‘That sounds like the voice of experience.’
‘Only from observation. He murdered an old enemy not long before I got out of Veldro. He was already in for murder, so it wasn’t going to get worse if he settled an old score. He never got angry with me, and he never once touched me. Uh, well, he touched me, but he didn’t hit me. He did almost beat a guy to death for bruising my arm. Quick temper, and he said it was a grenimal problem.’
‘It is. Thadic is, if anything, a worse example of a grenimal. He likes to use a knife, if he’s got time, but he’s quite at home with an electron rifle. Put the three of them together and you’re looking at a group with the means to take thousands of humans off-world for sale into the private slave markets.’
Shil nodded. ‘I sort of hope that’s not what they’re doing, but it makes sense. I’m supposed to escort you to Earth so we can track them down?’
‘I don’t know the language or culture, and I don’t have time to learn. You know both, and you must know something about the way D’nova was operating while he was there.’
‘Yeah…’ Shil sighed. This was going to get complicated and probably painful. ‘You’re going to need to get your skin and hair changed if you want to walk around on Earth. Green skin is a bit of a giveaway.’
‘That can be arranged fairly quickly. I have a StarCorps yacht we can use to–’
‘Oh no. We’re taking the Cantarvey. She already knows how to get there and I can guarantee that her stealth characteristics are better than anything you have. We want to go in and get out without attracting too much attention, I assume?’
‘Obviously. Normally, I’d argue, but I have a feeling you could just prove me wrong. We’ll take your ship. I’ll get the cosmetic work set up for this afternoon. I imagine they’ll make me wait a few days before leaving the system.’
‘Best to get started then. If you’re right about what they’re up to, every day we’re not hunting them is a day someone on Earth becomes a slave.’
The Cantarvey, Earth System, 8th March 2016.
‘Jump completed,’ Cantarvey announced. ‘Welcome back to your home system, Shil.’
‘Thank you, Cantarvey, but this is Sheila Napier’s home system, not mine. You’ve informed Araven?’
‘She has,’ Araven said as he stepped onto the flight deck. Shil turned her head to look around at the man, and grinned. She almost suppressed a giggle as well. Araven frowned at her and continued in to take the second flight chair. ‘You are going to get over this giggling issue before we land, aren’t you?’
‘Sure. Probably. It’s just… You’re pink!’
It was true that Araven’s skin had now stabilised into a very human-looking Caucasian shade. He was tanned rather than Shil’s whiter colour, and with his hair now coloured jet black, he looked like he hailed from Southern Europe or South America. Special Circumstances had arranged identification papers for him based on Shil’s opinion of where he looked like he came from. They had also managed to duplicate Sheila Napier’s passport as well: there was no way Shil was walking around as Sheila McDermott.
Shil had spotted Araven for the first time in his human guise, and she had started giggling. Her reaction was, to her, a bit odd, as well as inconsistent. When T’ney had reverted to his natural skin tone, she had been scared. Then again, the man had turned out to be as devilish on the inside as his real exterior suggested. Sex with Narad, another red man, had become something she sort of enjoyed, and then Araven had come along… And now she found it funny to see her current lover looking like a human. It was weird how your perceptions changed as you went along. She was used to seeing people with colouring from all the way across the spectrum now, and white was unusual.
And that was an interesting point. ‘He’s going to be working out of Eastern Europe,’ she said.
‘Is there a particular reason for that?’ Araven asked.
‘Skin colour. Well, that and availability. He wants his victims white, Caucasian. I suspect he could get away with Asian, but white skin isn’t universal down there.’ She indicated the blue-and-white orb visible in the forward imaging screens. ‘The easiest sources would likely be Africa, maybe parts of South and Central America, maybe India and Pakistan, Afghanistan… But he’d be getting darker skin tones. The best places for really white people are mostly First World countries where it’s harder to vanish people. Eastern Europe is, if I’m remembering this right, a net exporter of trafficked people.’ She gave an apologetic grimace. ‘I, uh, didn’t pay too much attention to that kind of thing back when I hadn’t been made a victim of it.’
