by L. V. Lloyd
Mike was still piecing events together. “Has anyone heard who the fatality is yet?” Everyone stared at him. “It was on the news. Captain Spier said there was one fatality.”
Vinh was the first to put thought into words. “Chang! It must have been Chang himself!”
Mike bit his lip. If Chang had been killed in the second explosion, that put a whole new complexion on Callan’s disappearance. He supposed it was possible Callan had been kidnapped by a rival, but wasn’t it more likely he had become a pawn in the power struggles to fill Chang’s place? Mike didn’t know which was more frightening.
“Vinh? Can you take Ser Keating with you to the clinic?”
“Sure. I think Muller should come with us, I might need help with Talyor.”
“Both of you go,” agreed Dane. “I’ll stay here, in case we get instructions about the ransom. I can get the office console on Asra routed through to the unit here on Rover.”
Mike frowned briefly but then nodded. It wasn’t as if Dane had been at the Victory. If Captain Spier wanted to talk to him, she could contact him easily enough on the Rover.
“I’m going to pay Captain Spier a visit, in person. Bring her up to speed on what we know,” decided Mike. Much as the AISS men wanted to manage their own affairs, they needed help. And that was apart from the fact that as a Patrol officer, he was legally obliged to co-operate with the police. Going off on a hunt of his own wouldn’t do his career any good, even if he knew where to start.
“Can I have a word before you go?” Dane murmured to Mike, as Vinh and Muller helped Ser Keating to his feet.
“Of course.” What was Dane up to now? The Lieutenant hoped he wasn’t going to tell him about anything criminal, that Mike would feel guilty passing on to Captain Spier. He gave a wry grimace. Last time Dane had wanted to speak to him privately, he had tried to seduce him, at least this time it was bound to be something about Callan! Even a blind man could see how worried he was about him.
Dane waited until they were alone on the ship before turning to Mike, getting as close as he could without actually touching. “You’ll do everything you can to find Callan, make sure he’s safe? Won’t you?” He looked searchingly into Mike’s eyes, trying to see if he was as committed as he wanted him to be.
“I’ll do my best, I promise you.”
Dane didn’t seem to be totally convinced. To Mike’s complete astonishment, Dane cupped a hand behind his head and smoothly drew his mouth down to his own, crowding Mike back against the wall of the ship. His lips pressed firmly against those of the other man. They felt soft and warm and... what on Earth did Dane think he was doing? Mike pulled away sharply. “It’s hardly the right time for this!” he protested, a little angrily.
“Relax,” murmured Dane, letting his fingers play with the soft hair at the nape of Mike’s neck. “This is not a seduction.”
“No?” asked the Lieutenant dryly.
“Think of it more as an incentive,” smiled Dane. “If you can get Callan back for me, I’m likely to be very grateful.”
Chapter Twenty
Mike stared down at Dane with a mixture of irritation, lust and a reluctant touch of amused admiration. That was twice now Dane had caught him, teasing him when he knew Mike wasn’t in a position to follow through. He might be a slow learner, but next time he would be ready. If Dane tried anything like that again, he might find he’d get a lot more than he bargained for. He touched Dane lightly on the tip of his nose and smiled. “I’m counting on it.”
The look of uncertainty on Dane’s face was enough to have Mike smiling all the way out of the ship.
Callan had been allowed to get up, which he did very gingerly, to use the facilities and wash his face. He thought Tate believed what he had told him but he wasn’t so sure about the other man. There had been no talk of letting Callan go back to the ship, for instance. He considered he had been patient enough, it was time to get some answers.
As soon as he was back in the small room, he sat down with his back to the wall, making sure he was facing both men. He still couldn’t hear. He needed to see their mouths. “What happened from your end?” he asked.
The two men exchanged glances. Although Tate was the one who answered him, he got the feeling the man in red was the one in charge. He studied him carefully for the first time. The man was slightly built, of average height, black hair and brown eyes. What was particularly interesting was, until that moment, he hadn’t really seen him. He had been focussed on the red uniform. If he had been asked to describe the man wearing it he would have floundered. He would have bet a month’s pay now that that was no accident. A tiny frown creased his brow.
“Much the same. Chang got a similar message, supposedly from Ser Keating, asking for an urgent meeting in room 201.” Tate grimaced. “We didn’t check the room above, either.”
“Do you know who is behind this? You must have some idea,” Callan pushed.
Again the exchange of looks. “Chang has one main rival, a man who wants to take over the whole neighbourhood and run his own form of protection in this part of Kapunda. He doesn’t like the way we do things, you know, trying to provide legitimate security, without threats and intimidation. It’s got to be him, we’re almost certain.”
“He was the one behind the attack on Argos and Sprite?”
“Without a doubt.” Tate was confident.
“So who is this guy?”
“He goes by the name of Mo Khan.”
Callan frowned again. As far as he knew, he had never met the man personally, but the name was familiar, of course, given the line of work he was in. It was a name muttered in whispers, in dark alleys or dingy bars, with a look over the shoulder first to see if anyone was too near. Not someone you wanted to take an interest in you.
