And suddenly Cally Ames showed off her top-of-her-class skills in martial arts. A chambered punch to Gorecki’s solar plexus with the full momentum of her body weight was followed by a knee to the groin. The doubled-over reaction that began in Gorecki’s body at the gut punch intensified with the impact to his privates. Cally took advantage of the fact, delivering an uppercut to Gorecki’s jaw, snapping his head back. A quick, sweeping kick to the back of his knees, and Gorecki was on his back on the pavement, gasping.
“Shit, Cal,” Nick murmured, grabbing up the bag with the wine in one hand, and her arm in the other. “Come on! While he’s still seeing stars, let’s get outta here!”
They ran around the corner, up a flight of fire-escape stairs to street level, and ducked into an alley, then cut across the mews between the buildings, and into a maintenance hatch.
Two minutes later, Gorecki caught his breath and sat up, cursing. He looked around, but Ashton and his “bodyguard” were nowhere to be seen. Only the odd pedestrian wandered into this or that store front.
“Dammit to hell,” he snarled, getting to his feet and rubbing his jaw where Ames had hit him. “That little she-cat is next on my list after Ashton and Carter!”
He limped down the street, trying not to walk funny.
In a recessed shop doorway behind him, a shopper looked after him, stifled a snort, then headed in the opposite direction.
Cally was cooking, and Nick was setting the table, when the buzzer went off at her front door. They looked at each other, and Cally shook her head – No, I’m not expecting anyone – when they both got an alert in VR.
“Guys, it’s Adrian,” came the VR message, “and I’m alone. Just wanted to check on you two.”
Nick headed for the door and let him into the apartment. He glanced both directions down the hall, but saw no one, and closed the door quickly.
“What’s up?” Nick asked.
“And do you want to stay for dinner?” Cally added. “There’s enough here for three.”
“It’s good, believe me,” Nick continued. Adrian Mott laughed.
“Don’t tempt me,” he said. “It smells delicious. But I just came by to make sure you two made it away okay, and that Gorecki didn’t have anyone waiting.”
“No, we got away clean,” Nick said. “Judging from the way he reacted, I think we caught him as much by surprise as he did us.”
“I’d agree to that,” Cally called from the kitchen. “C’mon in here, guys, so I don’t have to yell.”
“Good plan,” Adrian agreed, and followed Nick into the kitchen. “Oh damn, it smells even better in here!”
“So I take it you saw the altercation earlier?” Cally asked, making a quick, subtle gesture to Nick, who fished out an extra place setting from her cabinet and adjusted the placement on her little dining table, allowing for three people to dine.
“Yeah, I did,” Adrian admitted. “I know you guys know that the rest of us have been taking turns watching out for you two, while Nick was recovering from getting shot, and tonight was my turn. I was just shadowing the two of you, and saw the whole thing go down. I was actually maneuvering to take him down from behind when Cally lit into him like the proverbial buzz saw.”
“She did good,” Nick said with a wry grin.
“She did. Gorecki didn’t expect that!”
“I wasn’t expecting it, either!”
“It also accomplished another thing,” Cally pointed out.
“Yeah. It changed Gorecki’s thinking from ‘girlfriend’ to ‘bodyguard,’” Adrian observed. “So he’s not gonna go looking for a girlfriend to hit up.”
“Oh, he probably will still go looking for Cally, at some point,” Nick said with a sigh. “Which is exactly what I didn’t want. But yeah, she wounded his pride. He’s not gonna let that go.”
“True,” Cally said, continuing to finish off the various dishes, and beginning to plate them. “But we’ve all got each other’s backs, so good luck with that. And sooner or later, we gotta take him down.”
“Somehow,” Nick said.
“Dinner’s ready!” Cally sang out cheerfully. “You two, have a seat, and let’s eat!”
“But I,” Adrian began.
“Sit,” Nick reiterated. “We don’t mind having a friend over for dinner.”
Adrian sat, and the trio chatted and laughed through a lovely four-course meal.
