“You’re doing what?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got Vic and Matthew with me.”
“Does Hogan know? For Christ’s sake, Renne, I thought you’d dropped the whole Isabella thing.”
“I had. But Christabel Halgarth put Bernadette and Victor under surveillance as a favor for me, I didn’t even have to ask her. Both of them have been receiving and sending some encrypted messages, nothing too suspicious; but today Bernadette just dropped everything and came here. Halgarth security has her under surveillance at the Octavious hotel, which again is a strange choice for a socialite like Bernadette. We’re going to join them in the morning.” She waited for Tarlo to answer.
“Got us a hotel,” Vic said cheerfully. “Not very cheap, sorry.” He and Matthew shared a grin.
Renne waved a hand for silence. Her virtual vision showed her the link was still active. “Tarlo?”
“Yeah, hi, sorry. Do you need any help?”
“Not yet. But if we do, I’ll yell for you. And that’s a reciprocal.”
“Sure. Thanks. Okay, good luck.”
“Yeah, you, too,” she told him.
“Paula, we’ve got an interesting situation developing.”
“What is it, Hoshe?”
“I’m with Nadine and Jacob on Illuminatus, running the electronic surveillance on Tarlo while he goes after Beard. Now Gus and Isaiah have joined us; they’re monitoring Renne.”
“So both targets are on Illuminatus?”
“Yes. Renne arrived twenty minutes ago, following Bernadette Halgarth. As soon as Renne got here she called Tarlo, then five minutes later Tarlo called Bernadette. It was an encrypted message and routed through a onetime address, but for once we got lucky; we infiltrated scrutineer software into Bernadette’s hotel node as soon as Warren told me she was here. We haven’t managed to decrypt yet, but the message Tarlo sent is the one she received. It looks like Tarlo was warning her she’s under observation. There’s no other reason.”
“Tarlo. Damnit.”
“I’m sorry, Paula.”
“Not your fault. I knew it had to be one of them.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Keep a close eye on him and Bernadette. I’ll join you in a couple of hours.”
“Are you going to tell Renne?”
“Possibly. Our priority has to be getting Tarlo into custody. But I don’t want to scare off Bernadette until she’s contacted whoever she’s there to meet. This is our first real chance to penetrate the Starflyer agent network. Timing is going to be critical.”
“Tarlo’s going to be wetwired. Bernadette as well, probably.”
“Definitely. Don’t worry, my team will be armed.”
The room didn’t look like anything special, a simple cube of gray walls and a worn carpet. Two polyphoto strips in the ceiling made it brighter than it strictly needed to be. A single air-conditioning grille high above the malmetal door hissed away unobtrusively. There weren’t any sensors visible, but they had to be there somewhere.
Robin Beard sat on a cheap plastic chair with his feet up on the table that was bolted to the middle of the floor. He didn’t look particularly concerned that he’d been arrested. But then, Lucius thought, he’d been in custody so many times he was familiar with the routine. Say nothing and wait for the lawyer.
Lucius followed Tarlo into the interview room. The blond surfer gave Beard a friendly smile.
“You’re not a lawyer,” Beard said.
“Smart,” Tarlo said. “I like that. That’s going to be helpful for both of us.”
“You guys are really going to suffer for this,” Beard said. “I was walking through a garage and you restrained me for no valid reason with undue force. You didn’t even read me any rights.”
“That’s because you don’t have any,” Tarlo said.
Beard smiled.
“Sit down,” Tarlo said.
The smile flickered on Beard’s face. “I am—”
Tarlo’s fist swung fast, smashing into the small man’s nose. There was a crunch of bone breaking as the chair tipped back spilling him onto the floor, limbs all in a tangle. His head caught a nasty crack as he went down. “Jesus fucking Christ!” Beard wailed. One hand was cupping his nose, with a copious amount of blood leaking through his fingers; the other hand was probing the back of his skull. His eyes had watered.
Lucius had taken a half pace forward, then halted, unsure what to do. He glanced to the ceiling corner where one of the visual sensors was hidden. Nobody was calling him.
