The CRES code

Chapter Thirty Six - Loach Rises

     "I understand," said Loach. "He's got to know we're coming, though. He's probably skipped town by now."

     "We've got people watching him. Street urchins for the most part, but they're reliable. They say he's hiding at his sister's house."

     "Okay."

     "Make a good job of it and you have a long and profitable career with us," said Machine. "Get it wrong..." He left the words hanging and Loach nodded his understanding. He left the room, leaving Machine to turn again to look back down at the main gaming floor.

     There were three men waiting for him in the corridor outside, one of whom Loach recognised. It was one of the men he'd fought in the cloak room two days before, when he'd first come to introduce himself. Tyler, Loach guessed. He still had the bruise on his jaw from the blow with which Loach had rendered him unconscious. Loach held out his hand. "No hard feelings?" he said.

     Tyler glared murder at him, but then he reached out to take his hand. "No hard feelings," he replied. "Occupational hazard."

     "Right. You're here to show me to Paxton's house."

     "Right. You got everything you need?"

     "Yes." Loach still had his knife at his belt. It was the only contemporary weapon he felt comfortable using, but he was confident it would be enough against one civilian. A civilian who had to know that someone was coming to kill him, he reminded himself. A desperate man was the most dangerous creature on the planet, and people who grew overconfident soon became dead. Even so, though, he was confident that a single gambler in out of his depth would be no more than a moment's trouble for him.

     He was more concerned with the three men Machine was sending with him. Machine had to know that Loach had ambitions of replacing him. Did Tyler and the others have secret orders to kill him the moment Paxton was dead? The police would find two men who had apparently killed each other, motive unknown. They would simply close the file and Machine would move on, the ambitious upstart instantly forgotten.

     The first time around, back in his old life, Loach had been patient. He had taken twenty years to move up the hierarchy one small step at a time, spending as long as it took at each level to gain the trust of the people above him before arranging their seemingly accidental elimination. This time, though, with the priests searching for him, he didn't dare be so cautious. With the very greatest optimism he might have a year before they found him. More likely it would be less. Maybe a lot less with Jane still out there somewhere, the idiotic, spoiled rich girl who might make a mistake at any moment that would give them away. He had to move fast, therefore. He had to take over this criminal organisation while he still had time to use its resources. He already had the outline of a plan worked out. It was risky, but if he didn't try he was dead anyway when the priests sent the soldiers after him. Right now, the most dangerous thing he could do was play it safe.

     "Let's go then," he said, leading the way along the corridor towards the stairs back to ground level. Behind him, his three companions gave each other amused glances before following.

☆☆☆

     Reaching the street, Loach waved down a horse drawn taxi cab and climbed inside without waiting to see if the others were with him. Part of assuming the guise of leadership, he knew, was to give the impression that he just knew that others would follow where he led. Glancing back to see if they were, in fact, following was a sign of weakness and insecurity that would be spotted instantly. If they weren't following then he would do the job himself and report back to Machine that the others had deserted him. Machine's problem, not Loach's.