Page 34 of Rogue-ARC


  We settled for basic clothes, a bag each and new phones. I hope they enjoyed the ones we’d left with them. Without a proper access code the first time, they should have completely slagged the memory cores. It was possible they disabled them, removed the cores and tried to crack them. If so, they’d have only the information we had on Randall. Everything related I’d pulled and scorched before we’d started our departure.

  At the jump point, I warned Silver. “We need these things out of our necks. They may want to kill us, or just screw up and do so by accident, so sorry. I may need to intimidate someone into responding. I could need your help. That could be dangerous.”

  “I have your back,” she said.

  It was good to hear that, but I really didn’t want to have her die over something silly.

  We sought the UNBI office. Their receptionist was young, probably a college boy doing intern work. He recognized it as important, and relayed the information. They let me sit twenty minutes before coming out.

  The woman who came out tried hard to put on the bureaucrat face, but it didn’t work. She looked us over and hesitated.

  “Mr. Destin, I have your file here. What do you want us to do?”

  “I want you to disable this bomb in my throat,” I said, pointing at the faint scar.

  “I’m not sure what authority I have to remove devices implanted by a higher echelon.”

  “Because they said you should,” I tried reasonably.

  “Yes, I saw your load. I need to confirm that with them, though. This will take some time.”

  “Then I will sit in this chair until you have that information,” I said. “I wouldn’t want you to have any doubt of my whereabouts, being the dangerous man I am.” I gave her a stare. Silver tapped her foot and managed to match the glower.

  She disappeared into her office. Three minutes later, someone came out with medical gear, swabbed my neck, sprayed an anesthetic, slid in a probe and pulled out a capsule. They did the same for Silver. She winced. I hadn’t.

  “Thank you,” I said, and stood and left, Silver at my heels.

  She clung to me for a moment.

  “I’m playing the girlfriend role for a moment. I was really worried about you there.”

  “So was I. Yes, it could have been ugly for both of us.”

  She said, “I don’t want to be melodramatic. I nearly died.”

  “You did. At least twice. We are really not welcome here.”

  “I know,” she said, and was quiet.

  After we vacated the government’s office, though they permeate everything, like a bad smell, I said, “So now we can figure out which way to hop. I want to get aboard a non-UN ship fast.”

  We didn’t have a choice. A ship’s officer met us in the waiting room. They apparently paid fare for us on an Earth ship bound for the Freehold. It was a luxury commercial liner

  “Good day, Mr. Destin. I’m Third Officer Kwan. I’m directed to make sure you are very comfortable in your cabin for departure.”

  I could have taken him out, but I suspected there was a squad with weapons behind the door, and that they had orders not to worry about collateral casualties. We were leaving on this ship and heading in the direction of home, at least for now.

  “I accept the situation, sir. Please show us to our stateroom.”

  He smiled as he said, “Please go ahead of me to your right. Dock Four.”

  We preceded him with enough distance to minimize advantages. I could have taken him, but unless I planned to start a battle in the station, or immobilize everyone aboard and fly it myself, no cards. Even then, the current route would definitely take us to a system where Earth had warships.

  It was aggravating, but inevitable.

  We got VIP passage through the gate, aboard ship, and into a stateroom. It was better than basic, but not first class. No complaints. Kwan sat with us until they undocked, then said, “Enjoy the trip,” and left.

  Silver and I gripped each other in comfort, release, aggravation, exhaustion. My own apprentice had run an end-around past me. I’d been IDed, my past dug up, and I hated the universe.

  “I have to message the boss,” I said.

  “This is an Earth ship.”

  “Yeah, can’t be helped. I’ll be discreet.”

  I assumed they read the message, and I assumed they knew the background, but I kept it in phrased language. I wasn’t going to compromise even an outdated code, and without context, it should be safe enough. I sent, “No luck. Intercepted. Regrouping.”

  Then all we could do was wait. There was nothing we could access on the nodes without compromising more, apart from watching the news.

  I became more distraught as it went on. The combination of age, refreshed post-combat stress, distance from my daughter and the ongoing wear of the mission had gotten me. I couldn’t do any more. I’d only succeeded in hurting Randall’s arm, blowing his cover, killing his assets and destroying his main patron. Good stuff, all, but he was still alive and still operating. We are just that hard to take out. Naumann was going to have to bite the bullet, send an entire platoon, and accept the visibility.

  Insystem, I felt a bit better. They were on my territory now, and I was pretty sure my word could hold this ship. Not that I needed that. The crew had been keeping an eye on us, but relaxed somewhat now.

  We were off fast enough to satisfy them. I needed to get groundside fast, find better intel and decide if I was going to bother with continuing, take the kid and disappear again, or try to settle back down. None of it appealed.

  One thing bothered me. We presented immunization declaration, and it was accepted. No test was done. It used to be standard that everyone was tested for bloodborne pathogens before system entry, including diplomats. Inviolable law. Apparently, it had been reinterpreted so a doctor’s declaration was sufficient, and they didn’t check on the status of the doctor too much. I’d hoped we’d have a confirmable DNA trace on Randall. No such luck.

