“You’ve learned how to use all this stuff?” Hilo asked.
Hejo’s tech expert, one of three that specialized in outfitting the clan’s White Rats, said, “They’re all pretty straightforward. They can be easily discarded if necessary, and except for the jade, none of it can be traced back to No Peak. Once you get to any new location, use the credit cards we gave you at any bank or ATM, or call one of the contact numbers. We’ll know immediately where you are. If you’re caught, we have solid cover stories in place to prove that you’re being paid to gather information by investigative journalists working for the Janloon Daily.”
Hilo said to the three men, “Don’t worry. You’re infiltrating an Espenian company, not the Mountain clan. If you get caught, they won’t kill you. They probably won’t even cripple you or beat you badly. They’ll only fire you and sue you, and that’s no problem, we can handle that. You’ll be fine so long as you don’t act suspicious or tell any outright lies. Sunto’s Perception isn’t anything like Vin’s.”
Sim asked uneasily, “Won’t he be worried about White Rats?”
The Pillar made a face. “Sunto’s convinced that Green Bones are eager to flee the clans to join his company. After the talk we had in his office on Euman Island, he expects me to whisper his name and for any attack from No Peak to come from head-on. After you’re gone, you’ll all be officially condemned by the clan as shameful traitors. Remember that your families will know the truth. Send us whatever information you can, but the main thing is that you watch Niko.” His nephew was a godsdamned fool, but there was no way under Heaven that Hilo was going to lose him in some stupid foreign war. “So long as my son is alive and well, and you’re sending us whatever information you can, the money will keep going to your families.” More money than GSI was paying, and more importantly, things that GSI could not provide: loan forgiveness for Dasho’s parents, college for Teije’s sister, an expedited heart transplant for Sim’s niece.
Lott said, “Do you all understand what’s being asked of you? If so, kneel and pledge your word to the Pillar.”
Together, the three men lowered themselves to the carpet of the hotel room and raised their clasped hands to Hilo in salute.
CHAPTER
38
We’ve Got to Do Something
Bero snuck back into Janloon like a cat to a dumpster—quietly and hungrily. Nearly six years had passed since the Espenians had yanked him out of the city overnight. Six years! Time that seemed to have magically disappeared. Galo and Berglund had arranged for him to be relocated, not to the ROE, but to Iwansa, an Espenian territory at the southern end of the Uwiwan archipelago. Bero hadn’t even known that the Espenians owned a tiny island in the Uwiwas, an unpleasantly dry and mind-deadening place catering to Espenian tourists.
The Espenians had given him a new identity and a one-room apartment. Bero hadn’t been stupid and blown all the crisp Espenian thalirs he’d made from his years as an informant by living lavishly and drawing attention to himself in Janloon, so he had enough money to last a long time in the Uwiwas, where everything was cheap.
The main problem was that he hated Iwansa. No one spoke Kekonese. Bero didn’t know any Uwiwan so he had to get by with the bits of Espenian he picked up. The local food was all bland mush wrapped in palm leaves, shit like that. He made some money by hanging around the place where the cruise ships docked and finding Kekonese or Espenian tourists who would pay him to drive them around.
There was nothing to do. All he wanted was to go back to Kekon, but the final thing his Espenian military handlers had done was warn him against doing so. He couldn’t shake the unsettling memory of the black-clad ROE operatives taking down Molovni and carrying him out of the apartment with a hood over his head. A year after the Janloon bombing, Bero heard the news about an Ygutanian defector named Agent M who gave up all the secrets of the nekolva program to the ROE military. It had to be Molovni, but the Vastik eya Molovni that Bero knew had tried to put a bullet in his own head rather than be captured. Bero could only imagine what the Espenians had done to the man to turn him into their meek tool. What might they do to Bero if they thought he was going to run?
Eventually, however, they stopped paying attention to him. Bero stopped receiving the occasional discomfiting phone calls from ROE government representatives checking up on him. Perhaps with the Slow War moving in some other direction, what Bero did or didn’t know was no longer of any interest or concern. Or Galo and Berglund simply forgot about him. Bero still despised Iwansa but he had to admit he’d become accustomed to it. What danger would he be putting himself in if he went back to Kekon?