by K Bledsoe
“Aren’t you going to follow him?” her daughter asked.
“He won’t be stupid enough to go anywhere near the organization today. That card is message enough.”
Allison’s absent-minded “uh-huh” showed that she was already deep into the computer system.
“Diarmin, give me a triple click when he is close.”
“I will, Nora. Be careful.”
Lenore fought down a surge of emotion. Nora was the name he had known her by for the first five years after they had met.
“I always am. Going dark.” She tapped the implant off and, three deep breaths later, she had dredged the unhelpful emotions. Lenore went to find a place near the traitorous officer’s home to study the loads of data that Allison had most likely already started sending.
***
A little more than three hours later, Lenore felt the triple click on her wrist at the same time she spotted Lieutenant Harwick rounding the corner and heading for his residence. It hadn’t taken long to sift through the data to find her leverage, despite the fact that Allison was extremely thorough, including detailed “urination records” that made Lenore roll her eyes.
As he approached her position, she pushed herself off the wall she had been leaning against and walked toward the lieutenant, timing her steps carefully. A few strides away, he looked up and gave an absent smile as people do when passing strangers on the street. He looked down, but his head jerked back up immediately, and she noted the recognition on his face. But by then she was already next to him.
Her gloved left hand shot out to grab his arm and triggered the semi-paralytic drug in the fourth finger, the same she had used to immobilize Reviewer Jonah. A quick yank of his arm pulled him off balance into the narrow space between two apartment buildings, out of sight from any other pedestrians. She gripped his right arm with her other hand and arranged herself behind him so that she could whisper in his ear.
“Don’t say or try anything stupid. There are two trained snipers, one aiming at your heart, the other at your right eye.” Details made lies more believable. Her voice lowered to a mere thread. “You are a liar and traitor to your department and fellow citizens.”
“I don’t know—”
Lenore pressed the first two fingers of her right glove together and into his flesh, delivering a not-so-mild shock. As his teeth clenched, a quick flick of her right wrist dropped a small blade into her palm, and she snaked her hand around to hold it at his jawline.
“Don’t test my patience, Jon. I only want information and a small favor. If you comply, you and your family will walk away from all this.”
He wisely said nothing.
“I want the boy back, and I know you have connections with the local slave trade that took him.”
He opened his mouth but closed it as Lenore pricked his flesh next to the jugular.
“Good man,” she said, voice still low. “You are going to give me the time and location of the next sale. I am going to get my hands on that wretched boy.” Even she was surprised at the genuine anger in her words. “I figure purchasing him is the easiest way to keep all our limbs intact.”
“They’ll kill me,” he croaked.
“I don’t think so. No one will ever know we have talked. I have a deflector that is hiding our conversation. I will simply show up, buy the boy, and leave. Everyone profits, and nobody gets hurt.”
“Why do you want the boy?”
“That arrogant little bastard stole something worth a lot of money, and I want to know where he hid it.” She chuckled nastily. “And, of course, to teach him a lesson. But that’s none of your concern.” Her left hand tightened even more on his arm. His twitch at the pain made her realize she needed to wrap this up quickly before the drug wore off.
“That daughter of yours, however, is your concern.”
“Are you threatening my family?”
“Of course not. I’m really a non-violent soul. I simply mean that others might be interested to know that she wasn’t adopted through regular channels. Perhaps even sold to you by this organization?” She watched his face closely and noticed the slight jaw clench. “Or even a gift to you and your wife in exchange for a little help now and again.”
The fear in his eyes told Lenore she had him.
“What do you want to know?”
“I’ve already said, but I will repeat it because you are under such stress. I want the time of the next sale, where it is being held, and a way in. Shouldn’t be too much for someone with your, um, standing in the organization.”
“Anything,” he said, and his shoulders slumped as she released the left grip slightly, allowing the paralytic to fade. “Just leave my family out of it.”
“Good boy,” she purred.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Jonah was wrapping up his shift, reviewing video, his mind unbalanced as he reflected on the meeting yesterday. He trusted this Baroness and agreed that the slave trade was the place to start. But was she indeed a Xa’ti’al? It didn’t make sense. Why would they send someone now, this late, when they wouldn’t take the case when it was fresh? Late last night as he was trying to sleep, he came to the sudden realization that she had never answered his question. But she seemed competent, almost frightfully so, he thought as he rubbed his arm. Somehow, she had immobilized him even though he was no slouch with defense, having learned many kinds of fighting, including hand-to-hand. She was an enigma, yet he felt she would be the one to find the princess if it was at all possible. She seemed to have the skills and resources, especially when it was likely that the princess and her companion had been taken offplanet by the slavers so long ago.
If not, if she merely located that information broker, that would greatly help. That woman had information he could use, he was sure. Jonah scrolled absently through the videos, not really paying attention when one of his flagged posts caught his eye.
