Kai Leng waited patiently in the line of patrons waiting to enter Afterlife. Though it was unlikely he’d run into anyone who’d recognize him on Omega — even Grayson had never met him — he’d still taken steps to hide his identity. He’d dyed his black hair blond and darkened the pigmentation of his skin. The signature ouroboros tattoo on the back of his neck — a snake devouring its tail — was covered with a temporary design of a Celtic knot.
Based on the length of the line, it would be several more hours before he reached the door and was allowed to enter Afterlife, and that was fine by him. He was here to wait, watching patiently for Grayson to reemerge.
Since tracking the former Cerberus member down on Omega nearly two weeks ago, Kai Leng had studied his routine from afar. He was learning Grayson’s patterns, familiarizing himself with his routine.
He had been surprised to discover that Grayson was working for Aria T’Loak; he had risen quickly through the ranks until he’d become a valuable minion of Omega’s most powerful crime lord. That complicated the extraction. Cerberus couldn’t just grab him from a public place and make a break for one of the spaceports. Aria’s influence spread too far on the station; someone would report the abduction. They’d end up having to fight their way through the Pirate Queen’s people to try and escape, and Kai Leng didn’t like those odds.
Secrecy was the key. Capture Grayson alone, where nobody would notice him missing. Get him off the station before anyone even knew he was gone. And make sure nobody could trace it back to Cerberus.
This had proved to be much harder than it sounded. Grayson was careful; he rarely went out in public unless he was on a mission for Aria. The club, a busy grocery store, and the apartment of his asari whore were the only places he ever seemed to visit.
Taking him at his own apartment was the preferred option, of course, but he lived in a secure district.
Any attack on Grayson would have to involve some plan to first get past the guards protecting his neighborhood.
It would have been so much easier if the Illusive Man had simply wanted Grayson dead. Kai Leng could have completed that job within hours of locating him: a slow-acting poison slipped into his drink at the club; a sniper shot between the eyes from a hidden vantage point as Grayson walked down the street.
But extraction was always more difficult than simple assassination.
Kai Leng wasn’t acting alone, of course. He had six of his own people — loyal Cerberus operatives — on standby in an apartment in a neighboring, human-controlled district, just waiting for him to give the signal. With a little luck, it could happen in the next few hours.
Everything had been in place a few days ago, when Grayson had suddenly dropped off the radar. At first Kai Leng feared he’d been made, but some careful inquiries revealed that Grayson had gone on a special mission for Aria. He hadn’t been able to learn all the details, but he’d gathered enough secondhand information to know it had something to do with drugs and one of the rival gangs.
Kai Leng had staked out the club, knowing Grayson’s eventual return to his alien master was inevitable. For three nights he had waited for a glimpse of his target in vain. But tonight his perseverance had been rewarded.
Grayson had entered the club less than an hour ago. If he went home alone tonight, instead of accompanied by the young asari he was sleeping with, they’d strike. If he wasn’t alone, they’d wait for another chance. Kai Leng was nothing if not patient.
Still, he was eager to get off the station. There were too many aliens on Omega, and too few of his own kind. He was an outsider here, subject to the whims of strange beings with cultures and values he had no interest in adapting to. The high crime rate, brutal dictatorship of the gangs, and relative powerlessness of humanity were a grim example of the Illusive Man’s vision of an alien-dominated future.
Kai Leng was convinced that anyone who had doubts about Cerberus had only to visit Omega to truly grasp the fundamental necessity of a pro-human organization willing to do whatever was necessary to defend the species.
The VIP door to the club opened and everyone in line craned their necks eagerly to see who was coming out. They hoped to see a large group: six, seven, or eight individuals leaving the club meant the same number waiting in line would be allowed in to take their place. On seeing only a single human exiting, a palpable murmur of disappointment rippled through the crowd.
Kai Leng felt the opposite emotion as he watched Grayson emerge and wander off in the direction of his apartment alone.
