“I suppose you’re right.”
“But we’re going to go find out for certain, aren’t we?”
Carson grinned. “You bet your furry behind we are.”
“Why would I make such a wager?” Marten said, but grinned. “And it’s not that furry.”
11: Meeting in St. Louis
St. Louis Maglev Station, Earth
To the casual observer—to the extent a casual observer would even care about such things—the grey-clad man sitting on a bench in the St. Louis station with his omni unfolded to a slate was watching a vid, or perhaps reading a book. What he was really watching was the progress of a bright blip superimposed over a diagram of the station, said blip slowing to a halt beside the platform of the eastbound track. Mr. Lee had arrived.
The grey man stood up and folded his omni lengthwise then wrapped it around his wrist, shrinking the screen to a couple of centimeters and turning it to the inside of his wrist. Glancing at it periodically, he made his way to the platform. He reached it just as passengers began debarking. He checked it again. The bright blip had divided into two, one brighter than the other. Damn, Lee must have dropped a tag. Except, they were both moving. Crap.
Grey hustled his way upstream through the exodus of passengers to the car where the blips were. One of the blips was still mid-car, but moving around. Gathering up his bags? That was unlikely to be Lee, why would he have luggage? The other was near the end of the car, exiting. Grey scanned the crowd. The text he’d received described Lee as wearing a blue jacket, but with smart fabrics so popular, that didn’t count for much. Even as he watched, a teenager passed wearing a shirt which displayed an animated scene from some currently-popular vid. He kept scanning.
There, a tall man in a dark suit. He checked his screen, but the bright blip was elsewhere. Not the suit. He looked at the screen again. The blip was moving, almost directly beside him now. He turned quickly . . . to encounter a shorter, elderly gentleman who was startlingly overweight. He sneaked a look at his screen again. No question, this old guy was tagged, but equally it couldn’t be Lee. Damn!
Another check showed that the other blip—that had to be Lee—was about to leave the train. Grey moved close to the exit then turned and casually scanned the crowd as though looking for someone. He was, of course, but he didn’t want Lee to suspect who. A young woman stepped off the train. Lee must be right behind her.
There was nobody behind her. Grey checked the scan again. The blip was moving off towards the escalator. He looked up. It was the woman.
∞ ∞ ∞
“Reid here,” the voice came over Grey’s omniphone in answer to his call.
“We lost him.”
“What? And don’t you mean you lost him?”
“No. As far as I can tell he wasn’t on the train.” That pushed the truth; he might have slipped off with the first passengers. Grey had been watching the scanner blips, and didn’t know for sure that he would have recognized Lee from the picture he’d been sent. Not that Reid needed to know that. “The tags were on two different people, he must have found them.”
“You’re sure he wasn’t in the crowd?”
“How could I be? Out of that many people?” Grey thought for a moment. Did he want to mention it? “There was one guy in a dark suit about the right build . . . but no, if Lee had spotted his tags and transplanted them, he wouldn’t have stayed that close.”
“You’re probably right.” There was a pause and Grey heard a muffled sound, as though Reid had cursed under his breath. “All right, stay at the station and scan the crowds, we might get lucky.”
“He probably bailed in Kansas City. He shouldn’t have been tagged so early.”
Reid might have agreed but didn’t say so. “We take opportunities when they present themselves.”
And, Grey considered, if the job had been done right Lee would never have noticed. He didn’t know who their man—or woman—on the train was, and he didn’t bother asking. If Reid thought he had a need to know, he’d be told.
“Regardless,” Reid continued, “stay at the station and await further instructions. And keep an eye out while you’re there.”
“Okay, got it.” He clicked off his omni and scanned the figures of the thinning crowd on the platform. It was probably futile, and he considered just going somewhere to grab a bite to eat, but the favor he’d gain if he did happen to spot Lee could be worth it. He wasn’t sure who this Lee was to the higher-ups, but he was obviously worth something. He followed the last of the crowd to the escalator.
∞ ∞ ∞
Velkaryan HQ, Earth
“Our ‘Mr. Lee’ seems to be skilled in tradecraft,” said Reid. “He spotted our tags and planted them on two other people. We didn’t realize it until we noticed the signal split after the train arrived. It looks like he left the train in Kansas City, too. We didn’t spot anyone like him leave the train in St. Louis.”
“Did he now? That’s interesting. Hubble paused for a moment. “Our man on the train must be clumsy. Talk to him.”
“Yes sir.” The ‘talk’ would be unpleasant for both of them, although much less so for Reid.
“Do think Lee will skip the meeting?” Hubble asked.
“No, but he’ll be cautious.” Reid checked his omni. “If he got a car he could still make it in time. But when he gets there he’ll be watching for watchers.”
“All right, let’s leave him some space. I assume we have access to the cams?” Almost every public space was viewed by one or more cameras, some of them security cams of various agencies, many of them keyed to advertisers’ face recognition systems to dynamically swap the content of billboards depending on who was looking at them. Most could be accessed through some combination of hacking, bribery, or commercial data swapping agreements. Access enough of them in a given area, have some smart software compare the feeds, and you could track anyone who came and went within sight of any of the cams.
