“As I’m sure you’re aware,” the Illusive Man said, “Aria T’Loak was anything but pleased when Gillian Grayson went on a rampage inside the Afterlife. So she put a price on Gillian’s head. Ten thousand credits dead or alive. Then something interesting happened. T’Loak ordered her people to modify the offer. She’s still willing to pay ten thousand for the girl … but only if she’s alive and in good health. The question is why?”

  Leng was surprised to hear it. And concerned as well. Because if Aria’s mercs wanted to keep Gillian alive that would make killing her that much more difficult. “I have no idea,” he said levelly. “But I did witness an incident that might have a bearing on the situation. After trashing the Afterlife Gillian took refuge in a warehouse occupied by the quarians. And when she came out, a woman was waiting for her. A biotic named Cory Kim.”

  “So you know her?”

  “We were in prison together. As you know, a Cerberus recruiter arranged for our release. I stayed but she left. In any case, Kim spoke with Gillian and they left together. I was hoping for a clean shot but never got one.”

  “That’s interesting,” the Illusive Man observed. “Especially the part about Kim being a biotic. She’s a biotic, Gillian is a biotic, and an organization called the Biotic Underground is on the rise.”

  “Maybe they want to recruit Gillian.”

  “That seems likely,” the Illusive Man mused. “If they do, and Aria’s people want to protect her, your job will become even more difficult.”

  “So my orders are the same?”

  “Yes,” the Illusive Man said. “Find Gillian Grayson and kill her before someone hands her over to Aria. There’s no way to know what our asari friend is up to, but I doubt it will benefit Cerberus.”

  Leng rose to leave. “Understood.”

  “And one more thing …”

  “Yes?”

  “Kahlee Sanders and David Anderson were seen meeting with Aria in the Afterlife. Chances are that the conversation had to do with finding Gillian Grayson and Nick Donahue, but maybe not. Keep your eyes peeled. Don’t forget … Anderson has been in touch with the Council, so there’s a chance that one or more of the members are involved somehow.” The chair whirred and the Illusive Man turned his back on the room. The meeting was over.

  ON OMEGA

  The scope of what the Biotic Underground hoped to accomplish was truly staggering. Rather than simply work their way up Omega’s criminal hierarchy they wanted to take control of everything. And that included both the Citadel and the Council.

  It was difficult to believe that such a thing could be possible and some of Gillian’s skepticism must have been visible on her face as Mythra Zon smiled from the other side of the circular table. “It sounds crazy. I know that. But hear me out.

  “The Citadel Council has been in place for thousands of years, and what have they accomplished? Nothing,” Zon said, “other than dealing with new races such as your own and perpetuating the status quo. Remember, the Citadel, the relays, and all the rest of it were in place before the Council came into being.

  “Nothing lasts forever nor should it,” Zon continued. “We believe that the time for new leadership has arrived. And who better to provide it than biotics? We represent all of the various races, aren’t vested in the existing system, and have extraordinary powers. The kind of abilities that will help us seize control and keep it.”

  Gillian had been a good student while at the Grissom Academy. And one of the axioms that had been drilled into her was “that absolute power corrupts absolutely.” So to replace the multiracial council with a biotic meritocracy struck Gillian as a stupid thing to do. Unless you were Mythra Zon and likely to wind up in charge. So Gillian wasn’t buying the bill of goods that the asari was selling.

  She did need a place to stay however—and a way to get her hands on the Illusive Man. And that raised an important question: Could the Biotic Underground be used? That remained to be seen. The key was to hide her true opinions and say the things Zon wanted to hear. It was the sort of duplicity that she’d seen all around her since leaving the academy for the adult world. “It’s a very audacious plan,” Gillian said brightly. “But how can we make something like that happen?”

