by Terry Mixon
“Done,” Johnson said at once. “I’ll call security to send a few people down to escort us around. What kind of process will this need?”
Wandry spoke up. “I can get a return within about fifty meters. That will allow me to pinpoint the com to about half a meter.”
The scientist pulled a device from her pocket. “This is it. All I have to do is press the button and it sends out a signal. If the com is within range, it will let me know with a chime.”
She pressed a button and the device chimed.
All of them stared silently at the woman for a long moment.
Governor Johnson spoke first. “You’re telling me that the com the slavers signaled is within fifty meters of my office right now?”
“Apparently so,” Wandry said, her tone bemused. “Off in that direction about forty meters.” She pointed.
“That’s my special assistant’s office,” Johnson said quietly. “Jack Mader. You’ve met him, Captain. He’s been with me for almost two decades in one position or another. Are we seriously saying he works for the slavers?”
Considering his dislike of the man, Brad certainly hoped so. Taking him into custody would be a real pleasure.
“There’s one way to find out,” Brad said as he stood. “Let’s go ask him.”
“No. Let me get security down here first. If he is a slaver, this might turn violent. Then we can be sure he doesn’t have a chance to try anything.”
The governor called for security, indicating it wasn’t an emergency. “No need to get everyone excited. That might tip him off.”
They all waited impatiently for the requested security team, and then the governor led the way to Mader’s office. The young woman at the desk out front smiled at them. “Oh, Governor! You just missed him. He stepped out to see someone about a project.”
Johnson smiled. “That’s fine, Sarah. Could you call him for me? I really need to have him come back right now.”
“Certainly.” The woman pressed a button on her com and waited. Mader didn’t answer.
Brad looked at Wandry. “Is the com still in there?”
The woman checked. “Yes.”
Johnson pushed past the desk and into Mader’s office.
Brad put his hand on his pistol, but it didn’t matter. There was no one there. Based on the open cabinets and hastily searched contents, he wasn’t coming back, either. Two coms sat on the desk. One was probably the disposable and the other had to be his official unit.
The governor turned to the security team. “Seal the building. I’m issuing a detention warrant for Jack Mader. Find him.”
Twenty minutes later they had the official word. Mader was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brad watched the security monitor as it showed a recording of Jack Mader departing the government center. The man didn’t seem to be in a hurry as he made his way past security, even seeming to joke with the guards as he hefted a bag over his shoulder.
He could only imagine what the man had inside the bag.
Falcone wanted the man and his goodies very badly. She and the governor were working feverishly behind the scenes to lock Io down and locate the traitor. Governor Johnson took lead because Falcone still didn’t want her participation known.
Brad didn’t think they were going to catch the man, even though they’d only missed him by a few minutes. The bastard had clearly prepared an escape plan, and he’d executed it coolly under pressure. No, he was probably already off Io.
He really hoped he was wrong. He hadn’t liked the man from the first moment and would love to have a heart-to-heart chat with him about the slaver attacks. His escape left a bitter taste in Brad’s mouth.
Still, he had to play this as if the man was already gone and assume he’d warned any co-conspirators about his cover being blown.
Brad stepped over to where Falcone and Governor Johnson were listening to a woman from Io Security drone on about all the measures they were putting into place that would certainly stop Mader from escaping.
“He’s gone,” Brad whispered in Falcone’s ear.
She nodded minutely. “I know,” she said softly.
“We need to get into his place and see if we can find anything. Then we need to move on Breen. Maybe we need to do that first.”
“Already ahead of you. This isn’t our week. Breen is off Ganymede on a business trip. Been gone two weeks already. They don’t expect him back for as long as a month more.”
They just couldn’t catch a break. “What do we do in the meantime?”
“We carry on with the plan.” She turned her back toward the presenter to give them privacy. “We’ll search Mader’s place. Maybe we’ll get lucky.
“Then we head for Ganymede and break into Breen’s place. We keep that low-key. He has no reason to avoid coming back home. We can pick him up then.”
Brad considered her for a long moment. “Do you think we’ll get lucky?”
The woman snorted. “Bad luck, maybe. When I joined up, my partner told me the best attitude to have was to believe that everything was going to go wrong and none of the promising leads would pan out. Then I’d be thrilled when something broke my way. He was amazingly prescient.”
“What’s the plan on getting into Mader’s house?”
“The governor already swore a warrant out against him, so all we need to do is let Io Security move in. We’ll go with them and turn the place upside down.”
That took a lot longer than Brad expected or wanted. It seemed the bureaucrats in security had plenty of paperwork to fill out. More than two hours passed before they made entry into Mader’s home.
Palatial didn’t begin to cover it. The exterior looked well-to-do but concealed a surprisingly opulent interior. Lush furnishings sat on deep carpets made of only the best materials. Works of art that rivaled the collection in the governor’s offices adorned every wall and more niches than one could easily count.
