Nemesis Games

 

Amos gestured at the room, the guards, the renovated building around them. “When I left, you were running for your life. So, at least one thing’s different.”

 

 

 

“You guys can go,” Erich said to Tatu and his partner. They slipped out quietly and shut the door behind them. That seemed like a good sign. Either it meant that Erich was sure Amos wasn’t there to kill him, or Erich had a way of protecting himself that didn’t require other people. It wouldn’t be a gun under the desk. That was too direct for Erich. Amos started casually scanning for wires or suspicious lumps on his chair or the floor beneath it.

 

 

 

Erich poured two more shots of tequila then said, “I learned something important from you, when you left.”

 

 

 

“Do tell.”

 

 

 

“I’ll never be the toughest guy in any room, unless I’m by myself,” Erich said, waving his small arm again. “But I’m usually the smartest. Executing a plan can be subcontracted out. Making the plan in the first place, not as much.”

 

 

 

“True enough,” Amos agreed. “It’s why I’ll never be the captain of a ship.”

 

 

 

Erich reacted to that. He didn’t change his expression or flinch, but Amos could see the words getting taken in and filed as important.

 

 

 

“But always useful, you,” Erich said. “You were always useful. You on a crew now?”

 

 

 

“You haven’t seen me in the news?”

 

 

 

“I have. You look different. Shaved your head, got your nose broke a few more times. But I’ll never forget a name.”

 

 

 

“Well, not this one anyway,” Amos said, and then tossed his shot back in a toast to Erich. “Gracias for that, by the way.”

 

 

 

“So, you still with that crew?” Erich said.

 

 

 

“I am. Why?”

 

 

 

“Because you’re sitting in my office right now drinking my tequila. Still playing that out in my head. Useful guy like you can always get work. If that’s what you want, I’ve got it. But if you’re not here looking for work, what are you looking for?”

 

 

 

Amos grabbed the bottle and poured himself another drink. Erich tried very hard not to look nervous. He’d had a lot of practice, because he almost pulled it off. Time can change a lot. Erich had gone from twitchy little hacker with a price on his head to the boss of a respectable chunk of Baltimore’s harbor-front property. But some things don’t change. Some tells never go away. While Erich sat very still and looked him in the eye without blinking, the tiny hand on his deformed left arm opened and closed like a baby grabbing at a toy just out of reach.

 

 

 

“Went to Lydia’s house,” Amos said, sipping slowly at the tequila.

 

 

 

“Not Lydia’s house anymore. She’s dead,” Erich said. “That what this is about? I treated her like you would have after you left.”

 

 

 

“Yeah?” Amos asked, eyebrows going up.

 

 

 

“Well,” Erich admitted with an embarrassed look to the side. “Not exactly like you would have.”

 

 

 

“Thank you for that too,” Amos said.

 

 

 

“You didn’t kill me once when you had every reason to, and after that, you couldn’t have stayed,” Erich said, leaning forward. His left hand had stopped clenching. “Walking away from her was part of the favor you did for me. I never forgot that. And she helped me, at first. Helped me build what I have now. Taught me to use brains to beat brawn. She never lacked for a thing it was in my power to give.”

 

 

 

“And I appreciate that,” Amos repeated. Erich’s eyes narrowed and his right hand came up from under the desk with a short-barreled automatic in it. Amos found himself surprised and a little proud of his friend. Erich rested his hand on the desk, the gun pointed away from Amos, more a warning than a threat.

 

 

 

“If you’ve got some beef you came here to settle,” Erich said, “you won’t be the first guy to leave this office in a bag.”

 

 

 

Amos raised his hands a little in mock surrender. “Not even armed, chief. I came here to talk.”

 

 

 

“So talk.”

 

 

 

“What you did for Lydia was real nice,” Amos said, putting his hands back down slowly but keeping his eye on the gun. “But you’re wrong. She’s not all dead. Some of her’s left.”

 

 

 

Erich cocked his head to the side, frowning. “Gonna need to walk me through that one.”

 

 

 

“There’s an old man loved her and lived with her and kissed her goodnight before she died. A house with a little rose garden they worked together. Maybe some dogs. I saw a picture, but not sure if they’re still around.”

 

 

 

“I still don’t get it,” Erich said.

 

 

 

Amos rubbed his thumb against his knuckle, trying to find the words. It wasn’t a thought he’d said out loud before, and if he screwed it up and Erich misunderstood, there was a chance they’d wind up trying to kill each other. So it was worth thinking about some.

 

 

 

“It’s like this. The old man keeps the house until he dies. He’s the only thing she left behind. He’s the last bit of her. He keeps the house.”

 

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