  “The process is already under way,” Zon answered confidently. “First we worked to raise our profile. Then we robbed T’Loak’s bank. Nick was critical to our success where that endeavor was concerned. The robbery provided us with an operating budget and the sort of respect normally reserved for larger, more entrenched groups. Now we’re going to consume or destroy other organizations until we have complete control of Omega. Once that has been accomplished we will go after the Council. And you could play an important part in making it happen. You’re famous thanks to the battle in the Afterlife and the bounty on your head. That could come in handy.”

  “I’d like to help in any way that I can,” Gillian said earnestly. “Can I make a suggestion?”

  Gillian saw what might have been a look of caution appear in Zon’s eyes. The asari had a need to recruit troops, especially Level 3 biotics, but wanted to retain leadership. She couldn’t say that, however, and was forced to acquiesce. “What did you have in mind?”

  “There are lots of organizations on Omega,” Gillian began. “And by tackling the most prominent one right off the top the Underground was able to gain instant credibility.”

  Gillian had been listening. Zon nodded approvingly.

  “So that raises the question of which group to tackle next,” Gillian continued. “Conventional wisdom might suggest the Blue Suns or a similar gang. But I would like to suggest an alternative. I’m thinking of a secret organization that has more reach than the Suns do, is a clear threat to all but one of the Council races, and if defeated would clear the way for the Biotic Underground to gain more influence.”

  Zon appeared to be genuinely intrigued. “And the name of this organization is?”

  Gillian smiled grimly. “Cerberus.”

  “It sounds good,” Kathar said, as he spoke for the first time. “But unlike the Suns, Cerberus has no clearly defined presence on Omega. What would we attack?”

  “The best way to kill a monster is to cut off its head,” Gillian said grimly. “And in this case that means the Illusive Man.”

  Gillian was watching Zon’s eyes to see how she would react and saw a succession of emotions flicker through them. Doubt, fear, and greed. Because in spite of everything Zon knew, Gillian was correct. If the Underground managed to destroy Cerberus it would be a very big deal indeed. And a natural lead-in to eliminating Aria T’Loak. “Okay,” the asari said hesitantly. “But how?”

  It was the question that Zon was supposed to ask—and Gillian felt a momentary sense of satisfaction. Then, based on a plan that seemed to create itself as she spoke, Gillian told the biotics how they could kill the Illusive Man.

  Most of the people on Omega knew about the Afterlife club and the fact that T’Loak could often be spotted in a private enclosure on the second floor. What they didn’t know was that her real office was in a heavily secured basement underneath the nightspot, along with a sophisticated communications center, an armory, and two escape tunnels. Neither of which had ever been used. And that was where the crime lord was, seated behind a nearly transparent desk, when a chime sounded. She said, “Video on,” and the text on her flat screen was replaced by an image of Tann Immo. “The files have been deencrypted,” he said. “They are ready for review.”

  T’Loak said, “Thank you,” and ordered her in-box to appear. The item she’d been waiting for was right at the top of a lengthy list. She smiled grimly. Kahlee Sanders was either naive, a fool, or both. Once T’Loak knew where Grayson’s files were located she wasn’t about to wait around for someone to turn Gillian in so she could access them.

  Within minutes of the meeting with Kahlee and Anderson T’Loak had issued orders to operatives on the Citadel. And two hours later they hacked into Kahlee’s computer via the extranet, sucked it dry, and went about the delicate task of opening her files without triggering the self-destruct program designed to defend them. That took some doing, but T’Loak’s techs were up to the task, and now the information was hers.

  Rather than delegate the task of going through the data to an underling Aria was determined to read all of it herself. Because what she was looking for would be buried in the details. The kind of thing that only she would recognize as being important.

  So T’Loak read, and read, until she was couldn’t read anymore. Then she took a nap on the couch that took up most of one wall. Two hours later she got up and read again. Meals came and were removed. Messages went unanswered. All so T’Loak could accomplish one thing—and that was to identify Liselle’s killer.

