“Lord Bache has a message. Effective tonight, your party will end its opposition to Code Exodus.”
Estefan’s cheeks dropped. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, rage in his eyes.
“He sent you here for that? He knows we are unmovable. What is this actually about?”
“Your family,” Kaz said. “You love them?”
Estefan’s anger abated. He dropped the cool demeanor which greeted the emissaries.
“No. You wouldn’t. Leave them out of this.”
“It’s too late,” Connor said. “Code Exodus will benefit every family on Catalan. Your kind are fighting the future. We won’t allow it.”
Estefan rose to his feet and revealed a pistol which he aimed at Connor then Kaz then back again.
“Leave my home. And tell Lord Bache: We are coming for him. The Cauldron is a relic. You will never drag us into the past.”
“He expected you to respond this way,” Connor replied. “Please accept his reply.”
Kaz heard Connor’s trigger word. He moved with lightning speed. A green laser bolt cut into Estefan above his left temple. One of the most influential wordsmiths of Barca City yelped then fell into the couch on his side. Steam drifted from the hole in his head.
“I love the theatrics, bruv,” Connor said.
“I’m with you. Brings some flair to the job.”
“It does. OK, we have four minutes and ten seconds.”
“Should be enough time. Inside?”
Connor studied his glasses, which showed nine heat signatures gathered in what appeared to be a kitchen. The rest of the suite was empty.
“I have to finish Estefan, but yes. Let’s get this out of the way. Just be on alert: Those three animals outside will be coming in from our flank.”
“Assuming they haven’t already taken a runner. They actually believe we tagged them.”
Connor retrieved his pistol.
“I’ll take the left. You finish the right.”
“On it, mate. On it.”
A light seeped through a door at the suite’s far end. Laughter and singing erupted from within.
At least they’ll have a happy ending.
The soldiers left nothing to chance. No hesitation. No observation.
Only targets to be eliminated.
After Connor threw open the door, they fired.
The cheers turned to silent shock before any victim had a chance to understand fate’s tragic kiss. They fell in orderly fashion. From teen girls to grandparents, most holding wine glasses.
They were collaborators, even the ones who didn’t know. Families like theirs were bringing chaos and death in the name of sovereignty. People like Lord Estefan could never have achieved their status without Black Star’s pay stamp.
They deserved to die. All of them.
Connor and Kaz quickly checked for survivors, finished off a pair with additional head shots, and prepared to face an armed response.
The moment they emerged into the living area where lamplight and a dead man were the stars, a barrage of white projectiles hit them from a Mark 12.
Just one rifle.
Mr. Steadfast greeted them.
Several bolts burnt holes through the trench coats only to be absorbed by the superflex. The rest was simple.
Their enemy did not equip himself with the same defense. They dropped him with ease and waited for his buddies to join the fight. When no one else entered the double doors, Connor grunted.
“Cowards, too.”
“I’ll take them out,” Kaz said. “Finish Estefan.”
“On it. Gas the other suite when you’re done.”
“Pleasure.”
Connor stood over Lord Estefan and shook his head at the pitiful creature, eyes staring into forever. He repositioned the body to sit upright on the couch. Connor opened the man’s robe and shredded the thin shirt beneath. Then he set his bucket hat aside.