When they were done, Adrian escorted Nick safely to his own apartment.
First Blood to the Council
“HEADS UP, PEOPLE!” Colonel Peterson called as she came into the investigator bullpen, late in the afternoon of the next day. “We have a situation! Briefing room in two!”
Everyone scrambled for the door to the briefing room, and Peterson took the podium in just over a minute.
“All right,” she said. “We’ve had a murder of one of the Palace staffers, in one of the apartment buildings in Imperial Park West, over near the IUS campus. You’ll note that Detective Gorski isn’t here, because he was here when the call came in about five or ten minutes ago, and I sent him off to handle it with a couple of squad cars, coded. That means, Nick, that you’ll be involved with it pretty directly, one way or another. But to some extent, we all will…because this is top-level. I expect you all to help.”
“Who was it, how was it done, and why?” Rassmussen, who had recently been promoted to Detective, asked.
“Vasilisa ‘Vash’ Medved,” Peterson noted, “advisor – and personal friend – to the Empress. The Throne is gonna be involved on this one, people, so keep your wits about you. When I said top-level, I meant it.”
“Aw, IPD will grab it,” Weyand grumbled. “It’s almost not worth taking notes on it.”
“No, they won’t,” Peterson announced. “In fact, they tried already. Stefan called me a couple minutes ago to verify that for me; it’s the only reason I waited as long as I did to call you all together. It’s our understanding that the investigator and team from IPD were met by an Imperial Guard contingent… and taken into custody by same.” She paused, as gasps went around the room. “Yes, kiddies, the Empress is pissed. And apparently has reason to believe IPD may have been involved.”
“What in hell brought this on?” Ashton asked.
“Well, given it appears to be a professional hit – a double-tap to the back of the head, while she was in the elevator and almost home, after working all day as a Palace staffer and confidential advisor to the Empress,” Peterson added, meeting Ashton’s shocked look with a knowing glance, “chances are, it had to do with the work Medved was doing for the Throne. I’m sure you’ve all followed some of the subtle little back-and-forth stuff that’s cropped up in the news feeds in the last few years with increasing frequency. Let alone the big investigation on military weapons quality control and manufacturing.”
Nods went around the room.
“It seems that Ms. Medved was the point on that effort. I’m not in the know, so I don’t know details, at least not yet. But it would be my bet that, since Ms. Medved once worked in that industry, specifically in the quality assurance testing, more than likely she was feeding information to the Empress – or at least, the Empress’ effort – that somebody didn’t want her providing…and they took her out as a result. So at the very least…” Peterson broke off. “John, shut the door and everyone, initiate silent protocols.”
Smith stood, closed the briefing room door, and sat back down. Immediately everyone’s face went blank, as they entered full-immersion VR and met in a classified and highly secure channel – one that only those people in ICPD Investigations could access.
“All right. Now that we’re all here,” Peterson continued, from the podium in a virtual conference room, nearly identical to the physical one, “at the very least, since it was almost certainly a political assassination, targeted against the Empress’ reform efforts, then the Council was in the know about it. More likely, the Council – or someone on the Council – ordered it. Directly. And since the
Council’s enforcers are the local IPD, you can guess who saw it was arranged.”
“Damn,” Ames murmured.
“From what Stefan has fed me, the IPD had an ‘investigatory’ team on site far too quickly, and as I mentioned a moment ago, that team has been taken into custody…with the authority of the Throne behind it. He saw it happen as he was pulling up, himself. Per his contact on the Imperial Guard, they are not in an ICPD lockdown; they are being held, incommunicado, by no less than the Imperial Guard, and their whereabouts are unknown and secure. That is classified information, kiddies, and not to leave this VR channel. Sound off and let me know you understand this.”
One by one, each investigator acknowledged the security classification.
