Page 97 of Throwing Fire

“Who’d you report to in Jielt? I want a word with whomever green-lighted this fuck-up.”

“B, sir.”

The name sparks a memory. A man who shook my hand too hard, too long at the Gold Ball-Ball.

“Right. I’m going to have a word with B. You hang tight. I’m going to negotiate you out of here, but I’m gonna need some time.” To figure out what the fuck this all means. “You need anything?”

“A flash can, sir.”

Yeah, I bet his bowels are a little loose. “I’ll make sure you have what you need.”

His shoulders sag. He leans back against the stone wall behind him, slides down it, and folds himself onto the floor.

I turn away from the security membrane and walk back into Acker’s laser stare.

“Not here,” I tell him as I approach.

I don’t know how this is going to go, but I don’t want to do it in front of his guard. And I want to give Acker a few moments to start thinking instead of reacting.

“Follow me,” Acker growls.

I follow him up two levels and into the room where we stored my gear. At least if he comes at me now, I’ve got plenty of weapons to choose from. I center myself and wait. The trick to dealing with Acker is not to get defensive. Act guilty and his paranoia escalates into aggression. Probably true of me, too.

Acker paces around the small room, the fur of his shoulders rippling. I let him pace. Finally, I say, “Let’s hear it.”

He turns and snarls. “You funded the attacks on my people.”

“Looks that way.”

He stops and glares at me, fur bristling, nostrils flaring as he drags deep breaths into his lungs.

“Will hittin’ me make you feel better?” I ask.

“No. But killing you and Lightfoot might appease the families of the dead.” He clenches his fists at hissides.

“Do what you gotta do.”

He knows I’m not going to let him hurt either of us. What I will let him do is blow off steam.

He flexes his claws. “I need to understand this.”

“Me, too. Best I can figure is that Tyng was fundin’ the Ojos. But I got no idea why. Tyng himself wasn’t a Mod, but there’s nothin’ in the files that suggests he was anti-Mod, either. Company employs plenty of Mods, right up to the highest levels.”

Acker touches his claws to his face, runs his hands through his mane until it spikes wildly around his head. “Then why fund the Ojos?”

I shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“The Crystal Snake has long desired to move his poison through our tunnels. If the Ojos succeeded in annihilating my people, there would be no impediment.”

“Yeah. I can see how that woulda been Kimpler’s plan. But it wasn’t Tyng’s. He sent his son to Kuus to negotiate with the Pack. If he was anti-Mod, he wouldn’t have sent his kid in there.”

Acker nods. “Yes. I see that.”

Good, he’s thinking again. “I can’t figure why Tyng would fund the Ojos. But now I got a name.”

“B.” Acker shrugs. “Not much of a name.”

“Yeah, but I know who he is.” I don’t remember his title, but I remember the name well enough. “An’ I know where he is. Jielt.”

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