by Steve Rzasa
“The Park Towers,” Hildy commented. “Better environs than I was expecting for a lowlife like him. Nice call on that restaurant filter, Tower.”
A cam shot of Dunn appeared, pulled from one of the restaurant’s interior cams, complete with a time and date stamp. Tower thought he would have no problem remembering the face. The man’s face was long and thin, in which a deep-set right eye squinted, dark and brooding. The left eye was the one that had been replaced, it protruded a little and was shamelessly borg, with shimmering metal in the place of any natural-looking prosthetics.
“There’s your boy, boss.”
Zoomed in, Dunn’s face was craggy, pockmarked, and undepilated. His clothes were rumpled and stained; it did not appear that laundry or external appearances were a significant concern for him. That bothered Tower. Even for a criminal, Dunn seemed to be on the wrong side of down-and-out to be dealing in very expensive high-tech weapons.
Hildy put the mug shot from five years ago up next to the current image. It was evident that during the intervening period, time had not been kind to Mr. Dunn. “Prioritizing the quadrants around the restaurant. All flocks are now searching in a concentric pattern centered on the hit from three days ago.” Her voice was barely a whisper among the holographic cathedral of flickering lights.
Tiny portraits of Dunn began popping up at a handful of different points throughout the nearby areas. Tower glanced from one to the next, as Baby magnified the time and date of each. A pattern rapidly emerged. They were all loosely centered around Entwine Park, a place that was popular among the homeless of Trans Paradis due to an abandoned skyway that once connected an abandoned skytower to one that was demolished ten years ago. The important thing was that the skyway could still be reached from the ground.
“There’s a hole in your net, Hildy.” Tower pointed out the sizable green trapezoid that covered the equivalent of four quadrants. Not a single picture appeared inside the green area. “What’s going on there?”
“I don’t know.” Hildy was biting on her lower lip. “I’ve got two flocks inside the green area, but this is strange. None of them are picking up anything, not a single cam. They can’t even find a public one, and in an area that size, there should be at least forty or fifty.”
“Where do the homeless people go when it rains?” Tower mused, thinking of a very bad poem he had once heard a very silly man recite at an ill-conceived poetry slam. “And where do they go when they don’t want to be seen?”
“The maintenance records show the surveillance sensors have been down for six years. They also show that the last five times the sensors were replaced, they were malfunctioning again in an average two point six days. The absence of an unusual amount of crime in the surrounding area indicates that some form of unofficial accommodation has been reached between the park population and the security forces in the surrounding neighborhood.”
“I suppose threatening the homeless with three hots and a cot isn’t the most effective deterrent,” Tower said. “And the restaurants have to dump their excess somewhere. We’re not going to find anything in the park proper. Hildy, what are the nearest functioning cams showing for the last 54 hours?”
“Let’s take a look.” The detector did something to adjust the holo display. It zoomed in and the park jumped up several levels of magnification, large enough to permit Tower to see stands of trees, gazebos turned into rudimentary shelters, several ponds and dozens of twisting paths. One by one, the bordering streets flashed orange. As the time period shrank, they turned red, indicating Dunn hadn’t been there, or at least been recorded there, lately. Then they were down to one narrow walkway still glowing green-white.
“That’s the most recent contact. Sensor uplink verifies the target crossed by Target 239 Alpha Romeo just outside the park fourteen point four hectasecs ago. Retrieving.” Hildy said, with barely repressed excitement in her voice.
Tower leaned forward. Yeah, it was Dunn. He had his hands shoved into his pockets and his head down, glancing side to side as he walked across the path. Not suspicious at all. As he looked toward the sensor pod, Tower saw a flash of white. It was there for just a fraction of a second, and then it was gone.
Baby, check out under his chin. Is that an uplink module?
Baby zoomed in the image of the man, then into the curved white object just inside Dunn’s coat collar. “Affirmative, Tower. That is a Baltic IC Connect 1000 uplink. It is one of the higher capacity units on the market.”
“Sounds expensive.”
“Exceedingly, sir. Ninety thousand civars.”
