Molehunt by Paul Collins Page A

tourist trap to disguise what it really was: an extremely dangerous place where you could easily get killed.
    Fake candles in bottles bolted to the tables dimly lighted the interior. The furniture and the floor were made of deep red mahogany analogue, which was expensive on some planets, but cheap here. Maximus wondered how old the place was as he took a seat near the back. A century, perhaps? Three stabbings or shootings per night for a hundred years was well over a hundred thousand litres of blood spilled.
    Kilroy stepped out of the shadows and joined him.
    The stooge took a seat opposite then leaned forward into the light. Against his instincts, Maximus managed not to mock-wince. Kilroy’s nose was broken and there was a great purple gash on his left cheek.
    â€˜Tell me everything went as planned,’ said Maximus, activating a hush field around their booth.
    â€˜Everything went as planned,’ came Kilroy’s dead voice, sounding like a corpse being forced to talk by electrostimulus.
    Maximus allowed himself to relax slightly. Obviously there had been problems, but the result was all that mattered.
    â€˜Then she’s dead?’
    Kilroy pointed to his nose. ‘You think I got this from a dead person?’
    â€˜So not as planned then.’
    â€˜I was joking.’
    Those words in that muffled voice sent a shiver down Maximus’s spine.
Kilroy made a joke
. The anomaly irritated him. ‘I didn’t think you told jokes.’
    â€˜Told one.’
    â€˜What happened?’
    Kilroy shrugged. ‘She got lucky. I missed a clean shot at her when she bumped into somebody. Then I tried again in her apartment. She’s strong and fast.’
    Maximus nodded, sympathetic only because Kilroy’s misfortune was his as well. ‘Normansk born, bred, and genetically enhanced.’
    â€˜She’ll be hard to kill.’
    Maximus blinked. He had never heard Kilroy say that about anybody. ‘How hard?’
    â€˜Hard.’
    â€˜Nobody’s that hard to export. Nobody.’
    â€˜Please yourself.’
    â€˜So you’re saying you can’t fulfil the contract? Scared?’
    Kilroy made to get up.
    Maximus waved him back down. As soon as the word was out of his mouth he knew he’d screwed up. If there was one thing Kilroy wasn’t, it was scared. Of anybody. Not even Maximus. He did not even seem to care. Perhaps the only thing that would make Kilroy happy was to be dead. Maximus had a feeling that he might help with that one day.
    He sat back, his mind scanning, sifting, and organising the facts. One thing was clear: Anneke now knew that he knew. Knew who she was and about the message she had sent. She would be plotting, and he had to stay ahead of her.
    This was the ultimate chess game. Longshadow vs Black … yet she had made the first move, the opening gambit of the priority message. That meant she was white.
    Right about now, he fancied, Anneke was regretting sending that message. Right about now she was thinking,
What an idiot, I went and alerted the mole to the fact that I am on to him
.
    He still wasn’t happy. She knew about him, so she would be coming after him, but Maximus had other weapons. Not just the discrediting evidence that Kilroy had hopefully planted, but also something that almost nobody but the highest of the high at RIM knew. Something that Maximus had discovered by accident, and intended to use with exquisite care.
    He sat forward again. ‘You want to take another crack at her?’ he asked Kilroy.
    The assassin stared straight back at him. It was his way of saying,
What do
you
think
?
    â€˜Did you get the wafer?’
    Kilroy held out a device the size of a small coin. ‘Nothin’ on it. Field on Arcadia fried it.’
    â€˜You’re sure?’
    â€˜Said so, didn’t I?’
    â€˜Yes, but you also said everything went according to plan.’
    â€˜Joke.’
    â€˜I didn’t laugh.’
    Kilroy