“Now to action items. Stefan has gone to meet with a representative of the Imperial Guard, to look at the crime scene, along with an Imperial Guard forensics team,” Peterson went on, “and he left instructions for Nick, and in turn for as many of the rest of you as Nick decides he needs: dig into Medved’s past employment records, find out who her boss was when she was working weapons quality control, and bring him or her in for questioning. It’s likely that, if the former boss wasn’t involved directly, he may know who was. Nick, as Stefan is our point of contact at the Palace, you’re taking point on team ops. People, treat him like he was a detective already, please, because that’s what we need. Given he’s not far off that rank, and he’s been working damn close with Stefan for a few years now, Stefan and I felt that that’s how we should play it. Does anyone have any objections – including the other detectives in the room, who he may require to assist?”
The virtual meeting room was silent.
“Nick?”
“All over it, ma’am,” Nick said.
“Go get ‘em, tiger,” Peterson said. “Dismissed.”
Ames volunteered to scout out the employment records while Ashton tried to contact Gorski in VR from his office, in private.
“Oh, hi, Nick,” Gorski finally responded – though it was voice-only. “You got anything for me yet?”
“Not yet, Stefan,” Ashton said. “Cally is trying to pull up Medved’s records now, while I contact you. She and I will go over ‘em as soon as I’m done here.”
“Good. I don’t have a lot for you yet,” Gorski said. “I’m watching the Guard’s forensics team put together the crime scene right now. The husband’s upset as hell, of course. It seems the victim was afraid of something like this, back when she was offered the job of advising the Empress, and he recommended she take the job.”
“Aw, damn.”
“Yeah, poor bastard. He’s laying the blame on himself, and pretty much a wreck at this point. There was an attempt by IPD to usurp the crime scene, but the Guard headed it off.”
“I feel for the poor guy, and yeah, the Colonel told us about the attempt. Listen, Stefan, you know who did it.”
“I know who you think did it.”
“Let me send you some of the stuff I’ve put together over the years I’ve been watching the guy,” Ashton suggested as he requested the VR system provide a classified channel for the two of them. “Yes, I know we still have to prove it was him. And I know it’s gonna be a pain in the ass to do. But just have a look. You can at least keep an eye out for anything that fits the profile I’ve constructed.”
“All right, Nick. Lay it on me,” Gorski capitulated.
The older man’s avatar appeared in the small gray room that Ashton had requested in VR, and Ashton’s avatar handed Gorski’s avatar a folder full of papers; this represented the transfer of the electronic reports and profiles that Ashton had compiled over the years, since he first started investigating Joey Bronze in the police academy. Gorski flipped through the first few pages, scanning them, then began to read.
“Hm. You do have something here,” he decided. “And yeah, this gives me some ideas about where to start looking. If I actually find something in those places, then I’ll take it even more seriously. And I’ll let you know immediately.”
“Good. That’s all I wanted you to do, Stefan. I’ll let you get back to it, then, and see what Cally and I can dig up on Medved’s ex-boss. Then we’ll go bring him in for questioning.”
“Excellent. And Nick? Thank you. I know you’ve been frustrated by our inability to pin anything on Bronze. But this one? You might have pointed me exactly where this investigation needs to go. Right on time to discuss it with Imperial Guard Major Dunham, too.”
“Terrific, Stefan. Like the Colonel just told me, ‘Go get ‘em, tiger.’”
Gorski laughed.
“The old tiger and the new. I wonder which is more dangerous?”
“I dunno, but when you team ‘em up, don’t take ‘em on in a dark alley at night.”
This time, they laughed together.
“Nick?” Ames said from across Ashton’s desk, when he emerged from VR. “That was pretty straightforward. I’ve already got the name for you.”
“Oh? Let’s hear it, Cally.”
“Her old boss was one Bruce Peter Fairfield, Manager of the Small Weapons Test Plan Design Group in the Department of Defense. According to records, when she got unhappy about the way things were going, she told him off and quit. Um, she told him off pretty effectively, too. And in no uncertain terms.” She flushed.
