Previous Chapter - Station 2-14
Chapter Ten: Voss
Voss feels like a teenager again as he readies himself to break out of the penthouse in the middle of the night. Not that it was difficult. He was sixteen when he added his biometrics to Pangere’s security so that he could come and go as he pleased. He hated being confined to the building, as luxurious as it was.
He was meant to be free.
It wasn’t hard to hack the system. Well, it didn’t seem hard for the guy he had hired to do it. The difficulty was making sure that Pangere never found out about it. So he only used his access sparingly. And then on the special occasion that he was desperate to leave, he waited patiently for the right moment. Like the five minutes between the changing of the guards where he can slip down the hall to the waiting elevator.
He breathes a sigh of relief when he presses his hand against the scanner and the elevator doors open.
He hasn’t been locked out.
He steps inside and takes it down to the ground floor where he slips out onto the quiet streets of the Station before anyone has a chance to notice.
He breathes in the fresh air, relishing his freedom.
He needed some space from the chaos of the last few days. He had been stupid to think that Ley had everything she needed to win. And when she lost so easily it nearly sent him over the edge.
She had to win.
He needed that money.
More importantly, he needed a drink.
Fernleigh’s Pub welcomed him home as if he hadn’t missed a day. His table was empty and he finds a drink waiting for him as soon as he takes a seat. He needs this. It’s Fernleigh’s hospitality and the familiar hum of its patrons that calms his racing thoughts.
He had relied too much on what he saw that he forgot to think about what he knew.
Ley was an easy bet. She had the power and tenacity to win the Games. But he had forgotten that the Games were nothing to do with power.
They were a show.
And now Ley was the powerful loser, and it was his job to make her a star.
He closes his eyes in thought and settles further into his chair as his drink begins to warm his bones. The moment of peace is quickly shattered when he catches a waft of familiar cologne snaking its way towards him.
Derek.
There’s no mistaking that scent. It’s the particular blend of citrus and musk that’s enough to make his eyes water. For years he had wondered how Derek was unaware of the stench.
Voss could have told him but there was something about knowing that he went around wearing that sour smell that puts a smile on his face. He opens a lazy eye just as Derek sits down across the table and slides another round towards him.
‘This may be the shittiest bar in the Station,’ says Derek.
‘And yet,’ says Voss. ‘I can’t get enough of the ambiance.’
‘You know I always liked you, Voss.’
‘Here we go,’ he groans, before he drains his drink dry.
‘I think we can help each other.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ He scoffs. ‘How's that?’
‘I have a lot riding on these games - something that I'm sure you can appreciate.’ He pauses, waiting for Voss to agree.
‘Get to your point,’ says Voss.
‘I need Ellis to win.’
‘Not my problem.’
‘Say that it was,’ says Derek, signalling to the bartender for another round. ‘Let's say that if Ellis loses, it very quickly becomes your problem. Or if Ley does make it to finals and has to verse Ellis again, it would definitely be your problem.’
‘Piss off, Derek.’
‘All I'm saying is, it would be great to count on you for help.’ Derek takes out a calling card and writes a figure on the back. Voss doesn’t have to look to know that it’s going to be an obscene amount of money. He places it down in front of Voss just as the third drink arrives. ‘Think about it.’
Voss watches him leave the bar as quietly as he came but the trace of his cologne lingers. He knows that he won’t take him up on his offer. That the money is as foul as the smell that carries it. But these are trying times and if he can’t make Ley a star, he needed to save his own skin.
He tosses back the final drink, telling himself that he can blame the alcohol for his poor decisions. Then he slips the card into his pocket, just in case.