But true to the chef’s word the kitchen had been spared. And there, against the back wall, was a small table where the restaurant’s employees could take a break. Garza put water on to boil before sitting opposite her. “How much will you pay?”

  “That depends on what you know,” Mott replied. “If you can tell me who organized the attack, and why they did so, I’ll pay you five hundred credits.”

  “A thousand.”

  “Six hundred. And that’s final. Remember, this is found money. I doubt anyone else cares who launched the attack.”

  Garza looked cautious. “Yes and no. I can think of one person who might care … An individual who would be very upset were I to talk about them.”

  “I promise I won’t tell.”

  “You drive a hard bargain citizen Hoby … If that’s your name. Six hundred it is. Would you like cream and sugar with your tea?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Having served his guest Garza sat down. Their eyes met. “There was a man. He came into the restaurant, sat down, and ordered Mexican food.”

  “Describe him.”

  Garza did so and Mott felt her pulse quicken. Because the description fit Leng to a T. “Okay. He sat down. Then what?”

  “A salarian came to the back entrance,” Garza said, as he jerked a thumb at the door behind him. “He told me that an attack was about to take place and said we could warn our customers.”

  “Except for the man who was eating Mexican food?”

  “Exactly. I told the manager and he passed the word.”

  Mott frowned. “Why would the attackers warn you? It doesn’t make sense.”

  Garza eyed her over the rim of his cup. “The manager ran the Blue Marble, but he didn’t own it.”

  Mott felt a rising sense of excitement. “Who does?”

  “Aria T’Loak.”

  “So she attacked her own restaurant?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Garza shrugged. “She wanted to kill the man I described earlier. It didn’t work though. A lot of people wound up dead but the man she was after escaped.”

  There were more questions and more answers. But none of them explained why T’Loak wanted Leng dead. So Mott paid Garza, left the restaurant, and resumed her investigation. It didn’t take long to find out about the attack on the Grim Skulls and the way Tactus had been dragged through the streets.

  Was there some sort of connection between the attack on the Skulls and T’Loak’s attempt to murder Leng? Mott couldn’t see one but knew that Jana and the Illusive Man would expect her to follow up on every possible lead.

  With that in mind Mott went looking for people who had firsthand knowledge of the attack on Grim Skull headquarters, only to discover that most of the mercs were dead. And T’Loak’s personnel weren’t talking. But her legwork did succeed in turning up one possible lead. And that was a Skull who had not only been spared by T’Loak but taken to a hospital by the Pirate Queen’s personnel. The obvious question being why T’Loak would kill all of the Skulls with the single exceptions of their leader and a lowly foot soldier?

  So Mott set off for the so-called Chop House, the much storied medical facility where Omega’s poor were cared for, but everyone else sought to avoid. The front of the plain two-story structure was decorated with a faded sign that read OMEGA GENERAL HOSPITAL, and some poorly patched combat damage. As Mott approached a narrow, six-wheeled “meat wagon” was pulling away.

  The patient who had been left behind was on a gurney, and judging from the bloody bandages on his chest, had been shot. Mott followed as a couple of orderlies pushed the cart into the hospital. They continued on, heading toward the brightly lit emergency room off to the left, but Mott paused in the lobby. It was a madhouse. At least twenty people where waiting to be seen, and a long line led up to the reception desk, which was staffed by a single harried-looking asari. A constant babble of conversation filled the air. It was punctuated by terse announcements and the incessant wail of a sick child. The overall impression was one of chaos, misery, and hopelessness.

  So rather than join the line that led to the reception desk Mott strolled past it and made for the set of double doors that led to the first-floor wards. Once inside there were very few staff members. That meant patients had to rely on family members and friends for the majority of their care. And with so many people coming and going Mott was free to go wherever she chose.

  Mott hadn’t been able to obtain a picture of the woman named Shella but she knew the Grim Skull was human and female. So she could ignore human males, turians, batarians, and all the rest. But after making her way through the wards, and eyeballing every patient not hidden behind ratty-looking curtains, Mott had seen only three possibles. All of whom denied being Shella-Shella and didn’t match the description the operative had.