Several patrons near the back of the line gave up in disgust, stepping out of the queue in search of other entertainment. Kai Leng blended in with this crowd to avoid drawing attention, heading off in the opposite direction Grayson went. He continued around a corner until he was safely out of sight; he didn’t want to risk Grayson noticing him if he happened to glance back for any reason.
Reaching up, he activated the two-way transmitter looped over his ear with a light touch.
“Target has left the club alone,” he whispered, knowing the receivers worn by the rest of his team would automatically amplify his words so they could be heard clearly. “The plan is go.”
Grayson made his way back to his apartment, his pace quickening with every step. He didn’t feel right.
Tense. Restless. Frustrated.
Leaving the club had been the right decision; the scene at Afterlife held no appeal for him tonight. But he still felt bad about brushing Liselle off.
She’s right about Kahlee, you know. You always get moody after you talk to her.
He nodded to the guards at the district’s gate as he passed, but didn’t bother to speak as he blew by, his mind too caught up in his own thoughts.
Kahlee was a link to his old life; speaking to her was a way to keep the connection with his daughter alive. Their conversations were a reminder of what he’d once had … and what he had lost.
Those days are gone. Quit torturing yourself.
He reached his building, punched in the code, then quickly ran up the stairs. By the time he reached the door of his apartment he was breathing heavily. But while his physical exertion had raised his heart rate, it had done nothing to quell his inner turmoil.
Inside the apartment he locked the door, pulled the shade down in the sitting room, then stripped off his boots, shirt, and slacks. A few beads of perspiration had broken out on his skin; standing in his underwear in the middle of the room, he shivered in the cool air wafting down from the climate-control vents in the ceiling.
Part of him wanted to call Kahlee again.
Great idea. What are you going to say? You think she cares about your emotional bullshit?
She was probably asleep by now. There was no point in waking her up. And calling her might not make him feel any better; it might actually make things worse.
You’re so messed up you don’t even know what you want. Pathetic.
He began to pace back and forth in front of the couch, trying to burn off the restless energy.
Just leftover adrenaline from the job. You need to relax.
This feeling wasn’t completely new to him. On edge. Wired. During his days with Cerberus, he’d felt this way most of the time. It wasn’t hard to guess the cause: psychological stress.
Working for Aria was a little too close to what he used to do for the Illusive Man. He was falling back into old patterns.
What are you going to do? Tell Aria you quit? You really think she’ll just let you walk away?
Leaving Omega wasn’t a realistic option. He’d just have to find ways to cope. Like he did while working for Cerberus.
One quick hit of red sand and it’s all good.
He couldn’t deny the truth — he was an addict. He’d never last the entire night. Not with the drugs right here in the apartment. But there was a solution: replace one addiction with another.
Making his way into the bedroom, he activated the extranet terminal and tapped the screen to send out a quick call. Liselle answered on the second ring.
“I knew you’d call back.”
Her voice was distorted slightly, the two-way transmitter in the bracelet she wore on her wrist struggling to filter her words out from the background noise of the club’s dance floor.
“I’m sorry I was acting so weird,” he said. “I just felt a little … off.”
“Feeling better now?” she asked, her voice dripping with insinuation. “Want me to come over?”
“As fast as you can” was his earnest reply.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
The call disconnected, and Grayson pushed himself back from the terminal. Twenty minutes. He could last twenty minutes.
Kai Leng and his team — four men and two women — stopped at the gate leading into the district where Grayson lived. The turian guards studied them with something between boredom and contempt, not even bothering to raise their weapons.
It would have been an easy matter to take them out, but unfortunately, eliminating the guards wasn’t an option. They were part of Omega First Security, an independent company hired by wealthy residents to provide protection in a handful of neighborhoods on the station. Each guard post had to check in with the main dispatch every twenty minutes; failure to do so would trigger an emergency response of two dozen reinforcements descending on the district.
