Subject to Change at Whim of Author 5: Productivity Takes a Dive
an excerpt

"How the hell did she get a gun down there with her? She was wearing shorts so tiny they could be called indecent and I could tell what floral pattern her bra had just from looking at her shirt. There was nowhere she could have hidden that gun." Valiant. Angry and furious and very much unpleasant, but Dante understood. It was that or crying and nobody needed that now. The afternoon shift was with Cassandra, awake and rested and not rattled from being shot at. Dante didn't think anyone would be stupid enough to risk another attack right after that first one, but you never knew, and it was just in the human nature, he guessed. Hammering up security right after something bad had happened helped people feel in control. Maybe they fucked up the first time around but they would damn well prove that nobody would be able to get through a second time, even when it was infinitely unlikely anyone would even try.

"Her hair," he said as something clicked into place and at Valiant's look he continued. "Small gun. She has long hair. Check her shirt for holes in the back where her hair would hide it. She had it loose, which is pretty damn impractical in weather as warm as this. She could have had a holster sewn into the back of her blouse and retrieved the gun pretending to mess with her hair to cool her neck down."

Valiant shook his head but didn't argue, relaying the instructions through his mouthpiece before eyeing Dante again. "For a guy, you know way too much about that."

"Quit projecting your issues on me." His response would have sounded annoyed but his lips twitched before he frowned and turned serious again. "Who was she?"

Valiant gave a tired sigh. "Working on it. Fifteen bullets in the gun. Silenced, obviously. A dangerous job, but not sheer suicide if you had some skills, especially not when she chose the gardens. They can't be locked down like the buildings can. I'm guessing she planned to shoot or incapacitate us all and then get the hell out before reinforcements could arrive. She must've had pretty good intel. She was one of Odin's, or claimed to be, already when she showed up. She didn't have to fake a realistic conversion to be let into William's group."

"How is he? William?" Dante asked quietly. "I know there was no way anyone could have known, but I would be beating myself up in his situation."

Valiant shook his head. "Different situation. He's made enemies over the years. *Cassandra* has made enemies over the years. Hell, even being her head bodyguard, Verone had stepped on plenty of toes while protecting her. After a while you learn that you can't predict everything. No matter how good your precautions, no matter how paranoid you are, no matter how careful, someone's just going to find another way to get to you. Sometimes it's actually better to leave the occasional opening to lure the rats out into the open."

"Verone died because of that." Was he bitter? Dante wasn't sure. It was a job hazard, after all, even if it hadn't really hit home until now. He wasn't as well paid as he was just because he was easy on the eyes. Verone had known the risks, hadn't he? He'd known and never seemed to mind. It had probably become an integrated habit at some point, keeping himself between Cassandra and any potential danger like that. He'd known the risks, Dante knew the risks, but that didn't make it any better.

"Verone did his job. Verone knew the risks. Goddamn, you know that. Would you have preferred someone trying to bomb us instead? If she'd been a suicide bomber, none of us would have been here anymore. The point is that given the option, most people prefer to use a gun. You bomb someone, the risk of hurting civilians increases and so does the risk of the wrong kind of attention. A big enough bomb would draw the cops out here, especially one that went off in daylight when people are out. A bomb leaves a signature since nobody really builds a bomb from the exact same specifications. One group prefers one kind of explosives, another prefers another type of shrapnel. If all your group did was supply the bomb for money, you'd stand the risk of being tracked down and involved in the whole mess. Not with a gun. Nobody cares about a gun."

Silence. Fuck, the whole thing was a goddamn mess. "We have to find out who she is. They might try to send someone else."

"William's working on it with Dorian. One way or another, we'll get the truth. I hope they paid her a real fuckload for this."

Dante nodded but didn't really listen. William was William. If anyone had it covered, it was him, and his men would undoubtedly make damned sure there were no other traitors in their ranks. They might have severe issues, but they were also fiercely loyal most of the time. Maybe if they'd been wearing ballistic armour... but it had been outside, in the heat of summer, in a place that was supposed to be safe. And at that distance, it would have been easy for her to hit the head instead. A bit harder, but not really a challenge for someone who had scored as well on target practice as Beatrix had. Fuck. This was all a mess.