by Matt Doyle
“Answer her,” I say, applying some pressure to his arm. “We know why the city was built.”
“Really? It must have taken months to figure that out.”
Angel smiles, and even in the dark, the white of her teeth reveals a maliciousness Jonah wasn’t expecting. “Yes, it did. Do you know what else took me a long time to figure out? What your trigger phrase is to shut down my ability to tell when you’re lying. Just so you know, it won’t work anymore.”
“That’s…how did you…?”
“Quit stalling for time. I know full well your wife up there will have called the police by now. I’ll ask you again. Why did you really make Angela? I know it has something to do with this city.”
“I really don’t know. I got the contract, and no other information.”
“Oh, Jonah.” Angel rises to her feet and stalks across the room. She brings her face close to his. “One. You’re lying. Like I said, I cut your control over that little quirk you built into me. Two. Cassie and I really do know why the city was built. We also know how far back your relationship with Dean Hollister goes. Three. I’m beginning to get really pissed off now.
“After all that honesty I’ve afforded you, you’re still trying to lie to me. So, let me give you some more honesty. In a moment, I’m going to ask you a question. If you don’t answer it, then I swear to you, I will kill your wife and your daughter. I will make it slow, and I will make sure they are aware of every excruciating little moment of their life that drips away. It won’t be today, but it will happen. Now. Why. Did. You. Make. Angela?”
I can feel Jonah’s heart quicken. He’s taking her seriously. “Okay. Okay. She’s being groomed to be mayor. I don’t know when it’s supposed to happen. Just that it’s the overall goal.”
Angel searches his eyes and smiles and then gives him a playful pat on the cheek. “See? Was that really so hard?” She looks at me and says, “He’s telling the truth. Let’s get moving.”
I turn and shove Jonah back into the hallway he entered from and then dash out with Angel. By the time we’ve reached the car and are speeding away, sirens are coming in from behind us. I kill the lights and glance at the rear-view mirror, watching as the lights turn off towards Jonah’s house. “We got lucky.”
“Never undervalue luck, Cassie. What do you think about Angela’s future role?”
“I don’t know. I guess they want someone easier to control than a regular human.”
She laughs. “Because that worked out so well for Jonah with me. Though I suppose he did have his sneaky little vocal trick. It does mean the founders of New Hopeland are looking to increase their level of control over the city in the long term though. And in a way they’re confident is foolproof. What we need now are the plans for Jonah’s house. No, all of Lambert Drive.”
“Why?”
“Because Jonah bought the land before New Hopeland was built. I think there’s more there than we’re seeing.”
“I don’t suppose they’re in Locke’s files?”
“He doesn’t have a single set of house plans in there. Given he didn’t figure me out until the end, though, what reason would he have to play in that particular hole? No, we’re going to obtain those themselves. Or to be more precise, you’re going to have to.”
“Hang on. Why not use some King’s Guard blood to access the records?”
“Because they don’t have access to them.”
“Really? They’ve got records of who lives and owns where, but no actual plans?”
“That’s right. It makes sense if you think about it; they can access monitoring records because that’s all they need. If they need anything else, they can get them. I’m sure. Actually, that gives me an idea.”
“I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“Have some faith, Cassie. We’re almost done.”
“That’s what worries me the most.”
Chapter Seven
Looking at the New Hopeland Police Station, I can’t help but think about how few people inside know what the true nature of crime within the city is. It’s scary, really; these are the people sworn to protect and serve, but they don’t understand what it is they’re protecting or who they’re serving.
I shake the thoughts away and start making my way inside only to bump into two familiar people in unfamiliar plain clothes. “Will?” I ask, taking in his shockingly casual shirt and jeans combo. I lean forward and sniff, confirming my suspicions. “I can actually smell the hair gel. You look like a college student.”
He laughs and replies, “Today, I am. Forget William Devereaux, my name is Robert Smith. I’m studying for my Medical Technology major. Who knows, maybe I’ll find the cure for something.”
Captain Hoover, also dressed in casual attire, snorts, bristling his ever-impressive moustache. He offers a handshake, and I take it. “William Smith. I let my son here pick the names. Last time I make that mistake.”
I laugh. “Not into your retro music?”
“No, I am not. If I’d wanted to use old celebrity names, I’d have picked an obscure baseball player or something.”
“Oh, come on, Pops,” Dev chimes in, clearly relishing his role. “We’re going to a karaoke bar. I for one cannot wait to hear about your journey to Bel-Air.”
Hoove rubs the bridge of his nose and mutters, “Don’t push it or you won’t make it to Friday to be in love.”
“This is good,” I say. “You could take it on the road. Play the lifestyle bars. Earn a few dollars on the side.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Hoove says, though I can see from his smile he’s taking it all in good humour really. “What brings you here today?”
“Cheekiness. I’m running low of fuel and money, so I thought I’d come ask about a new discount code.”
He nods. “Hanson’s off doing…I don’t know, probably something she shouldn’t be. Donal’s at his desk though. He should be able to help.”