“Being a special assistant pays better than I’d expected,” Brad said as he looked around.
The security detectives were already fanning out to take images of everything, leaving him standing near the entrance with Falcone and Governor Johnson.
“Not this well,” Johnson ground out between clenched teeth. “Not even close. If I’d had any doubts the man was in someone’s pay, I don’t anymore.”
“We need to get to his home office,” Falcone said. “Forgive me if I don’t exactly trust your security people not to trip something and wipe his system.”
She led them on a quick search through the house, revealing even more lavishness. So much so that Brad wondered if the man ever expected to be found out. No way he’d have been able to cart any of this away with him. He had to have known he’d be forced to abandon a lot of money at some point.
Or had he expected to get away with everything? That seemed overly optimistic, but the Cadre and slavers had had their way for years.
They found his office in a sublevel. The smell of burned equipment told him it was a smoldering ruin before they entered it, however. It had been ultramodern and extremely well equipped.
“He came back here and made sure we wouldn’t get anything,” Falcone said in a low voice as she looked around at the destruction. “Dammit.”
“Impossible,” Johnson said. “I dispatched security to watch this place first thing. He couldn’t have moved in and out so fast.”
Brad leaned over and looked at one of the ruined comps. “This wasn’t smashed. Someone set off a small charge inside it. It was rigged to self-destruct.”
“He might’ve done this remotely,” Falcone suggested. “One call and he could wipe everything and then blow it. That’s what I’d have done.”
“I’ll have my people go over everything, but that’s going to take time,” Johnson said with a bitter sigh. “At least I know how the damned Cadre always knew what I was doing. Mader was involved in everything. I trusted him completely.”
Falcone turned to him. “We don’t have ti
me to waste. If Mader was in league with Breen, he might be on his way to Ganymede even as we speak. If he wrecks any evidence there, we’re back to where we started.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Johnson asked.
Brad considered that and nodded. “Yes. If I take Heart to Ganymede, it might raise some eyebrows. Could we borrow Marie Curie and her crew for a little while? They might prove invaluable in getting data out of Breen’s systems without leaving too many tracks.”
Johnson nodded decisively. “Use them as long as you need. I’ll do anything I can do to stop these bastards or catch Mader. I can intercede with the government on Ganymede, too, if you need it.”
“Let’s hope they never realize we were there,” Falcone said. “That’s the only way we’re going to get to the slavers or the Cadre. We have to work in the shadows. If they see us coming, they’ll scatter and we’ll never catch them all.”
Their arrival at Ganymede was low-key. Marie Curie docked without incident and let her crew off for leave. Brad and Falcone dressed in the same bland jumpsuits as the ship’s crew and came out with a number of people dressed just like them.
The scientists had preceded them out, their clothes seemingly designed to draw the eye but not in a good way.
Brad wasn’t sure why brilliance and good taste in clothing seemed to never travel in the same company, but the civilians were adorned in a wild array of colors and styles that didn’t even come close to matching, even on the same individual.
Perhaps they’d done it intentionally. It certainly served to draw every eye on the docks. No one noticed Falcone or him slipping away from the rest.
She led him on a circuitous path to be certain no one was tailing them. Half an hour later, she declared them clear.
They rented a small room suitable for visiting crewmen who were tired of the ship life but too poor to afford good accommodations. The room held a single bed, large enough to suggest a second class of patron. Everything had a worn appearance. The place hadn’t received new furniture in a long while, it seemed.
Looking at the bed, Brad was glad he wouldn’t really be sleeping on it. At least he hoped not.
“What now?” he asked, taking a cautious seat on a rickety chair.
“We change and go scout Breen’s neighborhood. You first. I still need to see about getting some equipment.”
He stepped into the dingy bathroom and winced. “I wouldn’t count on coming out of this place cleaner than you came into it,” he said as he started stripping.
“That was kind of the point,” she said. “No one will give us a second glance here. Or ask any awkward questions.”
Brad wasn’t certain that would be the case when they left. His change of clothes was of significantly better quality than the crew uniform. It had to be so they could blend into the high-class neighborhood Breen lived in.
Once he was dressed, he packed the shipsuit into a small bag that wouldn’t stand out and stepped back into the bedroom.
Falcone was just finishing up something on her wrist-comp and stood. “Perfect timing. We’ll get out of here and meet up with my contact as soon as I change. He’ll have everything we need.”
She ducked into the bathroom and made a disgusted noise. “You weren’t kidding. What a dump.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were walking out of the hotel, hopefully never to return. Their clothing drew curious glances, but no one messed with them as they made their escape. From the knowing leer the hotel clerk gave them, they’d been classed under “discreet affair”—and the only thing better than going completely unnoticed was being put into a box and forgotten.
The agent led him to a shop dealing in secondhand comps in a working-class section of the city. She paused as she started to go inside.
“Wait out here and keep lookout. I should only be ten minutes or so. If I’m not back in fifteen, go back to the ship.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you expecting trouble?”