  Finally, after more than twenty hours of unrelenting work T’Loak found what she’d been looking for. Having compared Shella’s description of the man who slit Liselle’s throat with actual surveillance footage of the assassin who killed Grayson, and a snapshot taken from the murdered man’s files, she had a name: Kai Leng. A Cerberus operative just as Shella had said. The knowledge gave T’Loak a deep sense of satisfaction and fed her ever-growing desire for revenge. Leng was going to die.

  But where was the killer? On Omega? Or somewhere else? There was only one way to find out and that was to ask the Beggar King. A request went to Hobar, who replied a scant ten minutes later. Not only had the volus seen the person in question, the man was a client, and currently searching for a human female. The same female dozens of groups and bounty hunters were looking for—the biotic who had gone on a rampage inside the Afterlife.

  T’Loak felt her heart start to beat a little bit faster. Things were starting to come together. The offer she sent to Hobar was extremely generous and it wasn’t long before every beggar on Omega was looking for Kai Leng. And one hour and sixteen minutes later they found him.

  After the meeting with Von and the rest of the biotics Gillian had been shown to her quarters, which consisted of a cavelike room on the second level. The furnishings included a bed, a footlocker, a chair, and a very small table. But it was the terminal that sat on top of it that captured her attention.

  Gillian sat down, hurried to free the green jewel from its chain, and dropped it into the universal port located on top of the machine. Then, like a specter from the past, Paul Grayson appeared. He looked ill but managed a smile. “Hello, Gigi. So now you know … The jewel was more than a pretty bauble to hang around your neck. There’s no way to be sure when you’ll see this. But I’m likely to be dead by then. And at some point you’ll wonder what happened to me and why. It’s all here. Every bit of it. All taken from Cerberus. But I warn you that some of the footage is difficult to look at. I love you, Gigi … And I’m sorry I wasn’t a better father.”

  That was when the image of her father disappeared and the rest of it began. There were hundreds of pages of reports, thousands of sensor readouts, and one extremely disturbing holo. As Gillian watched the footage sobs came from somewhere deep inside her. And by the time the segment was over she felt sick to her stomach. You will pay for what you did, Gillian thought to herself, and the price will be very, very high.

  Having been returned to Omega’s surface Leng had elected to visit one of his favorite restaurants rather than return to the safe house. He was tired, but hungry as well, and there was very little food in the apartment.

  The restaurant was called the Blue Marble and specialized in Earth cuisine. Leng was partial to Mexican food so he ordered an enchilada, some tacos, and a shot of Honzo. The Marble was packed and that was one of the reasons why he liked the place. Leng spent a great deal of time by himself. And it was depressing to eat alone. So with drink in hand he settled in to watch the crowd. And that’s what he was doing when it began to dwindle.

  Leng wasn’t alarmed at first, and why should he be? Groups of people entered and departed the restaurant all the time. But then he noticed something strange. At first it looked like the proprietor was simply making the rounds, slapping backs, and schmoozing his regulars.

  Then Leng realized that shortly after speaking to the owner the Blue Marble’s patrons got up and left. Even if they hadn’t finished their food or paid for it. And that was when an alarm began to sound in the back of his mind. The man in the greasy apron was systematically emptying his own restaurant. Why? Because the rotten bastard knows something I don’t, Leng concluded. Something bad is about to happen and he wants his customers to survive.

  There was a back door. Through the steamy kitchen. Leng knew that because he never ate in a place that lacked one. But if he was correct, and something bad was about to happen, then it would be covered.

  So rather than try for it Leng chose what he considered to be a better alternative. And that was to shoot the restaurant owner in the head. Partly as an act of revenge, but mostly to trigger a stampede, which he did. The report sounded unnaturally loud in the enclosed space, blood and brains splattered one of the customers, and she screamed.

  That brought the rest of them to their feet as all but one of the patrons sent chairs and tables flying as they sought to exit through the front door. The single exception was a long lean piece of work who believed that he could kill the problem and finish his dinner. His pistol had barely cleared its holster when Leng shot him in the throat. Blood flew sideways, he back-pedaled into a wall, and was dead by the time his butt hit the floor.

