Betrayal. It left a nasty bitter taste in the mouth. Garik eyed the man he’d trusted, a peer he’d called friend in as much as he’d considered anyone a friend.
“Put the plasti-cuffs on him,” another man with them said.
Garik didn’t struggle as his captors jerked his arms forward and locked him in skin pinching restraints.
“Too easy,” the infamous Lord Maurin Cressler sneered
Garik didn’t rise to the verbal taunt from the target he’d been assigned to take out. Rumors and records proved Maurin had bought the moon station, Quantoon, cheap because no one else had wanted the abandoned place. He’d purchased it with illegal credits he’d made running a surprisingly successful smuggling enterprise. The Dragonian had turned the station into a haven for his criminal minded crew amongst others and considered himself a ruler of some sort. It was one of many reasons the Assassin’s Guild had sent Garik.
His attention wasn’t focused on Maurin right now though. Vengeance was running through his mind for fellow assassin and peer or former peer, Dedrin. Dedrin and Garik were both members of the Galactic Assassins Guild and sworn to eliminate the targets presented by their organization. Targets who were usually identified as acting outside the legal jurisdiction of the Alliance.
“Nothing to say?” Maurin goaded from a far enough distance Garik couldn’t touch him.
Dedrin, however, was a step—two at the most from Garik—and his arrogant smirk drove another spike of rage through Garik. He’d trusted Dedrin. Or rather, he’d trusted that Dedrin’s call was legitimate.
Garik was ruthless and known for his killer instincts and ability to never fail when he was sent on a mission. He collected favors like some men collected credits. For Garik, having people owe him was much more valuable than monetary accumulation and gave him leverage over them for future use.
Usually, Garik completed his assignments alone. He’d earned his reputation as assazi, an assassin who didn’t work with others. There were the rare cases where Garik would reach out to another from the Guild. Usually a fellow assazi interested in a short term partnership. In this instance, Garik had contacted Dedrin to assist in the takedown of Maurin.
It should have been simple and easy once they got through Maurin’s extensive and pretty damn good security. Instead, Dedrin had revealed Garik’s plan to the target, lied and led Garik into a trap. One which found him now captured.
“Yes, Garik. What do you have to say now?” Dedrin asked with an arch of his blond brow.
“Was it worth it?” Garik countered, tipping his head to the side in genuine interest.
Dedrin snorted and smoothed back his already slicked down hair. His tan cheeks creased from his smug smile. “Yes. I would have done it without the incentive of the credits I received. You with your better than everyone attitude, your ace ratings and ninety-five percent successful completion. The Master of the Guild can’t help boasting to the rest of us on how we should seek to emulate your skill level.”
That was new. Garik had no idea the Master spoke of him so well. Huh. Guess this wasn’t a simple matter of betrayal for credits as he’d initially assumed. This was jealousy. Pure, petty jealousy. He and Dedrin had finished in the same training cycle, which meant he could have achieved similar status in the same time frame.
Garik nodded and adjusted his stance to brace his legs. “I can see how this would have been a problem for you since you’ve been reprimanded twice for poor performance and a third time will see your position in the Guild demoted.”
It wasn’t that Dedrin was a bad assassin. It was just that he was overzealous in his efforts and the nature of their roles required one to be adept at patience, planning and cunning. They were to be invisible in handling their tasks above all else.
Aggression and belligerence accomplished nothing except mistakes. Mistakes that could lead to a quick and painful death. The Guild invested too much money in their training to ignore dangerous behavior.
The fact that Dedrin had completed the academy training at the Guild meant he wasn’t a complete and utter fuck up. On the contrary, when partnered with a more adept assassin, he was exemplary.
The problem came about on solo missions. Ego, it seemed, couldn’t be beat out of him and Dedrin allowed his pride to jeopardize his success at eliminating targets time and time again requiring other senior-level assassins to come in to finish or fix his mess. That usually increased the risks for whoever was chosen to step in because the target would be alert and aware at that point.
Not everyone was fit to kill on command without question and do it well. Unlike Garik. He’d been with the Guild for over a decade and thrived in a culture that required nothing from him but his best. He didn’t have friends, he had debts owed. At any given time, he could call in the debts of over a dozen assassins and they would flock to his side in haste to repay them.
“Well, good to know the why of it all. It won’t be a great loss when I end you.”
Killing, Garik thought, was always going to be in his blood.
Dedrin’s tan featured darkened to an ugly shade of red at Garik’s dismissive words. “What did you say?”
Garik didn’t repeat himself. He wasn’t interested in a verbal sparring session with the man. Plus, Maurin was watching them with an inexplicable level of interest Garik didn’t like. He would watch what he said until he figured out a way to get free.
Dedrin clenched his teeth and a muscle flexed in his jaw. Hands fisted at his side, he took a step forward, close enough to sneer in Garik’s face. “What did you say, Denikon?”
Maurin’s eyes brightened with sudden knowledge. Garik cursed Dedrin under his breath. It wasn’t likely that the former smuggler hadn’t heard of him. Now Maurin was certain of who he had in his custody if there had ever been a moment of doubt. The smile slowly stretching over Maurin’s golden lips had Garik gritting his teeth.
Ignoring Dedrin and speaking over his shoulder directly to Maurin, Garik asked, “I don’t suppose you’re going to miss him, are you?”
Maurin’s chuckle burst out loud and boisterous, causing the handful of men around them to glance around in nervous anticipation. Dedrin’s brows creased and Garik blocked a momentary twinge of regret. Regret had no place here. He slammed his head forward, colliding with Dedrin’s. Garik looped his restrained hands about Dedrin’s neck, cutting off his gasp then gave it a sharp twist.
It was a skill he’d perfected through the years and he stepped back instantly as Dedrin’s lifeless body dropped to the floor, eyes wide in his last moments of shock.
Mirth cut off short, Maurin grimaced and swiped a hand over his scaled face, a testament to his Dragonian ancestry. “I was hoping you’d do more. That was too quick for even my taste. I wanted to see a glimpse of your fighting skills, Garik Denikon.”
Garik shrugged. “Didn’t seem sporting as he was a peer.”
Maurin’s brows arched high and his yellow eyes flashed to blue then yellow again. “He betrayed you and still, you would honor him with a painless death.”
Statement or question. Garik couldn’t tell the difference. He let his shoulders fall lax in a feigned casual pose and contemplated taking on the three men Maurin had with him. Risk and analysis. Two were bulky across the shoulders and chest but had soft middles. The third had eerie black eyes and watched Garik’s every move.