Page 14 of Omega Untamed
I flashed my pin-light ahead of me to show my path. The stairwells were open and clear as I made my way to the third floor. I was happy to get to the bathroom without being accosted by a single rat.
The toilet tank in the corner cubicle had long since dried, but I kept my stuff in a plastic bag just in case the water came back on for some unknown reason. Just in case.
Lifting the lid, I took out the bag and walked into the office next door where there was still a viable desk chair with a stained cushion, useful to no one but ghosts—and me—and sat, pin-light in my mouth, to go through my things.
I set the black billfold containing petty cash of a few grand aside. I had a keychain with a little yellow plastic fawn on it with big eyelashes painted around its eyes. Completely innocuous as a child’s toy if ever found, but it contained a key to a storage shed on the far side of the city where I kept a few boxes of personal items from my past, as well as the first car I’d ever owned that was no longer running: a black Cobra Mustang.
Setting that aside, I brought out a flat silk bag with a drawstring on top. I untied it and slipped the cell phone into my palm. It was an old style phone with a flip screen.
From my pocket, I brought out my portable charger and plug, and attached it to the phone. Immediately, it lit up. I took the pin-light out of my mouth and set it on the floor. Then, I tapped in a number I knew by heart.
A voice on the other end said, “Hey.”
“A heads up about Dill and Guff would have been nice,” I said.
“You’re impossible to contact.”
“Myre’s brought in a street Omega to torture and blame for the arrests.”
“Yeah, well.”
“Well? That’s all you have to say?” I asked.
Sam, my contact on the force never went into the field, so it was hard for him to understand that real people were involved in his decisions, and not simply names and statistics.
I huffed into the phone. “He’s innocent. Sure, the Omega talks a lot, but I’m the one who gave you the tip and the evidence on those two trouble-makers. You’re responsible for that Omega’s life now.”
“What? What do you care about a silly street Omega? This is bigger than all that, and you know, after all these years, there’re always casualties.”
“Yeah. Acceptable losses. Only, he’s friendly with some of your staff and he’s going to give Myre their names if he hasn’t already.”
“You told me yourself, Myre doesn’t kill cops. Brings on too much heat. If there’s a more imminent danger, contact us then.”
“That’s it? You’re not going to do anything?”
“What’s the Omega’s name?” Sam asked.
“Kee. I don’t know his last name.”
“I’ll make sure a memo goes out that no one is to deal with a boy named Kee ever again.”
“You won’t have to write that memo. He’ll be dead before it’s read.”
A pause. A bit of soft breathing. “Problem solved,” came the slow response.
“You’re a dick, you know that.” It was not a question.
“What would you have me do that doesn’t put you or this operation in jeopardy of being discovered?” Sam asked.
“I’ll think on it.”
“Oh no you don’t. Bast, you’re not going to do a thing. Don’t say anything. Don’t do anything. Don’t lift a finger. You’ll compromise everything.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean it. That’s an order, Sebastian.”
When I did not reply, Sam said, “You heard me, right?”