  At that point Leng joined the stampede. He was just about to exit through the front door when the shooting began. Leng concluded that a turf war was under way, or the attackers were trying to kill a particular customer, and didn’t care how many innocent people were gunned down in the process.

  But what would have worked on one of the more civilized planets wasn’t so easy on Omega where everybody went armed. And that included the armor-clad Blue Sun mercenary who was directly in front of Leng and already returning fire. He was a big man and that worked to Leng’s advantage as he took shelter behind the soldier and looked for a way out.

  The attackers were all around, firing from cover, and riddling the front of the Blue Marble with hundreds of rounds. Half a dozen hapless customers had already been cut down and Leng knew the Blue Sun wouldn’t be able to remain upright forever. So he did a pirouette as if he’d been hit and went down. Then, by elbowing his way between a couple of bodies he was able to gain the cover of a badly overflowing dumpster. It was made of steel and Leng could hear a steady ping, ping, ping as he took refuge behind it. Projectiles were passing through the container but were too high to hit him.

  Finally Leng had the seconds necessary to retrieve the rifle that was slung across his back and put it to work. It was dark but by firing at muzzle flashes he was able to score three hits in less than a minute. That had the effect of reducing the amount of incoming fire and intimidating however many survivors were left. Could they summon reinforcements? Leng figured they could and took advantage of the interlude to slip away.

  Then, having moved shadow to shadow, he cleared the area where the Blue Marble was located and pursued a zigzag course toward the safe house. He was hungry, but not enough to start over with another restaurant, so whatever was available at the apartment would have to do. Halfway home he started to limp. It had, all things considered, been a bad day.

  TWELVE

  ON OMEGA

  What light there was came from the cracks between projectile-proof shutters, store signs, and the slightly-out-of-focus ads that slip-slid across vertical walls. Visibility was poor so Kai Leng checked his back trail twice on the way home, even going so far as to stand in the canyon of blackness between two buildings for a full five minutes before following the narrow street to the safe house where he was staying. Guards were positioned in doorways and on roofs, but none of them cared what Leng did, so long as he didn’t cause trouble for their upper-class clients.

  A new set of guards were stationed in front of the Cerberus safe house. But that wasn’t unusual because the company the mercs worked for had to rotate their personnel three times per day. One member of the two-person team was salarian and the other was a turian. Both viewed Leng suspiciously as he paused in front of the scanner on the gate but turned their backs as the barrier began to open.

  A second scan was required before Leng could enter the building. Then he took the elevator up to the third floor where it was necessary to enter a four-digit code to enter the apartment. As the door began to open Leng was looking forward to a snack and eight hours of sleep. But as he stepped people with strong hands grabbed him from both sides. Within a matter of seconds both his rifle and pistol were taken from him. Then a person he hadn’t seen in a long time stepped into view.

  Cory Kim smiled. “You know the drill, Kai … Lock your hands behind your neck. And don’t try anything. We’ll slam you against the wall if you do.”

  Leng had no choice but to obey. He could hear the comm set chiming as Kim circled around behind him. Leng felt her pat him down, take the knife from his right boot, and withdraw. He grinned. “Everything is just the way you left it.”

  “Which is to say limp,” Kim retorted, as she completed her task and circled back in front of him. “So, Gillian,” Kim added, “have you seen him before?”

  Leng felt a sudden shock of recognition as he realized that the girl he’d been sent to kill was standing right in front of him! She was wearing a hood, which she threw back. She saw the look on his face and nodded grimly. “Yes, I think so … Just glimpses. But he looks familiar.”

  Leng’s mind was racing. How much did the girl know? All he could do was keep his composure and wait for some sort of opportunity. His eyes were locked with Gillian’s. “So you’re part of the Biotic Underground.”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes,” Gillian confirmed. “It turns out that we have certain goals in common.”