“Thanks, Will. I better not keep you chatting; kids can get a bit antsy when they don’t get where they’re going quick enough, eh?”
“Are we nearly there yet?” Dev chimes in.
“Too right. Catch you later, Caz.” As they walk away, I hear Dev say to his son, “You know, I used to feel sorry for you. Now I’m not sure how Hanson puts up with you.”
I smile and walk inside. Sure enough, Donal O’Brien, Marshal of New Hopeland PD’s Tech Shift Division, is at his desk. He seems pretty distracted. Taking full advantage, I quietly slide into the chair facing him and wait. When I get no response, I give an intentionally loud cough, startling him enough to make him physically jolt back. I’m happy with his reaction.
“Jeez, Cassie, ya near scared the life out of me.” The normally playful Irish lilt to his voice has been replaced by a weary edge.
“Sorry, couldn’t resist. You seem busy.”
“Lots of paperwork. Got called out to Jonah Burrell’s last night. You wouldn’t happen to have heard anything about some trouble up that way, would you?”
I shrug. “If I hear anything worth passing on, I’ll let you know.”
“Fair enough. So, what can I do for you?”
“I needed a new fuel discount code, and the Fresh Prince sent me your way. Figured we could catch up a little too; it’s been a while.”
He nods, locks his computer, and rises to his feet. “I’m due a break anyway. I’m the only TS guy in today, so the training room is free to chat. I’ll grab you the code from my bag while we’re down there.”
“Sounds good,” I say, and notice him sending a text message from his phone. I choose not to ask about it and instead follow on as he leads me through the station and down to the floor where the Tech Shifters train for duty. On the way, he turns cameras off remotely. “Should I be worried?”
He looks back and I nod to the camera he’s just switched off and he says, “Nosy feckers, the staff here. Ever since the LV ca
se, they always get interested when you come in. I figured, if we’re gonna chat, we may as well have some privacy. Maybe give them something to gossip about.”
“Still, I’m sure not everyone is interested in me. I’m gonna guess you know who’s listening in.”
He glances over his shoulder and catches my eye. I give a small nod in response and he turns away and sends another text. “Aye. I do that.”
We make our way into the training room, and once the cameras are all off, Donal turns to me and asks, “How are you doing?”
“I’ve had better days. What happened to Joe was…I thought he was on to me, but I wasn’t expecting him to turn up like that.”
“He wasn’t supposed to. His job was to find Angel then wait for further instructions. Honestly, I think he only went in like he did because he was pissed about her using the hallucinations on him.”
“He mentioned me speaking to him about that then?”
“Aye.”
We stand in silence for a moment, and then I ask, “Can you satisfy some curiosity for me?”
“Sure.”
“Were you always pegged for TS gear? Like, from the start, not from the public announcement.”
“I was a later recruit to the process, but it was always on the table for me. You managed to dig up that much? Does it mean you know about the way TS gear has been used here?”
Careful wording in case I don’t know yet. Clever. “I do. Can’t say I’m happy about it either.”
He nods. “And does knowing that make you feel any different about Lori?”
“Of course not.”
“Good. Other people you care about are a good tool to get you through the tougher times.”
“I quite agree.”
I spin to meet the smooth voice that responded and find myself face to face with Ethan Cobalt. I think I’ll stick with Sunglasses as a name for him. Somehow, it makes him seem less threatening. Or allows me to pretend that’s the case anyway.
“Are the tunnels clear?” Donal asks.
“They are,” he replies and turns to face me again. “I will keep this brief. Do you know what Angel Tanner’s overall goal is?”
“Angel is…strange. Sometimes she trusts me enough to tell me what’s happening, other times she’s content to test me and have me prove my loyalty. All she’s told me is she wants change. Beyond that I don’t know.”
“Do you believe Casille is a target?”
“I can’t be certain. If I had to guess, then based on how intertwined he is with everything, including Angel herself, I’d say it’s a good possibility.”
“Intertwined with everything,” he repeats. “May I ask, how much exactly do you think you know?”
“Too much.”
He smiles. “On that, we agree. Has she told you anything that may be useful to us going forward?”
“She wants me to research Jonah’s property. What’s more, she wants the original plans for the whole street. Even with unrestricted access to the systems you guys use, she hasn’t been able to find them.”
“That means she’s figured out what’s beneath his house,” Donal says. “She’s going straight for the heart.”
“Undoubtedly,” Sunglasses agrees. “I don’t suppose you know her plan of attack and just thought it wouldn’t be useful?”
“No. I do know it’s going to be soon though. She told me last night we’re almost done.”
“In a way, that could work to our advantage. If she had no knowledge of the layout of the complex, then her movements would be erratic. But if she has access to the plans, I am fairly certain I can second-guess her actions. Mister O’Brien, please arrange the necessary paperwork for Miss Tam to acquire the plans. I shall begin work on a defence plan.”
