What Mott liked about the site was the fact that it was fairly contained, the tightly spaced columns would make it impossible for a large number of adversaries to flood the amphitheater at once, and there were open lines of sight back and forth across the bowl-shaped interior. Plus, thanks to the fact that they would have to enter via the single entrance, the biotics could be channeled down the ramp.

  Of course, that was when things would get interesting. The Cerberus operatives might be outnumbered and, with no Level 3 biotics of their own, vulnerable to “throws” and all the rest of it. So in order to level the playing field a bit, Mott planned to have a surprise ready. But would it work? Even with the advantages that the venue offered there were so many variables that even the most carefully conceived plan could easily go awry.

  As Mott laid her plans the mourners formed a semicircle in front of the converter. The pillar of iridescent light shimmered brightly as if eager to consume anything fed into its coruscating maw. Once inside, the object would be transformed into energy, thereby completing the age-old rhythm of creation, destruction, and rebirth.

  There was a platform at the end of the ramp and directly in front of the converter. The coffin had been placed on it. And as the chant grew louder, the salarian in charge of the ceremony touched a button, and one end of the flat surface fell. That sent the beautifully decorated coffin sliding into the column of fire. It vanished in a momentary flash of light. The funeral was over—and as the mourners left Mott did as well.

  Nearly a full cycle had elapsed since the scouting mission had been completed and the attack on the cavern was under way. Except that Hendel thought of an “attack” as an all-out assault on an enemy-held position rather than a long-drawn-out slither through a maze of interconnecting ducts. Adding to his sense of dissatisfaction was the fact that while he was the one who had discovered where the biotics were hiding, and led the scouting party the day before, Pa-dah had been named to lead the six-person aerial team. But some role was better than no role, especially since his participation meant he would be one of the first people to enter the biotic stronghold.

  Having been given no other choice Hendel was forced to accept his position as the people in front of him elbowed their way forward, air whispered past his ears, and his headlamp played across a pair of worn boot soles. The close quarters meant that none of the mercs could wear anything more than light armor—or carry any weapons other than light machine pistols. The exceptions being two of T’Loak’s biotics who were supposed to protect the rest of them from the Level 3s they expected to encounter inside the cavern. Would Gillian and Nick be among them? Quite possibly. And if Gillian was there which person would he encounter? The naive teenager he was sworn to protect? Or the killer she had become? Each was equally possible.

  In spite of the long crawl the aerial team made good time thanks to the updated schematic that Pa-dah could reference and the directional arrows Hendel had spray-painted onto the ductwork. One after another they tumbled into the junction box, which was barely large enough to hold them. Then it was time for Pa-dah to give some last-minute instructions while two of the mercs prepared the drop lines. “Okay,” the batarian said, “we’ll do this the way we planned it. The objective is to hit the floor in one piece. Then we’ll engage the guards and draw them away from the entrance.

  “That may be all we can accomplish. But if things go especially well I will try to find Kai Leng and take him prisoner. Meanwhile Hendel will attempt to open the gate from the inside. Are there any questions? No? Then let’s get going.”

  A plasma torch was used to carve a hole into the center of the grate, and when the metal disk smacked onto the floor many meters below it sent a cloud of dust into the air. A biotic looked up, saw the invaders sliding down the drop lines, and shouted a warning. A well-aimed burst from a merc cut him down. That was when the defenders began to fire upward—and used their biotic abilities as well.

  As Hendel slid down the rope he saw a merc on line two ripped off the rope. She screamed as she fell toward the rock-hard surface below, hit with a sickening thud, and lay broken on the floor. A small cloud of dust marked her location.

  But in spite of that most of the invaders were able to make it down untouched. That included Hendel, who saw two female biotics rushing toward him. He threw up his hands, willed a singularity into existence, and plucked the defenders off the ground. They were floating helplessly at that point, feet kicking, as he drew his pistol. One of the defenders was an asari. The other was human. Both wore armor without helmets. So Hendel put two rounds into each head. Their bodies went limp and he allowed them to fall.

