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“One question,” Worf said. “You have not asked me for my oath of allegiance. May I ask why?”

“Because I wouldn’t get it, would I?”

“No.”

Mrs. Khanty was evidently not interested in his oath or too used to no one’s ever defying her. She seemed perfectly comfortable with the situation.

She nodded, once.

“With or without an oath, don’t betray me, Worf,” she said. “It’s not a good idea.”

“You should’ve whipped out your badge and arrested her! This is great! We’ve got her! She just asked a Starfleet officer to go out and assassinate somebody so she could get her revenge and keep her hoods in line!”

Ross Grant spread his arms in victory, not taking it personally that he hadn’t been the one to “crack” Odette Khanty’s pretty cover. He spun about the room like wind, amazed at the audacity of their opponent.

Inwardly grateful for his friend’s generosity, Worf sadly shook his head. “She said it was an ‘assignment.’ Someone had to ‘pay the price.’ She told me to be ‘the collector.’ She was very careful. She said nothing that might not be taken in some innocent way, given some other context. And you know how skillful she is at twisting facts.”

“Do I!”

“Also, she made sure we were alone. There were no other witnesses. Sindikash law requires two, not one.”

Grant started to say something, paused, then shook his head. “Yeah, right, well … yeah, I know that, I know … damn.”

Glad not to have to make that point again, Worf sat down to adjust his boot. As he watched his fingers work down there, all he saw was those two knarled hands, strong and trained, closing around a Klingon throat.

“The larger problem still remains. She wants me to kill one of the Rogues as an example. If I do it, then she will trust me.”

“Oh, you bet,” Grant uttered. “She wants to kill two birds with—well, you know what I mean.”

“Yes,” Worf sighed, “and if I fail to do it, we could lose our chance to get you ‘inside.’ “

“Hell, don’t do that! Whatever happens, we can’t let that happen. I’m the only thing she can’t be careful against.”

Worf buckled his boot again and sat straight. His eyes ached from all these hard thoughts. “Yes … and in order to keep her trust, I must earn it by completely incriminating myself. She and I will be obligated to each other.”

Grant shrugged. “Standard mob procedure. Make your henchmen do something they definitely don’t want to get caught doing, make sure all the right people know it was done, so you’re not the only one committing crimes. Then they gotta stick with you. Oldest story in the book. Seen it a dozen times.”

Frustrated, Worf only nodded.

“Y’know,” Grant added, “this is a big step you’ve taken here. From what I’ve been finding out, she used to give these special jobs to Ugly-an. Now he’s out and you’re in. You watch out for that guy, bud. I don’t want you coming back without arms.”

“I intend to keep my arms,” Worf assured, and stood up. He drew a choppy breath, held it briefly, let it out, then headed for the doorway. “Be sure to lock yourself in.”

“Hey!” Grant called. “Where’re you going? You shouldn’t be going out alone. You want me to go with you?”

“Not this time.” Worf yanked the door open, squared his shoulders, and forced himself not to look back. “I have a Klingon to kill.”

The midnight sky lay upon the domes of the city complex. Gothic spires toyed with lowlying clouds. The scent of wet grass and steamy wool rode an inbound breeze from the herd of American bison grazing passively in the valley just outside of town.

Cafes and clubs murmured with laughter and music, from the twange of mandolins to the whistle of clarinets. Sindikash was a comfortable place with a great deal to lose.

Mud. Rain had come lately, but briefly. The cobblestones were greased, hard to walk upon. His boots slipped as he moved, and each slip injected him with a tremble of insecurity. This was not a good place to be.

In the darkness of the alley between a church and a post office, he could see nothing.

Not even his own hands.

He should not have come alone. No one alone was safe on Sindikash.

Since he was a