Ever since his own investigations into the missing girls, he had always tried to keep tabs on those he thought might have connections to the slave organization. This flagged security feed belonged to one of the command posts with local authorities. That blond… was that the Baroness? Wavy blond hair cascaded around her shoulders, framing a low-cut shirt with snug fitted pants. A huge difference from a street beggar, but he was good at discerning features from years of watching people. To verify, he input a facial recognition program and found her at two other similar facilities. Was she just following the information he had given her, or was she forming her own leads? And so quickly. Didn’t she realize she was advertising herself to whomever was behind the kidnappings? He couldn’t listen in on any possible conversations as the only audio he had was within the palace.
Not wanting to take any chances. he erased the feeds and video but realized, looking at the time stamps, that he might already be too late.
***
Raahi stared in disbelief at the ship. They came back? The name listed on the docking monitor was different and the berth was on the other side of the spaceport, but she knew it was the one with the off-worlders who had met with the companion. What luck!
She shook her head, lip curled in disgust at herself for thinking that. She didn’t believe in luck. She had learned the hard way that people made their own good fortune. Those who believed in luck were stupid, lazy folk who blamed others for their misfortune. It had been work and observation that led her back to the ship.
Using her new spaceport uniform, Raahi had wandered the docks, getting used to the surroundings and prowling for anything useful. She had almost passed the ship, but she knew belly-down freighters better than the average citizen, and this one had the same small dent above the tall hatch and scarring on the cargo doors. It had to be the same one, although there was some more carbon scoring along the right side.
In a fight in the two days since they left? No wonder the name was new. Well, time to see what else she could dig up on the people who were proving to be most interesting. She absently scratched her ribs, feeling the
small lump that indicated hidden valuables. One of those items was a dearly paid-for tracking device. Should she use it on this ship or get more information first? It would be extremely useful if they switched berths again, but if they left, she would lose one of her most valuable assets.
She turned to walk away, but a strong instinct spun her back around. She headed toward the ship, looking around carefully for anybody watching. She shrugged. If they left, she could sell their information to cover the price of the tracker. Probably more so, since the name changes and carbon scoring indicated they had some enemies.
Raahi got within throwing distance but far enough away not to set off a proximity alert, then subtly extracted the tracker from the hidden packet. She activated it and felt an affirming ping from her wristcomp. She glanced around again and hesitated. Did she really want to do this? They had met in secret with the companion which is why she figured they would be interested in what she had to sell. However, if she wasn’t careful, she might come to the attention of the royal family, which is not where she wanted to be.
But her intuition told her that this ship and people inside it were her best way to make enough money to get her out of her current life and maybe even off the planet.
She threw the tracker.
***
“Tomorrow,” said Lenore as the hatch closed behind her.
“That doesn’t give us much time,” Diarmin said as she handed him her gloves.
“It’s enough.” She stripped off her wig and headed down the corridor to their room. “Please restore the gloves. The paralytic is gone, and I am sure I used up the charge in the right.”
“Wait, we need to talk about—”
“We’ll talk when I solidify the plans,” her voice echoed back down the hall.
Diarmin followed Lenore to their room. She was already undressing when he entered.
“No, we need to plan together.” He tossed the gloves on the bed. “I am not some flunky who needs to be kept out of the way. You are going to need me. Quinn is my son, too.”
Lenore never paused in changing and headed to the bathroom without comment. Diarmin wasn’t giving up. He knew she was in mission mode, but he had to reach her somehow. He stood in the doorway for several breaths, organizing his thoughts while watching her remove her makeup.
“I do have the occasional good idea, you know.”
Lenore placed her hands on the sink, leaning forward, head bowed as she sighed heavily. Diarmin knew that sigh. It wasn’t one of defeat or sorrow. She was gearing up to tell him off and most likely insult him so that he would walk away and leave her alone. When she straightened up and started to speak, he beat her to it.
“Yes, you’ve worked alone and are good at it. I am not denying that.” Her mouth closed with an audible snap, and her eyes began to smolder. He pressed on. “There is nothing wrong with help, a bit of back up, if you will. I won’t hamper you in any way, and I might just be of some use. Either way, we need to plan together. We have done so in the past, why should this be any different?”
Lenore stared, face blank. Slowly her eyes lost the angry fire, but she still said nothing. He knew he should also be playing the silent game, waiting for her to speak, but he couldn’t stop talking.
“I know you want to keep us safe, but that is not always only up to you.” Her eyebrows raised slightly, but he ignored that. “We are a family, not a military squad that takes orders. We will watch out for each other, help each other and, when absolutely necessary, take risks together because that is what family is about.”
He kept going, uncomfortable with her silent stare.
“We’ll weigh the options and discuss—”
Quick as lightening, Lenore’s hand flashed out to cover his mouth. “Shut up, will you? You’ve convinced me, you big lout. Sometimes I forget that I am part of a family. I’m glad you are here to remind me every now and then.”
He smiled behind her fingers and felt the tension ease.
“But I have the final say,” she added.
