Freehold Read Online Free PDF Page A

emerged as a servile whine. “Welcome to Arno's finest, noble sirs. How can this humble old man be of service?”
    “We're here to see President Kasten,” Stell answered evenly. “Where could we find him?”
    The old man's tongue snaked in and out thoughtfully. “Kasten ... Kasten, hmmm, the name does have a familiar ring, noble sir,” he said doubtfully, his left hand scratching a bald head, the right palm up, waiting for a tip.
    “Maybe this will improve your memory, old man,” Como said impatiently and placed the barrel of his slug gun in the clerk's waiting palm.
    The old man jerked his hand back as though burned. “Third floor, Suite B," he snapped resentfully, turning back to the porno holo still playing below the counter. As soon as Stell and Como were out of sight, he picked up the com-set and punched in a series of numbers.
    On the sixth ring, in a plush hotel room on the other side of the Zone, a beautiful woman with long black hair flicked on the com-set next to her bed and listened without answering. “They're here,” the old man said, and he hung up.
    The woman smiled a cold smile, and turned to the naked man in bed beside her. “Your first attempt was a failure, Major. I hope you'll do better the second time around.” As her cool fingers slid toward his groin, Major Peter Malik wondered which she meant, the ambush of Stell's convoy, or their recent coupling. He hoped like hell it was the ambush.
    The lift tube was out of service, so Stell and his men walked up three flights of stairs, and then down a drab hall to the door marked SUITE B. Standing on either side of the door were two hard-looking men dressed in stained leathers. One had a dark beard, quick bright eyes, and a large hooked nose. The other was too young to shave, had acne, and a thatch of yellow hair. Long exposure to sun and wind had tanned their skins a dark brown. Both wore sidearms and cradled assault rifles. They regarded the approaching soldiers with interest but without alarm. They think they can take all four of us if necessary, Stell noted with interest. Looking at them, he decided it was a distinct possibility. His respect for their prospective employers were up a notch. Freehold evidently produced some tough customers. They were still fifteen feet away when the man with a beard said, “That's far enough, gentlemen. Can I help you?”
    Stopping as ordered, Stell was careful to keep both hands in sight. “We're here to see President Kasten,” he replied. “My name's Stell, and this is my aide, Sergeant Major Como.”
    The bearded man nodded in acknowledgement, and whispered into a wrist mic, his eyes never leaving Stell. Receiving clearance via the implant in his right ear, the guard smiled. “They're expecting you, Colonel. Go right in.” In spite of the bearded man's friendly demeanor, the younger guard only grudgingly opened the door. A very serious young man, Stell decided. Stell smiled his thanks and entered with Como close behind. The two troopers remained outside.
    After passing through an antechamber, they emerged into an open, airy room that had seen better days but still managed a feeling of used elegance. Comfortable furniture surrounded a worn rug, while indirect lighting cast a muted glow against once-red walls. Two men and a woman rose to greet them. “Welcome, Colonel Stell,” the larger of the two men said. He extended his hand, a smile of greeting on his round, tanned face. “I'm Oliver Kasten.” Kasten was a big man, once athletic, now starting to put on a little weight. Stell liked his firm grip and open gaze.
    “This is my daughter, Olivia,” Kasten continued with a gesture, “and over here we have Senator Austin Roop.” Stell smiled at Olivia Kasten and shook her offered hand. It was cool and firm. Her touch sent a tingle of excitement through him and the subtle widening of her eyes told him she felt it too. They were brown eyes, deep and calm; the flecks of gold floating in them matched her