Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction ❯ Black Knights, Steel Hearts ❯ Chapter 8

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

**************************************************

The Bubble Gum Crisis OVA's (which this story is based on) are copyrighted by
Artmic Inc. and Youmex, Inc. I am just borrowing the characters for a little
while for non-monetary reasons. I can be contacted at the Email address above.
Serious C&C will be accepted, out-and-out flames will result in a Boomer
or two being sent after you, once they get around to building them.

Please, enjoy my take on the Bubble Gum Crisis universe . . .

*************************************************

Part 2 - Middle Game

Chapter 8

Gulf And Bradley - Japan Headquarters
Tinsel City
Friday, December 21, 2035
4:15pm

//Mr. Bradley, Doctor Zin-Choon is here. He wishes to speak to you.//

Carlton Bradley sighed and put down the pen he was using. He pressed the intercom button. "What does he want to speak to me about?"

The voice was female, crisp, and replied with no hesitation. //Project Doorstop.//

Bradley frowned. "Very well, tell him I'll see him."

"Very good sir."

The door opened, and a short thin man wearing a white lab coat entered. He was almost bald, what was left of his hair nothing more than white wisps clinging to his head. A thin droopy mustache, dark brown eyes, and narrow pointed features made him look like a rodent of some type. Bradley didn't like him, but respected his skills.

Zin-Choon bowed. "I am sorry to disturb you Bradley-sama," he said slowly in precise English. "But I come to ask you to delay the next interrogation session with the girl."

"Why should I?" asked Bradley, allowing his anger to show. "We need only two or three more sessions to retrieve all of the data we need from her."

"But she is weak. I do not think she will survive the next interrogation session."

"That is not my concern. My concern is the design for that shield generator." He stood up and planted both hands on the desk. "I want it, Doctor," He snapped. "And I want it as soon as possible!"

Zin-Choon didn't react to Bradley's anger. "But she has managed to withhold the most important parts of the designs from us," he said in the same tone of voice he had used since he entered the room. "If she dies, the part of the plans we have are useless."

Bradley thought for a moment. He hated the thought of any delay, but Zin-Choon was the expert, and he had to defer to the Doctor's experience in this matter. "How long before she's strong enough to go another session?" he asked, sitting down slowly, his eyes never leaving Zin-Choon's face.

"Twenty-four hours, thirty-six at the most."

"All right, you have thirty hours. I want her ready to go at ten thirty PM on the twenty-second. Are we clear?"

The doctor bowed in response. "That will be sufficient time." He waited several seconds before he continued. "There is one other matter I must discuss with you, involving the girl and you sister."

"What?"

"I must request that you sister stay away from the girl. Her presence is disrupting my efforts."

In what way?"

Interrogation is a science, and should be treated as such. Amateurs should not be allowed anywhere near a subject, especially one as young as the girl."

And you think my sister is an amateur?"

'Yes, Bradley-sama. She enjoys interrogating subjects, a major sign of an amateur. There is no place for emotion in such an environment. Interrogation is for retrieval of information, not the satisfying of a personal appetite. It is my belief that your sister is partly to blame for the need to delay the next interrogation session."

"I see." Bradley leaned back in his chair. "And if I refused to order my sister to stay away?"

"Then I will not be held responsible for the death of the girl."

Bradley took a deep breath. "I will tell my sister not to visit the girl for the next thirty hours. After that time, I will not promise anything."

Zin-Choon nodded. "That is all I ask for. I thank you for this time, and apologize for disturbing you over this matter."

"It is good you brought this matter to my attention, and I will heed your words. Good day, Doctor."

Bradley watched the Doctor walk out of his office, before he dialed a number on the desk's vidphone. He waited until he saw his sister's face, and heard her voice. /Yes?/

"Cora, we have to talk...."

**********

Sylia's Apartment
Friday, December 21, 2035
7:14pm

The dinner was turning out to be a better idea then Sylia thought it would be.

She looked at the faces around her table, drinking in the warmth and good feeling emanating from them. Priss to her left was eating quietly, pausing only to make a remark every so often, but her earlier stiffness had faded. Linna was seated next to Priss was, enjoying the food and another of Mackie's stories about living and working in Germany. Nene was seated on the other side of the table, her food almost forgotten, as she watched and listened to Mackie. Mackie himself was at the far end of the table, spinning out story after story about his time in Europe.

Mackie finished the current story, sipped from a glass of water, the said, "So, what have you guys been doing?"

