Husk (24 page)

‘Shit,’ I say. ‘That’s Winslade’s attaché.’

Renard presses the button a fourth time, keeping his finger on it. The chime plays over and over in the office. I turn to Nikki and Tweek, who both look at me petrified.

‘Don’t let them up. They don’t know if anyone’s here.’

‘Um, Rhodes?’ Nikki says, pointing. ‘I’m not sure that’s going to stop them.’

I turn back to the screen. One of Renard’s men
has plugged a handheld device into the retinal scanner beside the door and is beginning to bypass security.

‘We don’t have much time,’ I say. ‘Tweek, copy those files.’

Tweek just stands there, eyes glued to the flat-screen, watching Renard and his men working to get through the front door.

‘Tweek?’

‘I can’t.’

‘What do you mean, you can’t?’

‘It’s not going to work, Rhodes. Every one of these
files is locked up tight. They’re just previews, all part of the auction system. Each video is for sale to members of the network only, and they must be purchased to be attained.’

‘Can you find a way around it?’

We watch as Renard and his men deactivate Solace Strategies’ security system. They’re through the door and on their way to the elevator.

‘Not with the time we have left,’ Tweek says.
‘You’re going to have to find another way to take Winslade down.’

Nikki grabs my arm. ‘You have to get out of here right now.’

She’s right. If I stay any longer I risk everyone’s safety more than I already have. I take out my pillbox and pluck out a twenty-four-hour pill. I break off a third of it and drop the piece into Tweek’s mug of coffee to dissolve.

‘Each of you needs to drink half of
this,’ I say, stirring with my finger. ‘It will render you unconscious for several hours. They can’t know that you helped me willingly with any of this. When you eventually come to, just play dumb. Tell Baxter and Renard that I forced you to surrender your computer access before I knocked you out. You know nothing more.’

‘They just got in the elevator,’ Tweek says, still looking at the flat-screen.

‘How are you getting out?’ Nikki asks.

‘Fire exit,’ I say and hold the tainted coffee out to her. ‘Now drink.’

Nikki takes the mug and holds it to her lips, drinks down half of the lukewarm liquid. Tweek holds his hand out and she passes it over before sitting down on the floor. He looks at the remaining half uncertainly, then back to Nikki who is already starting to pass out. I stuff the camera
and wireless transmitters into the handbag, sling it over my shoulder and take the razor blade out of my pocket. I risk another glance at the videos playing on the HG and feel my stomach churn. Ryoko is engaged in an unspeakable act, something which makes my blood run cold.

‘Shut it all down,’ I say.

Tweek nods, turns everything off with a few keystrokes, then tips back the mug and finishes
the coffee in two gulps.

‘Good luck,’ he says, removing his glasses. ‘And be careful out there.’

He slumps over his desk as I exit the control room. Quickly, I make my way across the office floor to the fire exit on the far side, where seventeen flights of stairs await. As I slip through the door I hear the elevator ping over by reception. Its doors open only seconds after the fire exit shuts
behind me.

I start running.

I clear the building without incident and head straight for the 34th Street subway entrance, checking over my shoulder the whole time. Avoiding cameras and hiding in crowds become my first priorities. Underground feels like the only place I can think straight.
I ride the train for over an hour, trying to figure out what to do next. No good comes from it. All I want to do is contact Ryoko, but I don’t dare turn on my Liaison. I’m positive it can be traced, certain that calls will come in from people I don’t want to hear from.

I stare at my hands. How long has this been going on? How many people have I hurt? How many have I killed? At a loss, scared
out of my mind, I finally get off the train and find an old payphone at Grand Central Station. I reluctantly dial Ryoko. She picks up after the second ring.

‘Hello?’

‘Sugarplum, it’s me,’ I say, unable to disguise the desperation in my voice. ‘It’s Rhodes.’

‘Cheesecake? Where are you?’

‘I shouldn’t say.’

‘Are you all right?’

‘Not even a little bit.’

Ryoko pauses, lowers her voice. ‘Phineas
has been calling me, said he’s been trying to reach you all evening. He
sounds a little freaked out, but won’t tell me anything. Baxter has tried to call me a few times too, but I haven’t answered.’

‘Good,’ I say. ‘Don’t talk to Baxter. I’ll get in contact with Phineas.’

‘What’s going on, baby?’

‘I can’t talk over the phone, sweetheart. Need to meet you in person.’

‘Sure. Where?’

I pause,
wondering if anyone is eavesdropping. The only way to play it is to play it safe.

‘Meet me in a half hour outside the restaurant where I ran into my sister.’

‘Okay …’

‘And Ryoko?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Make sure you’re not followed.’

I hang up and collect my thoughts, thoughts that dance around Phineas. It takes me a minute to formulate a decent plan. I pick up the receiver, dial his number. He picks
up after the first ring.

‘ ’ello?’

‘Phineas, it’s me, Rhodes.’

‘Rhodes, Jesus, I’ve been trying to get hold of you. Where are you?’

‘Can’t say. Not over the phone. It’s not safe.’

‘What the hell is going on, mate? Baxter’s been calling me non-stop trying to find you. She says it’s important, says it’s an emergency. Did you lose your phone or something today?’

