The Street Survivors (The Guild Wars Book 12) Ian Malone (the false prince series txt) 📖

you back home who felt it after Tony’s death. These were people who cared about you, Paulie, who wanted to stand with you in your time of need. And how did you repay their loyalty, huh? By slippin’ out of town in the dead of night like a little bitch to throw in with these clowns in Hicktown, USA.”

Torrio muttered a curse. “Like you’re one to lecture me about runnin’.”

“Think whatever you want,” Genovese said flatly. “At the end of the day, it’s a dog-eat-dog Union out there, boys, and credits are all that matters. Hell, you’re mercs for cryin’ out loud. If you haven’t figured that out by now, you’re all in the wrong damn business.”

Torrio’s cheeks flashed red as he took a step forward. “You’ll burn in hell for this, Mike. I swear it on Tony’s grave. I’ll kill you for doing this to me.”

“See, that right there is your problem, Paulie,” Genovese said as two wasps caught his flanks. “You always think everything is about you, even when it’s not.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Paulie snarled.

“Newsflash, paisano. You were never the target. None of you were.” Genovese pointed to Taylor. “He was.”

* * * * *

Chapter 16: Forgotten Histories

“What?” Taylor blinked. “Why me?”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll find that out soon enough.” Genovese looked up when a chime sounded from the KzSha’s slate.

“Transfer complete,” the wasp said.

Genovese fished a slate from his vest to confirm the transaction. “And so it is. I presume you’ve made arrangements to get me offworld?”

“We have,” the Sumatozou said. “We’ve contracted with a Dutya freighter to take you across the system to Newtep. You can make your own way from there.”

Taylor thought of the Osyrys. Keep your head down, Ruiz.

“Sounds like a plan.” Genovese pocketed his device and turned to go. “It’s been fun, gents. It really has. Alas, to borrow a line from one of those old songs I heard at the Hell House, it’s time for me to fly.”

Taylor chewed his lip as the captain turned to go. “So what now? Back to Queens to reclaim your family’s mob legacy?”

“Screw that.” Genovese snorted. “I meant what I said back in your galley. I’ve seen where that life leads, and I want zero part of it. Nope. By this time next month, I’ll be layin’ on a beach in the Pacific Ocean with an umbrella drink in one hand, and a Tahitian beauty half my age in the other, earning 20 percent. And all because of southern hospitality.” The River Hawks’ XO smiled and tipped a goodbye wave. “Ciao, fellas. I’ll see ya in the next life.”

Taylor watched as Genovese vanished into the cavern, then was gone in the crowd.

“I’ve waited a long time for this moment, Chief Van Zant,” the Sumatozou said. “A very, very long time.”

Something in the alien’s tone didn’t sit right in Taylor’s gut. “You seem to know a lot about me. Given that the Hawks’ XO there has been on Earth or with us this whole time, I take it I have Haju to thank for that?”

“Not at all,” the Sumatozou said. “In point of fact, it was only recently brought to my attention that Master Haju presided over Earth’s stargate. I did press him for information, of course. However, his allegiance to the Cartography Guild superseded his desire to speak, despite our best efforts at persuading him to do so.”

Taylor recalled the myriad scars and lacerations on Haju’s face. So much for loyalty to one’s own kind. He shifted his stance. “Okay, fine. How do you know me, then, if not through Haju or Genovese?”

The Sumatozou crossed his arms as if weighing his answer. “All in good time, Chief Van Zant. All in good time. First, allow me to introduce myself.” He bowed his head. “My name is Akoya Vello. I serve as the senior site director overseeing production at this facility.”

“Sounds important.” Taylor noted the lack of an ownership reference in the alien’s title. “How does a Sumatozou come to be named director over a minin’ outfit with this large a work force?”

“Sumatozou oversee the daily operation of stargates for entire regions throughout the Galactic Union,” Akoya said. “I’d think managing a single mine, therefore, would seem like child’s play by comparison.”

“That may be so,” Taylor said. “Difference is, you can hole up in your office on a stargate and conduct your affairs in complete isolation. Based on what I’ve seen so far of this place, that’s not a luxury you get to enjoy out here. Takin’ the lead over any project requires people skills, and let’s face it. That ain’t exactly a strong suit for your species.”

“A valid point.” Akoya chuckled. “Fortunately for me, my benefactors require neither social skills nor extensive face-to-face interaction for my role in this operation. Only efficiency, performance, and results.”

So he does work for somebody else.

“As for labor issues,” Akoya continued, “I leave those to the KzSha, since procuring and maintaining our work force falls under their purview.”

Taylor nodded. “I take it the KzSha work for your benefactors, too, then?”

“They do not,” Akoya said. “The wasps work for me directly. Think of them as subcontractors tasked with recruiting laborers for our cause.”

“Subcontractors, huh.” Taylor stifled a snort at the euphemism. “I’d wager help of that sort costs a pretty penny to retain.”

“Not at all,” Akoya said. “On the contrary, the KzSha work for me free of charge.”

Taylor wrinkled his nose.

“It’s true,” Akoya said. “Not all the KzSha’s culling efforts are meant for this facility. Some are, naturally. Others are meant for different clients with other interests in other parts of the Union. It is those transactions which earn the wasps their profits.”

Taylor cocked his head. “Then what do they need you for?”

Akoya paused for another moment of contemplation.