04 - The Syndicate by Jon F. Merz

Author:Jon F. Merz
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

The last tiling I wanted to do was fight a dwarf with an attitude problem.

But Cho didn't seem to be in the mood for excuses. Part of me suspected he had something he wanted to prove—some sort of inferiority complex that needed soothing.

And now I had a big problem.

If I fought to the best of my ability, I might actually kill the pint-sized son-of-a-bitch. And if I threw the fight, that might be just as bad. Cho might suspect me of being a rollover and therefore no good to his organization.

The goal, I had to keep reminding myself, was to be able to penetrate the Syndicate, see what it was truly up to, and then bring about its downfall. Because even if the Council liked sleeping with these bastards, I'd already decided that they didn't deserve to exist.

Cho stepped around his desk. His bodyguards moved around the desk as well.

I grinned. "Three against one?"

Cho looked back and waved off the guards. They stepped back. "You'll have to forgive my associates. They take their duties very seriously."

"Lucky me."

"Lucky me, actually," said Cho. "I would have died a long time ago if not for their intervention."

"Assassination attempts?"

"Absolutely."

"I wasn't aware such action had been sanctioned by the Council."

"Oh, it wasn't a Fixer trying to get me. We've had competition in the past."

I stood up. "So, how do you want to do this? We fight now and the winner does what?"

"There's no real winner or loser here. I just want you to know what type of man I am. Even with my apparent weaknesses."

"I try to never judge a book by its cover. Your apparent weaknesses don't matter much to me."

"I'm not entirely sure I believe that," said Cho.

"Trust is always such a good way for us to start our relationship."

"Besides, I just showed you your cousin. Imprisoned and not very comfortable. I'm sure you must feel some anger toward me. Wouldn't you like to take out some of that frustration?"

"Oh sure, I get lucky with a punch and your goons there come over and stomp my ass into next week. That makes good sense."

Cho smiled. "You have my word. If you do indeed 'get lucky,' my men will not harm you."

"I'd prefer to hear that from them."

"Impossible."

I frowned. "Why's that impossible."

"Because they are unable to speak. They had their tongues cut out some years ago."

"Who th—?"

"I did," said Cho. "My bodyguards are my most trusted men. And they are always around me. They hear everything. I needed to make sure they would never repeat anything they'd heard come out of my mouth."

I pointed. "What about writing? You forgot to cut off their hands."

Cho chuckled. "No. I didn't." He glanced over his shoulder and said simply, "Show him."

One of the bodyguards rolled up his sleeves and I saw that he didn't have hands at all, just large, round lumps of metal where his wrists ended. They looked like giant clubs.

I cocked an eyebrow. "Good thing you didn't think they were telepathic."

"I have attendants

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