Lover

by Valerie J. Long

  We reached our corner almost in time. Three more steps.

  “Stop! You there!”

  Two more, one, I heard a click and tore Gomez forward, and then a shot rang.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Gomez went down around the corner, I rolled off, and the bullet whistled past above me.

  The shooter already lowered his barrel, a second pursuer just drew his gun, and both ran toward us. Good, as it was harder to aim while running.

  Gomez had overcome his terror and was just getting up. I jumped behind the cover of the building corner, used his back as step to reach the roof more easily, and pulled myself up. There, I sprinted toward the shooters.

  Those had accelerated again once their last target—me—had disappeared from sight. When I jumped from the roof and right in front of them, they had no chance to shoot, and not just for the surprise, as their guns were still pointing downward.

  With two strikes, I battered the guns out of their hands, with a blow against their throats I briefly stole their breath, and then I reaped them off their legs. This gave me time to collect their artillery.

  “What?” Gomez approached from behind. “Holy Dragon poo.”

  “Without their persuasion amplifiers, they’re quite peaceful.” I saw that he had exchanged his knife for his pistol again. Now he replaced the weapon.

  “Alone against two men with guns? You won’t shrink back from anything, would you?”

  “Those two were no challenge. Let’s go.”

  “What would be a true challenge for you then?” He took the coffee cup off his car’s roof and took a sip. In the roadhouse’s spacious parking lot, we didn’t have to fear an interruption.

  “To intrude the Cartel headquarters, perhaps.”

  “Ha! I wouldn’t put that past you.”

  “Thanks. I only must find it first.”

  He watched me with surprise. “You don’t know where they are located?”

  “No, how should I?”

  “I thought it’d be obvious. Ah no, you don’t know Vegas’ recent history. After the Invasion, when government and police were busy stabilizing the country, they settled here and cleaned up without qualms. So Vegas suddenly became a safe and peaceful harbor in those wild times. That’s been tolerated, as racketeering, gambling and pimping seemed to be less ugly than pillaging, rape, and murder. When the situation improved two years later, the Cartel people had established themselves here. People like me have been fine with that, too. You simply couldn’t talk with some of the maniacs here. You understand?”

  No, I didn’t. But I nodded and listened.

  “In any case, right after that they erected two new hotel-casinos, the Invasion and the Inferno. There wasn’t much talk about it, but it was clear that they’d move in there. Both hotels are fortresses, didn’t you notice?”

  “Now that you mention it, yes.”

  “Right. Moreover, they’re connected underground. That’s not listed in any plan, but you couldn’t hide the hole during the construction works. So, somewhere in the heart of these two buildings, you’d find the puppet masters. Only—not even you would get in there easily.”

  No, it surely wouldn’t be easy. But finally I had a lead!

  “Then perhaps we should talk about what challenge you’ve got for me this time?”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “This is it.” Gomez pointed at a wrought-iron gate. Behind the gate, a white gravel road led through between old trees to a stately cottage. “A tough nut.”

  “I see. Cameras on the walls with overlapping viewing area, ultrasonic motion detectors, infrared barriers, and windows and doors will probably secured separately. Are there guard dogs?”

  “You see all that on a first glimpse?”

  No, I also hear it. “Sure. I’m experienced.” Would they have these ugly sticky nets, too? I wasn’t at all inclined to repeat that kind of experience.

  “Well, no, I don’t know about dogs. But I’m here for the first time, too.” He leaned forward, ready to step closer. I held him back.

  “Stay away. We don’t want to show up on the cameras.”

  “Oh. Then we better return tonight.”

  “No, I’d say I go in now.”

  “Now? You just said—”

  “That this house is systematically secured, exactly. It looks so perfect that possible guards will rely on the system, especially during the day. So I must get in during daylight.” I didn’t mention that my camouflage would have trouble with spotlights.

  “But if it’s so well secured, you won’t get through?”

  “The cameras have their weaknesses, ultrasonic doesn’t respond to cats and birds, and I simply have to avoid infrared.”

  “And the doors and windows?”

  “Watch the roof windows. They’re usually forgotten.”

  “Oh.”

  “So, ‘til then.” I left him, stepped from the street between the trees and disappeared.

  Objects like this villa were always secured professionally and with state-of-the-art technology. Normally, specialized companies performed the installation. The results were good, but at the same time predictable, too. With my experience, I meanwhile could spot the handwriting of different companies.

  Even if the price was surely no issue for some clients, professionals considered their measures’ usefulness. No expert would expose himself by selling unnecessary decorations to a good client—if that became public, he’d be out of business. The security branch based its living on trust and discretion.

  Accordingly, you didn’t need cameras on the roof and no elaborate security for roof windows, because no burglar would get that far—he’d long be spotted during his crossing of the open areas.

  If any guests arrived by helicopter or parachute, they wouldn’t be stopped by passive means anyway. Those who needed protection against such assaults needed a fortress and their own army.

