Sevro and I stalk back into the ready room where the Howlers are packed and prepared to depart the station. Rollo and a dozen of his people watch us tensely from their side of the room. They know they’re about to be abandoned. Quicksilver follows behind me, restraints left behind in his cell. He’s agreed to our plan, with a few adjustments. “Well, look at this….” Victra says, seeing our bruises and bloody knuckles. “You two finally talked.” She looks to Ragnar. “See?”
“Shit’s sorted,” Sevro says.
“And the rich man?” Ragnar asks curiously. “He wears no manacles.”
“That’s because he’s a Son of Ares, Rags,” Sevro says. “Didn’t you know?”
“Quicksilver’s a Son?” Victra explodes into laughter. “And I’m secretly a Helldiver.” She looks back and forth at our faces. “Wait…you’re serious. Do you have proof?”
“I’m sorry to hear of your mother, Victra,” Quicksilver says hoarsely. “But it is a pleasure to see you walking, truly. I’ve been with the Sons for over twenty years. I have hundreds of hours of conversations with Fitchner to prove it.”
“He’s a Son,” Sevro says. “Can we move on?”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Victra shakes her head. “Mother was right about you. Always said you had secrets. I thought it was something sexual. That you liked horses or something.” Sevro shifts uncomfortably.
“So you find us a way off this rock, rich man?” Holiday asks Quicksilver.
“Not quite,” he says. “Darrow…”
“We’re not leaving,” I announce. Rollo and his men stir in the corner. The Howlers exchange confused looks.
“Maybe you wanna tell us what’s going on?” Screwface asks gruffly. “Let’s start with who’s in charge. Is it you?”
“Howler One,” Sevro says, punching my shoulder.
“Howler Two,” I say, patting his in turn.
“Prime?” Sevro asks. The Howlers nod in concert.
“First order of business, policy change,” I say. “Who has pliers?” I look around until Holiday pulls hers from her bomb kit and tosses them to me. I open my mouth and stick the pliers to the back right molar where the achlys-9 suicide tooth was implanted. With a grunt I tear it out and set the tooth on the table. “I’ve been captured before. I will not be captured again. So this is worthless to me. I don’t plan on dying, but if I do, I die with my friends. Not in a cell. Not on a podium. With you.” I hand the pliers to Sevro. He jerks out his own back tooth. Spitting the blood on the table.
“I die with my friends.”
Ragnar does not wait for the pliers. He pulls out his back tooth with his bare fingers, eyes wide with delight as he sets the huge bloody thing on the table. “I die with my friends.” One by one, they pass around the pliers, pulling out their teeth and tossing them down. Quicksilver watches all the while, staring at us like we’re a pack of mad hooligans, no doubt wondering about what he’s gotten himself into. But I need my men to lose this heavy mantle they wear. With that poison in their skulls, they felt the death sentences had already been read, and they were just waiting for the hangman to come knocking. Slag that. Death’ll have to earn its bounty. I want them to believe in this. In each other. In the idea that we might actually win and live.
For the first time, I do.
—
After I’ve detailed my instructions to my men and they depart to execute the orders, I return with Sevro to the Sons of Ares control room and ask for them to prepare a direct link. “To the Citadel in Agea, please.” The Sons of Ares turn to look at me to see if they’ve misheard. “On the double, friends. We don’t have all day.”
I stand in front of the holo camera with Sevro. “Think they already know we’re here?”
“Probably not quite yet,” I reply.
“Think he’s going to piss himself?”
“Let’s hope. Remember, nothing about Mustang and Cassius being here. We’re keeping that one in the pocket.”
The direct holoLink goes through and the face of a wan young Copper administrator looks sleepily back at us. “Citadel General Com,” she drones, “how may I direct your…” She blinks suddenly at our images on the display. Wipes sleep from her eyes. And loses all faculty of speech.
“I would like to speak with the ArchGovernor,” I say.
“And…may I say who is…calling?”
“It’s the bloodydamn Reaper of Mars,” Sevro barks.
“One moment, please.”
The Copper’s face is replaced by the pyramid of the Society. Terribly predictable Vivaldi plays as we wait. Sevro taps his fingers on his leg and murmurs his little tune under his breath. “If your heart beats like a drum, and your legs a little wet, it’s because the Reaper’s come to collect a little debt.”
Several minutes later, the Jackal’s pale face appears before us. He wears a jacket with a high white collar, and his hair is parted on the side. He does not leer at us. If anything, he looks amused as he continues to eat his breakfast. “The Reaper and Ares,” he says in a low drawl, mocking his own courtesy. He wipes his mouth on a napkin. “You departed so quickly last time I didn’t have time to say farewell. I must say, you’re looking positively radiant, Darrow. Is Victra with you?”
“Adrius,” I say flatly. “As you’re no doubt aware, there has been an explosion at Sun Industries, and your silent partner, Quicksilver, has gone missing. I know it’s a mess of jurisdiction, and the evidence won’t be sorted for hours, maybe days. So I wanted to call and clarify the situation. We, the Sons of Ares, have kidnapped Quicksilver.”
He sets his spoon down to sip from his white coffee cup.
“I see. To what end?”
“We will be holding him for ransom until you release all political prisoners illegally detained in your jails and all lowColors concentrated in internment camps. Additionally, you are to take responsibility for the murder of your father. Publicly.”
“Is that all?” the Jackal asks, not displaying a flicker of emotion, though I know he’s wondering how we discovered Quicksilver was his ally.
“You also have to personally kiss my pimply ass,” Sevro says.
“Lovely.” The Jackal looks off the screen to someone. “My agents tell me a flight moratorium was instituted ten minutes after the attack on Sun Industries and the vessel which fled the scene disappeared into the Hollows. Am I to assume then that you’re still on Phobos?”
I pause as if caught off guard. “If you do not comply, Quicksilver’s life is forfeit.”
“Lamentably, I do not negotiate with terrorists. Especially ones who may be recording my conversation to broadcast it for political gain.” The Jackal sips his coffee again. “I listened to your proposal, now listen to mine. Run. Now. While you can. But know, wherever you go, wherever you hide, you cannot protect your friends. I’m going to kill them all and put you back in the darkness with their severed heads for company. There is no way out, Darrow. This I promise you.”
He kills the signal.
“Think he’ll send the Boneriders before the legions?” Sevro asks.
“Let’s hope. Time to get moving.”
—