Free Castling by Jack McGlynn Page B

gulped his tumbler’s remainder, sauntering back for a refill.
    “I heard a dirty rumou r you collected so many heads that night, C.A.M.L. offered you a job on the spot. Are you here at their behest? Because I haven’t been to Central America for years.”
    Rook waved away the accusation,
    “No, no. Once Cuba dusted itself off and threw its resources into that peacekeeping meta-human league, they were content to let my contract... expire.”
    “ Well I’m not surprised. You were an antisocial git. Hardly the poster child for super-human cooperation...”
    “I wasn’t that bad. ” Rook insisted, a sudden uncertainty creeping in.
    “Oh yeah?! Tell that to whats-his-name, the Australian in the trench coat, that ponce everyone loved... Angle... Axel? Axel!”
    “I can’t.”
    “And why is that Rook?” Sean teased, “Is it because you hit him so hard he went deaf?”
    “Okay, maybe I was a little antisocial.”
    “ Ha! Bad is the only word that travels in our circles, Rook! Which is why I suspect your newest employer struggles with the basic tenants of irony; sending someone like you to lecture me on morality is a little rich, no?”
    “ I’m not here to lecture you, Sean” he smoothly assured his mark. The man’s greying eyebrows hooked.
    “Oh bless, are you really playing the empathy card?
    You understand how I feel, eh? You want to get me help, is it? No doubt the very same help that gave you a renewed purpose? So I give up my wicked ways all will be forgiven?!
    You needn’t waste your breath. This isn’t my first house call. Europe, China, Africa, they all tried to get me on board, threatening then flattering. I’m sure you’ve noticed forgiveness isn’t all that hard to come by for individuals as... talented as us.
    Still you’re due some credit, at least. You’re here alone, unarmed, talking man to man. That’s dignified. Brain dead, but dignified.
    But honestly Rook, a re you still so desperate to play the hero?”
    Rook’s reply was immediate, explicit.
    “No pe.”
    Their eyes locked and Sean understood. Rook wasn’t there to lecture him, to bribe him, to strong-arm, threaten or flatter him. Rook was there to murder him. In his own home.
    Decidedly un-heroic.
    “Well, well, all grown up... good for you. So, before we redecorate, what did you want to talk about?”
    Rook swirled the dregs of his coke float, eyeing the brown foam staining the glass’ edge.
    “I want to know the why.”
    Sean’s flinch was almost imperceptible. A cybernetic hand rubbed the nape of his neck as he paused, sighing .
    “ I don’t normally discuss the why...”
    “ Well, let’s just say I’m doing a survey. So indulge me” Rook insisted, marching around to find a wall he could lean his shoulder into.
    “I had a boy.” Sean began, croaking,
    “ Probably would have been about your age now....” he paused, eyes glazed, then took another long swig. He swallowed, “I had a partner, a wife back then too. But we had to travel a lot, as folk of our stature are wont to do.
    Long story short, my son ... he had the misfortune of being born in Beijing. And there is no point trying to fight those conscription laws. Trust me, Rook. It can only make matters worse. So, the day he turns five, a couple of suits show up at the house, and they take...” a haggard breath escaped him, “they take my son.
    They pumped him full of that same poison everyone was pushing so hard back then. S ame poison they gave you and three hundred other children. And my child, well, he wasn’t you was he? None of them were.
    So you already know he didn’t live through it.
    Because none of them did.
    It hit me pretty hard. But my wife? It-“
    Rook dinked his glass with a fingernail, interrupting,
    “Can I just stop you there, please?! Sean, I don’t have all night. So, if you’re not going to take this seriously-“
    The mercenary threw his head back and howled, giddy laughter bucking his frame. His arm whipped out and snagged the