  Hendel was about to engage another biotic, the turian who seemed to be in charge, when a shockwave hit him from behind. The force of the blow threw him facedown. And when Hendel managed to roll over he found himself staring up at Nick Donahue and the business end of a large-caliber pistol. “Mr. Mitra!” Nick exclaimed. “What are you doing here? You killed Marisa!”

  Fighting raged all around and Hendel was dimly aware of a ground-shaking BOOM as he propped himself up on his elbows. “Marisa? Was she your girlfriend?”

  “Yes, damn you … We were going to get married.”

  “I’m sorry,” Hendel said. “But you brought this on yourself. Remember what Kahlee and I taught you? Those who use their biotic powers to hurt people will pay. It’s just a matter of time.”

  “You bastard,” Nick said through gritted teeth. “You rotten bastard. First you kill Marisa and then you have the balls to claim that it’s my fault. Good-bye, Mr. Mitra. You can preach to the people in hell.”

  “Where is Gillian,” Hendel demanded. “Is she alive?”

  He saw the spark, but didn’t live long enough to hear the report, or feel the projectile smash into his forehead. Nor did Hendel see one of T’Loak’s Level 3 adepts smash Nick to the ground. Their bodies lay two meters apart.

  SIXTEEN

  ON OMEGA

  T’Loak was leaving very little to chance. Two guards, both stationed outside of the steel door, had been killed by snipers before they could give an alarm. Then a small army consisting of more than two hundred mercs had swept into the area, taken control of the adjacent shantytown, and sealed off the street that ran in front of the cavern. “No one goes in—and no one comes out.” That was the order T’Loak had given to Immo.

  Then, after receiving a radio message from Pa-dah, T’Loak’s forces had blown the outer door. The dust was still swirling as a phalanx of mercs charged past a couple of vehicles into the tunnel beyond. Immo came next, followed by T’Loak, and the humans. Kahlee and Anderson were useless baggage insofar as the Pirate Queen was concerned. But she didn’t mind them coming along unless they got in the way. And who knew? If she was lucky one or both of the meddlesome pair would be killed during the fighting. Her goal was to find Kai Leng. So as T’Loak led the way Kahlee and Anderson were right behind her with weapons at the ready.

  The group was about halfway through the tunnel when another explosion was heard and the second gate collapsed inward. The mercs went in firing. One was hurled backward, his arms flailing, as a biotic threw him. Another shook spastically as a hail of projectiles chewed through his armor and pulped his vital organs.

  T’Loak might have been hit as well but wasn’t. She was safe inside the biotic barrier that one of her Level 3 adepts had created to protect her. As a result the only thing on the asari’s mind as her entourage swept into the compound was the need to locate the man responsible for her daughter’s death. “Find Leng,” she ordered grimly, “and bring him to me.”

  By prior agreement Kahlee and Anderson were determined to ignore T’Loak and go looking for Nick and Gillian. As T’Loak’s mercs passed through the second gate, and fanned out across the cavern’s floor, they followed behind. Kahlee saw a body, feared that it might be Gillian’s, and ran to check. But the moment that she knelt next to the bloodstained corpse she realized the woman was older. Kahlee was back on her feet when Anderson’s voice flooded her helmet. He was on a little-used frequency, which the two of them had chosen for personal communications. “Kahlee … Over here.”

  The battle for control of the main floor was over by that time so T’Loak and her mercs were busy working their way up along the spiraling path. There were sporadic bursts of gunfire as the invaders paused to deal with biotics who had taken cover in side caves. So the danger was minimal as Kahlee made her way over to the point where Anderson was standing with hands on knees. “It’s Hendel,” he said. “And Nick.”

  Kahlee uttered an involuntary gasp as she looked at what remained of Hendel’s face. He’d been shot at point-blank range. A pistol was laying not far from Nick’s out-flung hand, and Anderson was in the process of removing a second weapon from one of the boy’s holsters, as Kahlee dropped to one knee. She felt for a pulse. “I think he’s alive. Nick? Can you hear me? It’s Kahlee Sanders.”