Araven gave a shrug. ‘Most people are like that, and now you care.’
‘Yeah. I still think we go at him through his old finances, but I suspect we’re going to end up heading east.’
‘Okay. My cover still holds under those circumstances, I think. How are we going to insert?’
‘I thought you knew that, Araven. You’ve done plenty of inserting before. You lie on top of–’ Araven scowled at her, though there was not a lot of heat in it, and Shil grinned. ‘T’ney hid Cantarvey in the English Channel. That’s a sea not too far from where I used to live. I figured we could do the same.’
‘Okay, but how do we get off the ship and onto dry land?’
‘Oh, that part is easy…’
London, England, Earth.
Shil wrinkled her nose and then looked around the lounge of what had been her home. The scent of takeaway food was repellent, and the place looked as though it had not been cleaned since the last time she had been there. It was nice to know she had not been replaced, or if she had, it was by someone with absolutely no pride in her home.
‘You’re sure no one will be here?’ Araven asked.
‘Brian will be at work,’ Shil replied, ‘and that’s a problem for tomorrow. Now we need to leave. One of the neighbours might recognise me, though I kind of doubt it.’
‘This is actually where you used to live?’ Araven asked, his expression speaking volumes.
‘Well, it didn’t smell like a Chinese takeaway when I lived here, and I used to keep it tidy. For example, I would never have left a copy of Playboy lying on the sofa.’ She paused and then added, ‘With a box of tissues nearby. My God, he’s really let himself go!’
‘It sounds like we should leave before you get the urge to clean.’
‘No way! My days of cleaning up after my useless, cheating husband are over. I’m not exactly sure what I’m going to do if I run into him, but it won’t be begging him to let me come back.’
~~~
‘Mister Tovar will require a suite,’ Shil said to the receptionist of the hotel they had selected, ‘with office space and business-class internet connection.’
‘We have the Hamilton Suite available,’ the receptionist replied, smiling the kind of smile Shil was sure you developed when you spent your time booking rich people in hotel rooms which cost more than your monthly mortgage for a night. ‘Two bedrooms, both with king-sized beds and en-suite, a lounge, and an office. It also comes with complimentary access to our swimming pool, gym, and spa. Does sir require anything else?’
Shil smiled her own slightly condescending smile. ‘Mister Tovar speaks no English. All queries are to come through me.’
‘Of course…’
‘The suite will be sufficient at this point.’ Shil slapped two passports and a black credit card down on the counter. Araven’s passport was Bolivian. You could say many things about StarCorps, but you could not deny that what they did, they did well. They even had a mechanism in place to support agents on a planet they would have preferred never to visit. ‘Mister Tovar has had a long journey and wishes to refresh himself as soon as possible.’
‘Oh! Of course.’
Turning her head, Shil shifted to Luris. ‘We’ll have this sorted in a minute, then we can start making plans.’
Araven, standing nearby and looking suitably bored, was wearing a three-piece business suit which looked expensively tailored
, but had actually come out of Cantarvey’s replicator that morning. ‘I think you may be enjoying this aspect of our cover far too much. I may not understand what you were saying, but I recognise the tone.’
‘I have never stayed in a hotel like this before, and I don’t get the chance to play superior secretary to a rich foreigner much. We’re trying to keep a low profile.’
‘Of course, Azeffari.’
Araven winced at the title. ‘You don’t have to call me–’
‘I’m just getting into character.’ The word meant something like ‘one I owe fealty to,’ but it was used in modern times to mean master or mistress, or owner. Shil was dressed in a red blazer which almost covered the red microskirt under it. There was a silver ring around her neck with a couple of smaller rings attached at the front to give an impression like a collar to which a leash might be attached. She turned back to the receptionist, and English. ‘Mister Tovar is pleased with the arrangement. He would like a bottle of champagne delivered to the room.’