“So what are you doing about him?”
An odd expression crossed the face of the man in red, before he answered with a faint smile. “We’re letting the police do most of the work for us.” He checked his wristcom. “By now they should have received a ransom demand for a high profile figure, which unless they are completely incompetent, can be traced back to one Cutter Levi, Khan’s right hand man. There should be ’lice swarming all over them any minute.”
“How is that going to work out? Have you actually kidnapped someone or is it a bluff?”
The man opposite just smiled a little more broadly.
Until that moment, Callan had completely forgotten that as well as being in charge of Ser Keating’s security, he was also the Governor of Asra.
“Your scheme is going to go up in a puff of smoke when they discover you’ve got me, not Khan.” He protested crossly, irritated more than afraid. Whose idiotic idea had this been?
“Don’t worry,” Tate soothed. “It will be enough for our purposes to have Khan under the microscope, being hunted by the authorities. He won’t have a spare moment to worry about taking over our territory. And besides, this room we are in? It’s in the basement of a warehouse, belonging to Khan.” Tate chuckled.
“We’ll leave you some food and water. I expect you’ll be out in a few hours, tomorrow at the latest,” announced the man in red.
“You’re going to leave me here, alone?” asked Callan, alarmed. What if Mo Khan found him first? Would he decide to dispose of the most obvious piece of evidence against him, permanently? His mind conjured up an image of his helpless body being thrown down a mine shaft or stuffed into an industrial disposal unit.
“At least leave me a weapon!”
“Sorry, can’t do that,” his captor apologised. “We want everything to look as realistic as possible.”
“You’ll be fine,” Tate attempted to reassure him. “I’m sure you won’t be here for long.”
It didn’t help. That was what Callan was worried about.
Captain Spier listened carefully to what Lieutenant Oliver had to tell her about the meeting arranged between Ser Keating of Asra and Jian Chang in room 201. His information meshed nicely with what she had alre
ady discovered, although she wasn’t too impressed with the fact that she was getting it second hand through the Lieutenant. She considered he should have brought the principle witnesses with him and found his reply that Ser Keating needed medical treatment, unconvincing.
She dispatched a couple of officers immediately to the Mercy Clinic to interview the three men, quietly studying Oliver as she did so. He was wound as tight as a drum, she could see that only his training was keeping his agitation under control.
It seemed to her that Lieutenant Oliver had rather too much of a personal interest in the case. His main concern appeared to be the safety of Governor Rian, rather than the capture of the people responsible for the bombing. Naturally, the Governor’s safety was important, but kidnappings these days tended to be nonviolent affairs. As long as the family could come up with the negotiated amount of money the victim’s safety was assured.
Although, come to think of it, one hundred thousand credits was a very steep ask—it smacked more of political extortion than ransom. Maybe she had been too eager to take the demand at face value.
Still, she didn’t trust Oliver’s impartiality. If she needed help from the Patrol, she would call on Captain Takamoto from the Oriell space station, in orbit above Burra.
“Do you have any further information on the dead man’s identity?” The Lieutenant broke into her thoughts. “I’m guessing ‘Jian Chang’ wasn’t his real name.”
“Not so far,” she replied. “His DNA is not in any of the usual bases.”
Well, wasn’t that interesting. Although it was not compulsory to have one’s DNA registered, it was always taken as a matter of course when a person attended a medical clinic. It was very unusual for a Burran citizen to have been born outside a clinic, or to have never required treatment for an illness or injury. The absence of a DNA record also meant the dead man had never been imprisoned, or charged with an offence.
“We have a few more avenues to explore,” Captain Spier was saying, “But they’ll take a bit more time. I’ve already sent the request through to Capella and if we don’t get lucky there, we’ll have to look further afield.”
Mike nodded. Of course. No-one knew for certain that Chang had been born on Burra. In theory, he could have come from anywhere, providing he hadn’t used the legal channels for travelling. DNA checks had long since replaced passports.
At that moment, the console unit on Captain Spier’s desk gave a small ping alerting her to the arrival of important information. A hit! Finally. She hesitated for a second, as if she wasn’t quite sure whether to share the information.
“We’ve got an identification for our deceased. He may well have been known as ‘Jian Chang’, but his birth name was Tod Joyce. Are you all right?” She stared in surprise at the Lieutenant, his face had gone completely blank.
Mike looked down at his wristcom and frowned. “Sorry, I thought I was getting a message through from Ser Keating there for a second.” He shook his head and met the Captain’s gaze with a small smile of apology. “I’m sorry, what was that name again?”
Chapter Twenty One
Mike couldn’t remember how he got through the next few minutes. He must have managed something that made sense because here he was, outside the police station, walking briskly along the street. He had absolutely no idea where he was going.
He stopped in his tracks. It had been a shock. Eight long years had passed since he’d last heard that name spoken. He thought he’d made a quick enough recovery in front of Captain Spier, but... He needed time to think, somewhere quiet, where he could battle with his conscience on his own. He looked around and saw a small cafe tucked away on the other side of the street. A few minutes later, he was seated at a tiny table in the back with an unwanted cup of coffee in front of him, his eyes looking blankly into space as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts.
