“You understand the mission then?” La’Dasha said to the grate under her feet as she sat on the bench.
“I do,” came the terse reply. La’Dasha had never met the man she knew as Faelian, though she had made use of his services for years. So far he had been undeniably successful. However, her requests had typically been much simpler than this one. She sincerely wished she could have just ordered a straightforward assassination, but that wasn’t the plan. Her operative would need to have a good grasp on the complexities. But she trusted no one more than Faelian.
However, that wasn’t saying much. She wasn’t even sure what race he was, though he was clearly not a khajiit or argonian. She only knew he got the job done where others had failed her. And this was going to be an expensive operation, though expenses didn’t bother the Dominion. A good thing too. The long range weapon she had left in the drop off location was priceless.
“Where?” came the hoarse voice from below her.
“Crypt. Name of Shelley. Key is in the urn on the left of the door. And Faelian…”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to be following this one closely. It’s important.”
“Got it. When do you expect her in the city?”
“Two days from now.”
“I’ll contact you when it’s over.”
“No need. I’ll know when it’s over.”
There were no footfalls, but she sensed the man had gone anyway. It wasn’t like her to worry, but she was worried now. This was way too complex, and too many people were involved. Important people. If she failed this, she would die. It was as simple as that. Number 5 didn’t have to make the threat. She’d carried out similar orders on other high ranking members herself.
She needed a drink. She crossed the road to a bar. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light within and she sat at the bar and ordered her usual. It came to her – clear, cold and strong. She downed it with a single gulp and ordered another.
“This seat taken?” came a voice beside her. She looked to see a man. Big man.
She thought about it for a moment, then decided she needed the distraction. “There is now,” she replied noncommittally.
“You new in town? I haven’t seen you around here before.”
“Pretty new. Just came in yesterday. Business.”
“Ah,” he said, and she wondered how long he was going to take to get to the point. But it was all part of the game. She had to wait.
“Say, wanna guide? I know all the hot spots in town. This place, it’s alright, but it’s dead.”
“You like cats?” she asked, touching his thigh. She felt the muscles flex underneath her claws.
“I like everybody,” he said.
“Do you?” She looked him up and down. Slowly. “How much do you weigh, stud?”
“Oh! Like what you see? Couple hundred.”
“Mmm. And how big are you?”
“Big enough for a cat.”
“Are you? Well, this one does like to sample the local meat when in town. Want to skip the hot spots and make our own?”
This was the turning point. A lot of men she met would balk at this point. She didn’t mind. It was all part of the game. Some would be turned off by her boldness, and those were the ones that got away. “Go home to your wife,” she would tell them in her mind. “Go kiss your kids, stud. Be smart.”
“Sure, pussy. Where are you staying.”
Externally she smiled and told him her hotel and room number. Internally she sighed. The mean intelligence of the male population of Tamriel would slightly increase tonight. There was that. She was a force for evolution.
“Give me 20 minutes,” she said, standing up and downing her second drink. “The door will be open, stud.”
She saw the lecherousness in his eyes when she turned back at the door, watching her tail make motions in the air. “20 minutes.”
“I’ll be there,” he said, smiling a smile that told her all she needed to know. He would be.
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Ra’Jirra stepped down from the wagon behind a family of fellow khajiits into the full majesty of Rihad. It stank. The odor of thousands of different people, all crammed together in such a small space and under such high heat, would yield nothing else. Along with that wafted the aroma of a thousand different street vendors, all selling their possibly-still-edible wares. It combined to give a stench that reached to the sky.
She’d been here before. She had hoped to not be again.
Her contact was named Serosh, a rather bland looking Redguard she had met once before briefly, but she had done her research on him during her trip to Rihad using the folio Em had given her before she left. Not a top agent, but reliable and committed. However, he was a family man, and that was dangerous.
He hailed them a taxi, a premium affair. The Orsimer pedalling it was pleasantly quiet and didn’t reek too badly.
“Where am I staying?”
“The Pendant. Best lodgings in town. They’ve a premier casino and bar if you’re interested. I’ve got you the penthouse suite.”
“Nice! You know my tastes,” she smiled as he offered her a cocktail. She spat out the feathers though. She preferred them plucked first.
“Indeed. But it’s not just for your vanity, Raj. They’re the only hotel that excels in privacy. We’ll talk there.”
Ra’Jirra saluted him and began gnawing on the cocktail as she watched the riffraff of Rihad go by outside. The driver was impressive in his speed and mobility. She lay her head back and enjoyed the meager breeze and occasional respite from the atmosphere of the place. At moments she might almost think…
Suddenly an explosion rocked the small cart. She spun around to look out of the small window behind her. Smoke was rising from a storefront behind them, but the Orsimer was dutifully speeding past. She saw blood and heard screaming.
“What’s that all about?”
“Local disturbance. The usual thing. Massive poor population, small rich population and practically no middle class. The place is ripe for revolution, but the government keeps a pretty firm hand.”
“So that was a revolutionary bomb?”
Serosh shrugged. “Or counterrevolutionary. Who knows? Doesn’t make much difference really, does it?”
“Not to those people bleeding on the street.”
They pulled past the gates leading to The Pendant. Armed guards were in evidence. Lots of them. She watched as the gates clanked into place firmly behind her.
“Are they locked out, or am I locked in?” she asked Sarosh as he took her hand to help her out of the taxi.
He handed the driver something gold and the driver bit it before pocketing it. “Yes,” he replied with a smile, and two large Redguards came to see to her luggage while she strolled into the hotel. The doors opened at her approach, and she wondered for a moment if there might be magic involved, until she saw the ropes which obviously led to a couple of menial laborers stationed to give them a pull at the proper time.
Inside the air temperature dropped at least 20 degrees.
“Whoa! What’s this?” she asked the her friend.
“They call it Air Ice. They have a big tub of ice on each floor with a fan that blows it into the rooms. Nice, eh?”
“I’ll say! Almost makes me think I could live here!”
“Better watch that, cat. Some of us do, you know.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
“Let’s get you to your room,” he said.
They walked into a small box surrounded by a gated door which he closed. He turned a knob to indicate her floor number, and the box began to rise smoothly. She never did see the laborers that accomplished that little miracle, but she had no doubt they were there.
Serosh handed her the key and she opened the door. The room was huge and immaculate. She even let out a squeal when she saw the bath. It was enormous and open, with a commanding view through thick glass doors that led to a balcony beyond.
“Serosh, you’re not into cats are you?”
“Sorry Raj, no. Not me. Happily married man.”
“Good! You stay there, I’m taking a damned bath!”
“You do that. Sweaty fur isn’t exactly the most delightful perfume, I’m afraid.”
“Don’t I know it!”
She opened a spigot and water began to flow. She had no idea how that worked, but she was sure somebody’s muscles were involved. The water temperature was perfect.
“I’ve left a dossier on the table,” she heard from the next room as she got undressed. “Burn it when you’re done.”
Ra’Jirra lowered herself slowly into the warm water and let the tub fill slowly over her as bit-by-bit parts of her were submerged. She nearly cried with pleasure. “Aaaaaahh!”
“Long trip?” came the voice from the other room.
“Too long. I think I just want to stay in here all night. So, how long are you good for tonight? When do you need to go home?”
“I’m good as long as you’d like. I sent my family away. I don’t like them to be around during an operation.”
“Smart thinking.”
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