‘Of course, Miss Napier. I’ll have that sent right up along with your luggage.’ The woman handed a couple of key cards over, along with the passports and credit card. ‘You’re on the top floor. The lifts are on your right. You will need to swipe your card for floor access. Should I send someone up with you?’
‘We can manage.’
‘Of course. Turn left out of the lift.’
Flashing the woman a smile, Shil turned around and spoke to Araven. ‘Top floor. It’s secured access too. Just leave the bags – they’ll bring them up via the staff lift.’ Then she set off for the lifts, Araven following along behind her. One of the lifts was immediately available and Shil held the door for Araven like a good little indentured servant.
‘You are enjoying this far too much,’ Araven commented.
‘Azeffari should feel free to chastise me thoroughly later. Believe me, playing at being a slave is a lot more fun than the thought of actually being one. When we’ve got our luggage, I’ll call Trent, Belknap, and Foster, and get us an appointment for tomorrow. The story is that you want them to handle your accounts in Europe. I’ll make sure we get Mister Belknap, and that’ll give me the opportunity to ask about Tony Donavan. I’m guessing that Belknap won’t even recognise me. He wasn’t paying much attention to me last time I saw him.’
‘I suspect he may pay more attention tomorrow.’
Shil grinned. ‘I think you might be right.’
9th March.
Tony Donavan’s Mayfair flat was empty. Not empty of everything, but it was empty of T’ney D’nova. Getting in had not been a difficult task: twenty-first century Earth locks were no match for the kind of equipment Shil and Araven had for cracking such things. Shil had not really expected to find the man there, but what they did find was interesting.
‘He’s been here,’ Shil said. ‘Not that long ago. A few days, I’d say.’
‘Which means he may come back,’ Araven suggested.
‘It’s a distinct possibility. I can set up a microcamera, and Cantarvey can monitor. We should take a look around. See whether there’s anything here to suggest where he’s gone.’
‘Agreed. I’m not hopeful.’
‘No,’ Shil replied, ‘neither am I.’
~~~
Charles Belknap frowned as his potential new client walked into the office, though it was not the man – ruggedly handsome and dressed in an immaculate suit, and just the kind of man Charles’s wife would like – which bothered him. No, the woman following him was the source of mild confusion: he had the strangest feeling he had seen her before, but if he had he felt sure he would have remembered. The red hair pulled into tight braids was certainly memorable. The short, red blazer-dress which did not quite hide the lace tops of her stockings was hiding a distinctly memorable figure. She looked powerful, domineering, and yet he could have sworn the metal ring around her neck looked like a slave collar…
‘Good afternoon, Mister Belknap,’ the woman said. ‘I’m Sheila Napier. This is my employer, Mister Tovar. I’m afraid he speaks very few words of English. I’ll have to translate as we go.’
‘Ah,’ Belknap said, and holding out his hand to Araven, he shifted to speaking slowly and a little loudly. ‘Good afternoon, Mister Tovar.’
‘Good afternoon,’ Araven replied, taking Belknap’s hand in a grip firm enough to leave the accountant hiding a wince. Then Araven switched to Luris. ‘Does this idiot actually think speaking louder will help me understand?’
‘Common British habit,’ Shil replied. ‘Along with enjoying being caned.’ Then, in English, ‘Mister Tovar compliments you on your efficient staff and pleasant office space.’ Araven was right: she was enjoying this far too much.
‘Thank you,’ Belknap replied. ‘We pride ourselves on our people. Please, sit down and tell me what it is Mister Tovar requires.’
‘Sit down,’ Shil said to Araven. ‘I’ll have to chatter at him for a while before I can get on to why we’re really here.’
‘I’m not sure why I’m here,’ Araven replied, taking his seat and settling into a relaxed posture. ‘You could’ve handled this yourself.’
‘Set dressing. If I turned up alone, eventually Belknap would ask where I’d been. When he figures out who I am anyway. This way, his options are limited. Besides, of course my employer would want to be here to oversee things.’
‘Yeah. Right.’
