Secret War: Warhammer 40,000 by Ben Agar (romantic novels to read .TXT) 📕

down to the saying "anything and everything to win." He, too, was a professional like me, but there was one huge difference between us; he was doing a job which, in his view, was right and true. I am not, yet now here he was, trapped, beaten and unable to do what he needed to.

I could not help but wonder how he felt; it seemed that so much hung the balance for him was he not just defiant outwardly but actually genuinely? Or perhaps he was actually terrified and depressed? Scared that his capture would invariably lead to his mission to fail?

This I wondered because in all my life I had never known real conviction, I worked, and that was that, never did I ever believe in any 'cause' it was the job and only the job to get it done and move on, that this throne agent's world seemed so foreign it almost alien to me.

That was the way of the mercenary, and to be honest, to say that it was quite depressing really is an understatement of breathtaking scale.

"Who's there? Stop hiding whoever the hell you are!" the man yelled, struggling in his bonds.

Without any word, I moved into his field of vision, holding the water flask that Tresh had given me up to the man's face, and he drank from the straw greedily, his eyes too black and swollen to make out who I was.

I was unsure what to say; never before had I actively taken part in any interrogation, a few I have witnessed, but that was all; taking away the flask, I finally said: "I survived, you know."

The man's attention snapped straight up at me as he obviously recognised my voice, but I couldn't make out any expression; then, he shook his head and spat blood out on the floor.

"Well, goody for you," he said bitterly.

I was not so sure if it was actually 'goody for me.'

"I'm sorry for what my colleague did to you," I said.

"Well, your sorry isn't going to affect anything, kid," replied the man. "I know that this is the how the world spins. I'm a professional; I know this is all part of the job."

Then he wheezed out what I could only guess to be a laugh. "Maybe next time, I should try to negotiate my contract."

"That would indeed be wise," I agreed, and I could not help but feel an edge of respect for the old man. "And in all honesty, I am not sure that we will ever wean any information from you; you seem to be a man of conviction that so much so that you would rather die than give us whatever we want."

"You're a smart kid," he said. "But your 'colleagues' don't seem to agree."

I looked sidelong at the one-way glass. "No, I guess they wouldn't."

"Or that or they know it but choose to avoid the fact," said the man.

"Or that," I said. "But can I ask a question?"

The man's nose whistled as he attempted to sniff. "Kid, do I look like I capable of keeping you from asking it? Although I do still hold the ability not to answer, so I am not going to guarantee you will get one."

I paused, not sure how to word it at first.

"W-what is it like?" I could only stammer.

The man sighed. "What is what like, kid?"

"What is it like to, I don't know, to be a person of conviction? What is it like to be a person to believe in something so much that they would willingly die for it?"

What seemed to be incredulity crossed the man's beaten features, "that was the very last question I guessed that you would ask."

"Answer or don't answer," I said impatiently. "As you said, it is still your choice."

"It is," said the man. "And I will answer but on one condition."

"What is it?" I growled.

"Before you said that 'whatever we want' as if you didn't know what I was being interrogated for, is that true?"

I frowned, bemused. "Did I say that?" I shrugged. "Well, it is really 'whatever we want' as I don't know if you are actually Brutis Bones or not, I know that if you weren't, my colleagues would be interrogating you to find out where he is."

"And if I was Brutis Bones?" queried the man.

I smacked my lips, realising that I didn't actually know. "I could hazard a guess," I admitted hesitantly, or thousands I thought sourly. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," said the man lightly. "And now I will answer your question, and the answer is, I really don't know."

"What?"

"Kid, in truth, I have always been this way. I have always believed that the God-Emperor knows what is best for humanity, that in my service to the Holy Inquisition, I can truly aid in that plan, to be this person of "conviction" as you call it is as natural to me as breathing. So asking me that is like me asking you what is it like to inhale oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide."

"Well, that's," I trailed off, scratching my head, "well, that's anticlimactic; who the hell are you anyway?"

"No one of consequence."

"I must know."

"Get used to disappointment."

"Hmm, okay."

"Actually, I lie," said the man. "Because you are a strange one, I will give you information, information that I have so far kept hidden from your associates, and I only give it because you might already know it."

"What is it then?"

"Your boss Taryst holds someone captive, someone of great influence."

I would have asked 'who?' but did not want to give away I didn't know.

The man smiled with gapped teeth and those still in were cracked and loose.

"He holds in that tower of his my superior, my Inquisitor's Interrogator; he has kept her prisoner right from the beginning of this debacle."

I tried to keep my expression neutral and glanced to the reflective glass, then my microbead buzzed, and Tresch's voice came through.

"Attelus, get out here now."

I nodded and moved to leave; then the man asked, "Hey, where are you going, kid?"

"Thank you for the information, No One of Consequence," I said. "But now I have more pressing issues to attend to."