Linna chuckled. "I think Nene should start. She told me she had an interesting morning today."

"Oh?" replied Sylia, noting Nene was suddenly blushing. "How interesting?"

Nene explained her morning again, starting with Daley's talk in the Cafeteria. Sylia saw Priss's head snap up when Nene told them about Leon resignation, but the singer said nothing.

But I can see what you're thinking, Priss, Sylia thought, watching Priss out of the corner of her eye while listening to Nene. He's gotten under your skin, hasn't he? You'll never throw yourself into his arms, but you're trying not to think about him right now.

When Nene announced her promotion and new position, there were hearty congratulations and well-dones from the others, including a preoccupied Priss. Nene started to blush, and she paused to eat some. She continued her story, including Daley's request for a Cracker unit inside ADP.

Nene looked at Sylia, looking concerned. "Daley's right about the lack of knowledge about Boomers. I looked at What the ADP has on file this afternoon, and it's limited. I've got twice as much data in my suit's data files."

She stopped, her face a blank for a moment. Then she tightened her jaw in frustration. "Damn!"

"What is it?" asked Sylia calmly.

"Before Daley dropped the bombshell about my promotion, he told me about the incident last night. In the excitement of today's events, it slipped my mind."

"What?" asked Priss, glowering at the redhead.

"Daley mentioned that the CU-5Ts Boomers we tangle with had force shields. That's why the ADP couldn't handle them." She summarized the entire conversation she'd had with Daley, careful not to leave anything out. The others listened in silence, and after she finished, there was silence around the table.

"We saw no signs of any force shields when we took them down," said Linna.

"That's because they were damaged by the time we got there." Nene frowned. "That might explain why their EM signature read slightly off from the CU-5T's baseline reading."

"So someone's finally come up with a usable Boomer force shield," said Priss with more then a hint of sarcasm. "Just what we need to spice up our lives."

"This is serious," said Sylia. "If those Boomers still had operational force shields when we attacked them last night, they could have been more then a handful - they would have been a danger to all of us." She thought for a second. "That might explain MALCORP's sudden interest in MegaTokyo."

"What are you getting at Sylia?" asked Linna.

Sylia outlined her conversation with Fargo, MALCORP's search for Janie VanDell, and Greg Mallory's sudden appearance. "I'll have to look at the data disk Nene put together before I say for certain," she said carefully. "But the sudden appearance of MALCORP is too much of a coincidence for my taste."

Nene was watching Mackie, who was deep in thought. "What is it, Mackie?" she asked him.

"It's funny you mention both the name VanDell and force shields," he said distractedly. "A couple of days before I left Germany, I overheard two of the other students talking about a Doctor VanDell."

Sylia straightened. "Are you sure of the name?" she asked.

Mackie looked at her blankly. "Yes. Doctor Nathan VanDell."

"What were the students talking about?"

"It seems he died in a explosion at his lab in the northern United States about four days ago."

"What does this VanDell have to do with any shield?" demanded Priss.

"He was part of the team that developed the first stable force shield," replied Mackie. "About fifteen or so years ago. I did a paper on the first tests earlier this year."

"Oh?" replied Priss. "That's convenient."

Mackie shrugged. "I've been looking into force fields for a while. I'm trying to come up with a way of upgrading the force shield on Nene's hardsuit, so she could move while it's up."

"You were?" Nene looked surprised.

"Your force shield forces you to stay in one place, making you an easier target. If you can move and have the shield up at the same time, you become a more effective fighter."

Nene looked at Sylia suspiciously. "Did you put him up to it?"

"I did not," replied Sylia coolly. "Enough about force shields. What else did the students say, Mackie?"

"They discussed a rumor that GENOM was behind VanDell's death. The usual stuff."

"Did they mention anything about VanDell having any children?"

"Nope. It wasn't that much of a conversation."

"Do you think Janie VanDell is Doctor VanDell's daughter?" asked Linna.

"I think it's very likely," replied Sylia. "MALCORP is expending a lot of resources for a single girl. I doubt they're doing it out of the goodness of their hearts. It's quite possible that Doctor VanDell continued his work on force shields, and Janie has some of that knowledge."

"So, What are we going to do?"

"I'm going to talk to Fargo, and see if I can get some more information out of him about MALCORP's search. I'm also going to look at that data disk later this evening. The rest of you stay available. If I decide to rescue Janie VanDell, we may have to move quickly."

