But perhaps she wanted the device as well. And ifso, she might know more about it than he did. Doubtful, but worth investigatingnonetheless. It was better than sitting here surrounded by these degenerates,at any rate.
"Have my associates meet me in the alley," he told theblack-eyed floor manager.
"Yes, sir." The SYN nodded. Then a frown passed acrossits smooth brow. "More trouble?"
Lennox forced half a smile. "Nothing I can't take careof."
He turned down a long hallway that led to the side exit. The noiseof the blood metal receded by decibels but remained a belligerent presence inthe air until he stepped out into the alley. The door swung shut behind him.Then it was quiet. Cold and dark. Sparse light from a single streetlampfiltered down through the fog. He glanced up the alley toward the street, thenback at the shadows and the dumpster at the other end. No one was there.
He clenched his jaw. He felt like a fool, and that infuriated him.Who was this woman? How dare she play games with him?
He reached into his trench coat and drew his revolver, a vintagesnub-nosed piece. He would wait a little while longer. Just so he could shoother, if she eventually decided to show up.
Nothing stirred the quiet.
Until footsteps echoed from the sidewalk at the end of the alley.They headed his way, each heel striking with purpose, but not hurried. Theyknew where they were going, and they were in no rush to get there.
Lennox tucked the revolver into his coat pocket as he turned toface the approaching figure, dark in the frosty light.
"Decided to waste my time?" her voice penetrated thestagnant air.
"Decided to return the favor."
He focused on her shapely figure, flattered by the form-fittingdress she wore. Black with lace, like something women used to wear to funeralslong ago. Only different. There was a hood attached to the shoulders, and shewore it with a veil. She came within three meters of him and stopped, herfacial features barely distinguishable.
"Are you implying that your time is valuable, Mr.Lennox?"
He flashed a winning smile—one that went with his tuxedo. Maybe itdidn't belong here. "I'm willing to take a few moments to getacquainted."
"That's not why I'm here." She paused. "Do you knowwhere he is or don't you?"
He shrugged. "Perhaps." He stepped toward her."What do you know about this...BackTracker?"
"Don't come any closer."
It sounded like a warning. One he didn't heed.
"How about you join me inside, and we'll compare notes. Whatdo you say?"
She clenched a small handbag to her midsection and retreated astep. "You don't know anything."
"Maybe."
"I said don't come any closer."
"Or what?"He chuckled, a sound designed to clarify his controlof the situation. Already, the massive figures of two mandroids had filled theend of the alley. She wouldn't be going anywhere.
She glanced back. "You brought company, I see."
He raised an eyebrow. "Don't remember it being against ourarrangement."
She faced him as he approached. Her eyes were large and darkbehind the veil, open and honest by nature, but containing a hidden knowledge.There was no fear in them.
"I suppose you're right," she said.
White flashed from the sky, as if a sheet had been dropped from anupstairs window. A heel's solid impact drove Lennox to the cold, fog-slickedbricks, and he fell hard. His revolver skittered out of his grasp and into theshadows, out of sight. He landed on his back and blinked, cursing, staring upthe blade now held at his throat. Behind the hilt stood a bald man in a robe aswhite as his skin. A monk by the looks of him, with eyes dark andindecipherable.
"You must have a death wish," Lennox growled.
As he spoke, the two mandroids charged toward him, their heavy feetpounding down the alley, their large hands extended to grip and tear limbs fromtorsos. They did their job well, these associates of his, regardless of thereality.
"Excuse me." The white man flipped backwards, launchinghimself into the air and off the brick wall of The Pit with bare feet, lungingblade-first at the approaching mandroids.
Lennox scrambled to his hands and knees, diving into the shadowsafter his gun, but he could not resist the urge to look back over his shoulderand see this blade-wielding albino ripped apart. The spotless robe he worewould not be so clean much longer. He was a fool to think he could go toe totoe with these automatons. Armed with just a steel blade? They would snap hisweapon in two, then do the same to his spine.
But then something happened that made Lennox forget about his gun.
The albino sailed through the air, over the womanwho did not cringe or cower but stood at ease, half-turning to watch as hedescended upon the first mandroid. He severed its head from its shoulders witha clean swipe of the blade, and sparks shot upinto the night from the base of its neck. It halted abruptly and shook inspasms, incapacitated. The decapitated head rolled off, bouncing into theshadows.
The second mandroid was served the same blade, straight into thechest, through the armored plating beneath its giant, double-breasted suit. Thealbino gripped the hilt and forced it deeper, expecting thata sword through the central processors wouldfinish off the machine.
It didn't. The mandroid proceeded as if nothing had happened. Itreached for the white man with large fingers curled, prepared to crush hisskull to bloody powder.
Idiot. Lennox retrieved his gun and got to hisfeet, brushed himself off. Looked up.
Saw the albino whip the blade out from the mandroid's chest andsever its head in a single sweep. The head bounced down the alley toward thedumpster. The body shook and sparked with fireworks, unable to move anotherstep.
Lennox brought up the gun and leveled it on the albino.
"Not bad. If you want to work for me, consider this yourinterview." He chuckled. "Andyou've got the job."
The man in white turned to face him. His eyes were as serious asever. They came to rest on the gun barrel aimed at him as he lowered his weaponto the side.
"Put down the gun, and we'll leave," the woman said.
Lennox smiled ironically and
