Page 62 - The Chronicles Ser2 (6-10)

He found he was very adept at it; so much so, he soon became a member of The Head’s
elite guard, the Honoria Max, the name was a humorous play on words, referring to the
more honourable Ancient Roman Imperial Guard. In this position he was privy to
information that could make or break contracts, liaisons and partnerships. He soon became
one of the most feared of the Honoria Max; having a place in the Leader’s personal
protection team. It was this position that had afforded him, one day quite by chance, the
delicious opportunity to take his place as the Head of the group. He made it look like one of
his lieutenants had turned against the Syndicate and had killed the Leader. He was originally
appointed Leader pro-tem. But had since carefully eliminated all who would have posed
any threat. Above all he had enjoyed his killing spree. Under his reign the Kinray Group had
bested many smaller groups and gangs. With the most recent takeover they had increased
their presence considerably. These little peccadillos of Mortimer’s were a means for him to
ease his blood lust while maintaining some form of front as to “public” decency.

He arrived back at his office and started into the legitimate side of upper
management duties. His in-tray was light. Mainly reports on their import/export business,
some accountancy remarks on spending and then he noticed a pink form. It was a legal
expenses form with a covering letter from Hagron & Splitt. The form showed a projected
example of standard business charges for the services they would provide. Any enquiries
would have to be relayed to their offices in the Unity sector as they were responding to a
minor internal crisis there. They couldn’t give an exact date as to when they’d be able to
resume normal operations in Hellion City, as to the nature of the problem. He dismissed the
letter and went on to the form. They’d been very thorough and even offered a quite
generous discount for their services. He put it to one side and went over to his drinks
cabinet took out a glass and the bottle of Singorian Brandy and poured himself a generous
shot. He picked up the glass and warmed it in his cupped palm. Brining the glass rim to his
nose he sniffed. He slammed the glass down on his desk and called Gaston into the room.
He had recognised the faint smell of a poison he knew. She had been here. Gaston came
into the room.

“When did that witch Morgana come here?” he cursed

“She must have arrived while I was out. Herne would have let her in, he’s out on an “errand”
shall I call him back?” Gaston asked then shuddered as he saw the look in Glass’s eyes.

“She polluted my brandy with Engiri toxin! The…!” he restrained himself from using the
crude explicative “She may be my stepsister, but sometimes I wish she’d disappear into a
black hole. That brandy was my last bottle of ’99” He yelled and added “Yes! Get Herne back
and have him come straight here to my office.” Gaston hurried out. Morgana was his
Stepmother’s child from her first marriage; she was a year younger than he was, but was
just as ruthless, in her own way. She would have known that he would recognise the odour
of the toxin, so why did she do it. To annoy him perhaps - that had worked, no, it must be
for another reason. He would need to think this through. The toxin is not fatal; it just causes
temporary peripheral paralysis. The anti-toxin is colourless, odourless and leaves no
aftertaste, so she must know he’d keep a supply of every anti-toxin, anti-venin and emetics
to hand. Why what possible… AH! No, it couldn’t be that simple, there had to be another
reason. He went over to the hidden Vid recorder and pulled out the crystal. She hadn’t
found it and he downloaded the recordings, wiped the crystal and put it back.