"You really didn't know, did you?" I heard the man say just before I closed the door.

 

 

I stepped into the observation room, my attention to the floor. I sighed and slipped my hands into their pockets.

"Is he actually Brutis Bones?" I asked.

"No," answered Tresch. "We don't believe he is."

"I thought as much," I sighed again. "And Tresch, sir, did you look at the schematics of the Twilight bar when you took them from the local database?"

"No, when mamzel Glaitis ordered me to get them, she also ordered that I could not look directly into the file."

"Hmm right," I looked up and saw both Tresch and Darrance were there to greet me, but Castella was strangely absent.

"Uhm, where did Castella go?"

Both Darrance and Tresch briefly looked sidelong at one another; the glance seemed to be almost nervous.

"She left apprentice," answered Darrance impatiently. "Are we now finished with your line of inquiry yet?"

I looked at them both, bewildered, wondering why they had such a strange reaction about Castella's absence. "N-no, w-what the hell are we to do with this new information?"

"Why, nothing apprentice," said Darrance simply.

"What?" I snapped. "If what he says is true, we could-"

"Taryst is our employer," interrupted Darrance. "While I agree this information is valuable and I have no doubt, this 'No One of Consequence' is telling the truth, you forget that we are still under Taryst's employ, who he holds and doesn't hold captive is his own business and what are we going to make of it? Go up to Taryst in his tower and demand that he confirms this accusation?"

"But!" I tried.

"I agree with Darrance, kid," said Tresch. "This information is something to lean on; we know it, and that is enough for now."

With a sigh and a frown, I said, "yeah, I guess you're right."

"Of course we are right, apprentice," said Darrance. "You seem to forget that we have been in this game a lot longer than you have."

Tapping my shoe against the floor, I finally asked the question I have had one hell of a time to dredge up the courage to ask them.

"Uhm, can you tell me what the hell exactly happen in the Twilight bar?"

Both Darrance and Tresch glanced at one another again, and then it was Tresch's turn to sigh.

"Sorry, kid," he said. 'But we're under strict orders not to tell you."

"Hmm, right," I said, finding myself utterly unsurprised, and I clenched my jaw.

The awkward silence must have lasted no more than ten seconds before Tresch finally broke it.

"You're dismissed, by the way, Attelus," he said. "Get back to you're hab unit, and we will contact you when we need you, is that understood?"

I nodded as that was all I could manage and turned to leave, but as I did, Tresch said at my back.

"By the way, good work on the interrogation, kid."

I stopped in my tracks, my back still facing away and felt a smile spread across my face. To be complemented by Tresch in such a way was something to be proud of.

"Th-thanks," I said, and I walked out the door.

 

 

I didn't go to my apartment, instead electing to go back to Taryst's tower. There was still that specific promise I had to keep, and I had every intention to see it through, despite the nerves playing hell on my guts.

In all honesty, I understood why Tresch and Darrance would sit on this information, but neither of them seemed particularly surprised they could have known or didn't care either one would not surprise me at all.

Sighing to myself, I turned off the main street into one of the many alleyways leading to Taryst's tower. Having decided to take the long route around, but something didn't feel right; ever since I had left Glaitis' tower, I could not shake the feeling that I was being watched.

I paused to look over my shoulder, finding that once again no one was there; shrugging to myself, I turned to continue but immediately froze in my tracks as I saw the figure appear right at the other end of the alleyway.

I flicked my wrist, ejecting a throwing knife from its sleeve into my hand. So my paranoia was justified after all. Could this be one of Brutis Bones' mooks?

There was one way to find out, and I began to walk toward the person, he was in shadow, but I could make out that he stood at just under two metres tall and built like an Astartes could it be Tresch who had tracked me here to tell me off for now following his orders.

I made a few more metres when three more figures joined the original in blocking my path, and I glanced over my shoulder to see, to minimal surprise, four more were beginning to approach from the other entrance. I could see now that they were all wearing expensive black suits with no gang markings or anything at all.

But they had yet to draw a weapon on me, interesting.

Now the others at the end began to advance on me; they were all brimming with confidence, so sure of themselves well that wasn't entirely unjustified as there were eight of them.

I activated my microbead to call for backup, but my only reply was white noise.

Hissing a curse, I stopped; now they were close all eight they had me surrounded, and I had no way of getting any reinforcement, but in all honesty, I relished this a test of my abilities after my recovery.

I grinned. "So, you guys come here often?"

They didn't answer to my quip only kept on approaching all with stony expressions.

"Hmmm," I shrugged and, without hesitation, threw my knife straight into one of the nearest man's throat, and he fell to the floor gurgling, dying.

The rest didn't seem to notice as they stopped their dogged advance and one by one drew their weapons; all of them wielded axes, small woodchoppers that would