They all nodded. Sylia saw Nene look at her pleading for help of some sort. She has something on her mind she wants to talk to me about, but doesn't want to talk about it in front of the others.

As if by a signal, Mackie pushed his plate away. "That's it for me tonight. I really have missed your excellent cooking the last year, sis."

"Are we all finished dinner, then?" asked Sylia.

The others murmured they had, and Sylia stood and began to gather plates. "Nene, help me clear the table and prepare some coffee. The rest of you, go into the living room. We can continue our discussions there."

Mackie, Linna, and Priss disappeared into the living room, leaving Nene and Sylia alone. Neither said a word until all the dinnerware was taken into the kitchen. As Sylia started to load the dishwasher, she asked Nene "Now, What do you want to talk to me about?"

Nene took a deep breath. "What I didn't want to tell you in front of the others is there's another officer in the computer security office. In fact, he's my subordinate."

"Oh? What's his name?"

"Alan Tremolini. Linna knows him, even dated him a couple of times, but she doesn't know him well enough to help me."

Sylia's eyebrow went up. "A man Linna doesn't know well? Interesting. What's exactly wrong with Alan?"

"He makes me uncomfortable." Nene described the conversation she'd had with Alan that morning, including his detection of her break-ins into the ADP's computer system.

Sylia finished loading the dishwasher, started it, then moved over to the coffee maker. "Finding someone who is as good as you in computers might have something to do with your discomfort," she said calmly, adding several scoops of coffee to the coffee maker. "Did you review his service record?"

I pulled it this afternoon." Nene gave Sylia a wan smile. "And I didn't even have to hack into the system to get it." The smile faded. "After reading it, I'm not sure what to make of him."

"In what way?"

"Well, you know that ADP usually hires their technical support personnel directly from the colleges and technical schools. I doubt we have six months of street experience in the entire support staff."

"But Alan has street experience?"

"Five years on the street before a medical condition forced him to transfer to technical support."

"What medical condition?"

"I don't know. His record doesn't say. When I asked him about it this morning, he got defensive about it."

"How did he react when you told him you were taking over as department head?"

"He sounded relieved. His medical status won't permit him to take over as permanent department head, and the job is too big for two people, let alone one."

Sylia filled the coffee maker with water and turned it on. "How good is Alan with computers?"

Nene shrugged. "From What I've seen of him so far? Better then most of the ADP computer types. He knows computer security better then I do."

"How does he react to the changes in the ADP the last two years?"

"Like Leon. He holds the current chief in contempt. He knows what's it like to be out there."

"Please get the cups out of the cabinet, Nene." Sylia retrieved a tray from an overhead and placed it on the counter.

Nene placed the cups on the tray. "So, any advice on how to handle him?"

"Have you given any thought to who you're going to have on your Cracker team?"

"Huh?" Nene looked puzzled. "What does that have to do with Alan?"

"Well," replied Sylia, placing a small pitcher of milk onto the tray. "Someone who is well up on computer security would be a great asset to the team."

"Sure. But would he do it? Or would he go to the chief?"

"You said he holds the chief in contempt, and he's an experienced street officer. Don't you think he'd jump at a chance to help his fellow officers?"

Nene nodded slowly, then comprehension dawned on her face. "And if he's part of the team, he's less likely to pay attention to any hacking I do, because I can tell him it's part of the cracker operation."

Sylia nodded. She poured the now brewed coffee into a silver coffee pot. "The first thing you have to know about leadership is using the strengths and weaknesses of the people you lead to your best advantage." She picked up the tray. "I think it's time to rejoin the others, Come along."

**********

Gulf and Bradley - Japan Headquarters
Tinsel City
Friday, December 21, 2035
8:37pm

"What are we going to do with MALCORP's hired dogs?" asked Hachio Ozu, the head of Gulf and Bradley's security for Japan. He was a short thin man, with a moon face and a perpetual scowl. He was dressed in a somber suit, and he stalked back and forth in front of Carlton Bradley's desk like a caged tiger.

"We have no indications that MALCORP has any idea where the girl is," replied Cora tersely. She sat on the small couch at one end of the office, and glared at the other two occupants of the office. Carlton knew she was still smarting from the talk he had with her several hours before about the VanDell girl.

"With the amount of money Mallory's throwing around, it's only a matter of time before someone puts two and two together." He stopped pacing, and leaned on Carlton's desk, and stared at his boss. "I've received information that MALCORP's brought in the Black Knights to handle the retrieval."