Sunglasses turns and walks away. He disappears into the back of the station’s lower floors. Donal watches him go, then places a large hand on my shoulder and says, “Come on. We’ll get you a warrant for the LGKB.”
*
I make it back to my car a little slower than I’d like. Part of that was due to making sure I wasn’t being followed; I hate being strung along. Part of it was also because I really did need the fuel discount code and was rather insistent on getting it. The car is parked a few blocks away in a public car lot. The second I sit down my cell phone goes off. I hit answer.
“A job well done,” Angel says. “I don’t expect the prospect of a direct assault to shake either Ethan Cobalt or Devin Carmichael, but it may do the others. Did you hear Ethan? He was clearly issuing a challenge there. He can second-guess me, can he? We shall soon see.”
“So, what now?”
“Well, they confirmed there’s something below Lambert Drive. From the tone of the conversation, we were right that it’s important too. The key here is to let them think they hold all the cards; they know where we’ll strike, and they think you’re still on their side. So, let’s get those plans and see what we can find. What’s the LGKB, by the way?”
“Local government key building. It’s New Hopeland lingo. The governmental monitoring offices, or GMO, do the online monitoring. The LGKB does the real-world stuff, including holding secure planning files.”
“I see. You sound off. What’s wrong?”
“We’re about to tackle the King’s Guard.”
“I promised you you’d end up in a better position than the one you started in, remember? Trust me, Cassie.”
“In that, I do. That’s the problem though. I’ve been running possibilities through my head, and I can foresee many outcomes. Some of the King’s Guard are my friends. Even with all of this…they’re good people. I don’t want them to die.”
Angel lets out a quiet chuckle down the phone. “I can make you no guarantees on that point. I tell you what. I will let you deal with as many of them as possible, how about that? As far as possible, their fate is in your hands.”
“That’s about as good as I’m gonna get.” I sigh. “I’ll get the plans and meet you back at home base.”
*
“Oh, hi, Jeremy,” I say, surprised to find one of the GMO staff working the desk at the Key Building.
“Hi Cassie. How’s Lori?”
“She’s good. What are you doing here? I thought the GMO and LGKB had different employment pools?”
“They do,” he laughs. “Turns out a lot of people have made complaints about the customer service staff here, so a couple of us are helping out while people are retrained.”
“Huh. I think a couple of those complaints may have been mine.”
“They were. I loved the one about the adviser having an abrasive attitude that made your visit akin to scrubbing your ears with sandpaper.”
“Poetic, eh? And entirely true.”
“I can imagine. I saw a few of them in action when I made my first stop by. Anyway, what can I do for you today?”
I show him the warrant set up on my phone and say, “I need copies of the original plans for Lambert Drive.”
“Fully annotated it says here. So, you’ll be wanting the updates showing what was and wasn’t built.”
“That’s right.”
“Strange request,” he comments, his hands flying over the keyboard. “I suppose PI work can get a bit odd at times though?”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
He stops typing and says, “Well, that’s odd.”
“What is?”
“It says there are no digital copies, only physical prints. Must be one of the legacy things they haven’t dealt with yet. Not to worry; we’ll just photocopy them. I’d normally go and grab those and make the copies myself, but I’ve sent the request through the internal system. They’ll be delivered straight to us in a couple of minutes. Mister Sandpaper is on duty right now, so I thought it would be a nice surprise for him.”
I laugh. “You’re cruel.”
“Sometimes. But hey, you m
ake Lori happy, so I figured you’re worthy of some fun.”
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“You said ages ago that Lori helped your family out. What did she do?”
“She hasn’t told you?”
I shake my head. “She said it was your story to tell, not hers.”
“Oh. Well, I mean, sure. You ever hear the old saying that press photographers have to take the photo first and then help?”
“Yeah. It eats at her a bit, actually, knowing she has to do things that way.”
“Well, she made an exception once. My wife flipped her car with our son Steven inside. Lori happened to be nearby doing photography for some political piece and, when she saw what had happened, stopped what she was doing and rushed over. Everyone else froze from what I heard, but Lori? She was straight in there. She got Steven out and then Teri. The car went up in flames before the ambulance got there.”
“Wow. It’s funny, but she was working with me on something recently, and she was so certain she wasn’t brave at all, not naturally. That’s incredible though.”
“She was working on instinct, she said. She stopped by to check in with us after and even helped out with the immediate costs for the hospital bills. I paid her back once I got paid, of course, but she said she didn’t want the bill hanging over us. We’ve been friends ever since. The kids love Ink, especially our youngest, Ted.”
“Ink’s really something,” I say, smiling. “It’s hard to imagine one without the other, isn’t it?”
“It sure is…ah, here we go. Thanks, Barry. You remember Cassandra Tam, right?”
“Of course,” he says through gritted teeth. “She’s one of our regular…”
“Valued,” Jeremy cuts in.
“Valued…customers. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
He scuttles off without waiting for a response, and both Jeremy and I crack up.
*