  Between these, there were no other known options. As I didn’t face a fortress, security was limited to normal burglar protection, and that couldn’t stop me.

  The cameras didn’t see me, the infrared light barriers didn’t touch me, and I waited during the brief intervals of the ultrasonic sweep. Within minutes, I was on the roof—on the side opposite to Gomez—and checked the small roof window.

  The bolt looked strong. In exchange, the hinges were outside. Ridiculous. But stop! What hair-fine shadow was that? Dust that had attached itself to a likewise fine and perfectly veiled wire. So the window was secured, after all. I examined the window from all angles.

  The wire led toward the bolt. More wasn’t visible from the outside. A tear-off safety?

  Should I give up here and check a different window? No. If one was protected, the others would be protected, too. Either I’d get in here or nowhere, and I wasn’t ready to give up yet.

  First, I drilled a hole into the lower frame with the aid of the nano tools in my fingers, right next to the place where the wire disappeared from view. Now I would have a glance at the decisive spot.

  Hello?

  Why didn’t that work now?

  —Request unclear.—

  I have a nano manipulator in my finger. It also has a nanoscope component, right?

  —Positive.—

  I’d like to see the nanoscope image.

  —The image is available.—

  Why didn’t I see it then? Where?

  —The image is displayed within your Analogy.—

  Crap, sure. I wasn’t wearing VR glasses, and it would’ve been much too cumbersome to insert the image into my visual nerve. I closed my eyes and focused inward.

  A blurred impression swam past, and mentally I grabbed it. Focus. Exactly.

  There.

  My extra eye captured the fine sensor that should pick up window vibrations, and the clearly visible plug. The bolt itself wasn’t wired, and the plug could simply be pulled off if someone wanted to open the window.

  Immediately next to the plug, the wire had a lit
tle leeway—enough for me.

  I only had to push the bolts out of the hinges, slightly lift the window there, put one arm through and pull the plug. Then I could loosen the bolt and open the window all the way. No problem, no spectators, no cameras on the roof.

  I was inside.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Hello, Gomez. Can we?”

  My principal flinched. “Velvet, you’re killing me. Do you have to sneak up this way?”

  “An old habit that I’d better not shake off.”

  He produced a slant smile. “Well. You’re back soon. No way in, right?”

  In lieu of an answer I shrugged. “Let’s move.”

  “Okay.”

  We entered the car and drove off. Until we had reached the highway, we both remained silent.

  “We could make another attempt tonight.”

  “What for?” I opened my palm and held my booty up toward him—a small velvety bag with gems.

  “You’ve got it?”

  “Sure.”

  “Curse me, Velvet. That fast? Damn, was the door left open?”

  “About right.”

  For a few minutes, he only focused on the road. “And these are the right pebbles?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sure?”

  “Exactly to your specification. Number, color, carat match. And the data your client needs is inside, too.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You hadn’t mentioned it, but the crystals’ molecular structure is changed in some places. Overall, this constitutes a data pattern. I assume it’s the pattern that your client wants. I mean, who’d be deprived of some gems that can be legally bought from any jeweler?”

  “I didn’t think about that. I thought those were special gems.”

  “They’re very special. But size, form and color aren’t special. The inner values count.”

  “And how did you find out about it?”

  “There was a reading device in the safe. I’ve figured out the rest myself.” That was an outright lie. Yes, I had seen the reader—after I had recognized and read out the crystal structure changes with a nanoscopic examination. Nobody needed to know that I now knew the content. Or better, nobody should know it, because I could well imagine that the clients wouldn’t want to see this message in the hands of a stranger.

  “It would be better if you didn’t tell your clients. I’m sure they still believe that nobody knows their means of message transmission—at least not us.”

  “Oh, sure. I’d have come to the same conclusion. Damn—if I could know it, I could ask for quite a different price.”

  “Indeed. We should change cars soon.”

  “Why? Anything wrong with this one?”

  “Yes—we’ve been using the same for too long now. What do you think will the previous owners do once they notice the gems missing?”

  “Dragon piss. You’re right again.” He batted the wheel. “That’s a fucking rookie’s mistake. Girl, you’ve so much tripped me up, that I can’t think clearly. Okay.”

  The next moment, he pulled to the side and stopped. “Get out.”

  “Here?” I looked around—only bushy landscape, no house, no other road.

  “Right here. Come.” He left the car and simply marched through between the bushes. Puzzled, I followed.

  “Why here?”

  “Our pursuers will ask themselves the same. There’s no reason. The tank is half full, the motor’s fine, here’s nothing to stop for—except if you’ve been picked up by another car. We, however, will reequip elsewhere.”

  “You know the area?”

  “Even if you’ve gained a different impression of me—I’ve done my homework. Yes, I’ve checked the map. One and a half miles from here, we’ll hit a minor road, there we’ll procure transport, no problem.”

  “Well then.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Business with Gomez went well—too well. He acquired clients, I did the job, and we shared the money evenly. For pure broker work, he earned too well, but I didn’t care as long as my ends met.

