Rebuilt: A Jake Dani/Mike Shapeck Novel (Jake Dani / Mike Shapeck)

by Victory Crayne

  “Working on it.”

  That was it? Just three words?

  The love of my life was in danger of being arrested and sent back to Earth, where she’d face a death sentence and all my boss could say was “Working on it”?

  I slammed my fist on the desk.

  #

  Acorn studied Mike’s messages about Gancha Morentoss and Stater Gong.

  This problem of Gancha’s came from Earth’s Unipol and would not go away until either Gancha came back to Earth in handcuffs, or somehow he could make the warrant go away.

  Stater’s going to Telmot was another problem. But Mike was on the scene and Acorn knew he had to trust Mike. Micromanaging from Earth was not practical.

  He pondered Gancha’s problem and made a decision. He flared his nostrils to open his comm.

  “Charon, where is Stever Choen?”

  In seconds, he got his reply from his personal assistant.

  “Sir, Stever Choen is teaching a class at SUNY in Stony Brook, New York until…,” she glanced at a clock, “ten minutes from now.”

  Hmm, that would mean a delay.

  He sent a message to Choen.

  “I have op for you. Come.”

  Then Acorn looked at his schedule for tomorrow. It would take Choen that long to travel to him, even on a red-eye flight. Then, of course, he’s need to sleep. He had fifteen minutes till two p.m., so he spent the remaining time in preparing notes for Choen before leaving for the day.

  #

  The next day, after a man and woman left his office, Acorn looked at his schedule as Choen walked in.

  The Hispanic-looking agent placed his brown suitcase next to the door and stood in his gray pin-striped suit and black wingtip shoes. He closed the door as he had been instructed so many times.

  “I hear you have an op for me,” said Choen. “It’s about time.”

  “My station chief on Rossa has a problem you can help with. Unipol issued a warrant for the arrest of his girlfriend, Gancha Morentoss.

  Acorn passed a data cube and the envelope across his desk.

  “The data cube has the full background of information you need to know. The envelope contains a bribe I want you to offer to Beverly Mousier. Record it, of course. Your flight to Chicago leaves in three hours.”

  Chapter 42

  Choen looked out his window seat at the Chicago skyline. He spotted the Peters Building, the second tallest building in the world.

  “Doesn’t look so tall from here.”

  His stay in Chicago would be brief because he wanted to take a certain woman out to dinner in the Big Apple. After he deplaned at O’Hare Airport, he rented a car and drove on the 90 and then the 94 until he got to Wilmette. He took the Lake Avenue exit and a half-hour later parked in the lot of Walgreens.

  A glance at his comm told him he was fifteen minutes early.

  Maybe they have coffee.

  A part of him wondered when people had first drunk coffee. He got out of his rental and walked in the parking lot behind a male humanoid bot. Half of the people shopping today had the ‘perfect’ appearance of bots. When the bot in front of him got to the front of the stores, he turned to the right. Stever went straight into the drug store. He looked around and spotted the coffee maker. After selecting a cup and adding two sugars, he poured the Italian Roast.

  Fifteen minutes later, the store emptied. He heard the clink of coins as the personnel at the checkouts counted their cash. One guy in a uniform walked the aisles, probably to check on last minute shoppers.

  Choen raised the container, drank the last of the coffee, and threw the paper container into the wastebasket.

  A dark-skinned woman matching the description of the photo came to the front door.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re closed for the day.”

  Choen nodded, walked out, and waited in front of the drug store.

  He enjoyed staring at Beverly Mousier’s wide hips she bent over to lock the door. She had on a black tight skirt, pink long-sleeved blouse, and black heels. Even without her ample breasts in the photo he carried, he could see why Jimmy Dice dated her. If dated could be called the right word. From Acorn’s report, being black himself, Jimmy Dice had several black women on the line, even though he always came back to Beverly. Until Dice went inside and got himself killed. So now Beverly was on the hunt again for another sugar daddy.