“Name,” one of the guards demanded.
“Manning,” Kai Leng replied. “Here to see Paul Johnson.”
The turian glanced down at the screen on his omni-tool. “He didn’t put you on the list. I’ll have to call him to get clearance.”
“Wait,” Kai Leng said quickly. “Don’t call him. This is supposed to be a surprise. It’s his birthday next week.”
The turian hesitated, then gave the seven humans standing before him a closer look.
Kai Leng had dressed his people to fit their cover story. Nobody wore body armor; instead they were attired in colorful clothing befitting current Omega fashion. Instead of a weapon, each member of the team carried a gift wrapped in brightly colored paper.
They were armed, however; each team member had a small tranquilizer pistol carefully hidden somewhere on his or her person. Stunners were smaller and would have been easier to hide, but the tranqs had better range and weren’t limited to two or three shots before needing to be recharged.
“This is a breach of protocol,” the other turian said, though his tone wasn’t one of flat refusal. “We could get fired.”
“We’re not looking to get you in any trouble,” Kai Leng replied, holding up a pair of hundred-credit chips. “Just do us a favor and pretend we were never here.”
Omega Security paid its people well, but that didn’t mean they were immune to bribes under the right circumstances. The group before them looked harmless, and the offer was just enough to tempt them, but not so much it would arouse suspicion.
“Let me look in those gifts first,” the turian said, snatching the chips from the human’s outstretched hand.
Kai Leng had briefly considered having his team hide their weapons inside the gift boxes. Fortunately, his understanding of alien nature had made him reconsider. He knew the turian guards wouldn’t be able to resist asserting their authority over a group of wealthy humans.
For the next few minutes, the turians pawed through the gift boxes. They tore off the wrappers and rummaged around inside, thoroughly — and roughly — inspecting the contents. Their search revealed several bottles of expensive wine, a watch, a pair of cuff links, and a box of premium cigars. When they were finished, the gift boxes had been reduced to shreds of brightly colored paper and a pile of crumpled cardboard strewn about the feet of the guards.
“Clean up this mess and you can go,” the second turian said.
Kai Leng bit his lip and nodded to his crew. One further humiliation: picking up garbage off the street while the guards literally looked down on them. To their credit, his people took the insult without comment, knowing the mission was more important than their burning desire to punish the turians for their alien arrogance.
Just as they were leaving, one of the turians warned, “Mr. Johnson might not be that happy to see you.
His asari friend came through here about ten minutes before you showed up.”
“She’s probably giving him her gift right now,” the other added with a crude chuckle.
Kai Leng swore silently. Seeing that Grayson had left the club alone, he’d dropped surveillance and gone to meet up with his team. He hadn’t considered the possibility that the asari might join him at the apartment later.
Keeping his anger in check, he smiled and said, “We’ll be sure to knock.”
He led his team past the checkpoint and around the corner leading to Grayson’s building. As soon as they were out of sight of the guards he held up a hand, ordering everyone to stop.
He never would have given the go-ahead for the mission if he knew the asari would be there, but it was too late to abort. The guards were sure to ask Grayson about his surprise party in the next few days.
He was smart enough to put the pieces together; he’d know Cerberus had found him. He’d either disappear or get a special security detail from Aria to shadow him. Tonight was their only chance.
“You heard the guard,” he told his team. “Grayson isn’t alone. The asari is with him. We have to take him alive,” he reminded them, stressing the mission’s primary directive. “However, the alien whore is expendable. If you get a chance, kill her.”
He could see from the others’ faces that they all understood this was easier said than done. They expected Grayson to have at least one weapon somewhere in his apartment; the asari could be similarly armed. Even if she wasn’t, she was a biotic. Wearing nothing but party clothes and armed only with tranquilizer pistols, they were at a significant disadvantage.
“Stick to the original plan,” he reassured them. “Strike fast; catch them unprepared. If we’re lucky, it will be over before they even know what’s happening.”