‘I lost a lot more than that,’
I say.

‘Meaning what?’

‘My innocence and ignorance for starters. I’ve uncovered something real big and real bad at Solace. Need to meet you face to face and tell you more. It involves us Husks and we need to figure out what to do about it.’

‘Okay, now you’re scaring me.’

‘You should be scared, my friend.’

‘Where and when do you want to meet?’

‘I’m on my way now to link up with Ryoko. Meet
us in two hours at the hotel where you and I first met on the job, that time we were hired as escorts for those two cougars. Remember it?’

Phineas grunts. ‘Remember it well, mate.’

‘Go now,’ I tell him. ‘Book a suite with cash, text Ryoko the room number only and wait for us to show. Make sure you’re not followed.’

‘Consider it done,’ he says and hangs up.

A light rain falls over the city.
Ryoko is already standing under an awning outside the restaurant when I get there. As soon as I reach her I throw my arms around her and hold tight, press my face into her neck. The tears come easily, despite my efforts to hold them back. The collar of her jacket soaks them up as I cry.

‘It’s all right,’ she says. ‘Tell me everything.’

Sniffling and sobbing, I spill my guts. The only thing I
leave out is the worst act I saw her commit on video. The one I can’t bring myself to admit I witnessed.

An hour later we get into a cab and tell the driver to take us to the Algonquin Hotel. As the cab speeds through the wet streets of New York we hold each other in the backseat. I keep looking at Ryoko, expecting her to look shaken and stressed by the things I’ve told her, but the looks she
gives back are cool and composed. She tells me we will find a way out of this together. Halfway to the hotel Ryoko’s Liaison pings and she checks the screen. Phineas has sent her a number: 314.

We arrive at the Algonquin and wait in the lobby for the elevator. As I stand there I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. A mew comes to my ears and I turn to see the hotel’s resident cat curled
up on a seat nearby. This guardian of the underworld fixes its slit-pupils on mine, holding my gaze until the elevator arrives. It meows again as the doors open. Upon entering the elevator I glance over my shoulder to see the cat sit up straight, staring at me like I’m prey. It paws the air, a wave hello, or possibly goodbye. The doors close and I’m left feeling disconcerted about the brief encounter.
The cat’s eyes play on my mind as we ride up to the third floor and find room 314. Ryoko raps on the door. Phineas is quick to open it.

‘Come in, come in,’ he urges, ushering us inside. ‘Thank God, I was beginning to worry about you two.’

‘You weren’t followed?’ I ask.

‘Not to my knowledge,’ he replies. ‘I tried to make it difficult to tail me if anyone was trying.’

Phineas locks the door
behind us. The room he’s rented is small, claustrophobic. Ryoko takes off her coat and sits
on the edge of the double bed. I pull up a chair from the desk in the corner and plunk myself down, dropping the handbag to the floor.

‘You guys all right?’ Phineas asks. ‘All this cloak-and-dagger stuff has got me more than a little spooked here.’

‘We’re safe for the moment,’ Ryoko replies.

Phineas
nods. ‘So … can you tell me what’s going on exactly?’

‘My God,’ I say, running my fingers through my hair. ‘Where do we start –’

I look to Ryoko and stop. She’s looking at Phineas with concerned eyes. Then I see what it is that is bothering her. Two of Phineas’s fingers are broken, secured with splints and taped up in clean, white bandages. The injury is recent.

‘What happened to your fingers,
man?’ I ask.

‘Careless client,’ Phineas replies, brushing off my question. ‘Said it was hang-gliding mishap.’

‘Hang-gliding?’

‘That’s what I was told.’

I look at his broken fingers again, can’t help but think he’s full of shit. Something else doesn’t seem right. Phineas’s accent sounds odd, fluctuating between Cockney and something else. I realize he hasn’t called me
mate
once since I’ve arrived.
I get up from the chair and take Ryoko’s hand in mine.

‘Let’s go down to the lobby and get a drink,’ I say. ‘I could use one after what I’ve been through today. We’ll find a quiet table and I’ll tell you everything.’

‘What’s wrong with this room?’ he asks.

I laugh. ‘No booze for starters.’

‘There’s some in the minibar.’

‘I think we need a proper drink.’

I start for the door, leading Ryoko
behind me. Phineas steps into our path, reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a Beretta M9. He aims the gun at stomach level.

‘Please, sit back down.’

‘Phineas? What the hell are you doing?’

His accent completely dissolves, changing to American. ‘Your friend Phineas isn’t home right now, Mr Rhodes.’

The smile Phineas gives us is one I’ve never seen before on him. Ryoko and I sit back down
on the bed, our eyes fixed on our friend being used as a trap. I piece it together. They must have got to him soon after I called. He managed to hold out for the first broken finger, but the second one caused him to confess. Phineas keeps the gun trained on us as he brings out his Liaison and makes a call using speaker phone. Renard’s voice answers on the other end.

‘Yes, Mr Winslade?’

‘He showed
up at the Algonquin,’ Phineas says. ‘I’ve got him.’