  Choen was a tall man at six one, thanks to his dad. His broad shoulders and rugged face made him a real lady’s man.

  She turned and strode toward the parked cars. When she saw him, she didn’t stop or alter her fast pace.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Hi. I’m Albert Parker. As I understand it, you know a James Dice.”

  Beverly raised her chin at the mention of the name. She stopped her rapid pace and stood still, as did he.

  “Maybe. But what’s that to you?”

  Choen reached in his right breast pocket and pulled out the envelope.

  He stared at Mousier pointing a gun at him.

  “I also understand you had a…” Choen looked down at his notes in his right hand, “Gancha Morentoss drive you to see your mother Stermana at Angel’s Heaven on April 7 of last year.”

  She stuck her hand in her handbag when he spoke. She probably had a gun there.

  “As I said before, what’s it to you?”

  Choen handed the envelope to Beverly.

  “This is a guarantee that you’ll change your statement to Gancha driving you that night.”

  Beverly took the envelope and opened it. Her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped as she scanned the hundred sol bills in currency. In the middle of the stack was a piece of outsized paper. She pulled it out and read how to access the remaining two hundred thousand pounds in the Cayman Islands. A note in the envelope explained the current exchange rate was one dollar and two cents per sol.

  Choen added, “This is in return for your consulting services on the Cleveland project.”

  “What’s the Cleveland project?” she asked.

  “Make it up. Remember, my name is Albert Parker.”

  Beverly placed the envelope in her handbag as she viewed the man with squinted eyes.

  Choen turned and walked toward his rental car. He placed his left hand in his pocket and turned off the vid recorder hidden in the golden broach on his left lapel.

  #

  That evening, Acorn sipped from his glass of whiskey. Classical piano music from Chopin filled his living room. Ever since his wife Arlene died several years ago from stomach cancer, when he got home he drove away thoughts of her by having a drink right way. It soon became a habit.

  He reclined in his easy chair and read the report from Stever Choen. The enclosed video of Beverly Mousier accepting the bribe was the clincher.

  Everything worked the way he had planned.

  He put down the plastic sheet and took another sip of whisky. He prepared the message to Mousier. The message would be sent by an indirect route, to ensure it could not be traced.

  “I am the one who sent the tall man named Parker to bribe you. You have two choices.

  “One, you can tell Unipol that you were afraid of Jimmy Dice and when he asked you to be his alibi and say you were with Jimmy that evening of the murder of Tenito Summar, you agreed. But if you stick with your old story of being with Jimmy, you may face a bribery charge if the vid comes out that you accepted cash to testify that you were with someone else.

  “Two, you can change your story to being driven to visit your mother at Angel’s Heaven nursing home. You can say now that Jimmy Dice is dead and cannot hurt you, you decided to tell the truth. That night, you were driven by Gancha Morentoss to visit your mother Stermana at Angel’s Heaven nursing home. And you can keep the money.

  “Your choice.”

  Acorn smirked as he sent the message.

  Blackmail sometimes works wonders.

  A few days later, Acorn watched as his favorite hacker left his office. The warrant for the a
rrest of Gancha Morentoss had been cancelled.

  Mission accomplished.

  He sent a message to Mike.

  “Warrant cancelled.”

  Chapter 43

  The next evening, I got the message from Acorn I had been waiting for. It was a long one too and I hoped my boss had spent time working on the problem.

  Jimmy Dice had died in prison. The Illinois State Police had earlier pinned the murder on Gancha as Dice’s hired gun.

  Beverly Mousier was caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place. If she insisted she was with Dice at the time of the murder, she could be found guilty of bribery as seen on the vid.

  The clinching evidence was the statement by Mousier that Morentoss has a cold that night and spoke with a nasal tone. In a separate statement, Morentoss had reported she had a cold that day. She couldn’t remember where she was on the night of the murder.

  After Mousier changed her statement, the Illinois State Police decided that Dice was responsible for Summar’s murder. Since they didn’t have any additional evidence, the case against Gancha was closed.