Grayson was panting like a dog. He lay atop the covers of his bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. Liselle was pressed up against him, their naked bodies still intertwined.
“I’m glad you changed your mind,” she murmured in his ear, running her fingers lightly down the center of his bare chest.
Still recovering from their session, he barely managed to croak out, “Me too.”
Sex with Liselle went beyond mere physical pleasure. Like all asari, she established a profound and powerful mental connection with her partner during climax; for a brief instant two minds became one.
Their identities crashed together, splintered, reformed, then tore apart with an overwhelming intensity that left Grayson literally gasping for air.
How are you ever going to go back to humans?
“I need a drink,” he said, gently unraveling himself from Liselle’s long, slender limbs.
He staggered down the hall into the kitchen. He pulled a bottled water from the fridge and drank it all in a single series of long, desperate gulps. He felt light-headed, but the restlessness and anxiety were gone, washed away by Liselle’s incredible skills in the bedroom.
Just as he was about to call out to Liselle to see if she wanted anything, the door to his apartment slid open.
His head snapped around in response to the sound, revealing a small group of people in the hall just outside his door. One was crouched at the edge of the door frame, where she had just finished overriding the security codes. The others were standing in a tight knot, making it hard to accurately gauge their numbers. But two things stood out to Grayson immediately: they all appeared to be human, and they were all armed.
His instincts kicked in and he dropped to the floor, the half-wall shielding him from a round fired by one of the intruders.
Professional. He got that shot off fast.
“Ambush!” he called out to Liselle. “Bedside table!” he added, giving her the location of his weapon.
Told you Cerberus would find you.
He knew there was no way he could win this battle. Naked, unarmed, outnumbered — the odds were impossible. But he didn’t care about survival. All he cared about was getting back to the extranet terminal in the bedroom long enough to send a warning out to Kahlee.
Assuming they haven’t already gotten to her.
Knowing it was a huge risk, he popped his head up over the wall to sneak a peek at the enemy. Three of them fired as soon as his head came into view, but he was able to duck back down and avoid the shots.
Fortunately, they had no way of knowing he was unarmed. Instead of charging in to finish him off, they were still lurking in the hall, taking cover by the edges of the doorway to guard against any return fire.
Grayson made a break for the hall leading to the bedroom, crouching low to the ground. Behind him he heard heavy footsteps as several of the assassins burst into the apartment.
There was a series of sharp twangs as enemy bullets peppered the wall just above him. He heard the hiss as one whizzed past his ear. And then he was around the corner and out of the line of fire.
Odd. Bullets don’t twang.
The stray thought was pushed from his head by the sight of Liselle rushing from the bedroom and down the hall toward him. She was still naked, her right arm extended, her hand clasped firmly around the butt of Grayson’s pistol.
They were both moving fast, and in the split second it took them to realize what was happening it was too late. They plowed into each other, the collision knocking them both to the ground.
Grayson sprang back to his feet, yanking on Liselle’s left arm in a desperate attempt to pull her up. He was already heading toward the bedroom door again, moving backward as he half-dragged the asari with him. Amazingly, she’d managed to hold on to the pistol despite being bowled over and having her arm nearly wrenched from its socket.
A Cerberus agent skidded around the corner from the kitchen, bearing down on them. Grayson’s grip instinctively tightened on Liselle’s arm as he braced himself to receive a slug in the chest. From her half-prone position, Liselle waved the hand holding the gun vaguely in their enemy’s direction as he took aim, the physical action triggering the synapses in her brain to unleash a quick burst of dark side energy.
The asari didn’t have enough time to gather her power for a truly devastating attack. The biotic push didn’t do any real harm, but it knocked their opponent off balance, sending his shot harmlessly into the ceiling as he staggered back around the corner and out of sight.