Carlton leaned back in his chair, and stared at his security chief for several seconds. "What would you recommend?" he asked slowly.

"We should eliminate as many of MALCORP's street operatives as quickly as we can."

Carlton looked over at his sister. "What do you think?"

"I agree." Her glare had soften, but her voice was still hard. "A few dead bodies might cool the ardor of the survivors long enough to finish retrieving the rest of the data from the girl's mind."

Carlton nodded, and looked up at Ozu. "Do it. Choose half a dozen target and eliminate them."

Ozu straightened. "I can use my contacts inside GENOM to arrange the details."

"No." Carlton stood slowly. "Our agents inside GENOM are too valuable to waste on such an effort."

"But if we make it look like GENOM did the eliminations, it'll distract the others."

"Quincy would never use anything directly traceable to GENOM in such an operation."

"Then What do you suggest?"

Carlton turned to look at his sister. "How many modified C-class Boomers are ready for use right now?"

"Five."

"I want four of them ready to go out tonight."

"To do what?" Cora looked suspicious.

Carlton smiled. "I want them to recruit and lead some of the street hoods against Mallory's people. Just the type of thing Quincy would think of."

He turned to look at Ozu. "Make sure they have untraceable weapons to distribute to the ones they recruit."

Ozu nodded. "And after the hoods take out their targets?"

"We'll keep them around for a day or two, just in case we have to eliminate more of Mallory's people. After that, dead hoods can't tell anyone anything, can they?"

The smile on Cora's face was chilling. "I like it. It'll muddied up the waters long enough to finish up our plan."

"In that case, Sir," said Ozu. "I'd better start putting this operation into place. If you'll excuse me." He turned and strode out of the office.

Neither sibling said anything until the door closed behind Ozu. Cora stretched, and stood up slowly. "Have you considered my plan, brother dear?" she asked lazily.

He sat down and leaned back in his chair. "I have. And I think it's a good one, especially in conjunction with the killing of Mallory's people."

"Then, I can go ahead with it?"

"Yes, but be careful. How long will it take you to be ready?"

"Six hours." She walked to the door. "It'll take that long to shape the 33S's features to match Janie's, plus the necessary reprogramming to simulate the girl's personality."

"Very well. Just make sure that nothing can be traced back to us."

"Don't worry, Brother," Cora said, smiling as if she was a child with a new toy. "I'm always careful."

**********

MALCORP Regional Headquarters
Tinsel City
Friday, December 21, 2035
10:15pm

Leon opened his eyes slowly, blinked twice, then groaned loudly. He shielded his eyes from the glare of the overhead lights, and struggled to sit up. It took him three tries before he managed to sit up on the couch he'd been sleeping on.

To put it mildly, he felt like hell. His mouth was dry and bitter, and his head felt as if it had been stuffed with burnt cotton. He leaned forward, but instantly regretted do so when a sharp stab of pain shot around his temples. He gripped the sides of his head with his hands in a vain attempt to keep his head from splitting.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, rookie," said a familiar voice from less then a meter away.

"Jeena?" he asked quietly, his tongue rasping like sandpaper inside his mouth.

"It's me." Her voice sounded amused. "You know, I thought you'd outgrown the stupid stunts, but I glad to see you haven't. Sorts of restores my faith in Mankind."

"Do you have any water?" Leon asked, not daring to look up at her. His head hurt too much to move it unnecessarily.

"I can do better then that, Leon," she replied. She tapped the back of his left hand with something. When he turned his hand palm up, she dropped a pill into it. "Take this. It should clear up the worse of the hangover in about ten minutes."

He looked at the small red pill in his hand. "What is it? Poison?"

"Ah, I'm glad to see the youthful naivete has finally given way to cynical realism." She handed him a cup of water. "Down it with this."

He swallowed the pill, chased it with most of the cup's contents, and passed the cup back to Jeena. He flopped back onto the couch, and turned his head slowly to look at his old partner. "Nice to see you again," he said slowly.

She looked much the same as she had when Leon had seen her last. Tall, broad-shouldered, with long dark hair cascading down her back, and more then pleasant features, she looked happier then the last time he'd seen her. The empty sleeve was the result of a rampaging Boomer, then a fusion Boomer that had absorbed the cyber-limb she'd used after the loss of her organic arm.

