or Namir?”
“Both.”
“And that’s another thing. You keep making odd statements as if you don’t even know who you are.”
Maybe he didn’t anymore. Until Namir had sent him to Veenith, he’d been falling deeper and deeper into his role, occasionally forgetting his mission, his oaths. . . his life before Namir. Then he’d met her and sobered up, recalling all the twisted things Namir had said to him. Melina had centered him at a time when he hadn’t even realized he’d needed it.
“Going undercover for long periods can be rather isolating, Mel. This last assignment has been harder than even I anticipated.”
“What assignment exactly?”
“The level of violence against The Company has been surging over the past three years. The string of bombing and murders at company offices on Barlis, Markell, Kordon, and Argus itself all had one thing in common. Criminals from Veenith were involved. Facial recognition confirmed the identity of the prisoners. Regardless of how they’d escaped Veenith, they shouldn’t have been able to enter those buildings with serilium tatts. The equipment was checked and showed no malfunction. We got a break when we finally captured a rapist who by our records was still on Veenith. His tatt was gone. No trace of serilium in his system. The Company sent me undercover to discover how Level 5 criminals have been escaping Veenith and getting rid of their serilium tattoos.”
“Why not just arrest Namir?”
“We didn’t know he was involved at first. We found the pilot who had picked up at least two criminals from Veenith. That was my insertion point, as a pilot looking for work. You know I’m a pilot as well, right?”
“No, actually. You said you were in information systems.”
“Oh, right. Sorry. There’s still a lot you don’t know about me.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “It can be hard keeping all the facts straight. The best lies are based on truth, but the safest approach is not saying much at all. That’s always been hard to do with you. There’s so much I wanted to say, to answer your questions, but doing so put us both at risk.”
“I guess I understand that. So you started flying prisoners off Veenith?”
“No, I flew simple cargo transports for a while and worked my way up in the organization. When I went undercover, my superiors and I didn’t know the organization led as high as Baccula’s Chief of Exports. They knew criminals were escaping Veenith and avoiding security checkpoints at space stations and in company offices, but they didn’t know how, not with that serilium in the prisoners’ bones. They know now, at least I hope they do. Contact has been spotty over the past eighteen months.”
“What happened when you found out Namir was in charge?”
“Nothing changed. I still had my mission. I did what I was told and let Namir grow to trust me.”
She chortled. “He trusts no one.”
“No one who vies for power. I made a point of showing a weakness for alcohol and women. Namir supplied me with both. He thought I was easy to control.”
“I’ve never seen you drink.”
He tugged the braid that she’d swung to her front. “That’s because I don’t. But I’m good at faking it.”
Her smile faded. “Were you. . . ever at any of his parties?”
She meant the ones where Namir had given her to his friends. He’d avoided those, having heard about some of the atrocities Namir committed and knowing he wouldn’t have been able to simply walk away if he’d seen a woman being used. Avoiding those parties had helped him maintain his cover, but he wondered about the cost.
“No, precious. I avoided them. I could not risk my mission.”
She nodded slightly, though he wasn’t sure she understood. He wasn’t sure he understood.
“You’ll always choose your mission over everything else—everyone else—won’t you?”
Fuck, why did she have to go there?
“Just tell me the truth. I can handle it.”
“Mel—”
“No, you’ve told enough lies to protect your mission, Zev. I’d like the truth.”
“The truth is, I don’t always know what I’ll do in a given situation. I was trained to think on my feet, to weigh the options and choose the best course per the mission.”
