Breathe, she told herself.
“Problem.” jCharles was back, looking grim. He moved close to Three, lowered his voice. Eyes roving the surroundings. “There are way more people inside than there should be,” he said. “The fact they let me come back out makes me think they’ve got ’em posted out here, too.”
“Yeah. I count six ground level, two up high. Probably one across the street, second floor window, overlooking the intersection.”
jCharles flicked his eyes that way.
“Shutters are all pulled up there.”
“Perfect vantage to the front and side entrances. They should have someone there.”
“So what do you wanna do?”
As far as Three was concerned, nothing had changed. Not really. Dealing with the Bonefolder was always a trap, in one way or another.
“You walk. I’ll go in.”
“It’s like this, Three. Bonefolder’s in there. Looking for you. So either we’re both going in, or we’re both shooting out.”
“Well. Then I guess we’re goin’ in.”
jCharles stepped back and nodded, glancing up and down the street.
“Bartender’s faster than he looks. The big guy is the last one to worry about. If it goes bad, start right, I’ll take left. Meet you in the middle.”
Three nodded, unfastened his coat, and forced himself to relax.
The closer she got to the hangar, the more apparent it became as to why that was the meeting point of choice. Cass had walked the perimeter twice, and noticed only two doors, each on opposite sides of the structure. The main gates had been pulled to and welded shut long ago, and there were no windows to be seen. It’d be awfully hard to surprise anybody on the inside and still be able to get away without being tracked by someone on the outside. The place was almost tailor-made for deals between untrustworthy business partners.
Cass checked the time. 13:27 GST. Soon. But enough time for one more lap. She’d run her first two perimeter checks clockwise, and started that way again, but something pricked in her gut and caused her to turn back. As she did so, she noticed a man in a grubby brown coat limping her way. When she turned, he hitched his step. The briefest eye contact. A hesitation. Slight, but as if she had startled him, despite being separated by more than thirty feet. He continued on his shuffling way, turned a corner and disappeared down a row of iso-units. By the time she’d reached the line of units he’d taken, he was nowhere in sight.
Paranoia, maybe. But something about the man stuck with her that she didn’t like. Some unplaced familiarity. Or maybe he was just the kind of person she’d expect to find lurking Downtown. Three’s words flashed back to her.
You see anything you don’t like, you walk away.
It’d seemed like good advice at the time, but now it sounded so vague as to be useless. There was a lot down here she didn’t particularly care for. And the deal. The deal was big enough for her to get well, be well, and stay well for good long while. No way was she going to walk away from that chance. She shoved the man out of her mind and finished her final walk around the perimeter.
“Either of you gentlemen carrying any weapons?” the neckless bodyguard asked.
“No,” Three answered, despite the fact that his coat was open and his vicious pistol was widely on display.
The bodyguard smiled, a gleaming white split amidst the pale pink flesh of his face and head. Three hoped this was the “big one” Twitch had mentioned. The Big One looked like a mountain of flesh, poured in a pile and shaped into some vaguely human form by someone whose only experience with anatomy had been muscular. He was dressed in a three-piece suit that looked like it was ready to tear apart if he so much as turned his head. Though it was cleverly tailored and woven, Three could tell from the sheen of the fabric that it was fibrasteel, likely impervious to any stabbing or slashing that might occur.
“And that piece is, I suppose, decorative only?”
“Keeps the kids away is all.”
“The Bonefolder understands the nature of the world in which we live, friend. We do not wish to deprive you of your protection. We mean only to inventory. I would, however, advise you to keep your hands away from your… ornament. This way, please.”
The Big One led them both from the entryway into a large open room, set with a number of tables. There was a bar off to the left, where a man stood wiping down a counter with a rag. The bartender looked to be in his early 60s, and he tipped his head in greeting. Even across the room, the bartender vibrated with menace. An open staircase in the back led up to a second floor, where an open balcony surrounded and overlooked the first floor. Evenly spaced doors off the balcony hinted at some kind of upstairs living quarters.
A knot of men sat or stood around small tables in the center of the room. And there at the large central table, all alone, sat the Bonefolder.
“Gentlemen,” said the Big One. “Be seated.”
Three and jCharles sat themselves across the table from Bonefolder.
“May I have a beverage prepared for you?”
“Bittertonic might be nice,” jCharles answered. “How about you Numbers, something to take the edge off? Good chance to taste something from the top of the shelf.”
Three shook his head, kept his eyes on Bonefolder. He could tell from Twitch’s eager casualness that he was wound tight. Quick count put them down four to one, not counting the Bonefolder. Not good odds even against poorly-trained gun hands.
“Very well,” said the Big One. He motioned to the bartender, who began preparing a drink for jCharles.
Three took in as much about the Bonefolder as he could. High cheekbones, light brown hair that flowed in a steep cascade to just below her shoulders. Pouty lips drawn down permanently at the corners of her mouth. Gave her a look of constant, polite disdain. As he regarded her, she smiled, drawing her lips back fiercely in an almost upside down kind of way, that, rather than a frown, managed to be something of a smile while still communicating a sort of strained patience. She’d been a looker once. Maybe still was, to some of particular tastes. She seemed severe in every way.
The fact that a woman had grown into such a commanding presence here in Greenstone told him all he needed to know about her will. And the deference the men around her showed her hinted at how she exerted that will. Her men exhibited the kind of fear and respect one might expect to see shown to a queen. Or an unforgiving goddess.
“This is the one they call ‘Three’?” she said, with mild disdain, looking towards the Big One and waving her hand at Three dismissively.
“I am,” Three answered for himself. The Bonefolder looked to him with mild disappointment.
“We see. Not much of a proper name, is it? It sounds simply ridiculous to us, to go about having others refer to you by number rather than name.”
If she had intended to garner a response, she would be disappointed. Three sat without reply. The Big One left the table. The corners of the Bonefolder’s mouth pulled downward.
“Well, we won’t abide referring to you in such a manner, so here you will be identified as Mr Walker. Such seems suitable, from what we know of you.”
“You can call me whatever you like, ma’am.”
“How unexpected. It has manners.” The Bonefolder paused long enough to sip from her beverage, a steaming, brownish liquid Three couldn’t identify.
“Mr Walker, we understand you wish to make use of our train.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The Big One returned and placed a bittertonic in front of jCharles, and then moved around to stand behind Bonefolder. jCharles didn’t touch the drink.