Her office had a mix of the modern and the unusual. It was twice the size of the ADP chief's office, and more impressive. The floor was covered in a thick gray carpet. Three of the office's walls were paneled in a dark colored wood, while the far wall was nothing but floor to ceiling windows. From this angle, Leon was impressed at the view of the city he could see.

The desk Jeena was leaning against was wide, solid, and looked to made of wood. The chair behind it was large and high-backed, with bulges that promised lumbar support. A head of a Boomer, a BU-55C by the look of it, sat on the edge of the desk, its dull red eyes staring at him. A neat bullet hole in the middle of its forehead gave a clue to how it'd ended on her desk.

The wall behind the desk was covered with pictures highlighting Jeena's career in the army, ADP and MALCORP. Leon thought he recognized himself in a couple of photos, but he wasn't sure. A low, three shelved, bookshelf sat below the photos, filled with books of all sizes and colors. On top of the bookcase, the arm of another Boomer, a C-class, was standing inside a glass case. Someone had bent down the fingers of the Cyberdroid's hand, leaving only the middle finger pointing straight up in an obscene gesture.

"Same here." She was dressed in a worn blue jumpsuit with the empty sleeve pinned up near the shoulder. "How's Boomer busting going these days?"

"Lousy," he replied. "The Boomers get nastier, and we get more paperwork instead of ammo."

She nodded solemnly "That's What I've heard."

"I take it you showing up at the bar wasn't a happy coincidence, was it?"

She smiled at him. "I still have friends inside ADP. They let me know you were not in a happy mood this morning. After that, it was just a matter of checking your favorite bars until we found you."

"Who's we?" Leon asked, sitting up slowly and putting his feet on the floor. "GENOM?"

Jeena managed to look hurt. "The day I work for GENOM is the day the devil has to shovel snow in order to get to his mailbox. No, these days I work for MALCORP."

"And who is MALCORP?"

"North American Megacorp, based in Philadelphia, on the east coast of the United States. They only have a few holdings here, but they friendlier then Quincy's bunch."

"That's like saying a shark is friendlier then a piranha."

"Maybe, but these people has played straight with me for the last five years." Jeena stopped leaning on the desk. "But I'm not here to discuss MALCORP's ethics, pure as they seem to be. I have a job offer for you."

"Work for MALCORP?"

"I can use you Leon. It'll be like the old days."

"Sure, chasing Boomers all over MegaTokyo is my idea of fun."

"Pays better then ADP. I make three times What I did as a ADP officer, plus I still have my medical pension."

Leon stood up slowly. He legs were shaky at first, but they steady after a few seconds. "Perks are better too, right?"

Jeena smiled. "Much better."

Leon shook his head. "Sorry, I'm not interested. I don't trust any Megacorp as far as I can throw them."

"I understand. What are you going to do next?"

"Get drunk again, and stay drunk for a while. Then, in a week or so, I go look and see who's willing to hire an ex-ADP inspector."

"Why not here?" she asked, waving her hand around the room.

Leon's eyes widened. "You're kidding, right?"

"I'm serious." She walked behind her desk and sat down. "Right now, I need someone like you for a special job. One that will pay you half a million Yen, make you feel a lot better, and make my boss ecstatic."

"Who do I have to kill?" he asked sourly.

"That's the best part. Not a soul. This is a missing person case, and you know the streets as well as I do."

"Then why don't you go out looking for this person?"

"I'm in charge of the search." She waved her hand. "I can't go out on the street."

Leon walked over to the windows and stared out into the night. "Who's the missing person? A scientist working on an important project?"

Jeena smile lost some of its sparkle. "A fourteen-year-old by the name of Janie VanDell. She was kidnaped from her home three and half days ago. Her trail has been traced to here."

"Are you sure it's a kidnapping? Maybe she ran away."

"In my experience," Jeena replied carefully. "Runaways don't kill three quarters of a security team, blow a hole ten feet square in a brick wall, and shatter the house's security system. And do all of that within three minutes." She leaned back. "Someone snatched her, someone who's good at this type of job."

"Who are her parents?"

"Her father was Doctor Nathan VanDell. He had his own high tech company located near New York City. Did a lot of freelance work for different companies. Very successful at it, from what I've been able to gather. Her mother's a school teacher."

Leon looked at her. "You referred to Doctor VanDell in the past tense."

He died hours before Janie was kidnaped."

"An accident?"

"There was an explosion at his lab. The explosion wasn't an accident."