“Already set up.”
“Good. Tell whoever we have there to pull back but stay in the vicinity in case we need them.”
“Need them? For what?”
“I don’t know. But it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. In fact, get yourself out there ASAP and take over the op. Use the jet.”
Reid nodded. “All right, I’m on my way.” As he turned to leave Hubble’s office, he pulled out his omni and started making calls.
∞ ∞ ∞
St. Louis
The car slowed as it neared St. Louis Station and announced: “We are reaching your destination, Mr. Lee. Will you be requiring further service or shall I check myself in?”
Uppity robot, Rico thought, and said “That will be . . . no, wait. Remain on standby, go park yourself somewhere for the next,” he glanced at his omni, “three hours, or until I summon you. If you don’t hear from me before that, then consider yourself returned.”
It seemed as though the car paused a moment longer than usual to parse that. “As you wish. Please be aware that a surcharge of—”
“Yeah, fine. Authorized.” Three hours put him past the time he’d originally agreed to return the car, but it might come in handy.
The car pulled to the curb at the station entrance and opened the door. Rico got out and turned to close the door, but it was already closing on its own. As soon as it had, the car pulled out and joined the traffic stream, presumably to find a parking spot. Rico grinned. It was almost as though the car didn’t like him. He turned back to enter the terminal building, casting a quick glance over anyone in the area. It was quite likely that one or more of them didn’t like him, either.
∞ ∞ ∞
“Reid here.” He was aboard one of the Velkaryan corporate aircraft, an hour out from St. Louis.
“A person matching Lee’s description has just entered the St. Louis Station,” the voice on his omni said.
“Anything else?”
“We were able to use the cams to backtrack his movements. He arrived by vehicle which then parked it
self. Kansas registration, we’re working on the details.”
“That’s probably our man. Keep tracking him but from a safe distance. He’ll be alert for anything funny, especially after getting tagged on the train. See who he meets.”
“We’re on it.”
∞ ∞ ∞
Rico had an advantage over his contact; he knew who he was looking for. He’d met Burkhardt once when Hopkins was doing a deal. “Met” was probably putting it too strongly; Rico had been in the background as one of Hopkins’ toughs. He wasn’t introduced, and it’s unlikely Burkhardt would remember him even if Rico hadn’t had his face altered to become Richard Lee.
Not that either of them were relying on being recognized. They’d agreed to a meeting code, a twenty-digit number being broadcast by their respective omnis. The omnis would guide them to each other when they got within range. It was a standard feature.
Rico’s omni began beeping quietly to him about halfway through the terminal. He noted the direction it indicated and walked quickly at an angle to that, checking the direction again in a dozen meters. He mentally triangulated the signals to come up with a convergence near several rows of seats. Of the individuals seated there, Rico didn’t recognize any of them. Had it been a setup and not Burkhardt after all?
He walked across the terminal, occasionally darting a glance at the bench. There, the man on the second seat kept looking towards him, alternating that with glances at his omni. That was probably his man.
Rico studied him. The face and hair were unfamiliar, but the broad shoulders could have been Burkhardt’s . . . or anyone else muscular. Rico started to move away, reaching to kill the homing signal on his omni, when the man stood up. Standing, the man looked more familiar, and when he started walking towards him, Rico recognized the stride and realized that the man could have had some face work of his own.
“Lee?” Burkhardt asked.
Rico gave a quick nod. “Burkhardt?”
“Let’s walk,” Burkhardt said, continuing his stride with barely a pause. Rico fell in beside him.
“I understand you may be able to help me acquire something for a client,” Rico began.
“Perhaps. You mentioned a mutual friend. How is, er . . .”
“Hopkins?” Rico guessed this might be Burkhardt’s way of double-checking Lee’s story.
“Exactly.”
“I haven’t heard from him in a while, he went off on another collecting trip.”
“Yes, collecting often takes one to unusual places.”
You don’t know the half of it, thought Rico. “Right. My current client is also a collector, looking for certain historical papers. A blue book, in fact.” He’d made that information known to his contact on Luna, but this helped ensure there was no confusion.
“Surely whatever information is in such a book can now be found on the net?”
“He prefers original source material.”
Burkhardt nodded. “Yes, that’s usually the mark of a true collector. That does raise the scarcity factor, though.”
“Yeah. Do you know where I might find such an item?”
“Would it have to be an original, or would an exact—and contemporary—replica do?”
Rico considered this. If an original copy was made back in the day, then it should have everything needed. But Brown had complained about the microfilm. “That depends. My client has been very disappointed with microfilmed copies of historical documents. It would have to be something as readable as the original.”
“I think I can locate what you’re looking for. There would be a finder’s fee, of course.”
“Of course.” Rico hadn’t expected anything less.
“And for an extra fee—a considerably larger fee, I’m afraid—I can negotiate the acquisition and delivery of same.”
Since the money wasn’t his, Rico was tempted. But no, he kind of enjoyed hands-on work, and preferred to avoid the risk of somebody else screwing it up. “Thanks, but I can probably make my own arrangements for retrieval and shipping. I’ll let you know when you get me the location.”