  We boarded a Skywheel shuttle and headed for the surface and Jefferson Starport.

  Quietly, but without worrying about mics, I told Silver, “First thing is a hotel. Discreet. I can’t rush home and we can’t rush on base.”

  “Understood,” she said.

  At least here it was easy. We were down without luggage to worry about; we’d pick it up later from claims. We were outside in hot, bright summer Iolight in seconds after debarking. We took a cab to the Renaissance and checked in. All they cared about was the cash and our polite request for a third floor room. That would slow any potential attackers, and I could jump it if I had to.

  “I need to debrief before I go home,” I said. I didn’t want to go straight to my daughter. I wanted some distance for both moral safety, and in case anyone was tracking me. We’d have to do some sanitizing to make sure we were safe, and keep an eye on Earth. I wasn’t worried overly about the government, but out of twenty-eight billion, some vengeful psycho was inevitable. If one decided to fund a trip out here . . .

  “Good idea,” she said. “I’m sorry the evasion on Earth didn’t work.”

  “Not your fault. He obviously had some prep time and gear in place. We did not. Had we used embassy resources, it would only have made the leak bigger. You did well.”

  “It feels like failure,” she said.

  “It is failure, but that doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. We did hurt him, a lot. He’s also more visible, but that was probably unavoidable. That hinders his operations, though. He’s made himself a pop star assassin. Not what it takes. He was always good at the short term, never a long-term thinker.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “You’re welcome, and I’ll be reporting it as such. Not to help your career, but because it’s true.”

  She just nodded. We were both wrung out.

  I sat down and sighed.

  I was able to reach my own accounts, and went through the tedious process of deleting stuff that didn’t apply, authorizing stuff that had enough interes
t I wanted to look at it, filing stuff to follow up later. I’d have to work on the business again, too; it had atrophied of course, with months of doing nothing. I still wasn’t sure if a node was smart. I was known now. Not widely, and hopefully the story would be minor old news for most, but for Earth I was a monster, and for some reason here I was a hero. Neither appealed.

  Then I saw a message entitled, “Trone Street.”

  I really wanted these tingles of impending doom to stop, but there were too many reasons for them. I opened the message, and yes, I was scared.

  “Call me. Urgent,” and a code.

  I showed it to Silver, and asked, “Do we have a vacant phone?”

  “I can get one from the hotel shop. There’s a coded repeater close enough we can use it. He won’t track us here.”

  I said, “Or if he can, we’re pronged.”

  She brought up a phone, and I realized I could have run that errand myself. Then I realized I was beat and hurt. Did it show? It must.

  I punched in the code and waited.

  Randall answered. “I’m calling a truce,” he said.

  “No truce,” I replied, and disconnected. I pulled Naumann’s code and was about to call when Randall called back. Good. Psychology was working.

  “They have your daughter,” he said.

  That brought everything to a complete stop.

  “What?” I said.

  “Timurhin has your daughter.”

  “How?”

  “Apparently, the discussion I had with him about who was tracing me was after he hired you. By ‘discussion’ I mean he screamed and threatened after I told him and I should have killed him on the spot, regardless of outcome. I guess he was able to track you through the same methods we use, once he knew your current name. This is my mistake. I’m calling truce. We go get her.”

  “I can’t do that.” Oh, fuck me, this was bad. Nausea gripped me at once, worse than anything I’d ever felt. My daughter. My raison d’etre.

  “Then you get to decide if you want me more than her, because I’m going to get her. You can run your own op, or team up, or kill me and lose her. Your call, tough man.”

  It took less than a second for me to agree, “Truce. Only until then.”

  “Good. You need to meet me.”

  “When do they tell me they have her?”

  “They told me. I’m supposed to salvage my honor by bringing you in. They kill you and let her go.”

  “Do you believe them?”

  “If I did we wouldn’t be talking.”

  “Smart man. We could have avoided all this if you’d been silent.”

  “Yeah, well, I learn slow.”

  “You always did. We’ll discuss that later. What do I need to know?”

  “Yeah, as if I’ll hang around for you to nail me. Meet me at the warehouse in Plainfield, corner of Wright and Industry.”

  “On my way,” I said, but he’d already disconnected.

  So this was the plan. They wanted us to face off and the best assassin win. Then they’d bribe or blackmail us into further missions, they thought.

  Under other circumstances, it would be amusing to watch them try to manipulate us. They really thought they were clever. They really thought they had leverage. My only concern was that my daughter might be roughed up, frightened, or worse, raped in the meantime. Part of that concern was that if they did so, I’d kill them all. I’d hunt them down in detail and show them what painful death really was. It wouldn’t bring her back, though. If they took her from me, I’d just start killing, and keep killing until someone stopped me . . .

  Shit.

  Under these circumstances, I had to be ice cold, try for subtlety. My goal was to get my daughter out as gently as possible.

  Then I had to kill Kimbo before he disappeared.

  Of course, he was planning to keep her alive, then disappear.

  The meat puppets of Timurhin were just bugs to be stepped on in the process. They were already dead and probably didn’t know it.

