Edward
Page 6
There were a half dozen musicians and dancers dismissed to the front row of seats so Edward took the opportunity to mingle. Edward smiled as he closed on the group, the lone smiling musician was there. She looked fairly young and had a beautiful coat, earthy brown with large black rosettes she looked liked a clouded leopard topped with a short crop of black hair. It was a curiously short haircut, almost boyish but it served her well enough as her smile alone could light up the room.
“Was there a problem up there miss?” asked Edward.
She turned and swished her whiskers as she tried to place him, “Yeah, the second guitar and all the dancers totally trashed the fourth number. It's a rough piece, but I just don't think they practiced enough.” She looked him up and down again, “You aren't from the media. Who are you, may I ask?”
Edward smiled broadly and offered his hand, “Edward Silverglade. I’m part of Tatiana's security detail until things calm down.”
She smiled formally and shook his hand, “I'm Zoë Sylva. Violin and piano. About the only two instruments not run through two tons of electronic distortion.” She paused and looked him over a bit, “Security, but no sidearm. Are you a Highlander?”
Edward smiled and nodded, “Yes indeed. Good call.”
“Were you with Tatiana when things got ugly last night?”
“Yes ma'am. It was quite a mess, but no one got seriously hurt. We were lucky.”
“Oh, you can just call me Zoë. I saw part of that on the news. Looked quite scary. We were afraid she wasn't going to show today.”
“What, you didn't want the day off?” joked Edward.
Zoë laughed, “You have to be kidding. If practice gets canceled we don't get paid.”
“Tough gig.”
“Music is a hard gig in general. But you pay your dues and you claw your way up to the top, or you just have fun as you go along for the ride.”
“I assume you are just going along for the ride?”
Zoë laughed, “What, you think I have no ambition?”
“No, it's just that you were the only one besides Tatiana that looked like they were having fun up there.”
“You got me there. I play violin and piano. I'm never going to draw a crowd like her. But that is okay, I should be able to still be performing when I'm sixty.”
“That seems like a healthy attitude.” Edward's mind raced, “You play piano; just out of curiosity, have you heard of Ivy Stratford?”
Zoë's face lit up, “Oh my word, yes! I had a chance to hear her play live back when I was little. She was wonderful. No. She was better than that. She could draw a crowd like Tatiana. She toured for two years and then disappeared. Why do you ask?”
“Well, Gillian mentioned that Ivy was well known but I couldn't tell if she was just being polite or if she was serious.”
“Being polite? I don't follow.”
“Oh. My oldest brother is married to Ivy Stratford.”
“Really?” Zoë beamed. “Now I think you are just being a name dropper.”
“I wish. I grew up living in my brother's shadow and now I find I'm living in Ivy's shadow too.”
Zoë laughed, “Yeah, I bet being part of a famous family could be rough.”
“If you don't mind me asking,” began Edward, “how is Gillian to work for? She looks like a bit of a live wire out there. Is she well liked?”
Zoë furrowed her eyebrows as she thought a bit, “Well I'm new to this gig so I don't really know how well the rest of the crew likes her, but as far as working for her? She's about average. She is a little more aggressive than some, but she isn't vindictive or spiteful. She is very professional.” She laughed a bit to herself, “Quite honestly I was worried about the whole 'cult of the diva' thing working here and honestly it’s not been that big of a deal. Gillian is very professional and while Tatiana isn't very chummy with us, she isn't condescending to us or her fans. As far as pop music gigs go, it would be a cakewalk if it wasn't for how aggressive the schedule is.”
“Got to pay for it somewhere, eh?”
“Yep! But this time a year from now...”
“Edward, you there?” chirped his comlink.
Edward rolled his eyes, “Excuse me, work calls.”
Zoë laughed lightly as Edward turned away.
“Edward here, what is up?”
“We were too late. When we broke down the door, someone had already taken out the suspect. Very grim and very professional. Well save a printed note on the body that said 'Sorry Tatiana.'”
“So we are back to square one?” Oh! What a mess! Suddenly the concert hall seemed to double in size! How could they possibly protect it all?
“Not entirely. We've a lot we can learn, just not as much as we had hoped. Stay focused, things are still very much hot.”
“We have a couple weeks until the first concert, please tell me we can wrap it all up before then.”
“I hope so! Keep your eyes and ears open, but spend most of your time with your eyes on the client. Got that?”
“Yes indeed. Odd question, what’s the possibility that Gillian is the target?”
“Thought of that and we are working that as an angle too, but for the time being you stick with Tatiana. We may end up putting Alex on Gillian if we can't sort things out. I don't know. Honestly I'm a little flustered right now.”
“Gotcha. Sorry. I know you are busting your butts. Well I got to get back to the client.”
“Speaking of butts...”
“Can it Trevor. Out.”
“Out.”
Gillian walked over from the edge of the stage to address the musicians in the front row, “You are dismissed for the day with full pay. I expect to see you at eight tomorrow and we will try this again. Thank you for your professionalism.”
There was a small celebration on the side and no small amount of groaning from the stage. People quickly moved to pack up their instruments and bag their personal effects. Well at least a third of the crew was happy to work for Gillian today!
“We have an inbound reading on motion sensor number 14,” chirped the comlink.
“That's roof access by the air handling unit,” replied Edward. “Is the maintenance crew doing something?”
“Negative,” came Kadu's voice over the link. “All building staff was signed out at six-thirty. That is not far from the catwalk for the power cables to the stage lights.”
Not good. That would quickly lead to the stage at an angle that was hard to view.