  Later, I got a tag from Deek that the warrant was cancelled. How he found out so soon, I didn’t know. Maybe he still had contacts in the department. But it was nice he had tagged me. He knew Gancha was my girlfriend.

  That reminded me of unfinished business. But first things first.

  #

  I called out, “Gancha!”

  She popped her head out of the dining room.

  “Yeah?”

  “The warrant for your arrest has been cancelled.”

  The grin on her face went almost from ear to ear.

  “Thanks!”

  “Care to go on an op?”

  “Sure. Where to?” she asked.

  “First, I need to get something. Then I’ll be right back.”

  It wouldn’t do to go in my undies so I put on blue jeans and a blue shirt to match, and donned a pair of brown bopum gloves. Then I drove the BIS van to Mourtan Security where I picked up two dozen outdoor cameras.

  When I got back to the ops center, I spoke to Gancha.

  “Are you up to inflicting a little pain on someone?”

  “Depends on who it is,” she replied. “If it’s a bad guy, yeah. In a heartbeat.”

  “It is.”

  I explained what I had in mind. She and I painted a logo of ABC Security on each of the cameras. Then we put darker brown tans on parts of our bodies that would show. Modern cosmetics were wonderful in that regard. She disguised herself as a man. With her height, that was better than trying to pass as a woman. We added full beards and bushy eyebrows. Next we put on coveralls with the logo of ABC Security. That was a fictional company but with all the new businesses popping up in Zor and elsewhere in York, I didn’t think anybody would notice. At least it seemed legit.

  This time, we didn’t wear body armor since that would make us appear too bulky. Besides, we didn’t need them for this part of the operation. We wore gloves, of course, so as not to leave any fingerprints on the cameras.

  We loaded the boxes of cameras into the BIS van by putting them into gear bags with the logo of the firm on their outsides.

  “Chima, put the logo and other information on your outside to make it look like you are a working van for ABC Security. Check with Ruta on the design we used on the cameras.”

  “Affirmative.”

  Gancha drove me to the street in Corey where Nguyen lived.

  As we visited each house, I told anyone who came to the door, “There have been a rash of break-ins in this neighborhood. Zor Metro wants us to install these cameras so the police could tell the license plates of anyone who cases the houses here before breaking into them. And hopefully get a view of the faces of the perpetrators too.

  “We’ll stop by in another week or two to pick up the cameras.”

  We visited each house and installed cameras on the front doors, looking out at the street. Actually, we were only interested in seeing when Ben Nguyen was home.

  When I walked up to the Nguyen house, the lights were off and I was glad he wasn’t home.

  #

  As I went from door to door, I was glad to have something to do with my hands while I thought over Gancha’s proposal.

  Part of me was flattered that she would want a child by me. I worried she’d leave me to find a father.

  But another part of me screamed, “No!” Having a child this late in my life would tie me down as a spy for BIS.

  Talk about a dilemma!

  Gancha had done some planning on this, for sure. She would pay her housekeeper’s niece a hundred thousand sols to be a surrogate mother. That part I could understand.

  The only part she left out was how to get her eggs from Earth to Rossa. Gancha had talked with Acorn about having another child and she reported he was delighted to have a child by both of us. Since we were spies for BIS, I’m sure he thought he could get his hooks into our offspring too.

  Acorn agreed to get her eggs and send them to Rossa. The key part was up to me. Would I agree to this whole idea? It was a major decision. I already had one child, Alena. Grown up too.

  Could I go through the whole childrearing thing again?

  But Alena was excited about having a baby brother. That I had not expected.

  I had told both of the women that I was not ready to make a decision. My dilemma was left unresolved.

  For now.

  Something told me that if I dallied too long, Gancha and Acorn would take matters into their own hands. After all, Acorn had my DNA on file.

  The ball was back in my court. And I didn’t have long to decide.

  Chapter 44

  “He’s home!” yelled Gancha from her monitor in the planning room.