Hildy whistled. “Not bad for a man without so much as a debit account. What could he possibly be using it for?”
“You ran his financials already?”
“What financials? He doesn’t have any. He’s registered on the welfare support system, but his number hasn’t shown a collection in, well, ever.”
“Have to give him credit for being a self-starter, anyhow.”
Tower was thinking. The disruptors disappeared from Beta Customs a week ago. There was no way a black market guy, let alone a petty player like Dunn, could unload disruptors fast enough to make that much money. It would have triggered too many alerts, tripped too many wires. Unless, of course, there was a single customer who wanted one disruptor very, very badly.
“We need to go in and find him,” Tower told Baby. “Contact the colonel and see if a tac-team is available.”
“Tower?” Hildy looked up and smiled at the cam. “You can belay your team. I found him.”
“You do? How?”
“The flickers don’t have their own cams so I pulled a drone from Traffic and sent it over the park. Check it out.”
The holo transformed into a live image of a bridge near the center of the park. Dunn was walking along a stone path by one of the larger ponds, avoiding the other pedestrians. In the corner of the screen, the numbers from the GPS and time stamp were constantly updating. It was live.
“Excellent work, Detector!” Hildy beamed at the praise. “How long can you hold that drone on him?”
“It has three days worth of fuel and my req was approved indefinitely.”
“Any tranq darts, by any chance?”
“It’s a traffic drone, Tower, it doesn’t belong to the zoo.”
Baby snorted.
“Hey, just asking.” He grimaced, knowing that she wasn’t going to like what he was going to say next. “All right, you sit tight and keep an eye on him. I’m going to gear up and go get him with, who did we get, Baby?”
“Delta team, boss. Only three of them are free, but Colonel Baylor says you can take point.”
“As long as I don’t have to hump the pig.”
“Hey, I’m coming too!” Hildy protested. “This is my case, Tower, and I found him! You can’t just waltz in and—”
“Fine, then call your SATT team!” Tower snapped. “Are you really going to call SATT over a homeless derelict minding his own business in the park? Because he’s a material witness? What are you going to tell them, it’s an emergency because he didn’t pay the import tax on the disruptors?”
“Well, um, I… well, no, probably not.” Hildy flushed. “I can get another uniform to go with me.”
“Yeah, and two uniforms with vests and pop guns are going to round up a guy who might have fourteen Mosin-Nyarlas stashed away nearby? What are you going to do, try to sneak in with your black-and-white and hope none of the collection of criminals, drug dealers, and petty thieves living there don’t notice? Hildy, I’ve got three soldiers who are not only trained and equipped to deal with military grade weapons, but are presently sitting around arguing whose girlfriend is more free with her affections. Look, this is still your case. You’re on overwatch; we need someone keeping an eye on things in case something bad goes down. All right?”
“Oh, all right,” Hildy said reluctantly. “Only don’t kill him, all right?”
“Despite what you may have heard, we don't kill everything that moves,�
� Tower assured her. “Don’t you lose him now. We’ll need about 2 kilosecs to gear up and get there. We’ll bring him in to you as fast as we can.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sec. 102-5. Method of arrest.
(a) An arrest is made by an actual restraint of the person or by his submission to custody.
(b) An arrest may be made on any day and at any time of the day or night.
(c) An arrest may be made anywhere within the jurisdiction of His Grace the Duke of Rhysalan.
(d) In the event of resistance on the part of the person(s) arrested, all force deemed necessary by the duly authorized agent may be used to effect an arrest.
—from “Code of Criminal Procedure, Section 102”
Baby guided the aerovar to the park sans sirens. In the seat beside him, Sergeant Quinn was sliding one tranquilizing dart after another into his Nu-Dart Z-Caliber projector. The darts were fat and stubby, and contained a darkly hellish concoction that made Tower feel queasy just to think about it. The projector held six shots, which should be five more than they needed. Behind him, Corporals Unger and Casillon were checking their much more lethal firepower; Unger was armed with an Armada LR-64 combat laser carbine with a grenade launcher attached to the right side of the barrel while the beefy Casillon cradled “the pig”, otherwise known as the GD-PG heavy particle accelerator. All four of them were wearing neutrino-bonded light battle armor that, despite being flexible, was capable of protecting the wearer from charged particles or even a direct hit from a disruptor.