She shook her head. “Not really, but you never know. This guy fences stolen goods, so he might do something unexpected. He’s not on our payroll. Just someone we’ve used as a supplier in the past. Without his knowledge, of course.”
“Ah. I’ll hit the café across the street and get us some coffee. That’ll let me linger a bit. If you don’t come out in fifteen minutes, I’ll come in after you.”
Falcone patted his cheek. “That’s so sweet. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
He wagered she could.
Brad sauntered across the street and bought two coffees to go. Then he took up a table with a view of the shop.
As she’d predicted, it took Falcone about ten minutes. She walked out, her oversized handbag virtually bulging with stuff.
“What’s in the bag?” he asked as he handed her the second coffee. “And this is surprisingly good coffee.”
“Tools of the trade, so to speak. Everything I need to bypass Breen’s security and get past his locks.”
Brad raised an eyebrow. “And it all fits in there? Impressive. I’m shocked it all comes as a kit.”
She shot him an amused glance. “It’s not like that at all. I told the guy what I needed, and he put it together for me.”
“Out of materials on hand.”
“That is his job in this part of the underworld. Buying and selling stolen goods, as well as getting gear for those who need and can afford his services.”
“For anyone who walks in off the street?”
She shook her head. “Absolutely not. I have impeccable references. Otherwise, he’d have sent me packing while pretending he had no idea what I was talking about.”
It was getting into the local evening, so they didn’t cause too many raised eyebrows as they transitioned to Breen’s neighborhood. The homes here were mostly behind protective—though decorative—barriers.
Breen’s home was aboveground, a luxury in a place that normally used below-ground accommodations. The exterior boasted imported wood and quarried stone from Mars. A true statement about the man’s wealth.
It struck Brad as not being coincidental that neither Breen and Mader seemed to care if they displayed signs of their wealth. Though, to be fair, Mader had kept his behind closed doors.
“Any word on how wealthy Breen is?” he asked. “This is pretty blatant.”
“He’s actually the majority shareholder in Astro Transport. He doesn’t spread that around, but anyone that cares can dig it out.”
“I just don’t get that. Why was he selling out his own employees? Louisiana Rain was his liner.”
She shrugged. “Who knows? Insurance? Someone on the ship knew too much? We’ll ask him when we put him in an interrogation room. Right now, we need to get into his place and find something that will let me space him and everyone else he works with.”
Brad didn’t notice anyone watching, but he still felt as if everyone could clearly see what they were up to. Frankly, he wished he could watch Falcone work. As a former security officer, he’d love to know how she bypassed locks and security systems with such ease.
A minute later, she opened the front entrance and he gratefully followed her inside. The foyer was dark but she pulled a tiny light from her bag and scanned around for anything of concern. They looked clear so far.
“I’ll lock the door and rearm the security system,” she said quietly. “That way, if anyone checks, everything will look good.”
He stepped over to the stairs while she accomplished that. They led up, but he was relatively sure the door under them led to another set of stairs going down, just based on how it was positioned. And the fact that it had a second security system.
“Up or down?” he inquired when she stepped over to him.
“Down.”
This time, he kept one eye on her and was impressed by both the equipment she used and her skill at manipulating it. This system took several minutes for her to bypass. He wondered if that meant it was of higher quality than the one on the house
itself.
Once the light turned green, she unlocked the door under the stairs and opened it. There was indeed a wide set of stairs going down.
He started to say something pithy but froze when the security system on the front door beeped and then shut down.
Someone was coming in behind them!
Chapter Twenty-Six
Brad followed Falcone into the stairway heading down, closed it behind them, and locked it. There was a simple security control beside the door that allowed him to arm the system with the touch of a button, so he did.
Once that was done, he checked the display. It offered him two exterior views: right outside the door and into the foyer. He chose the latter and watched the front door open. Two men in private security uniforms came in.
They didn’t seem overly concerned, so he doubted they had triggered any kind of alarm.
“Mark us down as having checked the place,” the older man said to his young companion.
The kid frowned. “Shouldn’t we do a walkthrough?”
“The owner is off Ganymede. He’ll never know. Besides, the security system was armed. No one came in.”
That seemed to offend the young man. “At least check the interior system. There’s a note that we have to look at it every time. It says it’s right over here.”
He walked over and looked at the door Brad and Falcone hid behind. “It’s on.”
“See? All secure,” the older man said. “Just like I said. We can lock the place up and be back to the office early.”
“After we check the other houses on our list,” the kid said repressively. “I need this job. I’m not going to screw off because you want to get back to the video screen.”
“I was like you once, kid. You’ll get over it.”
Brad let out a slow breath once the two had armed the exterior security system and departed. “That was close.”
“We could’ve been away from the door and fine even without this hole to hide in,” she assured him. “You’re talking like the kid. Why worry when everyone else screws off?”