  “Show on the wall,” I said from my desk in the same room.

  Almost instantly, the view came of Nguyen’s home. The man himself entered the house via its side door.

  “Let’s get ready,” I added. “We do it tonight.”

  We put black paint on our faces and donned armor. It was possible there would be shooting tonight. Then we both put on all black clothing.

  An hour later, we left the ops center.

  Gancha drove the BIS van while I watched the monitor on the dashboard. Nguyen stayed at home, probably having dinner.

  When we turned down Harken Avenue to his house, I said, “Chima, darken the interior.”

  The interior got dimmer.

  Gancha drove two doors from Nguyen’s and parked on the opposite side of the street. We both donned Z helmets and could see well in the dark. Nguyen’s house was between two streetlights in a dark patch, making it ideal for our entry.

  We got out and ran to his house. Per our plan, we went directly to the side door. Gancha kept the screen door open while I inserted a special key into the lock. In less than ten seconds, the light on my end of the key turned green. I turned the handle and pushed the door open. Both of us stepped aside, in case we encountered gunfire.

  But nothing happened.

  I entered with my Snap out in front of me and she brought up the rear. To the right was the kitchen with its light on.

  So far, nobody greeted us. But that could change in a second.

  As I crept into the adjacent dining room and turned the corner to the living room, in a split second I saw Nguyen. He stood behind the sofa with a gun pointed right at me.

  I ducked back into the dining room as shots rang out from his gun and Gancha’s.

  I reached into one leg pocket, pulled out a flash bomb, and tossed it into the living room with my right hand.

  “Flash bomb,” I said in my helmet. Connected to each other, we could carry on a conversation without Nguyen hearing any of it.

  Both of the faces of our helmets went dark.

  Two seconds later, the room lit up with a white light and stayed that way for another three seconds, time enough to do its work.

  I switched weapons and came around the corner with my dart gun in fro
nt of me and Gancha behind me.

  Nguyen stood with his left arm in front of his face. In his right, he held a gun and fired in a circle. I felt a slug hit my chest armor but it did no lasting harm.

  I raised my right arm and, with a pop, fired my dart gun.

  In the green light of my helmet, I saw Nguyen look down at the dart stuck in his abdomen. Then his eyes rolled up, he went slack, and fell to the floor behind the sofa.

  I turned to my partner.

  “Wounded?’

  Gancha replied, “Negative.”

  I rushed to a spot where I could see behind that piece of furniture and saw him lying there, motionless. His eyes were shut. I leaned over and took his gun, a Higgs and Wesson .38.

  “Chima, drive yourself to Nguyen’s side door. Back into the driveway.”

  I heard the van start up and pull out from its spot. In seconds, tires squealed as it turned left and entered the driveway.

  It took Gancha and me another five minutes to carry the man’s body out the door next to the kitchen.

  The side doors of the van slid open as Gancha and I swung the prostrate body of Nguyen into the back.

  She hopped in and closed the door. I opened the driver’s side door and climbed in. A minute later, we headed north on Harken Avenue where it was safe to turn on our headlights. The ops center was a short distance away and twenty minutes later, counting a loop to detect a tail, I drove the van into the basement.

  Out of the corner of my right eye, I saw Gancha look down in the back.

  “He’s still out,” she said.

  I removed my helmet and stored it in the secret compartment in the dashboard. She handed me hers and I added it to mine. Then I got out and opened the side door.

  “Ruta, is anybody going between us and the door to the ops center?”

  “Negative.”

  Gancha lifted Nguyen’s body limp body behind me as I walked the hallway, down the stairs, and activated the security on our front door. This was one time I appreciated her Binger strength.

  In seconds, we entered the dorm and Gancha carried the unconscious Nguyen directly to the jail room.

  Mission accomplished.

  #

  In the torture room, Gancha winced as she inflicted pain on poor Nguyen. The man sat naked with his legs spread apart. A paddle was attached to his chair in such a way that every time she moved her lever, the paddle would swing up and strike him in the balls.