Ashton grinned; Callista Ames could be a bit prim and proper with him, for a fellow police officer, though she was pretty straightforward in the field, and could cuss with the best if the situation called for it. He could imagine the sort of language she was referencing, and Screw you! probably didn’t go nearly far enough. Maybe it’s because we’re putting together a private relationship that she’s shy around me about stuff like that, he considered, then got back to business.
“All right,” he said then. “We need to go down to the DoD complex and see about picking him up.”
“I got the address and building name, as well as his office number,” Ames declared. “It’s too late now to go get him, but it gives us plenty of time to plan for tomorrow.”
“Good. Let’s go put a team together.”
“That’s excellent,” Peterson said, as she watched Ames and Ashton put together a team. “Because word just came down – all the way from the Empress – they want this guy brought in to the Guard.”
“So it’s official-official now,” Ashton confirmed.
“About as official as it can get, Nick,” Peterson averred. “It’s late, and per feedback from Major Dunham coming through Stefan, Her Majesty prefers we do it tomorrow, after he gets off work. That way, he sort of vanishes in between work and home, hopefully with nobody in the conspiracy the wiser about where he went, and plenty of time to vanish him. Adrian is undercover, keeping watch on him, to make sure nobody else gets to him before we do.”
“That works,” Ashton agreed.
“Hey, Nick,” Peterson said as he came through the door the next morning. “I’m sending you over to work with the Imperial Guard and the Palace staff to see what’s going down there. Per the Guard’s request, they’re making an attempt to locate the hit man on the street cameras we have providing security around Imperial Park.”
“Right,” Ashton said. “But if they’re already doing that, what do you need me for?”
“Stefan wants you there, to see if you recognize Bronze in any of the imagery. You’re the one that has studied him the most, so he thought that might be good. Otherwise, just answer questions if asked, and sit quiet in the back and watch. He’s already arranged it through Major Dunham.”
“Yes ma’am. What about taking in Fairfield?”
“You can leave sometime after lunch to go take care of that – we don’t take him until quitting time, anyway. But for the time being, whenever you’re not doing something else, Stefan wants you looking for Bronze in those videos.”
“Okay.” Ashton shook his head. “What is with all the security videos, anyway?”
“Oh, that. We had a crime wave through there about a decade
ago or so,” Peterson explained. “Right before the whole Sandman serial killings started, actually. It proved damn hard to solve, because there were so few witnesses, and the burglars were pros. We did manage to round ‘em up and incarcerate ‘em, but we were left with the realization that the way that area is set up, there are just too many places where nobody much is gonna be around to see stuff go down. So ICPD made an offer to businesses along the arcade: If you want security on your businesses, we’ll install security cameras hooked to servers for the recordings – provided we get access for crime analysis. And they agreed.”
“Aha. That makes sense.”
“it does. Now run on; they’re expecting you. Park West entrance.”
Ashton arrived at the Imperial Park West entrance, checked in with Reception, and an Imperial Guard escorted him straight to the recording analysis team, who was just beginning their work on the security video recordings.
He sat in the back of the room and watched quietly, being allowed to enter VR with them when they took the analysis three-dimensional.
They were done well before lunch.
A grim Dominick Ashton rose and went in search of Stefan Gorski.
“So it was him?” Gorski asked.
“That, or he has a twin brother,” Ashton said. “If the pattern recognition algorithms don’t dump out Josip Bronsky, I’ll be shocked. I’ll also vote for firing the guy who wrote the algorithms.”
“And if we find the box, uniform, and weapon?”
“That’ll probably nail it.”
“Right. Never mind the modus operandi, because it was a double-tap with a .25 caliber airgun, just like your profile laid out. Were the analysis people sending the info over to the Marines at the spaceport?”
“What’s at the spaceport?”
“Oh, that’s right, you haven’t been in the loop on that. The contents of the trash bins were collected by the better part of a battalion of Imperial Marines, bagged and tagged per location, and taken to their facility at the spaceport. To look for the disguise and the weapon, we’ll need to go through the bags.” Gorski grinned. “Wanna go help?”
EMPIRE: Imperial Police Page 16