‘On my way, sir,’ Renard replies. ‘ETA less than ten minutes.’

Phineas hangs up and looks me in the eye. ‘This will all be over soon, my boy.’

I hold his gaze. There is a difference in those eyes. I can see it, that deviancy Ryoko mentioned over dinner, the eyes of an impersonator, an imposter. The unwelcome guest is looking out of those windows
to Phineas’s soul, moving behind the reflection in the glass, a visitor whose fondness of me knows no bounds. Before I know it, I’m
standing up and taking a step toward him. He cocks the hammer back on the Beretta, raising it to eye level.

‘Stay, boy.’

I shake my head. ‘You won’t kill me, Mr Winslade.’

‘Maybe,’ Phineas says, turning the muzzle of the gun toward Ryoko. ‘But I will most certainly
kill your woman.’

‘Don’t you
dare
point that at her.’

‘I’m willing to comply, Mr Rhodes, if you’ll be so good as to sit back d–’

All the lights in the room flicker once and then go out, a rolling blackout temporarily painting the suite pitch black. Whether it’s a touch of fate, or stroke of dumb luck, it’s my only chance. I lunge at the spot where I last saw Phineas and crash into him. The
gun goes off, muzzle flash lighting up the interior in a single strobe, the round going into something soft. I hear a gasp. When the lights come back I’m struggling on top of Phineas, trying to keep the gun from pointing at me. I look up and all I see is Ryoko and blood.

‘No!’

She slumps back on the bed, arms wrapped around her torso like she’s shivering. I can’t tell where she’s been hit. My
fists beat on Phineas beneath me in a blind rage. He defends himself poorly, but I fail to see his arm swing up to my head. The butt of the Beretta slams into my temple, sending me sprawling. I land on my back and he’s on me in seconds, straddling me, bringing the gun around.

‘Time’s up,’ he pants. ‘You’ve become more trouble than you’re worth.’

A moment later I’m staring down the hollow black
eye
of the barrel. Phineas pulls the trigger just as I grab the muzzle and shove it aside. The bullet misses my head, grazing my ear, deafening me in the process. With all my might I wrench the gun out of Phineas’s grip and toss it. The next instant his hands are closing around my throat. His contorted, angered face hovers over mine. Saliva seeps through his bared teeth and drips onto my cheek.
The ringing in my ears hardly lets me hear what he’s saying, sounds like he’s speaking through thick glass.

‘The only good witness is a dead witness.’

The grip feels inhumanly strong, denying me air instantly. I claw at him, but can’t pry his crushing fingers from my neck. I feel the fight in me weakening as I struggle. The edges of my vision begin to blacken. With one last effort I strike upwards
with my knee and catch Phineas in the balls, hard enough to knock him off. He rolls over, manages to get to his knees, a defeated look on his pained face. I roll over and crawl toward the gun. Phineas reaches for something in his jacket, going for a back-up piece I figure, maybe even a Rapier. As my hand curls around the Beretta’s grip I hear Phineas make a strange noise.

I spin around and bring
the gun up, aim it right between Phineas’s eyes, eyes that in a sudden flash display confusion and horror. He starts to raise a hand, the one with the broken fingers. His other hand starts to pull something out of his pocket.

‘Rhodes, mate –’

But I’ve already pulled the trigger. Phineas’s head rocks back, a splatter of dark, meaty red exploding out the base of his skull. The eyes, eyes that
are his now, roll back to
show only whites. A cobalt-blue device slips from his fingers onto the floor with a clunk, green lights blinking on its exterior, signifying a successful transfer.

‘Oh God,’ I croak.
‘No.’

Phineas’s body crumples to the carpet, twitches once, then stills. The smell of cordite fills the air. Ryoko moans on the bed. I get up and stumble over to her, stuffing the Beretta
in the waistband of my pants. She’s been hit in the arm, bullet gone through and through. There’s blood everywhere. I help her to sit up.

‘We have to leave, now.’

Ryoko nods, her eyes falling first on Phineas’s body, then the cobalt-blue thing lying beside him. She says nothing, rising from the bed and reaching for her coat as I grab the handbag from the floor. I lead her out of the room and
down the hall to the elevator. On the way down I use my necktie as a tourniquet to tie off her bleeding arm before draping her jacket over her shoulders to hide the injury.

At the ground floor the elevator doors open on a frantic scene. The lobby of the hotel is chaos, reports of gunfire sending people into a panic. Hotel security calls for calm, reassuring guests that the police are on their
way and that the hotel is safe and secure. Ryoko and I slip by unnoticed in the confusion and head for the entrance. We’re halfway across the lobby when I see Renard and his two goons enter through the front doors. Quickly I turn away, but he spots me within seconds.

‘You!’ he shouts. ‘Stop!’

Ryoko and I start to run. Renard reaches inside his
jacket and draws his Rapier. From the corner of
my eye I see him level it at us as we duck among a crowd of hotel guests and employees. I hear the Rapier discharge twice and watch as a round takes off a bellhop’s head beside me. The second round hits someone unseen, making them shriek with pain. Maybe Renard is being overzealous, or maybe Winslade will take me dead or alive at this point.