The armor was less conspicuous than powered battlesuits, was comfortable, and even allowed them to move freely. Its downsides were that it was less useful against lasers and downright useless against low tech projectile weapons. Tower himself carried only his Sphinx, although out of habit, he strapped a combat knife to his right leg. These days, combat was mostly the augment-assisted exchange of various lights and particles in the form of beams and bolts, but even so, sometimes you had to stick someone up close and personal.
“Got a message for you from Major Zeuthen,” Baby informed him. “He says, and I quote, ‘don’t you even think about letting anyone fire that GD-PG within the city limits. Are you crazy?’” For maximum effect, she played back the recording of the major’s voice. The message was unequivocal and considerably more profane than Baby’s abridged description.
“Leave the pig in the var, Corporal,” Tower ordered. “There’s a spare Armada in the trunk.”
“Ah, come on, Chief!” Casillon protested. “You said these guys have access to Mosin-Nyarlas! What if they bushwack us and we need to defend ourselves?”
Tower glanced up to the camera sending the visual feed to Hildy. He had a feeling she was beginning to regret not taking her chances chasing Dunn down herself. He didn’t see the need for the pig himself; it wasn’t as if the Armadas were slug-poppers. The LR-64 was built around a 2.3k-cell oscillator with a rapid-fire fast axial flow that discharged at 2,000 watts. It wouldn’t take down an armored var, but on maximum power it could burn through 12 millimeters of high-quality plassteel.
“Wiping out everything that moves in the park isn’t self-defense and no one is bushwhacking anyone, Casillon. TPPD already has their eyes on the prize; all we have to do is make sure he doesn’t get away. And we want him alive, so set your PPGs low enough to take him down, not kill him. The objective is for the sergeant to take the shot with the dart if he won’t come along quietly. We’re just there to drive him if necessary. Do not shoot to kill, are we clear on that?”
He thought about ordering Unger and Casillon to leave the lasers in the var too, but decided that was going a little too far. They were dealing with illegal arms dealing and military grade weaponry, after all, and on the off-chance he and Hildy had completely misread the situation, he didn’t want to leave the team without any decent ranged capability.
Tower called up the detailed map of Entwine Park, with Dunn’s last location highlighted on the pathways. “Whatcha got for me, Hildy?”
“No movement so far, Tower. He’s just sitting there like he’s got nothing better to do.”
“Does it look like a meet?”
“Maybe, but I’ve been sweeping the vicinity, doesn’t look like anyone else is with him. Lots of civilians, normal civilians. I wonder if they know the security cams are down?”
“I suppose the rats leave them alone and only come out at night.”
A tiny window appeared over the map, in the corner of Tower’s vision. Yeah, there was the target. They should have him in less than three hectasecs.
As they approached the park, Tower took over manual flight control and put the aerovar down on one of the side streets that bordered it. The three Delta team men were out in a flash; Tower checked and saw Casillon had left the artillery behind as ordered. The park was surrounded by a brick wall as tall as a man’s chest. According to the map, there were two gates on this street, and two more on each of the streets that intersected it.
Baby popped the trunk, Tower withdrew the spare carbine he’d promised the big corporal, and handed it to the man. A few civilians noticed them and one pointed in their direction, but no one seemed overly interested or concerned. The air was brisk, with a stiff breeze rustling the leaves on the trees. He inhaled the scent of grass, flowers, and dirt, then slammed down his helmet visor. The others did the same.
“He’s about 175 meters from the north wall. Red icon.”
The map showed Dunn still lingering by one of the ponds. Six yellow icons moved slowly nearby. They had to do this carefully. Baby, give me an overlay of all the citizens in a 150 meters radius around the target.
