Page 27 of Sublime Target
Who do I need to destroy?
“Protestors,” Clarissa sighed. “Not everyone likes what Garner Corp represents. I hope you have some form of aerial transport nearby because it’s going to be absolute hell trying to get out of this building today.”
TWELVE
Clarissa’s heart sank as the red plume of smoke drifted into the sky.
The protesters were back. Of all days, it just had to be today, when bloody aliens were in the house.
She would never admit it to Garner’s people, but she could see where the protesters were coming from. Many of Garner Corporation’s developments were built on reclaimed or barren land—at least, the company portrayed it as barren. Deserts, arid scrubland, old industrial sites…
Garner had coined the term terraformation. They planted urban forests and packed high-rise dwellings around them. They made artificial lakes and brought in instant pop-up businesses to create a vibe.
Build it, and they will come.
That was the theory, anyway.
It helped that Garner Corp tended to buy out all the existing vacant properties in the surrounding towns, forcing people looking for accommodation to buy their apartments.
That’s how they controlled the market and the prices.
What they were doing wasn’t illegal, but the profit margins were starting to get a little out of hand.
Although Clarissa worked for Garner, even she could see the problem with it.
And the protests were becoming more and more frequent. The Federation could only disperse them when they crossed a particular line—like committing violence—and the protesters were clever enough to know how to stay within the law—just.
She glanced at Jerik Garul, who was staring at the smoke, not saying a word. He was perfectly still—almost unnaturally so. In spite of the surprisingly personal conversation they’d shared just moments ago, he suddenly felt cold.
He moved, stalking over to the edge, where a glass balustrade was the only thing separating them from the thirty-eight-story drop.
Clarissa had no idea what he was thinking. With his expression concealed behind that mask and his eyes hidden beneath that gleaming visor, he looked more like a cyborg than a warm-blooded being.
Kordolians were warm-blooded, weren’t they?
If she touched his skin… would he feel cold or warm? What would he look like without that sleek battle suit of his?
Wait, why was she even thinking about touching him? Why was she wondering what his skin would look like—smooth or rough? Battle-hardened? Scarred?
His armor betrayed his physicality. He was built like an elite athlete or a professional fighter, one whose discipline required bursts of raw power.
A rugby player, perhaps.
There was a feeling of coiled-up tension to him, as if he could burst into violence at any moment.
And right now, he was staring over the edge of the building at the protesters in the street below. Clarissa found his demeanor mildly terrifying because she had no idea what he would do next. It wasn’t as if he was one of the Garner Corp employees that she, as the boss’s EA, wielded some authority over.
She had no control over him whatsoever.
A big, hollow boom echoed from below. Something flew up into the sky. It was big and round and…
Clarissa followed its trajectory as it arced toward them.
Something appeared in Jerik’s hand—it looked like a gun, but it was different from any gun she’d ever seen. It was pure black; compact and sleek.
Utterly alien.
How had he gotten that thing past security?