“Why are you here, Connor?”
There we go. Now he’ll understand.
“Nexus gave you an order. He told you to kill Shireena Balance. You screwed up. Made an excuse. He ain’t big on excuses. Frankly, it’s too bad you failed. She’s not worthy of Trevor. Too late now. Nexus doesn’t want her touched. Says she’s valuable.”
He paused for a quiet puff and to watch Thomas squirm.
“Nexus might have forgiven your lapse. You just couldn’t let go of the past. He told you to leave my brother alone. You didn’t listen.”
Does he know what’s about to happen here? I think so.
Thomas did a poor job putting on a brave front.
“Yes. Fine. I was jealous. I made a mistake.”
“Which was?”
“I tried to sabotage Trevor. It didn’t work, and I’ve been loyal ever since. Ask him. Ask Shireena. I’ve done good work on Shadow Gambit. I’m looking after the station’s health.”
Now he’ll pretend to be repentant. Not bad.
“It’s a perfect front. Hand me your pom. Now.”
“What?”
“Hand it over or I’ll take it. Your choice.”
He knows.
“You’ll have to kill me first.”
“That’s an option. Thomas, we know what you’ve been doing with the phantom drill. You pom contains full access to every system and secret on Amity. You’re preparing to sell it to Black Star. You met with an agent. When the deal’s finished, you intend to set up my brother. Make it look like he was the seller. The Collectorate’s ultimate traitor. After all these years, you’d finally destroy Trevor.”
Thomas started for the kitchenette. Connor wondered whether he hid an unregistered pistol, a potential irritant.
Time to move this thing along.
Connor dropped his cigar into the rum glass and followed his prey.
“Did you think Nexus didn’t know?”
“You’re mad, Connor. This is not true. I have been nothing but loyal to Trevor and ...”
“It’s over. You were never alone, Thomas.”
The host opened a drawer.
“You don’t want to do this,” Thomas said.
“A year ago? Probably not. I’m a different man. We grabbed Niles Acasta an hour ago. He filled in the gaps.”
Thomas swung around, six-inch blade in hand.
“Fair warning. Leave.”
That’s it?
“Just think, if Trevor hadn’t given you a promotion, you’d have a station-issued pistol. That’s some bad luck, old friend.”
“We are not friends.”
“True. But isn’t that how you speak to Trevor? He was generous. Gave you a job because he wanted to repay your parents for their kindness. Brought you into Central. Gave you a nice office.”
Connor reached out his left hand, close enough for one swipe of the blade to prove painful.
“Game’s over, Thomas. Hand me your pom.”
How did it feel to come so close to ultimate victory, only to be cut down inches from the finish line? Shock? Terror? Fury? He’d have to contemplate those questions later. In the meantime, Connor made a command decision: He did not want to ruin his new suit. Quite a price stamp on a soldier’s pay.
The rest was easy.
Connor lunged at Thomas with a drop kick. The knife landed on the counter. Before Thomas could think about retrieving it, Connor let go of his last restraints. A left hook. A right. Then three more rights.
Teeth and blood spewed from Thomas as he staggered toward the bedroom.
“Just remember,” Connor said. “I asked. Twice.”
He grabbed Thomas by the neck and shoulders and slung the man head-first into the cabinetry. Thomas jerked backward into a freefall, his forehead bloodied. He laid on the floor, moaning.
