Secret War: Warhammer 40,000, Ben Agar [list of ebook readers .txt] 📗
- Author: Ben Agar
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After what seemed to be forever, the elevator finally found the fifth floor, and I stepped out the double doors.
"You're late," said Hayden Tresch; he was a big man, standing well over two metres and built like an Astartes. Like Torris, he was once an Arbitrator. Still, unlike Torris, his demeanour was one which I could imagine an Arbitrator possessing, a no-nonsense professional attitude and a ruthless one at that.
How he had left the Arbites to become an assassin working under Glaitis, I had no idea, but I knew that he had been with Glaitis straight from the very start and was the oldest in our organisation.
From what I knew, he was at least a decade older than my erstwhile mentor, and ironically for a person of such large stature, he was a sniper and the best I have ever seen. I could only assume that such a stony resolve would be a great contributor to that line of work as quite a few snipers I have met and a few I have killed seem to adhere to this temperament.
He was also a very skilled hacker but was nothing compared to Vex.
I winced, just remembering that I had yet to see the kid to apologise.
I liked Hayden. I could not help but respect his hardline attitude, but he had a softer side which he let reign from time to time; he reminded me of Garrakson, a version of Garrakson, which was a whole lot grimmer and harder anyway.
The other waiting in the hallway made me frown and furrow my brow; it was Darrance who sneered in contempt when he saw me, and sometimes I could swear he looked more feminine than many actual women I knew.
"Why, it's good to see you to Hayden," I said.
The ex Arbiter smiled ever so slightly, but Darrance sniffed loudly, then his attention snapped straight at me, his face as hard as a stone.
"You've been smoking," he stated.
I sighed; Darrance must have been in love with Glaitis or something as he followed her every order to the letter and will reinforce this with an almost fanatism, which is ironic as Tresch would allow for far more leeway, and he was an ex Arbitrator.
"The mistress has a strict policy against the smoking of Lho, for which everyone must adhere!"
Now it was Tresch's turn to sigh. "Give the kid a break, Darrance; after what he went through, I think he is entitled to it just this once, but Attelus, just make sure none of us actually catch you do it or else-"
"Or else you will have no choice but to bring it to Glaitis' knowledge," I finished. "Fair enough, and thank you for the leeway."
Although, in all likelihood, Glaitis knew well of my recently resurfaced habit.
In that instance, I could not help wonder if anyone else working for Glaitis knew of her ally, which I did indeed doubt it, but out of all of us, Hayden would. As I stated earlier, he was the most longest serving in our organisation. Also, how long precisely has she been allied with the Xenos anyway?
I pushed away these thoughts; there would be time to dwell on them later.
"So Glaitis said for me to come here for briefing."
"That is 'mamzel' Glaitis to you, apprentice," said Darrance. "And yes, we are here to brief you. Let us get this farce over and done with, shall we? We have an interesting development from the Twilight Bar incident that the mistress thinks you may find interesting. However, I do not know what you could ever possibly attribute is beyond me."
My jaw set ever so slightly. "And what is this 'development' exactly?" I asked.
"That is exactly what it is, apprentice," said Darrance. "A development. No more, no less you will see what it is soon enough."
"Wouldn't it be better to be briefed on what it is I am about to see before being shown it?" I pointed out.
Darrance raised his finger, about to argue but was interrupted by Tresch as he chuckled.
"Yes, Glaitis mentioned that we are to 'brief' you didn't she?" he said. "Let's just say we want it to be a surprise, okay?"
"Actually, she said that just you were just to brief me, without Darrance."
Darrance sneered at the slight but did nothing more.
Tresch shook his head. "Alright enough, smart mouthing from you, kid, I'm not sure I can stop Darrance if he decides to try slice you to ribbons; let's move on, kid."
We walked on, through the thin, poorly lit corridors Tresch in the middle, Darrance and me on his left and right flanks.
"Attelus, so how much of your one-man storm of the Twilight Bar do you remember exactly?" asked Tresch lightly.
"I remember most of it, except what happened after the Arco-flagellant charged me; everything after that is a complete blank."
"And so," said Darrance. "Then you remember that it was your own stupidity that led to your horrific injury, that mistress Glaitis' is your master that she has far more experience and intelligence than you will ever have, do not disobey her again for she always knows what to do, she has never lead us astray."
I sighed; as much as I hated to admit it, Darrance had a point, but he had no idea just how true his words were. It was then that I couldn't help wonder; some people worshipped the Emperor, some people worship the Ruinous powers, some people worshipped money; I suspected that Darrance adored Glaitis, oh if only he knew the truth if he knew what I knew.
Finally, we reached the corridors' end; two guards stood on sentry at both ex-Imperial guard veterans, both under Glaitis employment. Our organisation may revolve around assassins, but we had a small contingent of just over five hundred mercenaries for basic sentry work.