  Anderson removed the canteen that was clipped to his belt and splashed some water onto the boy’s face. Nick’s eyelids fluttered and popped open. He stared upward for a moment, as if reluctant to believe what he was seeing, and blinked. “Miss Sanders? I should have known that if Mr. Mitra was here you would be too.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “Bad … Real bad. But it doesn’t matter. Mr. Mitra killed Marisa.”

  Kahlee remembered what Hendel had told her, about seeing Nick with a girl, and guessed the rest. “So you shot him?”

  “Yeah … I was angry.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that Nick. Hendel was a fine man and he deserved better. Especially from a person he was trying to help.”

  Nick looked like he might cry.

  “Where’s Gillian? Was she involved in the fighting?”

  Nick shook his head. “No. We have a prisoner. A Cerberus agent named Leng. Gillian took him away just before the attack. The Illusive Man is going to pay millions of credits to get him back.”

  The mention of Leng and the Illusive Man triggered mental alarms for both Kahlee and Anderson. Their eyes met momentarily before returning to Nick. “Just before the attack?” Anderson demanded.

  “Yes.”

  “Nick, where did they go? Where is the handover?”

  “At the crematorium,” Nick said. “Miss Sanders … My parents. Tell them …”

  “Yes?”

  Nick jerked spasmodically as a shot rang out. Both Kahlee and Anderson looked up to see Immo standing about a meter away with a pistol in his hand. More shots could be heard in the background as other biotics were put to death. The salarian nodded politely. “Aria T’Loak would like to speak with you.”

  “Why you rotten bastard,” Kahlee said, as she came to her feet. “I should …”

  But there was no need to say what she should do as the butt of Anderson’s rifle made contact with the salarian’s head. Immo crumpled to the ground.

  “Come on!” Kahlee said. “If we hurry maybe we can make it.”

  “The handover could be over with by now,” Anderson said, as they ran for the tunnel.

  “True,” Kahlee replied, “but we’ve got to try.”

  “Look!” Anderson exclaimed. “Gyrocycles. I saw them on the way in. Let’s grab one.”

  “You can drive it?”

  A much younger version of Anderson appeared when he smiled. “I can con a spaceship, can’t I?”

  Anderson had already swung a leg over the nearest machine, and thumbed the start switch, when a shout was heard. “Stop the humans! T’Loak wants to speak with them.”

  Kahlee climbed on behind Anderson as the engine roared to life, gravel flew, and some mercs were forced to scatter when Anderson drove straight at them. Then the couple were through the tunnel, out on the street, and speeding away. Projectiles were flying by then, but all of them went wide, as they entered the maze of twisting-turning streets.

  Anderson had been on Omega long enough to navigate between major landmarks by that time, and he had a pretty good idea of where the crematorium was. The problem was heavy traffic. Fortunately the gyrocycle was very maneuverable, which meant he could weave in and out between carts, veer onto sidewalks, and bump his way down a long flight of stairs.

  A tight left-hand turn was called for, but the gyro-stabilized bike took it with ease, and Anderson performed an unintentional wheelie as he cranked the throttle open. There was a thud as the front tire came down, a street vendor went diving for cover, and the two-wheeler hit a rare section of straightaway. “There it is!” Kahlee shouted into his right ear, as a grouping of columns appeared on the rise ahead.

  Anderson released the throttle, applied the brakes, and pulled over next to a tiny shop that sold religious paraphernalia to mourners. Then they were off, running up the slope, hoping to arrive in time.

  Gillian had been assigned to guard Leng and felt a rising sense of excitement as the group entered the crematorium. Leng went first. His hands were cuffed in front of him and the leg shackles made walking difficult. Gillian was immediately behind him followed by Von. Only three people. That was all the Illusive Man had been willing to agree to. They were protected by the biotic barrier Von had established, however, and that made Gillian feel safer.

  As they passed between a pair of fluted columns a downward sloping ramp appeared. And there, standing in front of a three-meter-high pillar of flame, was a human male. The Illusive Man? Yes! He looked like the descriptions she’d heard. The protective shield shimmered, sounds were slightly muffled, and the scene took on a slightly surreal quality as Leng shuffled forward.