Before Diarmin could answer, they both heard pounding footsteps on the ladder and approaching their room. They headed for the door but stopped abruptly as Allison caught herself on the door frame and gasped out her message.
“There’s a problem.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
“I count five in all,” said Allison. They were in her bedroom, eyeing pictures of a blond Lenore on Allison’s personal terminal. “I barely got copies before they were erased.”
“Five images, pulled from a variety of cameras,” said her father. “I don’t understand. How is that a problem if you erased them?”
“But that’s the problem. I didn’t erase them. Someone else did which means they were looking for Mom.” Allison flicked her fingers at her console. “No others were erased that I can find.”
“It could be the Reviewer at the palace,” said her mother. “Nobody else would have any reason to.”
Allison closed her mouth, lips pressed together. “The deletion pattern is very similar to his previous deletions, but I would have to run detailed specs to be sure. But the point is, if he and I found the images, someone else could have as well, before they were erased.”
Lenore reached out to pat her on the arm. “You were smart, Alli, to look for them.”
Allison smiled, her mother’s calm helping her feel a little better.
But not her father. “The fact still remains, however, that we have to assume that your cover is blown, Lenore. The slavers are most likely expecting you and know that you are not what you seem.”
“Maybe, maybe not. We always knew that possibility existed. I can get around that.”
“Right. Another disguise?” Diarmin shook his head. “These are not simple criminals. This is a highly ordered and lucrative business, well-protected and well established. They are sure to see through any disguise.”
“I do have some that you have never seen. I haven’t used them in a long time.”
Diarmin didn’t answer, just tilted his head and pursed his lips. Lenore looked away for several long moments. Allison and her father exchanged knowing glances.
“We’ll stick with the plan. Diarmin, you and I will pose as buyers, nose around, find Quinn, get him and get out. Simple and quick.”
“And me? Where am I during all this?” asked Allison. “Staying here won’t do me, you two, or Quinn any good.” She charged on before her parents could interrupt. “I am not stupid, Mom. I know this organization is massive and very good. And like I said, I would rather be far from any fight. But I’ve been thinking that they might find records of us and come after the ship and then where would I be? The safest place I could be is with you and…” She reached under her computer console and pulled out a bag. “You are going to need this.”
“What is that?” asked Diarmin.
Allison emptied the bag onto her bed. Random junk scattered, a hand comp, small data files, what appeared to be a pocket light, and even a hand recorder.
“This,” she said proudly, “is my secret project. These items may seem harmless but, when assembled correctly, they create a portable scanner, which you are going to need when inside. Chances are this is the same slave trade that existed when the princess and her companion went missing so we might get some very useful information while inside searching for Quinn. And since they have a scattering field around the building, the scanner needs to be inside to work.” She crossed her arms again. “So, I need to go, too.”
Dad seemed to appreciate her logic, but Mom wasn’t going to give in.
“Show us how to assemble and use that,” said Lenore.
“It’ll take too long,” said Allison, “and it’s very difficult to control or read unless—”
“I will think about bringing you because you would be safest with me. But,” Lenore held her finger up. “You can also be safe if you are offplanet when we hit the slave ring. So, while I am considering where you will be, teach your father how to use your scanner.” She shot
to her feet and paced the few steps to the door, stopped and pivoted back to look at the other two, face flushed and eyes just a bit wild.
“Let’s brainstorm, everyone. This plan has to be perfect.”
***
Quinn heard the click before the door opened and sat up on the edge of the bed to face his captors. He fought against the urge to scratch or tug at his collar and stared instead at the two men who came in, his old pals, Jerk Man and Muscles. Muscles carried a chair and set it down. Jerk Man sat, crossing his arms while Muscles took a menacing stance near the door. Quinn wondered if they were deliberately mimicking holo dramas, or this was how criminals acted. Despite the irreverent thought, he kept his face expressionless.
“So, mystery boy. You are evidently much more than you appear,” said Jerk Man. Quinn fought against showing a reaction, but his heart pounded a bit harder. He had already decided silence was his best option, so he simply waited for the man to continue.
“I am given to understand that you have obtained something of great value, and the owners are willing to pay very highly to have it back.” He smiled slightly at Quinn’s sudden intake of breath but had misread the reaction.
That must be the cover story Mom came up with. I have to play along. He smiled faintly. It also must mean she’s still alive.
“Think you are clever, do you?” His eyes narrowed. “What did you take?”
Quinn didn’t know what to say. What thing could a kid like himself have stolen that would be worth a lot. Jewelry? Art? Engine parts? His mind raced until the sudden pain around his neck jolted his thoughts. It only lasted a second, but it was enough to make his head swim and grab involuntarily at the collar.
“I asked you a question, boy.”
“I…I…” was all he got out before the electric surge again. This time was much longer, and when it stopped, he lay gasping on the bed. He vaguely heard footsteps and was jerked back to a sitting position by Muscles grasping the front of his shirt. Jerk Man’s face leaned in close.
