Read Cates 05 - The Final Evolution for Free Online

are you?”
    A slight smile kinked up the corners of his mouth, and he took a breath. The invisible fist tightened in one eye-popping jerk, and my HUD flickered off in my eyes.
    “widve been—”
    The door next to him crashed inward, smacking into him in a bit of luck I knew the cosmos would bill me for later. Remy stood in the doorway, eyes everywhere, long hair disheveled. The fist melted away and I crouched down slightly, putting three shells into the door. I looked up.
    “Check him.”
    Remy slammed the door shut with one authoritative shove and fired his cannon twice into the crumpled form of the Angel, each shot damaging my hearing.
    The sudden stillness was creepy, after that. Slowly, I straightened up and looked at the chair. The barber and his customer were gone. Then I looked at Remy and smiled. Remy stared back, expressionless, and slid his gun back into his hip holster, wiping his hands on his muddy coat.
    I sighed. “C’mon,” I said. “Let’s find that fat fuck.”
    Morales was sitting on a recovered chair in the midst of his ruined tent, belly spilling out over his knees. He was smoking what looked and smelled like a real cigar, pre-war. He watched us approach, with squinted eyes, affecting calm, but the sheen of sweat on his brow and the way he fidgeted told me otherwise. He was terrified, and for good reason: He probably had more muscle on tap, but they weren’t here yet, and if I chose to slit his throat in front of Potosí, no one was going to stop me.
    “I am glad to see you triumphant, Mr. Cates,” he said with fake cheer. “Those crazy Spooks should be opposed .”
    That sounded sincere enough. I stopped in front of the fat bastard while Remy circled around behind him. Morales cocked his head to track him for a second, then smiled at me and spread his hands.
    “I was not lying, Mr. Cates,” he said. “I do not have the funds I owe you.”
    I nodded, pursing my lips, and when I reared back and kicked him over in the chair, he didn’t seem surprised. Feeling tired, I just walked over to where he was and put my gun on him, cocking the hammer just in case all he needed was some extra encouragement.
    He put his hands up, the sheen of calm cheer gone. “Espera!” he shouted. “Wait! I have a counteroffer. I have five thousand yen in notes in my pocket. It is all I have, liquid.”
    I waited without moving. “And?”
    He licked his lips and fucking smiled. “I have information you have been seeking. I can tell you where the man named Wallace Belling is. Where he is right now.”
    I stood there for a moment, a cold shock settling into my bones. My mouth watered and I had to blink rapidly to clear my vision. It had been years . I’d last seen Belling in Amsterdam, when he delivered me to Cainnic Orel—known then as Michaleen Garda—after buying me out of the army. I’d last been in Belling’s presence weeks later, in Hong Kong. I’d been dreaming of killing them both for years.
    I nodded, stepping back and clicking the hammer back down. “Deal.”

YOU JUST HAD TO LET HIM DANCE

    I reached out and pulled Remy back. He resisted for a moment and then let me shove him down into his chair. I leaned against the bar and let my coat hang open, showing off the Roon in its leather holster. The big, hairy guy who was sweating in the unheated bar looked at it and then back at me.
    “I apologize for my friend,” I said. “Let me buy you a drink.”
    The bar only sold something mysteriously sweet and disturbingly red. I didn’t know what they made it from, and didn’t want to know. Our first night in Potosí I’d made the mistake of having a third.
    The big guy was probably seven feet tall. Old, older than me, but still a lot of muscle. His beard was gray and black and long, tied off every few inches with bits of leather. He settled back into his stool. “All right,” he said in an accent I couldn’t place. “Tell your friend he should not pick fights.”
    I nodded at the bartender and