  Dammit, I couldn’t underestimate them. Some were probably former professionals. Ego had ruined me last time. I couldn’t do it again.

  And they really did have my daughter.

  I double checked that. It was easy enough, but I’d take his word on nothing.

  Her phone was shut off, out of the net. No answer at the house. Her school hadn’t seen her.

  Finally, “Andre, it’s Dan.”

  “Dan! Are you back groundside?”

  I paused a long, aching second to simulate a call from space. “Shortly. Have you seen Chelsea?”

  “Not today. There’s been an older guy around her. I assume he’s one of the guards?”

  Pause. “Ah, yes.” Dammit, no. They wouldn’t interact with her, and she shouldn’t know they were there. They also couldn’t do around the clock. They were facilities monitors and checked her whereabouts periodically. So this guy was a plant.

  “Okay, I should be back in a few days, then,” I said.

  I disconnected and slumped, shivering and twitching.

  Silver said, “What can I do to help?”

  I said nothing, but faced the wall and wondered how this had come about.

  “Is it a trap?” she asked. “Would he go after her?”

  “No. Nothing in his background for that, nothing I can imagine. Nor was he anything but gentle and fatherly around her.”

  Kimbo was right. This was his fault. He’d blown my cover, and knowing he was indiscreet, Timurhin’s people would be afraid of me doing the same. Then, they knew I was a double agent. They had no reason to trust me. That, and my pursuit had definitely antagonized Randall into some of the stunts. They didn’t really want her. She was a hook to get me. I hadn’t caused the leak, but people with that kind of money and that level of risk didn’t care about why, just what. They wanted out of the game before it got worse. They’d want me and Randall both.

  In that context, it didn’t make sense for us to show up together.

  If he had set this up, I shouldn’t go.

  But they had my daughter, and I was incapable of being rational about her.

  The problem from my end is that they’d crossed a personal line, and a professional one. I could not assume any intent not to harm my daughter. I had to break her loose, and then try for Randall.

  I said, “I need armored clothing and the most discreet tracers and phone you can give me, so you can track me as closely as you can. While I know our people are professionals, I’m not being rational, and I don’t want them interfering. She’s my daughter, I have to do this.”

  “I understand,” she said. “I need a div.” She squeezed my shoulder and strode to the door.

  I spent a div, 2.7 Earth hours, fretting and running scenarios, and packing away room service food I didn’t taste, but needed.

  When she came back, I swallowed enough stims to keep me going for a full day, grabbed the phone, swallowed the transponder, and changed quickly into the clothes. They were neutral tan and gray military style with lots of room to move, and she handed me a day pack.

  She said, “Knife, pistol, two flashbangs, spectral glasses, high strength two-millimeter cord with loops and hook, pick tools, door coder, climbing gloves and foot spikes. Naumann is standing by, and says he understands your request for him to hold off.”

  “Understands, dogshit, did he agree?”

  “Yes. ‘Tell him I understand and will be nearby waiting.’”

  “Good.” Good.

  First, meet Randall and determine bona fides. Second, kill everyone between me and my daughter. Third . . . we’d see.

  We rented a car for cash, and I let her drive. I was trembling from stress, fatigue and stims when we started. The impending fight calmed me down by the time we drove the twenty segs to the warehouse. Yes, pending life and death warfare calm me down. I am just too fucked up for words.

  “There,” I said. It was not a well-populated part of town. They were small and rich, and new construction wa
s cheaper than re-using old stuff. This building had probably been abandoned since the War.

  She drove past, I got out a block away, and walked back through the long, Ioset shadows. I trusted her to track and pursue. I hoped she wouldn’t wind up in the fight. Everyone had underestimated Randall and me.

  CHAPTER 26

  The warehouse was structurally sound, and the windows were hazed but intact. It looked well-boarded, but there was a possible entrance on the side, where had once been a delivery alley. The buildings on either side might have been occupied since the War, but were also vacant now.

  Yes, that door was functional. I found a piece of splintered wood and placed a spare tracer under it. Then I secured my pistol, took a deep breath, and pulled the door. It opened. Nothing obvious jumped at me. I paused, scanned for wires, beams, anything. It was dark and my glasses showed little.

  With a bit of distance, his voice said, “It’s safe. Come in and we’ll talk.”

  I dove in and tingled and rolled for cover. Whatever field I’d come through—

  “That’s to make sure you’re clean,” he said, and stepped out ahead of me. He was far enough anyway I couldn’t have taken him if I’d wanted to.

  Yup. Massive gauss and EM field. Some devices might survive it, but the basic tracker I had, and my phone, were fried.

  I said, “I’m a man of my word. First we get my daughter. Then we can discuss the rest.” I could shoot him here, but I didn’t know where to go, and I needed the backup.

  He approached, trying to look unworried. Good. This was going to take work, and wasn’t going to be neat, and I was going to let him use himself up.

  The universe had no place for heroes or villains.

  He said, “So, you really did care about the baby.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Odd way of showing it you had.”

  “You have intel?” I asked. This would stay professional, with me playing the sociopath.

  It bothered me at last, how easy it was for me to play that.