  Leng felt like a rat in a trap. It was the worst situation he’d ever been in. But as he led the others down the ramp Leng spotted the Illusive Man. And there, on the platform next to him, two satchels could be seen. The ransom. And the key to his freedom.

  He could hardly believe his eyes. All sorts of emotions welled up inside of him. The first was surprise. The Illusive Man was taking a huge risk by taking part in the handover. The second was gratitude. Because it would have been easy, appropriate even, for the Illusive Man to write him off. Yet there he was, standing all alone, waiting for the threesome to arrive. It was a sight Leng wouldn’t forget.

  They were halfway down the ramp and everything had gone flawlessly so far. But Gillian knew that could change in an instant. So she was looking for signs of treachery. But the Illusive Man was like a magnet that drew her gaze. The distance was closing and the seconds were ticking away. Zon would make the call, but not until they were close enough to grab the satchels that were sitting on the platform.

  As the gap closed to little more than a few meters what felt like bands of steel began to close around Gillian’s chest. Then, when Leng was still a good five meters away, the Illusive Man spoke. “Hello, Kai, it’s good to see you. And the young lady as well.”

  “You killed my father,” Gillian said coldly, as she gathered the energy necessary to kill the man in front of her.

  “Your father was well on the way toward killing himself,” the Illusive Man said, “but yes, I played a role. It was for a good cause, however. We learned a great deal from the experiments that were performed on your father. Enough to make an army of Graysons.”

  Gillian launched a reave. It should have ripped the Illusive Man’s nervous system apart and killed him within a matter of seconds. It didn’t. The Illusive Man smiled grimly. “That’s what I thought … You and your kind can’t be trusted. But the agreement stands. Take the ransom and leave Leng.”

  Gillian was both confused and angry. The Illusive Man should have been dead. But there he was talking to her! Zon said, “Gillian! Do what he says! Take the satchels!”

  But Gillian didn’t care about the satchels. So she unleashed a series of biotic attacks that sent a cloud of trash whirling through the air and caused one of the massive three-meter-tall statues that flanked the converter to fall sideways. There was a flash of light as the one-ton object was consumed and disappeared, but the Illusive Man remained untouched.

  Gillian screamed her rage as she drew a pistol and fired. Hits could be seen behind the Illusive Man, as projectiles stuck the supports to either side of the converter, and threw sparks in all directions. That was when Gillian realized that the pellets were passing through the Illusive Man and shouted a warning. “He isn’t real! It’s a holo!”

  Leng felt both disappointment and exultation. On the one hand the Illusive Man hadn’t been willing to put his life on the line. On the other hand the head of Cerberus was going to extreme lengths to get him back. But what to do? Allow the biotics to take him away? Or fight? It was an easy decision.

  Rather than connect his handcuffs to a waist chain the way they should have, the biotics had left his arms free. That was a mistake and Gillian paid for it as Leng brought his hands around. They were clenched, so as to form a bony club, and when it struck the side of Gillian’s skull she went flying. Her body hit, rolled, and came to a stop.

  Leng charged in. He was determined to follow up quickly and put the biotic out of action for good. But Gillian was quick. She sprang to her feet and delivered a blow of her own. It plucked Leng off the floor and slammed him down. The problem was obvious. She had a long-range weapon while he had none. So the key was to get in close where the girl’s talents would be of limited value—and his strength would make the critical difference. But how? Leng allowed himself to go limp.

  Gillian saw Leng hit the floor and remain there. The whole plan had gone terribly wrong. But one thing was clear. The Illusive Man clearly cared about Leng. So if she could recapture the assassin, and march out of the crematorium, she would have leverage over the Illusive Man.

  It appeared as though Leng was either unconscious or dead. But what if it was a trick? Gillian drew her pistol and approached one step at a time. Her eyes were focused on Leng’s face—and that was a mistake. A sudden kick knocked her feet out from under her, the handgun went flying, and Leng came back to life. He pounced on Gillian and his weight held her down.