  So she rode a blood-splattered elevator up to the second floor where Mott continued her search. Conditions were similar to those on the floor below. Some of the patients directed wistful looks her way, clearly hoping that she was a doctor come to examine them, while others frowned resentfully.

  But when success came it wasn’t what she expected. The woman coming her way was dressed in street clothes and, if it hadn’t been for the crutches she was using, would have been able to pass Mott without attracting attention. But the Cerberus operative knew that the person she was looking for had been shot in the knee, and moved to block the way. “Excuse me … Is your name Shella?”

  The woman had extremely short hair and pinched features. “Who’s asking?”

  “My name is Hoby. I’d like to ask you some questions.”

  “About what?”

  “The Grim Skulls, the attack on the crawler, and why you were spared.”

  “I have nothing to say. Please get out of the way.”

  Mott remained where she was. “There are better medical facilities on Omega.”

  “And they cost money.”

  “Answer my questions and you’ll be able to afford one.”

  Shella was silent for a moment. “I need an operation. They can’t perform it here and I wouldn’t want them to.”

  “How much?”

  “Ten thousand.”

  “Done.”

  Shella’s eyebrows rose. “I should have demanded fifteen.”

  Mott smiled. “Something is better than nothing.”

  “Give me half up front and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  “I’ll give you a thousand up front,” Mott said. “And I’ll get you out of here.”

  Shella paused but only for a second. “It’s a deal.”

  “Shall we get your belongings?”

  “What belongings? I’m wearing them.”

  Half an hour later the women were seated across from each other in a comfortable restaurant with Shella’s leg propped up on a chair. The food in the Chop House had been awful so Shella took the opportunity to order a hearty meal. Immediately after their drinks arrived Mott began to ask questions. “You were a Grim Skull. And T’Loak killed all of the Grim Skulls except for you and Tactus. Why were you spared?”

  Shella took a sip of caf. “Remind me. Who are you working for?”

  “A person who can afford to pay you ten thousand credits,” Mott replied. “Please answer the question.”

  Shella shrugged. “Okay … Have it your way. The Skulls teamed up with a group called the Biotic Underground in order rob a bank owned by T’Loak. And the plan worked. Except that I was shot in the knee and left behind.

  “T’Loak was going to have me killed. But I had information regarding her daughter’s death. So I offered to tell her what happened in exchange for my life. And she agreed.”

  Mott felt a rising sense of excitement. “The knowledge you referred to. How did you come by it?”

  There was a long pause—as if Shella was considering her options. Then she spoke. “I used to be a freelancer. And at one point I worked for a very secretive group. An organization called Cerberus.”

  The answer was so unexpected that Mott knew there was a look of surprise on her face. “Cerberus? The human advocacy group?”

  Shella produced a snort of derision. “That’s how they describe it. But Cerberus does a lot more than promote human rights. They carry out all sorts of operations against people and organizations they perceive to be a threat.”

  “So where does T’Loak’s daughter come in?”

  “She doesn’t. Not directly. But she was romantically involved with a man named Paul Grayson. And, for reasons I’m not entirely sure of, Cerberus was out to get him. So the operative in charge assembled a team and we broke into Grayson’s apartment.”

  Mott’s chest felt tight. “And his name was?”

  “He went by Manning on Omega. But I doubt that was his real name.”

  Mott battled to keep a straight face. She knew Manning’s real name and it was Leng. She was close. Very close. A few more questions and she would know why T’Loak was after Leng. “So, you broke in. Then what?”

  Shella looked away before bringing her eyes back into contact with Mott’s. “Grayson got away, but someone put a tranq dart into T’Loak’s daughter, and she was laying there. Manning slit her throat.”

  Mott frowned. “Why?”

  Shella shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he had orders to kill her. Or maybe he was in the mood.”

