Chapter 9
glenn
Quayle was the strangest of the operatives in the entire family, and even I sometimes felt uneasy when he was in the room.
He was the only one who could kill as well as Vera could. But Vera seemed to have desensitized herself long ago to death, to the act of drawing blood.
Quayle did no such thing. Quayle enjoyed it. I suspected it was the only thing he did enjoy.
I was the only one who kept a straight face when the doors swung open and Quayle stepped into the library with us.
He was a long, gaunt man with dark, slick hair that clung to his forehead like he was always sweaty, and he wore the same brown duster coat he always did, walking with his chest out like it was pulling him forward by a hook.
My lieutenant Rand, who had been just a second ago boasting about his operation in the valley, went suddenly rigid, and the staff at the edges of the room also stiffened visibly at the sight.
“Quayle, you’re just in time,” I said. “Rand was just… reluctant on the operation, but I’m sure with two of us here, he’ll see reason.”
Quayle didn’t speak. He usually didn’t. Instead, he just inclined his head, sinking into the tall-backed armchair next to my desk, and Rand swallowed hard.
“Sir, it’s not that I intend to doubt your methods, but…”
“No, go on,” I said, leaning forward and folding my arms on the wood. “You were very eager to tell me your opinions. I do appreciate a confident personality… Lieutenant.”
He adjusted his collar, sitting up taller. “I just… wanted to… better understand the logic of your operation.”
That was more like it. I smiled at him, and I turned to the staff along the sides of the room. “Leave,” I said. “I wish for a private audience.”
They filtered out of the room in short order, a procession of them out the door until it was just me, Rand, and Quayle. Once the door was shut and locked, I levelled a smile at Rand.
“Now you may speak,” I said. He glanced anxiously at Quayle before he turned back to me.
“I just… heard rumors about the South Yard procurement operation,” he said.
“Rumors,” I echoed. “Do tell.”
“One of my people heard whisperings about the Whitecliffs…”
“Yes,” I said. “It would seem they’ve caught onto Elaine’s presence sooner than expected. But it’s no matter. Vera can handle them.”
Rand swallowed, looking down. He was a tall man, with a strong build, and in any other circumstance, he was a dominating figure, terrible to behold. But like this, he looked like a scared little boy. Pitiful. Weak.
“The rumors say, Sir, that you tipped off the Whitecliffs.”
I smiled. “Is that so?”
“Is it true?”
“It would seem your friend has a good read on the situation. Yes. I saw to it that the information would leak.”
He faltered. “But, Sir… why?”
“The South Yard is a difficult acquisition. Robert Gabor made sure it could only change hands with Elaine’s express permission. Thus… we need her firmly in our camp, emotionally as well as physically.” I folded my hands on the desk. “So Vera will save her life. And Elaine will be indebted to her.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Sir…”
“Go on, Rand. It’s just us here. Say what’s on your mind.”
“Surely you’ve gone mad.”
I laughed. “You don’t get to my position as a sane man, Rand.
Nor into yours. But relax. Be at ease. I hear your concerns.
” I leaned forward. “We’ll collaborate. Now that you know, we’ll bring you into the fold on negotiations, and we can ensure your concerns are heard. You’re a trusted man to me, Rand.”
He drew in a long, slow breath, and slowly, finally, he sank back into his chair. “I… yes, Sir. I understand.”
“If your friend heard about it as well, I’m sure they also have concerns. Who was it? The person you heard about it from—we’ll bring them on the panel as well.”
“Christina Roanes, Sir,” he said, and I nodded.
“Excellent.” I sat back in my chair. “Quayle, dispose of him.”
“Sir—” Rand’s eyes shot open wide, and he jumped from his seat, but Quayle was a phantom. He barely moved, one precise gesture, and with the muffled crack through the silencer, Rand’s skull split open, a crescent of crimson, as his lifeless body fell back in his chair.
“Bring me Christina Roanes as well,” I said. “We’ll trace this leak to the bottom.”
Quayle didn’t say a word, just nodded and stood up, heading for the door. I chuckled, flipping open my binder and looking through my documents.
All manual. All paper. I’d seen greater men fall to the vulnerabilities of electronics before. I wouldn’t follow in those footsteps.
Yes… according to my notes, the Whitecliffs’ best operative would be arriving soon to handle Elaine.
She wouldn’t be able to kill her right away, no. But injure her enough to put the fear of death into her?
Almost certainly.
But first, I would need to dispose of Rand’s body.