“Very well. If you change your mind?”
“I’ll keep you informed. I may need some services short of delivery.”
“That would be acceptable. Now, as to the specific location, I’ll have to make some calls. It won’t take long.”
That didn’t really surprise Rico. Why take a risk on being grabbed and forced to disclose the information for free, if it was that valuable? He might have done the same. They concluded details of paying the “finder’s fee” and doing an exchange for the location data.
∞ ∞ ∞
“All right, that’s our man. Who is the other?”
“His name’s Burkhardt. He has some contacts in common with Hopkins, that’s probably how they made the connection.”
“Can he provide what he says he’s selling?”
“Hard to say. The general location certainly, the specifics perhaps not. We can trace his contacts.”
“That’s worth doing, in case we have a leak, but right now let’s take out Burkhardt.”
“What about his follow-up meeting with Lee?”
“Reid will be at the station in a half-hour. He’ll make the meeting.”
“Will Lee go for that? Or recognize Reid?”
“Reid was pretty sure that Lee wouldn’t remember him from the Southern Sky, he avoided contact. As for the deal, Reid’s got a cover story and more importantly, the information that Lee wants. It should do.”
∞ ∞ ∞
Rico was waiting near the designated meeting spot in the St. Louis maglev station when a man he didn’t recognize approached him.
“Mister Lee? Burkhardt sent me. I have the information you requested.”
“What happened to him?”
“Plausible deniability. You make the second installment to me.”
Rico didn’t like it. He suspected a trap. “I’d be more comfortable if he’d told me that himself.”
“Of course you would. He said to tell you that Hopkins would understand. Of course, if you’d rather not do business . . .”
Hopkins? So perhaps they knew more about ‘Lee’ than they were letting on, or else Burkhardt really had bailed out. Either way, he’d be out half the “finder’s fee” if he just walked from the deal. Not that it was his money, and these guys might be Velkaryan. What the hell.
“I didn’t say that. If you have what I want . . .” Rico looked at the new guy expectantly.
“Information about a certain blue book?”
Rico nodded.
“All right,” said Reid, “here’s the deal. The originals of what you’re looking for are in archival storage in a mine in Pennsylvania. ”
“A mine?”
“It was converted to a data storage facility, name of Steel Mesa, over a century ago. Thousands of cubic feet of records. Paper, digital, you name it. One section is partitioned off for government storage, but good luck on getting into any of it.”
“Assuming someone got in, then what?”
“Then you’d have to locate what you want. There is an online index, but it’s keyed by box number, not file names. Bear in mind that the complete Blue Book files take up a lot of boxes.”
“Wasn’t it ever digitized?”
“The microfilmed versions were, yeah, but never the original paper, according to our sources.”
Rico thought about that. Sneaking into the facility would be no easy task. Even if there were something like forgotten air shafts or other back door entrances, the place would be rigged with temperature and humidity sensors at the very least, and probably motion alarms and cameras. He would have to get the exact location of the material—although this man might have that information—and find his way to it. Then he’d have to get multiple boxes out of the facility, which would take a truck. The place was surely manned around the clock, there didn’t seem to be any way to do it by stealth.
“Can you retrieve it?”
“Not
easily, I’m afraid. Of course we’d be happy to consider a joint venture with you, for the right investment.”
“In other words, you’ll help if I come up with a plan and a bankroll.”
“Just trying to be of service,” the man said.
An overt smash and grab didn’t even bear thinking about. The place could probably withstand a nuclear blast, and he had no desire to try fighting his way in and out of a mine.
On the other hand, there had to be some way for customers to retrieve the stuff. He’d just have to get the employees to do it for him. He needed to do some recon first, to see what was possible. He wondered if they had something for tourists.
“All right,” he said. “Give me all the details you can, and some way to contact you. I might need a hand.”
12: Verdigris
Outer fringe of the Delta Pavonis system, aboard Sophie
“. . . to 100 cee. Contact Verdigris Station on 213.4 at one AU. This is Delta Pavonis Beacon ATIS. Traffic entering the system is authorized to use warp outside of 2 AU clear of the ecliptic.” The announcement came over the receiver as soon as they’d dropped out of warp. It began to repeat: “Limit speed to 100 cee. Contact Verdigris Station on —”
Jackie muted the receiver. Nothing new since the last time she’d been here, and all the important details would have already downloaded from the beacon’s data channel. This was still considered a frontier world, but there was enough traffic to warrant some control.
She checked their position and touched a sequence on the control panel. The attitude jets pulsed with a muffled whump and the Sophie began to rotate into position for their next jump.
“Okay folks,” Jackie called back to her passengers, “a few more minutes in warp and then we cruise the rest of the way in normal space.”
“Ugh,” muttered Marten. “How long will we be in free-fall?” Marten’s ancestry had never included tree-swinging primates. To him, zero gee meant his body continuously screamed danger, falling!
“Another minute right now until we’re back in warp. We have plenty of fuel, though, so we can do most of the normal-space trip under constant acceleration if you like.”
The Reticuli Deception (Adventures of Hannibal Carson Book 2) Page 6