  “Again, a walk in the park for you,” Gomez commented with regard to the nice cottage.

  “Looks like that, doesn’t it?” I examined the well-groomed lawn with the carefully cut topiaries. Three-hundred meters approach without any cover, the usual surveillance installations like cameras and ultrasonic were clear to see or hear, and of course this cottage had some roof windows, too. Only these roof windows were freshly added. That was well concealed, but I nevertheless spotted it.

  “As easy as the gem job,” I stated. “I only must reach the house unseen, up to the roof, through the window, and I’m inside.”

  “I don’t know how you do it, but it sounds easy.”

  “Only this time there are no old trees to cover me. And as soon as I’m inside, the trap springs.”

  “Which trap?”

  “The roof windows are new, built for me specifically. I can’t see what kinds of nastiness are hidden inside, but I’m sure that the exit will be blocked as soon as someone goes in through the window.”

  “Dragon dirt. And now? As I know you, you’ll go in anyway.”

  “I could do that. I could spring the trap and get out anyway.”

  “Sounds like a statement. Sure?”

  “Quite sure. Perhaps I even might get in without springing the trap. That would be a decent challenge.”

  “Which you accept, of course.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No, Gomez. Here’s nothing to gain. The entire job is meant to lure us into the trap, you and me, and to find out along the way how I’m doing it. The target object, if it at all exists, is worthless. If we’d manage to get away and deliver it, the third trap would spring.”

  “The third? Where’s the second?”

  “We’re already inside.”

  That was only logical. If someone was after me, then after my driver, too. If Gomez wasn’t even part of the trap—no, for that, he probably earned too much from me.

  “Word of our success has spread. We’ve been too good, and now someone strikes back, who we’ve nagged too much.”

  “Crap. And now?” He produced his pistol.

  “Put that thing away, it’s too noisy. And come with me.”

  I ran away from the road into the forest. Gomez had to follow me.

  He’d almost have run into me, when I abruptly stopped.

  “What?” he whispered.

  I pointed at a piece of bark at the next tree. “There’s a trap inside, probably such a sticky throwing net.”

  The smell was barely noticeable, but nevertheless not to be mistaken. Gomez glanced at me with raised eyebrows, but didn’t comment on it. We took the slightly less comfortable way around the other side of the tree and left the trap behind us.

  A short time later, I had to stop again, briefly turned around and placed a finger on my lips. Gomez frowned. I showed him two fingers and the direction from where I’d heard noises. He pointed at his pistol grip. I shook my head and signaled him to wait. Then I scurried away between the trees.

  The two guys who probably should intercept us were still entirely innocent. They were casually leaning on a tree not far from their all-terrain vehicle. One was playing with his mobile phone, and the other devoutly picked his nose.

  Before I approached closer, I checked the surroundings again. I wouldn’t put a trap in the trap in the trap past these people—were there cameras, tripwires, hidden reinforcements?

  Only after having reliably negated all three questions and circled the two guys three times did I strike. For that, I didn’t even need camouflage. I simply rushed out of the forest, knocked the player out and then the nose-picker. Done.

  “You can come.”

  Shortly after, while I arranged the two guys more comfortably, Gomez appeared from the forest. “I didn’t hear you. You’re sneaking better than a cat.” He gazed at the two men who I had taken out, and reached for the pocket in whi
ch I knew his knife. “So these are two of the people who’d place a trap for old Gomez?”

  “Please leave them. They’re just hired. We’d better talk to your client.”

  “You’re too soft-hearted, Velvet. Well, okay.”

  Soft-hearted? I? No. But murder wasn’t my business.

  “So we have a new car,” he noticed.

  “Crouch down.” I did the same and pointed at the underbody, where a flat black bulge didn’t exactly fit the car.

  “Three times stirred Dragon poo. A devilish disguise. How did you spot that?”

  “Oh, I pondered why the guys hadn’t waited inside their car in this heat. Moreover, it seemed to be advisable to not underestimate our opponents. They’ve invested a lot of effort into this trap.”

  “Well, so we’ll walk on foot then.”

  “Nah. Their actual car’s hidden under some branches three-hundred meters on.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “I wouldn’t have found it,” Gomez admitted while we removed the branches that had been spread over the car for camouflage.

  I pointed at a spot near the hiding place. “Have a look there. A tire track on the leave.”

  “Hum. Oh, there! Darn, that’s just a few square inches!”

  “You know, if you want to be a successful burglar, you must watch for the details.”

  “Crap, yes. But not all over the forest.”

  I didn’t further comment on that. “Okay, let’s drive before someone misses the guys.”

  “Sure. Who’s driving?”

  “Me.”

  That’s what I did, on the brink of insanity, as Gomez briefly later uttered after having overcome his first terror. My Analogy helped me to extraordinary coordination at the wheel. I unabashedly utilized it to steer the car through the forest at the highest possible speed, as I didn’t have to fear an immediate break of my cover. He simply regarded it as recklessness and luck.