Bounty Hunter

Chapter 3

Cat leaned back onto her desk, arms crossed over her chest. The old gunshot scar in her knee had been throbbing for the past three hours, which meant a storm would be coming through soon. She didn't acknowledge the pain—she knew better than to show any hint of weakness in front of bounty hunters, especially ones from another guild.

She gave a nod to the pair of hunters who worked for her. Both wore full exoshields—the armored suit worn by hunters for protection—though she'd seen their faces before. The smaller man's armor was polished to a golden sheen, while his partner's armor was as rough as his personality, and their callsigns were boldly printed on their chest plates. Their armor bore the Haft Agency logo on their biceps, but everyone in that room knew they really worked for her.

She turned her gaze on the "recruit" standing between the two men. That hunter's exoshield was scuffed and dirty after having put up what Cat had heard had been a decent fight against Cat's collectors. The hunter wore no helmet, and she had a cracked, bloody lip.

Cat wore no exoshield. As owner of the Iron Guild, she let her pale skin be on display as a sign of confidence while she was on Iron Guild property. No one would dare attack her on her own turf.

"You're younger than I expected, Wilco," she began.

The hunter who went by the call sign of Wilco jutted out her chin. "What do you want, Cat?"

"Ah, I see you're familiar with me."

"There aren't a lot of people walking around the Midlands with bad tattoos of whiskers on their cheeks."

Cat ran a finger over the three horizontal black bars on her left cheek. "These are markings from my silo tribe. You don't see them around here because my tribe is from the far north in the Freelands. But you're not the first to have that misperception. After all, that's how I came to be called Cat."

"So that's not your real name, I take it?" Wilco asked.

Cat wagged her finger. "Tut-tut, my secrets aren't yours to learn, and certainly aren't the reason you've been invited today."

"Invited?" The young woman spat on the floor. "Your goons here totaled my cutter and held a blaster to my head." She turned and glared at the man to her right. "You should've pulled the trigger. You got lucky once. It won't happen a second time."

He laughed. "You talk tough, little girl. Maybe if you had a partner, you wouldn't have gotten yourself caught."

Wilco's lip curled. "Partners have to split the bounty. Only weak hunters like you partner up."

"Believe that if it makes you feel better," the man to her right scoffed.

"We're good enough to take you down," the one to her left snapped.

Wilco gave a sinister grin. "I may not be walking out of here, but at least I'll go to my grave knowing that Reuben's going to kill both of you."

"Reuben's weak. You really think he's going to be around much longer?" the first man sneered.

Wilco snickered. "Long enough to put you down like the rabid mongrels you are."

The man on her left twisted her wrist behind her back, and she cried out.

Cat pushed off her desk to stand before the trio. "That's enough. Release her." She took a long breath before continuing. "Wilco, I brought you here to make you an offer. I want you to work for the Iron Guild."

"Work for you?" Wilco guffawed, then pointed to the logo of a clenched fist on her bicep. "In case you hadn't noticed, I already have a job at the Haft Agency, and I still have over nine years on my contract."

"I'll pay off your exoshield as a signing bonus. You'll be free of your contract. Besides, when did Reuben Tally last give you a bounty ticket? A week ago? More? His guild is failing, and his clients see it. More and more are coming to me with their needs because I'm not afraid to take any job."

"That's because you're a bunch of bottom feeders who are nothing more than guns for hire," the younger woman retorted.

"Not true," Cat said calmly, even though her temper was simmering. "The guilds are the only form of recognized law to most citizens. Sure, there are the local administrators and their so-called cavalries, but we both know that they're the real bottom feeders. We may have to take tickets that cross into gray areas every now and then to put food on the table, but all in all, what we do is pluck the bad apples out of the barrel before they rot the rest."

"If you say so," Wilco said.

"I do, and if you want to continue to make a difference, you'll work for me in the Iron Guild. You're young. The Haft Agency doesn't have the longevity to offer you a career. That guild will be gone in under a month, I can promise you that. The Iron Guild will soon be the only bounty hunters' guild in the territories, before long."

"And if I don't accept your offer?"

Cat's lips thinned. "If you don't accept, then you're free to walk out of here."

Wilco's eyes narrowed. "I have no cutter, and I'm in the middle of a desert seven hundred miles from Cavil. How am I supposed to get back home?"

"I wouldn't worry about the desert killing you," Cat said coldly. "I compensate my hunters for eliminating any competition encountered in the Salt Flats zone."

The man on Wilco's left chuckled. "Payday."

Wilco's body became as rigid as an icicle. "I'm dead as soon as I walk through that door."

"Not if you wear the mark of the Iron Guild." Cat tapped the logo of two crossed spears on her bicep.

"Neither of these guys are wearing the mark," Wilco noted.

"They're exceptions," Cat said.

Wilco gulped before stepping forward and turning her bicep toward Cat. "Fine. Sign me up."

Cat grabbed a small torch and burned off the Haft Agency logo from Wilco's armor. Then, Cat switched tools, this time using a handheld paint printer, and stamped the Iron Guild's mark where the Haft logo had been. A small thrill went through her. Stealing hunters from the Haft Agency was a joy that never got old.

She stepped back and smiled. "Welcome to the Iron Guild."