discs used by the Belltower grunts.
Hardesty shifted in the seat and Saxon's attention was drawn away. The other man had a Diamondback revolver resting across his folded arms.
The muzzle was aimed right at Saxon's chest. 'You have no idea how much I want to pull this trigger,' said Hardesty, ignoring his comments.
'Put a round into you, blow your lungs across the goddamn plaza…' He grinned coldly. 'You almost cost us this op. I had an instinct about you from day one, limey. I should have fragged you in Queensland along with the rest of your squad.'
A calm kind of anger settled on Saxon. 'Then do it, if you got the balls. Either that or be Namir's errand boy, like he told you to. I don't have all day.'
For a long second, Saxon thought Hardesty might actually shoot, as his expression tightened into a rictus; but then he sniffed and let the gun drop. 'You're right. You don't. So listen up, 'cos I'm not going to repeat myself.' He reached for a small bag and threw it at Saxon. 'There's an armor jacket in there for you. Follow the avenue around toward the next gate. A public-works crew are laying some new blacktop in the near lane. You got cover there to hop the wall, get inside. The Swiss cops got two-man teams on patrol, so don't get caught before you get to the target.'
'You expect me to walk right up to Taggart and break his neck?'
Hardesty sniggered and opened the revolver's chamber, shaking the gun so all six bullets fell out. Then he handed the empty weapon to Saxon, who quickly stuffed it into the bag before anyone spotted him. 'Here,' he said, holding up a single round between his thumb and forefinger.
'You're supposed to be good. So this should be more than enough.'
He tossed the bullet and Saxon caught it out of the air. 'What about Kelso? I don't even know if she's still alive.'
'That's right, slick, you don't' snarled the other man. 'Now, go be a good dog and do as you're told, and maybe the bitch lives.' He leaned forward, lowering his voice, showing teeth. 'Personally? I'm hoping you try something. I want you to refuse, Saxon. I want the excuse to put you out of my misery.' Hardesty spat on the ground. 'You talk like you're a soldier, but you're nothing, limey. I know your kind, bleeding-heart warrior, all about the good and the noble, but you got no idea how the real world works. You got no steel in you.'
Saxon met his gaze, looking through the dark lenses to the dead eyes beneath. He saw nothing there, nothing but a cold machine soul driven by anger. 'You're right,' he admitted. 'Because if being strong means turning into a heartless fucker like you, I'll stick to being human.'
Hardesty laughed. 'Good luck with that,' he retorted as the SUV surged away in a growl of acceleration.
Location Unknown
Anna clawed her way back to a waking state as if she were buried in wet sand, digging herself out inch by inch. She felt the chemical drag of sedatives in her bloodstream; her last conscious memory was of Federova bundling her into the back of the black helo before something sharp and metallic nipped at the flesh of her neck. After that had come a turbulent dream filled with scattershot images of burning cities, crazed cyborgs, chaos, and conspiracy, rising up from the recall of the vision Janus had put in her head.
She was in a small room with metal walls, the only decoration a perfunctory cot bolted to the floor, a lamp set in the ceiling, and a steel toilet in the far corner. Anna rolled to a seated position and the room swayed around her. The floor seemed unsteady, and her stomach turned over.
The fog of drug haze made it difficult to move; her legs were like lead.
She wasn't secured by handcuffs or any kind of tether; clearly the Tyrants didn't consider her enough of a threat, which was insulting in its own way.
Beyond the door to the cell she heard movement, and held her breath, straining to listen.
'… with Hardesty,' said Namir's voice, as he came closer. 'Once it is done, we'll need to recover and proceed to the extraction point.'
'Got it,' said another man, this one gruff and hard-edged. 'What about the li'l punk?'
'We've got what we need from him.'
'This one, too?' Anna knew they had to be talking about her.
'We will see,' said Namir. 'If not, the Hyron Project can always use new materials.' She heard him come closer. 'Open it.'
Anna scrambled back into the far corner of the cell as the door opened to admit the mercenary. She caught a glimpse of a thickset bull of a man hovering behind him, his face scarred by old burns down one side. He gave her a callous wink and walked away.
Namir stepped in and closed the door. 'Anna Kelso.'
'Jaron Namir,' she replied. 'Yeah, I know who you are.'
That got her a moment of irritation, but it vanished just as quickly. 'Ben should learn when to keep his mouth shut. It gets him into trouble.'
'Are you here to kill me?' she asked.
He shook his head. 'Not yet. For the moment, you're required intact. For purposes of leverage.'
She snorted. 'Against Saxon? I hardly know him. You think he's going to risk his life for a complete stranger?'
Namir nodded. 'Of course he will. If you did know him, you'd know he will risk his life for you.' He folded his arms over his chest. 'It's a character flaw. Despite everything that has happened to him, every loss and disappointment, under it all Ben Saxon wants to be the good man.
The hero.' Namir smiled coldly. 'Others would have had that beaten out of them by now. But not him.'
'Lucky for me,' she offered, with more defiance in her tone than she felt.
'Not really.' Namir stood opposite her. 'I'm intrigued by you, Anna. Your tenacity. It's quite impressive for someone with such personal failings to overcome.' He cocked his head. 'When was the last time you had a dose? It must be difficult going cold all over again.'
'Bite me,' she snarled.
He smiled thinly. 'I know this is difficult for you to understand, but you have to realize that you are fulfilling a purpose here. We all are. For a greater good.'
'A greater good?' She spat the words back at him. 'Your Illuminati are a cancer! You kill and threaten and ruin lives all because some faceless cabal of old men want to play God with the world? What gives you the right?'
'There is no God,' Namir told her. 'That's why these things need to be done. That's why the group exists.' He sighed. 'The Illuminati were created for that very reason. The future of humanity is too delicate to be left to the whims of passing kings and despots. It's too complex to be decided by the greater mass of mankind. It is the burden of the elite to be fit to rule, to take the reins of the world, and to guide it toward a stable unity.'
'They teach you that little speech?' she replied. 'The cowards who ordered the deaths of my friend and countless others?' She shook her head.
'I've heard the conspiracy theories, but until now I never thought they could be true. But that's how they want it, right? They stay in the dark, pull the strings, and no one knows it. They decide what wars are going to happen, who gets elected… And now they want to control the right to evolve!'
Namir studied his cybernetic hand. 'Is that so wrong? Think about it, Anna. Think of how the free spread of augmentations has changed the face of our species, the divide it has created between 'cog' and 'natch,' the metal and the meat. Think of how it has changed you. Anyone can make themselves into a killing machine with the right hardware and enough money. Wouldn't things be better if there were controls, boundaries, regulations?' He leaned closer. 'You know that rules exist for the good of society.' Namir opened his hands. 'All we're doing is putting them into place.'
For a moment, his words cut deeply; but then she pushed them away. 'And it doesn't matter how many freedoms you have to kill to get there, does it? Because you believe you're right.'
He frowned at her tone. 'Your young friend Patrick came around, once he had an understanding. I hoped you might, too, I really did. Saxon… he won't change… I thought you were smarter than him.'
'I'm glad to disappoint you,' she spat.
Namir watched her for a moment, before he spoke again.