They were less than a meter away from the bedroom when the attacker ducked around the corner a second time, already firing. From point-blank range he unloaded a single shot, catching Liselle in the chest. She gasped and, with Grayson still dragging her down the hall, threw up her free hand to return fire.
The high-powered pistol unleashed a wild spray of bullets, the automated targeting computer compensating as best it could for Liselle’s erratic aim. At least one round found its mark — a burst of red splashed across the wall and the Cerberus agent slumped to the ground.
Grayson kept his legs churning as Liselle’s body went limp, the pistol sliding from her nerveless fingers as they crossed the bedroom’s threshold. Releasing his grip on his lover, Grayson punched the panel on the wall and the door slammed shut, buying him a few moments of precious time.
He hoisted Liselle up and tossed her on the bed, frantically searching her naked body for the wound.
He expected to see a hole torn through her sternum; instead he found only a small pinprick perfectly centered between her breasts.
The pieces finally fell into place when he realized that Liselle, though unresponsive, was still breathing.
The almost invisible wound. The strange twang of their ammo. They’re using tranquilizer rounds. They want to take you alive.
He didn’t know if that was better or worse. In either case, the realization did little to change the equation. He still had to warn Kahlee.
He could hear the intruders in the hall, just outside the bedroom door. It had no lock, but they were still being cautious — they knew their target wasn’t using tranq rounds. But he didn’t have long.
Leaving Liselle’s unconscious body on the bed, he raced over to the extranet terminal on the far side of the room. Tapping frantically at the haptic interface screens, he logged on to the extranet and sent Kahlee the files he’d assembled over the past two years.
The second the message was away he activated the purge, deleting every file on his system, including all records of his incoming and outgoing messages.
An instant later the door slid open. Grayson turned and charged his attackers.
He had taken but one step when he felt the sting of two tranq rounds in his chest. By the third step he was already out.
Kai Leng stood motionless for several seconds after Grayson’s body slumped to the floor, the tranq pistol still pointed at the target in case he needed to fire another round. When it became clear that his adversary was unconscious, he lowered the weapon and began barking out orders.
“He was sending a message. Check the terminal — see if he was calling for backup.”
Shella, their tech expert, ran over to inspect the computer in the corner.
“The rest of you search the room. Grab any weapons you can find. We’ll need something more than these pop guns to take out those turians at the guard post.”
“What about her?” Shella asked, nodding in the direction of the unconscious asari on the bed even as her fingers tapped away at the terminal’s interface.
“Leave her to me.”
He went back out into the hall. Darrin’s body lay on the floor in a dark pool of his own blood. Jens was still crouched over him, injecting him with medi-gel, checking his vitals and hoping for a miracle. One glance at the body was enough for Kai Leng to know the medic was wasting his time.
Making his way into the kitchen, he began a quick but thorough search; opening cupboards and pulling out drawers, he found a very large, very sharp carving knife. Picking it up, he hefted the weight. Satisfied, he went back into the bedroom.
“The terminal’s clean,” Shella informed him as he came in. “Must have wiped it before we came in.”
Kai Leng frowned. He had no idea what kind of info had been on Grayson’s system, but it had been important enough for him to spend time getting rid of it even while his apartment was under attack.
“Found this under the bed,” one of the others chimed in, holding up a cellophane-wrapped package about the size of a brick. “Four more here, too. Looks like red sand.”
They’d finally caught a break. He knew Aria was involved in a drug war with a rival gang; with any luck, she’d think they were behind Grayson’s disappearance.
“Take the sand with us. Any weapons?”
“Just the one they used to shoot Darrin.”
“How bad is he …?” Shella asked, her voice trailing off.
Kai Leng simply shook his head as he crossed the room toward the bed. A shadow passed over Shella’s face, but she didn’t show any other emotion.
Standing over the naked asari’s body, he drew the knife quickly across her throat. The cut was clean and deep. A river of blood ran down her neck and soaked into the sheets, the same dark color as the human blood pooling in the hall.