  “So you told T’Loak and she let you go.”

  “Yes. Twice.”

  Mott thought about what she’d been told. Leng had killed T’Loak’s daughter. No wonder the Pirate Queen was out to get him. “You’re a lucky lady.”

  “Am I? I don’t feel lucky.”

  “Maybe an additional nine thousand credits will make you feel better,” Mott said. “Then, after that operation, you might want to leave Omega. It’s a very dangerous place to live.”

  Keys rattled, the door opened, and Leng was ready. Once a day he was allowed to leave his cell and accompany Cory Kim down the spiraling pathway to the floor of the cavern. Sometimes they walked back and forth across it and on other occasions they walked in circles. Leng wasn’t wearing restraints nor was there a need for them since Kim or any of the other biotics could slam his ass anytime they chose to.

  But that didn’t mean Leng couldn’t escape. All he needed was some help. And Kim could supply it. That was the plan anyway as they arrived on the main floor and began to walk back and forth. It was the only time during the day when Leng could talk to Kim without being monitored by the pickups in his cell. That made every second precious. “So tell me something,” he began. “Are there times when you miss Hell’s Half Acre?”

  Kim looked sideways at him. “You must be kidding.”

  Leng smiled crookedly. “Not the prison. That was horrible. I meant you and I.”

  Kim eyed the ground ahead. “Maybe. Sometimes. But was it real? We were trying to survive. So it made sense to team up.”

  “That’s true,” Leng said as they were forced to turn, and start back. “But there was more to it than that.”

  “Really? I never felt sure.”

  “You left me. Not the other way around.”

  “No,” Kim said. “I left Cerberus. There’s a difference. Or there used to be anyway.”

  “I owe Cerberus,” Leng replied. “We both do. If it wasn’t for Cerberus we’d be in Hell’s Half Acre. Or dead.”

  “Cerberus is using you,” Kim replied. “You don’t seem to care but I did. There are limits to what one should do for a cause. Even a good one.”

  “So you joined the Biotic Underground. And now you’re in the kidnapping business.”

  “I tried all sorts of things after I left Cerberus. The Biotic Underground being the latest. And we’re not in the kidnapping business. We need money, that’s all … Biotics are naturally superior. We’re more intelligent thanks to the way our brains are put together, more resilient because of the dangers we have to overcome before we’re born, so when we’re in charge things will improve.”

  “For who?” Leng demanded. “For you? For humanity? Or for your leaders?”

  “For everyone,” Kim said stubbornly. “For all races.”

  Leng shrugged. “Maybe that’s the problem, hon … Maybe we should have been focused on ourselves. We had something special—and seeing you reminds me of that.”

  Kim smiled as they arrived at the other side of the cavern and made the turn. “Are you trying to sweettalk me, Kai? If so, it won’t work.”

  “No,” Leng lied. “I’m thinking about my life, that’s all. Thinking about what is—and what could have been.”

  There was a long moment of silence as they walked side by side. Kim was the first to speak. “Get over it Kai. What’s gone is gone.”

  The words were harsh, but Leng thought he could detect a wistful tone in her voice. He wasn’t free. Not by a long shot. But the first step had been taken.

  FOURTEEN

  ON OMEGA

  The conference room consisted of a cavern located just off the main floor. And while Mythra Zon took her seat at the table the conversation stopped. Zon smiled as she looked from face to face. “Most of us are here for a change. That’s good because we have plenty to talk about starting with T’Loak’s efforts to locate us. Arrius? What can you tell us?”

  Arrius Sallus was in charge of security. An important responsibility to begin with and one made even more so by the fact that the Pirate Queen was eager to find the organization and destroy it. “Well,” Sallus responded, “T’Loak is offering a reward of five thousand credits to anyone who can provide her with information regarding our location.”

  Ocosta Lem frowned. “That’s a real concern. Someone is bound to notice our movements and turn us in.”

  “True,” Sallus replied. “Which is why I paid more than two dozen street people to submit bogus sightings. T’Loak’s operatives will have to check on each one and that will take time.”

