High Flyer - Michelle Diener Page 0,26

“Fucker. This warehouse is my business. Questions are going to be asked, and this property is registered to me.”

“I've been left hanging out to dry, too, if you hadn't noticed.” Oniba's voice was soft. “With Lancaster dead, there's no way I can go back onto Sugotti's payroll. The point of no return has come and gone.”

“No shit.” Vannie turned, eyes widening when she saw Iver was awake. “Well, well, well. Look who's back among the living.”

Simon and Oniba spun toward him.

Iver didn't like the look on Simon's face. A need to cause pain, to lash out, was clear in his eyes and in the twist of his lips.

At least Hana got away.

Oniba crouched in front of him and Iver narrowed his eyes as he saw a rivulet of dried blood on the side of his face.

“What do you think I can tell you? Just yesterday you tried to kill me more than once. Why the interest in what I have to say now?”

“Do you know who blew up the Dynastra?”

“No. Obviously no one friendly to me, or they'd have picked me and Hana up. And they'd have checked first to see if I was in the runner before they vaporized it.”

"True." Oniba blinked and rose to look at the others. He rubbed at his temple as if he was in pain, and judging by the blow he'd taken, he was. “It can't be the VSC."

"Then who?" Vannie asked, exasperated.

“Either someone in our little group has decided to cut out as many of the top layer of management as possible to maximize their own profit, or . . .”

“No.” Vannie shook her head. “A common goal holds us together. There's no betrayal.”

“I think you're thinking of a time long before the war.” Simon's voice was soft, and not unsympathetic.

“I won't believe that. Who else could it be?” Vannie put her hands on her hips. "The Caruso?"

"Why not? We were planning to see if they were interested in what we had to offer anyway.”

“Eventually, when we knew what we were dealing with. How did they find out about us?”

“Maybe someone in the group put out a feeler? Thought they were doing us all a favor.” Oniba scrubbed at his face.

“And the Caruso pricked up their ears and came looking to muscle us out?” Vannie's voice was heavy with skepticism.

“It isn't their thing, I agree.” Simon nodded toward her. “They're after minerals. Every time they've been caught out recently, it's been mining-related.”

“Maybe it's primarily mining,” Oniba conceded. “But the VSC has shut them down three times in a row. Maybe they're looking for whatever they can get.”

"Shit." Simon spoke with feeling. "That sounds all too plausible."

There was silence as they digested the idea.

Oniba suddenly straightened. “We'll have to think about the implications of this later. Right now we need to move.”

“One more thing.” Simon moved back in front of Iver. “What happened just before the Dynastra was hit? Did Lancaster say something to you? Did he notice the incoming?”

“I was already out of the Dynastra before they approached.” Iver didn't see a reason to keep quiet about that part of it. He was learning a lot from their back and forth. No need to interrupt the flow. “I'd already shot him with his SAL and left him inside. I stepped out the runner and saw that imbecile Linnel trying to shoot Hana with a laz. I dropped him with a dart and was running to Hana when the Dynastra was hit.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Linnel shot at her with a laz?” Simon asked carefully.

“Yes. He's lucky it didn't hit either him or her. I shot him in the back before he could get off another blast.”

“I'll get the laz off him.” Oniba and Simon exchanged a look.

“It looks like your usefulness is over.” Simon glanced down at him. “Time to kill you and dump--”

The high-pitched whine of a dru-dru approaching had him biting off his words.

The dru-dru was an agile, two-wheeled vehicle used by everyone in Touka, but Iver saw all their minds went to the possibility this was a visit from the Protection Unit, who definitely used them.

Vannie lunged for the lights, and plunged the warehouse into darkness.

It was still daytime, but there were very few windows in the warehouse and they were high up.

Iver had been gearing up to fight, to make killing him as difficult as possible, so he was up on his feet and running for cover before anyone's eyesight adjusted to the almost complete darkness.

Half-blind himself, he