Tarlo grinned as he squatted down beside the mechanic. “Always hurts like a son of a bich, doesn’t it? Busted my own nose a couple of times on a board, so I know.”
Beard glanced desperately at Lucius. “You saw that. You’re my witness.”
Lucius managed to let his gaze drift away. Tarlo had told him to say nothing, but this wasn’t what he was expecting.
“We couldn’t get hold of a good cop to work this routine properly,” Tarlo said. “They’re all out on the streets helping decent citizens in these troubled times. So we’re just going to have to do the bad cop, worse cop setup instead. Know what? The boys in the office, they’re running a pool on how long you can stand up to the beating before you crack. I’ve got fifty pounds on ten minutes, but I’m gonna be on the level with you here, buddy, I’m not even going to wait that long.” He drew a slim medical infuser patch from a pocket.
“There’s quite a few street names for this; you ever heard of hardbang? No? How about painamp?”
Beard shook his head, giving Tarlo a frightened look.
“The thing is, this is like the opposite of an anesthetic,” Tarlo said. “It makes the pain progressively worse. Really, badly, worse. I mean I’ve see people screaming in agony from a torn nail when they’re tripping on this. So you can imagine what that nose is going to do to you, especially when Lucius here starts thumping it.”
“What the fuck do you want?” Beard shouted. His wide eyes were staring wildly at the infuser patch.
“We’re not police,” Tarlo said. “We’re navy. So there is no comeback for us no matter how bad this gets for you, how many of your rights we stamp on. No lawyer is going to come charging in to save you. Do you understand that?”
Beard swallowed hard and nodded.
“You will do as I tell you. Now do you want me to pump a dangerous dose of this into you? Is that the way I make you cooperate?”
Beard shook his head. The blood was running right down his grubby shirt to drip onto the floor. “No, sir.”
“Hey.” Tarlo grinned around at Lucius. “Haven’t been called sir in a long time. How about that? This man has respect. I like that.” He turned back to Beard. “So do I infuse?”
“No. No, sir, I’ll cooperate.”
“Good man.” Tarlo put his hand out. Beard gave it a mistrustful look, but eventually allowed Tarlo to help him to his feet. “You introduced a friend of yours, Dan Cufflin, to an agent who supplies people for illegal activities,” Tarlo said. “Correct?”
Beard frowned, trying to concentrate. “Yeah, I remember Dan.”
“What was the agent’s name?”
“I don’t know. He’s just the Agent.”
“Where is he?”
“Here, on Illuminatus, I think, this is where we normally meet.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. I’ve only ever met him twice, and that was in different places: bars. We normally use the unisphere.”
“Today you meet him again, in person, on Illuminatus. Fix it up. Now.”
Jenny McNowak had checked herself and Kanton into the Grialgol Intersolar hotel on Lower Monkira Wharfside Avenue, on the opposite side of the street from the Octavious, and two blocks down. After that there wasn’t much she could do apart from load scrutineer programs into arrays in and around the Octavious. The registration array was easy to hack, giving them Bernadette’s room number, 2317, as well as a list of other guests, which they ran through their
database.
After that, they’d managed to get up on the Grialgol’s roof, and position a sensor that could zoom in on Bernadette’s twenty-third-floor window. It was dark by then; there was nothing else they could do except wait.
Kieran McSobel arrived a couple of hours later, bringing Jamas McPeierls and Rosamund McKratz with him. There was enough room for all of them; Jenny had booked a suite in the Grialgol. After weeks in Rialto’s rock-bottom economy accommodation, and long stints cramped up in cheap hired cars, the suite with its luxury fittings, especially in the bathroom, was a pleasant interlude. It gave her a lot of satisfaction being in a more expensive room than Bernadette, whom Jenny had come to envy and despise for the ostentation she lived in on EdenBurg. She was looking forward to testing the Grialgol’s room service menu.
“Nothing much to report,” Jenny said as the newcomers began to set up a series of specialist arrays they’d brought with them in the suite’s main octagonal lounge. She and Kanton had arrived with almost nothing other than their standard field operation packs. Bernadette had caught everyone by surprise when she left EdenBurg.