“Civvies overlaid, boss!” Yellow stars crowded the display. Too many. There must be nearly forty people milling about nearby. Well, nothing they could do about that. One of the downsides of police work, even military police work, was the way in which the powers-that-be frowned on collateral damage. It was a lot easier when you could simply shoot anything that moved.
“All right, boys, let’s come at him from both sides. Quinn, find a position 100 meters south where you have a clear shot if he spooks. We want to be sure we can hit him coming or going. Casillon, with me. Unger, with the sergeant.”
“Yessir” they chorused.
“Do we shoot if he runs?” Corporal Casillon wanted to know.
“Not with that thing.” Tower patted his still-holstered Sphinx. “We’ll let him go; the sergeant will be in a good position to intercept. How fast will that devil’s brew put him down, Sergeant?”
“2.5 CC? One in fifteen seconds. Two in five. Three and he won’t wake up again.”
“Let’s stick with one, then. He can’t get far in fifteen seconds with Hildy watching.” Tower blew out a breath, drew his Sphinx, and checked to be sure he had his charge set where he wanted it. “Let’s do this.”
Quinn and Unger saluted and jogged off. Tower nodded at Casillon and they began a slow walk toward the target at a pace that would give the others time to get in their position first.
It was actually a pleasant stroll through the park, or at least it would have been without the frightened reactions they inspired in everyone they encountered. He rounded a corner by a copse of aspens. He could see Dunn still sitting on the bench by the little pond. Tower considered the idea of pulling back and waiting to see what Dunn was doing there, but decided against it. Best to get him now; once he was in TPPD’s hands, they could get everything they needed out of him. He decided a soft play was in order and slid his visor back so his face would be exposed. He guessed Dunn would be more likely to come along without complaints if he wasn’t dealing with a faceless, armored man.
Tower walked down the path toward Dunn as nonchalantly as he could manage. The homeless man was distracted by a young woman who was walking down a path to his right; he didn’t see Tower and Casillon coming. His left eye was telescoped slightly, zoomed in on the healthy young woman’s backside, Tower guessed. Baby was pulling civvy profiles from data devices in purses, fr
om wearable uplink modules and augmented implants. A collage of faces scrolled down the side of Tower peripheral vision. None of them were flagged with criminal records or a known association with Dunn.
Knock it off, Baby. Too much. Just sort ‘em out and let me know if anything looks relevant. Any sign of a weapon?
“I have nothing near or on him. There is some metal about 25 meters away that could be a weapon based on the shape.”
Disruptor?
“No, too small.”
Probably nothing. Just don’t let me step on it in case it’s a mine.
Just then, Dunn looked to his right and saw them.
Tower waved and gave him a thumbs up, hoping to confuse Dunn and slow his reaction. The gestures were certainly enough to confuse the wanted man. He blinked rapidly and the ghastly metal eye detelescoped and focused on Tower. Tower knew he was getting scanned and wondered what sort of data the homeless man’s augment could access.
“Hardwig Dunn, put your hands in the air.”
Dunn’s jaw went slack. His hands went up inadvertently. “Hey, man, are you kind sort of cop?”
“Some kind.” Tower slapped his badge and it projected his bona fides. “MCID. You’re wanted for questioning as a material witness.”
“No way, man, I ain’t talkin’ to no cops.” Dunn stood up and Tower let his right hand slide down to the butt of his Sphinx. He didn’t draw it, though. He knew Casillon was standing just behind him, to his right, with the Armada, and besides, Dunn was unarmed.
“Tower, there is some sort of anomaly with his implants.”
What sort of anomaly?
“They’re powered. They’ve got more amperage than they should. Working on it.”
Great, so the cyborg was souped-up. Tower forced a big friendly smile as he wondered if he should have had Quinn sneak up and take the shot from behind instead of taking up his position to the south. It was starting to look like the guy was really dumb enough to try running. “Come on, Dunn, just turn around, I’ll check you out, and then we’ll go get a nice warm coffee while my friends ask you a few questions. If you’ll come along without a fuss, I won’t even bind your hands. We just want to talk to you, you’re not under arrest.”