"You will give it to me, or I will cut it from you," hesaid, backlit by the shuddering ceiling lights. Discharging pulse rounds in aconfined space had a way of monkeying with the power. The backup generatorswere struggling to keep everything running smoothly.
Muldoon struggled to catch his breath. "You're gonna hack meup anyway. Admit it."
The smile returned. "But it need not be painful."
That's a relief.
Muldoon dropped his head, glancing back to check on the currentlocation of his gun. Two meters behind him. He unfastened the plastic watch.
"It's a little outdated."
"Power is never out of date, Mr. Muldoon." The monklowered his blade. "Place it here. Do not try anything, or yourdeath will be full of much pain."
I think I'm starting to like this guy.
He tossed the watch up into the monk's face and rolled overbackward. His fingers closed on the grip of his revolver just as the samurai's swordlaunched up into the air and came down, straight for him. Muldoon rolled asideand pulled the trigger once. The pulse round hit the white robe in the chestfull-force, half a meter from the muzzle. The high voltage rendered the monkinstantly incapacitated, and he fell hard, twitching spastically at the foot ofthe lockers. Then he lay still under the flickering lights with a large patchburned black on the front of his robe.
Muldoon nudged him to make sure he was down for the count. Then hekicked the sword aside and stooped to retrieve the wristwatch. He glanced backat the samurai before he turned to leave.
"You can get these pretty cheap on the Link." He slippedthe watch on and shrugged. "If you've really got to have one."
Support staff were already filtering into the plaza as hedescended the steps to the main floor. They frowned at each other curiously asthe lights worked hard to stay on. A brownout?
He tugged down the brim of his hat and forged ahead, passingthrough the sliding glass doors and out onto the expanse of concrete stepsbeyond. He glanced at the plastic face of the wristwatch as he reached behindhis ear to Link up and call for his car.
The item? Couldn't be. Not this piece of junk. Yet thatwhite samurai had been willing to dice him up for it. Made absolutely no sense.Had the Peddler received a better offer from someone else and left the plastictimepiece as a way of telling Muldoon he was out of his league?
His hand drifted away from his ear. He hadn't Linked up. He hadn'tneeded to. There sat his car, already idling at the curb as if it had beenwaiting for him the whole time. The driver's side door glided upward as heapproached.
He frowned. "I told you to park—"
He stopped, staring at who sat in the passenger seat.
"Hello, Mr. Muldoon," said Madame Mystery.
How does everybody know my name? He slipped his hand insidehis coat.
"Won't you get in?" The hat and veil were no longer inplace. Instead, the woman wore a gorgeous smile, one with soft, full lips andimmaculate teeth. But her eyes didn't match the mood of her expression. Theyheld a sadness that kept her distant, despite her close proximity as he droppedinto the driver's seat.
"You going to tell me who you are?" He faced her with asmuch bravado as he could muster. He'd already entertained enough surprisesfor one night. What he needed right now was sleep—that little nap on the benchhad been just an appetizer, leaving him hungrier than ever.
Her smile faded as her gaze rested on his watch."You didn't take my advice."
His door shut and locked itself.
"Destination?" droned the dashboard computer.
"Just sit tight," he snapped at it. He shook his head atthe woman. "I don't know what you want from me—"
"Do you think it's wise for us to sit here?"
Where did she expect him to go—and take her with him? An image ofthe two security officers came back to his mind, and he knew this was the lastplace he should be. With the staff already filtering up the steps into thestation, it wouldn't be long before one of them stumbled upon the carnageupstairs.
"Drive," he told the computer.
"Destination?" it droned.
"Surprise me!" He threw up his hands.
A short pause. "Invalid destination."
"Manual override," he muttered, punching the ignitionpad with his thumbprint and taking hold of the steering grips. The car veeredfrom the curb and accelerated to join the groggy morning traffic. "Buckleup." He tugged on his safety harness.
She did the same. The white gloves were gone, and her nakedfingers fastened the straps just below her bust. She caught him glancing herway.
"You should probably keep your eyes on the road, Mr.Muldoon."
Cursing under his breath, he whipped the grips to the left andveered around a slower-moving vehicle to keep from plowing full-speed into itsbackside.
"And you should slow down," she suggested. "Manualdriving requires—"
"I know how to drive!" Why am I shouting?
"Do you wish to resume automatic drive?" droned thecomputer.
"No!" Still shouting. He exhaled. I've got to calmdown here. He glanced at her before returning his attention to the road. "Yougot a name, lady?"
She watched him, studying him. "Relevance?"
He almost threw up his hands in exasperation, but decided againstit. Truth be told, it had been a while since he'd driven manually, and he'dnearly forgotten how hands-on it was.
"Fair exchange of knowledge. You somehow know who I am, but Ican't say the same about you."
"You will,"she said. "When the time comes."
So cryptic. He glanced at her again, but she didn'treturn his gaze. She stared at the stupid watch on his wrist.
"What do you know about this thing? Why would anybody bewilling to kill for it?"
"You really have no idea what it is," she said.
It can't be. Not this. "I know what I came for. And this isn'tit, believe me."
"Appearances can be deceiving, Mr. Muldoon."
"Riddle-speak. Is that your language of choice?"
A smile played on her lips. "You're not as direct as youimagine yourself to be."
"How so?"
She looked up at his face, at the corners of his eyes and mouth.They seemed to hold some rare fascination