  “Well done,” Zon said. “The last thing I want to do is wind up in a cage right next to Tactus. I think we all know what’s going to happen to him once T’Loak has made her point.”

  “Tactus is an idiot,” Rasna Vas Kathar put in sourly. “He should have prepared his people for a counterattack. Instead he just sat there counting T’Loak’s money and drinking beer.”

  “But he was a useful idiot,” Sallus countered. “Thanks to his stupidity T’Loak focused all of her attention on him. And we gained more time.”

  “That’s true,” Zon allowed. “But the clock is ticking. We’ll have to pull out and do it soon. And when I say ‘pull out’ I mean leave Omega for a safer location. Who knows? Once we destroy Cerberus it might be time to tackle the Citadel.”

  “If we destroy Cerberus,” Kathar put in doubtfully. “I’ve been thinking about the plan and I’m starting to have some doubts. If T’Loak can chase us off Omega, what makes us think we can destroy Cerberus?”

  “Maybe we’ll fail,” Zon responded. “But it’s worth a try. The plan Gillian put forward is so audacious it might work. Where is Gillian anyway? I thought she was going to join us.”

  Kathar chose his words carefully. The truth was that he didn’t trust Gillian, although he wasn’t sure why. Plus, he feared that her rising star might eclipse his own. “That was my hope,” he lied. “But with T’Loak on the hunt I thought it would be best to put both Gillian and Nick on the front entrance.”

  Sallus frowned, opened his mouth as if about to object, and closed it again.

  “Okay,” Zon responded, “but I think the plan is sound. We have Leng, and judging from the Illusive Man’s initial response, Cerberus wants him back. So all we have to do is get the Illusive Man to deliver the ransom and then kill him.”

  Zon made it sound simple. But Kathar wasn’t buying it. Not for a moment. He couldn’t say that however. “Yes, well, how are negotiations going?”

  Ocosta Lem was in charge of the process and the salarian cleared his throat. “The Illusive Man refused our initial demand—and offered five million instead.”

  “That’s to be expected,” Zon said mildly. “The most important thing is bring the Illusive Man to Omega.”

  “Yes,” Lem acknowledged. “Although it would behoove us to keep the amount as high as possible in hopes that we’ll be able to kill the Illusive Man and keep the money.”

  Sallus grinned. “I like the way you think.”

  “So we countered at seven five,” Lem said. “And we’re waiting for a response.”

  “The Illusive Man will go for it,” Zon predicted. “He wants Leng back.”

  “Speaking of Leng,” Kathar said, “was it wise to place Kim in charge of monitoring him? They have a prior relationship you know.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that,” Sallus said pointedly. “Cory and I spoke about it. She assures me that they were acquaintances. Nothing more.”

  Kathar could tell that Sallus was still annoyed regarding his decision to put Gillian and Nick on guard duty. So rather than aggravate Sallus further he chose to back down. “Good. There’s nothing to worry about then.”

  Zon was aware of the tension between her subordinates and sought to placate them. “There are dangers. But we know what they are … And we’re prepared to deal with them. Thank you, everyone. This meeting is adjourned.”

  Anderson was dreaming. It was a nice dream, or would have been except for the klaxon that was bleating. Then a hand touched his arm and he awoke. “David,” Kahlee said. “David … Pick up the handset. It could be important.”

  The comm was located on his side of the bed so Anderson fumbled for the receiver and brought it to his ear. Maybe Gillian was calling. Or someone who knew where Gillian was. “This is David Anderson.”

  There was a pause followed by a brief burst of static. “Admiral Anderson? Dor Hana here.”

  Anderson struggled to sit up. Hana! He felt a sudden wave of guilt. He was being paid to gather information about whoever had absconded with Paul Grayson’s body and possible connections to the Reapers. But he’d spent all of his time looking for Gillian and Nick. He cleared his throat. “Good evening, sir. Or good morning as the case may be.”