"What's MALCORP's interest in all this?"

"MALCORP itself has no interest in Janie VanDell. But Greg Mallory is using MALCORP to find her."

"All right, I'll rephrase the question. What's Greg Mallory's interest in all this?"

"A fair question," replied a new voice from the doorway behind Leon. "And one that deserves an answer."

He turned slowly and saw a tall, lean man with mismatched eyes. The expensive suit he wore was well tailored to his frame. He strode into the room as if he owned it, moving gracefully towards Leon.

He held out a hand "I'm Greg Mallory, President and CEO of MALCORP."

"Leon McNichol." The handshake was firm, but not overpowering. "You were going to tell me What the deal was with Janie VanDell."

Mallory nodded. "Would you care to take a seat?"

"I think I prefer to stand."

"Very well. You don't mind if I sit down, do you?"

"Go ahead."

Mallory sat on the couch and stared at Leon. "I think it's time I lay down all my cards, Mr. McNichol. Jeena, I think you should hear this also. What I'm about to tell you should not be repeated beyond this room. Understood?"

"If it doesn't affect public security, or leads to a crime."

"Fair enough." Mallory leaned back and relaxed. "You had a problem with force shield equipped Boomers last night, am I correct?"

Leon shrugged. "Jeena told you."

"She did. Well, for the moment, imagine every rampaging Boomer with such a shield. In fact, imaging fighting a Boomer with a shield strong enough to shrug off anything short of an orbital particle beam."

Leon stared at him. The suggestions sent a chill down his spine. "You're serious."

"Very. Last night was the beginning." Mallory's voice was calm and direct as he continued. "Doctor VanDell had developed a design for a force shield generator that is smaller, more powerful, and can be mounted on a Boomer or Hardsuit."

"But Doctor VanDell is dead."

"And the plans for the shield generator were destroyed in the explosion, along with Doctor VanDell and most of his assistants. Janie VanDell is the only one who has the necessary information to build such a generator."

"A fourteen-year-old has that knowledge?" Leon looked skeptical.

"She has a photographic memory, and she worked on her father's notes for the design. That's why she was snatched. And that's why I want her back before those bastards tear her mind apart to retrieve the information."

"And What does MALCORP get out of it?"

Mallory smiled. "Short term? Not a damn thing. My one and only concern is rescuing a lost and scared fourteen-year-old from some nasty people. I want her returned to her mother, safe and sound. She's been through enough hell for now, don't you agree?"

"What about long term?"

Mallory's smile faded. "On the business side, MALCORP has a thirty per cent stake in VanDell's company. I don't like people stomping around on my turf, thinking they can get away with such hideous crimes. There are jackals out there that would seize on any weakness they saw, real or otherwise. MALCORP takes care of their own."

"Personally, I've know Janie since she was a baby." His tone became harder, and Leon heard some of his host's suppressed anger seeped into his words. "She's the brightest, most sweet natured teenager I've even know. She wouldn't hurt a fly, Mr. McNichol. She wants to be a doctor when she grows up.Am I making myself clear here?"

Leon nodded. "I hear you." Either this guy is an incredible actor, or he's telling me the truth. And I think he's telling me the truth. "And respect your reasons. I'll help."

"Good." Mallory stood up, and glanced over at Jeena. "Pay him what our top freelancers are getting. You can start right now, Mr. McNichol." He extended his hand to Leon again, and Leon took it. "Jeena will give you all the details. Good evening."

He turned and strode out of the office. Leon watched him leave before he turned to Jeena. "Is he always this...."

"Direct? Damn right he is."

"Do you believe him?"

She nodded slowly. "His reputation among the rank and file workers is incredible. He demands loyalty from the people who work under him, but he returns that loyalty tenfold. MALCORP doesn't use people up and spit them out like GENOM does."

"Sounds too good to be true."

"He is." Jeena stood. "I don't know about you, but I'm hungry, and I don't want to brief you on an empty stomach. Care for a late dinner?"

Leon's own stomach indicated it was empty. "Fine by me," he said with a smile. "You buying?"

"I think I can squeeze it out of my budget." Her own smile was lazy. "After which we can go back to my place and I can fill you in on ALL the details."

"I'd better start after dinner, or your boss is going to be wanting details to why I'm not out on the street."

Jeena laughed. "Spoilsport," she said lightly. "But you're right." She linked her arm through his, and led him to the door. "Come on rookie, and tell Auntie Jeena all about your love life."