All his training told him he should turn back, right now, and tell Captain Spier what he knew. He could trust her to act on the information appropriately, follow the correct procedures that would lead to the capture of the guilty and rescue of the innocent. That’s what he had always believed, that following the law was the best way to tackle wrongdoing, not by going it alone, taking the law into your own hands, with the ends justifying the means.
It was hard, though. The more primitive part of his brain was screaming that he was the best man for this job and that he needed to act now, alone. He was the one who could track down the people who had Callan, or at the very least knew where he was. He was the one who was prepared to do whatever it would take to get him released.
He knew he could find Callan faster than Captain Spier. Was that enough though, to go against his years of training, against the job he had sworn to uphold? After all, Captain Spier would find Callan eventually, would a few hours delay really matter? His thoughts went round and round.
“I don’t know anything about any fucking ransom! It’s a trick!” Levi shouted. “One of Chang’s tricks to mess with your head. You know I’m your man, I would never betray you!”
Although shouting made him feel better he could tell it wasn’t working on Khan. Levi made an effort to calm his voice. “Exactly how am I supposed to have got hold of the Governor, anyway? When have I been away from here long enough to organise something like that?” he asked, more reasonably.
Khan didn’t answer, just stood there with his arms crossed, glaring coldly. Levi started to get angry all over again. “What? Do you think I’m an idiot? Do you really think that if I had done something like that I would have been careless enough to link my name to it, so that the ’lice could track it back to me in less than a couple of hours?”
He could see that he had finally struck a chord. Khan looked thoughtful for a moment, pursing his lips. Then he swore, loudly and fluently, before he calmed down enough to speak coherently.
“You’re right! It has to be Chang, or one of his men. What are the chances they’ve got the bastard stashed somewhere that points directly to me? I want every building searched, everywhere that I own or have a share in.”
Levi was on his wristcom giving orders before Khan finished talking. “What are you going to do when you find him?” Levi asked, as convinced as his boss, that Callan was somewhere in their territory.
Khan smiled cruelly. “How easy do you think Chang will find it, explaining the presence of the Governor’s body, when it is found in one of his properties?”
Lieutenant Oliver pushed the cold cup of coffee across the table away from him and stood up. He had no choice. He had to stick to his principles and the sooner he told Captain Spier about his inside information, the sooner she could point her forces in the right direction.
As he walked back to the station, his busy mind ran uncomfortably through the approaching scenario again. Naturally, even if she believed him immediately, the Captain would have to take time to check his story, then there would be more time while her team tried to track down Chang’s men. He winced as he imagined the reaction uniformed officers would get from the back street inhabitants, most of whom would pretend ignorance as a matter of course, without even listening to the reasons behind the request. Unconsciously, his footsteps slowed.
It could take hours before they had anything concrete to go on, days even. He glanced down at his Patrol uniform and made up his mind. Fuck it! He couldn’t wait, he had to act. Callan’s safety was the most important thing.
Working quickly, he located the nearest clothes store and left it dressed in fashionably faded jeans and a black teeshirt, his uniform folded in a bag under his arm. He slipped easily down one of the side streets and headed north, the route coming back to him as if he’d never been away. The door he was seeking was still the same faded brown, perhaps even more of the paint had peeled off since he had last seen it. He drew in a deep breath. Eight years. It was a long time. People moved away, died, would he even know the people who lived here now?
He knocked softly. No-one drew unnecessary attention to themselves in this neigh
bourhood. His ears strained but he could hear nothing from the other side, he could only hope someone was there, watching him through a hidden viewer. Impatient, he was just preparing to knock again when the door opened to reveal an old man, bent over with age, his face small and withered like an apple but his eyes bright and snapping. He looked Mike up and down for a moment in silence. “I thought it was you,” he said. “What do you want?”
Chapter Twenty Two
“Hullo Danilo. Can I come in for a minute?” asked Mike, keeping his voice low and even, despite his rising tension.
With evident reluctance, the old man shuffled back a few steps to allow him to enter. As soon as he was through, he shut and locked the door behind him. “Well?” he asked sourly.
“I was sorry to hear about Tod,” Mike offered stiffly.
He got a short grunt in reply.
“Is himself here?”
Mike was surprised at the relief he felt when the old man shook his head. It was probably just as well, their meeting was bound to be excruciatingly awkward, something he really didn’t have the time for right now.
“Who’s in charge then?”
“That would be Tate. He’s a new ‘un.”
“Can I see him? It’s urgent.” Mike felt as if he was pulling teeth. He remembered Danilo had never seemed to like him and it was evident that absence hadn’t made the heart grow any fonder. “It’s about Callan Rian, the man they’ve kidnapped, the Governor of Asra. If he’s killed, or even harmed, I swear to you the Patrol won’t rest until this place is turned upside down and on its head!”
Danilo chewed his lip, debating his answer. “I suppose you’d better then,” he replied grudgingly. “Wait here.”