Jamas established an e-seal around the perimeter of the lounge, then switched on a janglepulse in case there were any modified insects spying on the room. “We’re clean,” he announced.
“She’s had no visitors,” Jenny said. “And as far as we know there’s been nothing taken up to her room.”
“What about a visual?” Kieran asked, nodding at the tiny handheld array screen that was showing the grainy gray hash that was the feed from the roof sensor.
“She’s left the window screened,” Kanton said. “It’s just a standard model, twenty years old, but effective enough to keep out any passive scan.”
“So we don’t even know if she’s in there or not?” Kieran said.
“We have accessed civic sensors around the hotel,” Jenny said defensively.
“Nobody with her visual profile has left the building; our characteristics recognition programs would have caught that.”
“Understood.” He turned to Jamas and Rosamund. “That’s your first priority, try to establish if she’s still in there.”
“We’re on it,” Rosamund assured him from a plush leather armchair. Her eyes fluttered half-shut as data began to fill her virtual vision. Small holographic data blocks sprang up from various arrays spread out around her. Her hands and fingers twitched minutely as she began manipulating programs, infiltrating them into the Octavious systems.
“Our database didn’t tag any of the other residents,” Jenny said. “None of the names are known to us.”
“We should maybe try and run a comparison, see if any of them fit Isabella’s profile.”
“Good idea. We’ve got several hours of images from the civic cameras. It shouldn’t take too long to—”
“There’s someone else here,” Rosamund announced.
“What do you mean?” Kieran asked. An ion pistol appeared in his hand.
“In the Octavious arrays,” Rosamund said. “I’ve found a second set of scrutineer programs. Someone else is watching room 2317.”
“Jamas,” Kieran said firmly. “Review this hotel’s arrays, find out if we’re being watched.” He opened the base of a large case, revealing an impressive collection of weaponry. Jenny selected a gamma pulse rifle, while Kanton took a plasma grenade auto-launcher. The three of them moved smoothly to cover Rosamund and Jamas.
“Rosamund,” Kieran said. “Can you see where the other programs are sending their information? And have they noticed you?”
“Get into one of the force field suits,” Jenny told Kanton.
“No anomalous programs in the arrays on this floor,” Jamas said. “Moving the scan outward.”
“What about emissions from non-net systems?”
“Nothing detectable. But if this is the navy, we’re not going to be able to see the kind of systems they use against us. The unisphere has rumors that they’ve modified an insect that’s immune to janglepulse.”
Kanton slipped into one of the skeletonlike force field suits, wearing it outside his clothes. The thick bands adjusted themselves to achieve a balanced coverage of his body, then a thin layer of air shimmered around him as the force field came on. He nodded, and Jenny took another suit out of the case, moving quietly, as if noise alone would trigger an assault by an armed navy team.
“Kieran?” she whispered.
“Not yet.” He waved her back and holstered his ion pistol. “Kanton, open the door.” The lock disengaged, and Kieran stepped out into the corridor, holding a sensor stick casually in one hand.
Jenny had to wait in a fervor of anxiety while he checked around. He returned in less than a minute.
“Some of the occupied rooms have got their integral e-seal switched on,” he said, and held up the little sensor stick. “I couldn’t tell what was inside, not without raising the alarm. In any case, if they have any fieldcraft, they won’t be on this floor.”
Jenny let her breath ease out of her. Kieran was already giving the ceiling a suspicious stare. “We’re moving,” he said. “On foot. Jenny, pick a hotel at random. We’ll establish a safeguard perimeter before we move in.”
“All right,” Jenny said. She put the rifle back in the case and asked her e-butler for a list of hotels within a five-block radius.
Kieran was stripping off his shirt and pants. “As of now, we’re staying hot. I want everyone in force field suits worn under your clothing. Rosamund, how are you doing?”
“I think our programs might have been compromised. If I can expose their programs, they can certainly do the same to ours.”
“Can you tell where the other watchers are based?”
