Read Wild Cards [09] Jokertown Shuffle for Free Online Page A

despite the winter season. He hadn't gained a pound since Vietnam, though his face had more lines in it and his hair was flecked with grey.
    He looked around the room curiously, then at Kien. His eyes were as flat and hard as Kien remembered them, though they had an even greater bleakness, as if a major new worry was gnawing at him. His bitch, Kien noticed, wasn't with him. Maybe the hit hadn't been a total washout after all. "Don't you think taking the man's office when you took over his organization was a bit much?" Brennan asked suddenly.
    Kien shrugged and smiled. This was his hidden hole card, the ace up his sleeve. Brennan thought he was Fadeout. That was all the advantage Kien needed to finally crush his long-time foe. "Why not? It's a nice place and the lease suddenly became open. Besides, I felt that it would help provide for a smoother transition of power."
    Brennan nodded, as if he bought the explanation, then sat down without being invited. Annoyed, Kien opened his mouth to say something, then suddenly closed it. Cunningham apparently tolerated such behavior.
    "Back in town for a visit?" Kien asked in as casual a voice as possible.
    Brennan nodded. "Someone hit my house this morning." Kien put a shocked look on his face. "Any idea who?"
    "I would guess Kien," Brennan said steadily, "if he wasn't dead."
    Kien nodded. "Good guess, but he's dead. I saw his body myself."
    "You sure?"
    "I'm sure."
    "I've heard," Brennan said, "that there was something a bit odd about the corpse. Something that usually doesn't happen to heart-attack victims."
    Kien shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Ah, the severed head, you mean," he guessed.
    Brennan nodded silently.
    "Well," Kien said, suddenly inspired to mix truth and lies in equal proportions, "there was a lot of information locked up in his brain."
    "Deadhead?" Brennan asked.
    Kien tried to look defensive. "There was a lot I needed to know"
    Brennan let out a deep breath. "I guess I can believe that."
    Deadhead was an insane ace with the capability of accessing people's memories by eating their brains. When Kien had set the trap to catch the disloyal Philip Cunningham, he used his own corpse as bait, having been jumped into the body of Leslie Christian. He then had his head removed from his own body so Cunningham couldn't feed the brain to Deadhead and uncover his plot.
    "If Kien didn't send the killers, then who did?" Brennan asked, half to himself.
    "Well, Captain, you've made a few enemies along the way." Kien paused as if deep in thought. "And I can't pretend to have total control over the Shadow Fists, particularly the Egrets. Maybe elements loyal to Kien's memory finally tracked you down and tried to eliminate you."
    "Maybe," Brennan said tightly.
    "And you know," said Kien, as if struck by sudden inspiration, "maybe these same elements will be going after Tachyon as well. Maybe someone should warn him."
    "Maybe," Brennan said thoughtfully. "I'll mention it to Tachyon when I go back to the clinic to check on Jennifer."
    "So you've seen Tachyon already?" Kien asked. Brennan nodded abstractedly. "I took Jennifer to the clinic. She was wounded during the hit."
    "Not too seriously, I hope," Kien said as he stifled his glee.
    Brennan stood. "No, not too seriously."
    Kien rose to walk him to the door. "I'm sure she'll pull through. And if you need anything, just call."
    Brennan slipped the hood back on and stared at him with his hard unblinking gaze. "All right," he said, and left the office, going by Rick and Mick who were arguing because Rick couldn't concentrate on his comic book while Mick had the television on.
    Kien watched him go, a smile of sudden unexpected glee on his face. He had managed to maneuver all of his targets into the same basket. Now he could strike once and get rid of them all.

    4.
    "What's up, boss?" Brutus asked when Brennan returned to the van.
    Brennan glanced down at the homunculus, who was huddled against the cold in one of Brennan's old work shirts