“Two of you grab Grayson, two more grab Darrin,” he said, reaching around to slide the knife into the back of his pants, then untucking his shirt to hide the protruding handle. “Let’s go.”
The attack and search had taken less than ten minutes in total. Kai Leng was impressed with his team’s efficiency, though in this case it wasn’t really necessary.
Residents of the other apartments inside the building had probably heard the sounds of gunfire. But none of them were likely to get involved; people on Omega tended to mind their own business. Even if someone did want to report the incident, there was no one to contact. Omega had no police force, and the guards at the entrance gate a few blocks away wouldn’t leave their post; they were paid to keep unauthorized people out of the district, not maintain order inside. News of the battle would reach Aria’s ears eventually, probably even before morning. He hoped to be long gone by then.
Only one problem remained: getting Grayson’s unconscious form, Darrin’s still warm body, and eight kilos of red sand past the Omega First Security guards at the district gate.
He led the team through the winding streets, back the way they had come. They were fortunate enough not to run into anyone else. As they reached the last corner before the guard station, Kai Leng brought his crew to a halt. He extended his hand and Shella slipped Grayson’s pistol into his palm. He registered with some disgust the fact that it was a turian-designed Elanus model before tucking it away under his shirt beside the knife. He could feel the two handles — blade and gun — pressing against the small of his back.
“Wait here, but be ready to move.”
Taking a moment to focus his mind and body, he rounded the corner alone, moving with an easy but determined pace.
The turians noticed him as he drew near, but they didn’t draw their weapons or seem alarmed in any way.
“What’s the matter?” one of them taunted. “Get kicked out of the party?”
“Forgot something,” he muttered, still moving toward them.
He was ten meters away — easily close enough to deliver an accurate kill shot. But the guards were wearing combat suits; their kinetic barriers would easily deflect a round from this far. He had to get up close and personal for either of his weapons to be effective.
“If you leave the district, it’ll cost you to get back in,” the other warned.
He didn’t bother to answer. Five meters. Just a few more steps and it would all be over. He was close enough to read the expressions on their avian features; he recognized the exact moment they realized he was a threat.
Had either of them taken a few quick steps back while he reached for his weapon, he wouldn’t have stood a chance. Fortunately, they both held their ground.
Moving with blinding speed, Kai Leng lunged toward them, his left hand reaching back to grasp the knife in his belt as he closed the gap. He whipped the blade out and drove the tip into the throat of the nearest guard. Twisting his wrist as it penetrated the leathery skin, he severed both the trachea and the turian equivalent of the carotid artery.
The second turian had his gun drawn, but as he extended his arm to shoot, Kai Leng slapped it down with his free hand, causing the weapon to discharge into the floor at their feet. He let go of the knife and went for his own pistol. In a blur of motion he yanked the gun from his belt, brought his hand back in front of his body, jammed the nozzle against the turian’s temple, and squeezed the trigger.
There was a wet pop as the back of the turian’s head exploded, spewing bits of skull and gray matter out the opposite side. Kai Leng was staring into his enemy’s eyes at the moment of death; he saw the pupils dilate as the synapses from what was left of the brain ceased firing and the turian slumped to the floor.
Kai Leng turned his attention back to the first guard. He was down but still twitching, his hands feebly pawing at the knife jutting out from his larynx. Kai Leng stepped forward and finished him off in the same way as he had his partner: one close-range shot through the head.
Looking back, he saw his team was already moving, doing their best to run while carrying Grayson and Darrin. He didn’t see anyone else; if there had been any witnesses, they were smart enough to make themselves scarce.
Moving at a quick jog and switching off the burden of the bodies every few blocks, the six of them made it to the spaceport in under ten minutes. Five minutes after that, they were aboard the ship and safely off the station.
Only then did Kai Leng allow a satisfied smile to cross his face.
“Call the Illusive Man,” he said to Shella. “Tell him Grayson’s coming home.”