“No, they’ve employed some very sophisticated routing.”
“What about Bernadette? Is she in there?”
“Her room’s drawing power for lights, the air-conditioning, and the bathroom. Power use has fluctuated since she checked in, which is a good indicator of occupation. The door lock hasn’t been used since check-in, either. That’s the best I can do.”
“Fine. You and Jamas take it in turns to get into suits, then we’re out of here. Jenny, any idea who our rivals could be?”
“Other than the navy, no. But why would the navy be following Bernadette?”
“I don’t know.” Kieran sounded dubious as he buttoned his shirt over the dark bands caging his chest. “Mellanie Rescorai was warned about Isabella and her parents. It might be a news show team.”
“Or we were seen by Halgarth security,” Jamas said as he pulled the force field suit on. “Let’s face it, we were operating on their home turf.”
“If they’re watching Bernadette, it implies they’re opposed to the Starflyer,” Jenny said.
Kieran handed the last force field suit to Rosamund, and snapped the case shut. “Don’t bet your life on it.”
It was the small hours of the morning, Illuminatus time. Gwyneth Russell, who wasn’t even back on Paris time properly yet, was wide awake and relaxing in the Almada hotel’s spa bath, with bubbles foaming gently all around her. She’d just got a call from Vic, who was checked in to a hotel a mere five kilometers away. They’d talked about maybe spending a couple of hours together, but it wasn’t going to happen. Both of them were on active duty, and could be called on at any moment. Most of their talk had concentrated on the coincidence of being on Illuminatus. Vic didn’t think it was coincidence, although neither of them could think how Bernadette Halgarth could possibly be connected to the Agent. Gwyneth had suggested it might be Isabella who had the connection, and Bernadette was just here to see her. Of course, that left what Isabella was doing with the Agent.
Gwyneth sighed, and examined her hands. Her skin was starting to wrinkle she’d been soaking so long. She really should try to get some rest, ready for tomorrow. For once she thought the case was actually progressing well. Beard had set up his meeting with the Agent for the following evening. She even quietly admired the way Tarlo had bluffed him
into cooperating; that the Californian surfer could actually hit someone had been a mild surprise, but it had certainly produced a result. They were so close now to cracking the whole Guardian case open. Around the office, it was rapidly becoming a mantra; they had so much information that all they needed was the one lucky break that had eluded Paula Myo for a hundred thirty years. Her mouth lifted in a bad girl smile: the break just happened to be Beard’s nose.
Her e-butler told her Paula Myo was calling. Gwyneth grunted in surprise and told the e-butler to accept.
“Gwyneth, would you please acknowledge my authority certificate.”
A file icon with the Senate Security seal popped up in Gwyneth’s virtual vision. Her virtual hand in the colors of the old Welsh national flag reached up and touched it. For the life of her she couldn’t think what Paula was doing. The file opened up, containing Paula’s verified Senate Security authorization. “That checks out,” Gwyneth said. “What’s this about?”
“I am officially reassigning you to my interdiction team,” Paula said. “As of this moment.”
Gwyneth sat up fast, sloshing water over the edge of the big bath. “What interdiction team?”
“Senate Security has been watching Tarlo for some time. He’s just warned Bernadette Halgarth that Renne’s team is observing her.”
“He did what?”
“He’s a traitor, Gwyneth.”
“No. He can’t be.”
“I’m afraid I can’t debate this with you. We are going to arrest Tarlo.”
“You’re here?” Gwyneth slipped and slithered out of the bath, grabbing her towel.
“Yes. I require your assistance. Is there anybody in his room with him?”
“No. I don’t think so. We’re all supposed to be resting. Beard’s in custody at the precinct, and we’re not due to pick up the Agent until this evening.”
“Very well. I suggest you get into your force field suit. Don’t activate it. He’s next door, and will probably sense you switching it on.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“No. Once you have it on, please call him. He won’t suspect you, and it will enable us to verify his position. The call may also provide a small distraction.”
The Commonwealth Saga 2-Book Bundle Page 169