The Black Sun Conspiracy

Chapter Fifty-Four

Renata sat shattered, trying to mask her confusion but not quite succeeding. “I… I can’t be deposed that easily,” she insisted, hanging on to her authority as a drowning man might grasp at a rope. “I can’t, there are procedures…”

‘Is he telling the truth?’ Sam wondered. ‘Is this a ruse, or have we genuinely been part of some kind of plot to bring Renata down? It wouldn’t surprise me, but what’s Alexandr’s role in all of this? I thought he was more of a free agent, I wouldn’t have imagined him being caught up in the politics of something like this.’

“If you think I am lying, let us wait and see whether your guards answer your call,” Alexandr shrugged. “Should they not have come running when they heard the second gunshot? Or if they had been watching the screens, they would have burst through the door the moment Sam here acquired the gun. They did neither of these things because they are no longer under your orders. The members of the Council are on their way here. They are on their way to bring you down.”

Her lip curled derisively, but Sam could see that her hands were shaking. “Even if that were true, why would you know? You are nobody.”

“I make myself useful to whoever pays me the most. My task was to make sure that your guards were paid off at the right moment, and to bring you to the place of their choosing. So you must come with me now. All of you.”

Renata threw back her chair and made a dash for the door, but Purdue was on her at once. He caught her by the wrist and yanked her towards him, pulling her arm up her back. He caught her other arm as she tried to lash out at him and pushed her face down onto the long table, hissing curses at him. Ever practical, Alexandr pushed past Sam and Nina to reach Steven Lehmann and strip him of his belt, which he used to fasten Renata’s hands behind her back. Steven gave a weak yell of pain as he was moved.

“So much for all your promises of loyalty!” Renata spat at Purdue. “No honor among thieves after all!”

Purdue pulled her to her feet with Alexandr’s help, keeping a tight hold on the belt. “Mirela, what could I do? Even if I had known… if the Council has made its decision, there is nothing that I or anyone else can do to oppose them. Go to them. Talk to them.”

“I don’t appear to have much choice.” She kicked out at Alexandr, but it was half-hearted. She knew that she could not escape. Alexandr stepped out of the room, going to summon a car from the fleet in the garage hidden deep in the bowels of the building.

At last Nina noticed that her hands were still tightly wrapped around Sam’s arm. She relaxed her grip. Her fingers were numb. As she shook them out to get the circulation going again, she looked down at Steven. Under normal circumstances she would have rushed to help him, even despite their past relationship and his recent violence towards her. But this time… “Sam,” she said softly, “I think this choice has to be yours.”

The crumpled, bleeding man who lay at Sam’s feet would have been a sight to inspire pity, had he been any other man. Sam thought of Steven’s easy bullying of Nina. It was easy to imagine the delight he would have taken in killing Trish. The names he would have called her as her death was planned, the vile speculations about her, the reduction of a brave and talented woman to something less than human. ‘Did you crow about it afterwards’? Sam wondered, watching Steven being consumed by his pain. ‘Of course you did. I bet you thought you were such a big man, shooting an unarmed woman. If you were anyone else I’d be calling you an ambulance right now. But you’re not. You’re the bastard who killed Trish. You’re the reason…’ He could not complete the thought. The gun was back in his hand before he even realized it.

“Sam!” Nina stepped in front of him as he moved towards Steven, blocking his way. She touched his face lightly, scanning it as if trying to read his thoughts. “I’m not going to tell you not to do it, Sam. Just… do what she would have wanted you to do?” She let go, stepped back, and vanished at once from Sam’s reasoning.

Steven’s wound was grave, but it was bleeding slowly. If left unattended for a long enough time he would certainly bleed to death. It would be painful, and it would not be quick. Sam was no great judge of gunshot wounds, but it looked serious enough to kill the man even if someone were to get him medical help. The most merciful thing to do, Sam knew, would be to give him a swift end. A bullet in his head would be a kindness. It could spare him hours of suffering.

‘And if he had spared Trish the bullet in her head,’ Sam reasoned, ‘she would still be alive, I wouldn’t be here, and he might not have got himself shot in the first place. Would she want me to help him?’ He remembered how soft-hearted Trish could be, to the point where it caused her to struggle with some of the decisions her work required. Even as she had prepared to bring down Charles Whitsun, Sam had heard her express sympathy for him — not so much for the man he had become, but for the strictly brought-up child he had been and the potential he might have had if his father had not chosen his path for him from the moment he was born. Trish would have tried to save him. Sam was certain of that. If she could not, she would have put him out of his misery.

But there were some things Sam could not bring himself to do. Not even for Trish. Carefully he laid the gun down within Steven’s reach. It might pain him a little to stretch for it, but at least mercy would be within his grasp. “The choice is yours, pal,” he muttered as he bent down. “Best you’re getting from me.”

He straightened up. Alexandr had returned and was helping Purdue to maneuver Renata out of the room. Sam took Nina’s outstretched hand and followed, leaving Steven Lehmann to decide his own fate.