Shil switched back to English. ‘Mister Tovar is expecting to conduct a considerable amount of business in Europe in the next few years. He requires an accountancy firm capable of handling tax issues and general accounting in multiple currencies. Your company came with very good references.’
‘I see,’ Belknap said. ‘Well, we should have no issues there. Where is Mister Tovar’s main base of operations?’
‘Bolivia, but he travels extensively. My feet have barely touched the ground since I was… Uh, since I entered his employ. You understand that there may be a few cultural differences to take into account? And Mister Tovar is a very private individual. We would require the utmost discretion regarding the actual nature of his accounts.’
‘Of course. All our clients are handled with the maximum of confidentiality afforded by law. We can meet almost any requirements. Might I ask who recommended us?’
Oh, this was going to be easier than she had thought. ‘Anthony Donavan. Mister Tovar was hoping to meet him while we are in London, but it seems that he’s out of town.’
‘Ah, yes. Mister Donavan has been a client of ours for a while. His business takes him all over the world. He was actually here recently. We’ve been handling some transactions for him. Money movements. He dropped in… late last week.’ Belknap paused. ‘Have we met before, Miss Napier?’
Shil smiled, trying to make it look timid. ‘I attended one of your parties last year. That’s actually where I met Tony.’
‘Oh! Well, let’s get down to some specifics. Perhaps I can invite you and Mister Tovar to another party when the deals are done.’
‘Perhaps.’ Shil glanced at Araven and said, ‘He was here last week. He’s been moving money offshore, by the sounds of it.’
‘Interesting, but where to?’ Araven replied.
‘Getting that out of Belknap won’t be easy. I think we’ll do it another way. Oh, and Belknap wants to invite us to a sex party when we’ve signed up.’
‘If you were an example of a typical human, that might be interesting, but I think that’s very unlikely. I’ll stick with just you, if that’s okay?’
Shil turned back to Belknap and smiled. ‘Mister Tovar would be honoured to attend. Now, our initial European investment is planned for April and should amount to…’
~~~
Shil leaned back from the laptop she was working on, raised her arms over her head, and stretched. Araven watched this display from an easy chair in the office. He was hopeful that the motion meant she had found something, but it was also a rather pleasing sight. She had been busy cracking the network s
ecurity at Trent, Belknap, and Foster for the last six hours, with some help from Cantarvey.
‘Okay,’ Shil said, ‘there’s not much, but it gives us something to work with.’
‘What?’
‘The money transfers were to an account in Romania. I have the bank information, but that’s not going to be enormous help, because banking security is a lot better than Belknap’s, and we don’t have weeks to crack this. I think we fly to Bucharest and see whether we can track T’ney from there. I have the name of the law firm he’s using. We can start there.’
‘Bucharest. Another city?’
‘Nothing like this one, but it’s a city. One interesting point I checked up on while I was digging. The primary sources of trafficked humans in Europe are Romania and its neighbouring country, Moldova. It’s looking more and more like T’ney is involved in smuggling humans off-planet.’
‘You know, I find it interesting that you still call him T’ney.’
Shil gave a shrug. ‘He was Tony, a guy I met at a party who treated me like I was an attractive woman. And then he was T’ney, who wasn’t so nice, but he was basically the only person I knew on an alien planet. He was… is a manipulative bastard, but… Did StarCorps come here looking for him last local year?’
‘There was no operation that I’m aware of. I’m the first corpsman to set foot here in years. Whatever years you happen to be using, nothing’s been sanctioned here for several of them. I suspect he simply used us to scare you into submission.’
‘Yeah, I was coming to that conclusion. More set dressing. He wanted me to think he’d saved me, right up until the point he sold me. Taking him alive is going to be really hard, Araven.’
Araven gave a shrug. ‘We need this handled as quietly as possible. We’re not supposed to be here any more than he is. One of the reasons this is being handled as a Special Circumstances case is that we know it will be hard to bring in the three of them alive while keeping off the local radar.’
‘Huh. I’ll get us a flight booked, and then I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember my name, never mind T’ney’s.’
The Eyes of the Huntress Page 17