Both the poor bastards looked bored out of their skulls, but if anything, Glaitis paid them well, and it was an easy job so they wouldn't complain.
They nodded respectfully to Tresch; then, one opened the door for us.
We walked into a small room, the walls metallic and reinforced like a holding cell and through a panel of single-sided glass, I could see a slightly larger room; Castella stood with her back to us as she stared intently into the other room.
She looked over her shoulder and treated us with a smile.
"Good to see you're up, Attelus," she said.
I nodded and smiled back about to reply but cut myself short as I saw what the other room contained; One man sat alone tied up to a chair; he was haggard, old and beaten to a bloody pulp.
I approached the window, gaping shock; the wounds were brutal and would scare him for life, the torture this poor man had been through I could not imagine.
"You don't recognise him?" asked Tresch as he stepped up beside me.
"No," I said softly. "Should I?"
"He was the one you fought in the Twilight bar," said Castella. "He was wearing a full-face helmet, so I don't blame you for not knowing."
I turned to her, my eyes wide with shock at the razor-sharp edge in her voice and almost immediately, her attention went straight to the floor.
"Even if he hadn't worn a helmet, I doubt that I could recognise him now. How? How did you capture him?"
"He attempted to escape through a secret passage in the bar," said Darrance. "Mistress Glaitis herself was waiting outside and accosted him there; she revealed that she knew of the exit from the schematics but chose to keep it a secret."
Well, I knew that there could be yet another reason how she knew, but I kept such thoughts to myself.
"It's obvious now that mamzel Glaitis wasn't intending at all for us to plant the bugs," I said. "That it was a ploy so she could capture this man."
But that wasn't just it. I was utterly sure, and I suspected it would in some way or another coincide with the absence of Barhurst.
"Good deduction Attelus," said Castella. "We have made the same conclusion also."
I smiled, savouring the compliment.
"But one thing I don't understand is if the infiltration of this bar was extracurricular, away from Taryst's devices, why are we still under his employment?" I said. "Wouldn't he have been pissed that we went behind his back?"
Darrance shrugged. "Maybe the mistress had actually informed master Taryst of it and told us otherwise; we are assassins; we are only told no more than what we need to know."
"Hmmm," was my only reply as I placed my finger and thumb onto my chin in thought; it was a valid point and one that I have considered, but somehow I doubted it, and again my thoughts reeled back to the coincidental pre-ordained absence of colonel Barhurst.
One thing that was also interesting as to why I was shown this I did not know if I still had the implant in my brain or not; perhaps the psyker which Glaitis had brought in to heal me also got rid of it, but surely his psykers would have noticed that? Perhaps it was still there, and this was because of a new, more open alliance between the two? Or it could be as Darrance said that Glaitis had actually informed Taryst of our espionage of the club, and they were in a more open alliance than they had insinuated right from the start?
"So you want me to talk to this man?" I asked, deciding not to reveal my thoughts to my colleagues, not yet anyway.
"Yes," said Tresch. "We've been talking to him over the past month but has yet to reveal any reliable information, and as you well know, we are sure he is a Throne agent of some form, so his mind will be blocked from any psychic intrusion. "
"We also never revealed anything on your condition to him," said Castella. "I bet that he will be shocked to see you up and about."
I could not help grinning at that.
"Alright, send me in," I said.
I stepped into the interrogation room, and as I closed the door, the man suddenly started, spluttering into consciousness so abruptly it made me flinch in fright.
His back was facing me, and he attempted to turn his head to try to see who had entered.
"What the hell is it now?" growled the man, his voice horrifically horse but whistled slightly due to a severely broken nose. "Is that teal haired bitch come back to beat on me again?"
I was approaching him as he said this, but the words causing me to stop in mid-stride although I couldn't see the three assassins standing watch, I turned to face the one-way glass anyway my eyes wide jaw hung open, expressing the deep shock I felt.
Castella did all this? She was the one who had beaten this man so brutally?
That would have been something that I would expect from Darrance and even Tresch, but Castella?
Perhaps my disbelief in her claim of me saving all those people in the Twilight bar was inherently justified. Perhaps she wasn't at all who I thought she was; I have seen some gruesome things in my very short life, but what they did to this throne agent was hard for even me to stomach.
Tearing my attention back to the brutalised man, I felt something I would not have expected to feel.
I felt truly and utterly sorry for him; I had expected to be angry, to hate the person who had ruthlessly let loose the Arco Flagellant to slaughter me and to cover his escape, but in all honesty, I could understand it. He had a mission to complete, although one I did not know and if the stakes whereas high as he seemed to believe them to be, once again, it came
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