“Alex, take the stairs. I'll take the ladder to the catwalk directly over the stage.”
“D-tack,” replied Alex.
Edward raced to the edge of the stage and searched for a ladder up. He had seen one earlier! Where was it? Other side of the stage! Too far now so Edward shot up the side of the stage climbing up the scaffolding instead. He caught more than a few odd glances from the gaffers and Gillian as well, but he had a place to be and 'up' was it. As he climbed out onto the maze of catwalks high over the stage, he shifted the color of his fur coat to dark colors and splotches to more readily blend in. What a mess! Cables and pot lights everywhere and the lights were hot! As if he was stalking a deer, Edward slowly moved toward the center spar. Foot over foot, slow and graceful, married to the shadows, he moved silently closer and closer. There! There in the shadows ahead he spotted his target.
It was a Taik with dark fur and dressed in dark colors. He was stationary, kneeling, removing something from a bag. Edward carefully moved closer for a better look and his fears were confirmed. “Target sighted with a rifle,” he whispered over his comlink before he turned it off. Closer. Must get closer. The man brought the rifle up to his shoulder. Out of time! Edward followed the aim down to the stage below and, to no surprise, it came to bear on Tatiana. No time for stealth, time for speed! Edward jumped from the catwalk down to the stage below. As he fell his Live Steel Armor wrapped around him and he slammed to the stage in front of Tatiana just in time to catch a bullet smashing against his armor.
His target wasted no time leaving and tore across the stage at breakneck speed and down the side corridor toward the rear exit. Edward ran after him at top speed and silently had to curse himself, the man was simply faster than he was. No two ways about it, he was the slower of the two! But Edward wasn't going to give up and made up his mind to rely on endurance if he didn't have speed. As he made the first set of doors he heard the odd footsteps of a Shukurae behind him. Kadu! Excellent! As she passed him, he leaped onto her back. Now they were the faster! Just like old times, the pair tore down the halls at a thunderous pace. Even with Kadu ducking slightly they were still making a good time and starting to catch up. As they rounded the last door and burst outside they crashed through the recently dismissed musicians.
Chaos greeted them as there were people everywhere but that gray outfit was in hard contrast to the lively outfits of the musicians. Their joy was short lived for as they closed so, too, did an exotic motorcycle. Black and silver with its turbine whining, it slid short of their man and he hopped on the back. The pair lurched and was soon off with a squeal of tires and whine of the turbine opening up.
Kadu slapped her comlink and barked back to the rest of the crew while Edward turned and addressed the musicians, “Any of you able to follow that?”
“Are you crazy?” was the mostly uniform response. Not that Edward could blame them.
“I can't go very fast unless I yank the governor. You going to handle the cops if I pull it out?” came the reply from Zoë. Edward blinked, he almost didn't recognize her wearing motorcycle armor. Leather, titanium and Kevlar, practical if not a little out of place for what he had expected for a pianist.
Edward had no idea what she was talking about, “If it means you can go faster, we'll work it out.”
“Excellent!” she beamed with a childish grin. “Tomish, can you loan him a helmet!”
Soon Edward found himself on the back of Zoë's blue and black motorcycle. As he fit his helmet and tied his comlink into the helmets radio, she pulled a circuit board from the engine's computer and the turbine started to whine to life.
“We are losing time,” muttered Edward.
“Sorry, it takes time for the engine to come on line. Your people have any info at all?”
“Up and out, then north to the main exchange is all we know.”
“30k rpm. Okay. Let's go.” Zoë expertly opened up the throttle and they shot out the back lot at an alarming rate. Edward found he had to hold on much tighter than he had expected. “Watch the hands please,” came Zoë's voice.
“Sorry,” blurted Edward over the bike's comm system. He quickly slid his hands down a little lower and a lot tighter as they continued to accelerate. A pair of airfoils unfolded from the middle of both of the wheels. The little wings fluttered with the turns and strained to keep the bike glued to the ground. He risked a peek at the bike's gauges, they were showing 150 km/h and the engine was at 40k rpm. “How fast does the engine rev up to?”
“80k rpm with the governor off. We have full magnetic coupling to both wheels so we ought to be able to hit 300 in the straight-of-ways.”
Traffic! Lots of traffic! They started weaving in and out of traffic at what Edward was sure was an insane speed.
“Lean into the turns, darn it! The bike won't fall over! Lean!” barked Zoë.
Edward nodded. That was silly! She couldn't see him nod. But as they started to thread through traffic again, Edward, much against his better judgment leaned into the turns and they were, in fact, faster and smoother.
“Quick learner! Excellent! Woo! This is fun! Never had it up this fast inside the city!”
That wasn't exactly inspiring but she was handling the bike expertly. More importantly Edward could see the fugitive pair on their bike less than a half a kilometer ahead and they were closing fast. “Trevor, I have visual. Less than 500 straight ahead.”
“Relaying to the locals. I should have the pair of you on a street camera in 15.”
“How close do you want me to get?” asked Zoë.
“Impress me.”
Edward could make out a faint giggle as they continued to close. Suddenly the second bike lurched ahead.
“Oh no you don’t!” screamed Zoë as she opened the throttle all the way.
Edward had to use his claws to hold on they accelerated so hard. He was glad the bike was a two wheel drive or he was sure he would have been thrown off the back. Instead, he was merely hanging on for dear life. And here he had thought orbital insertions were a rough ride! At least there he was in a capsule to protect him and they were flying in a ballistic arc. Here the wind was buffeting him directly and they were zigging back and forth at a furious rate.
Something caught Edward's eye. Something small from the back of the other motorcycle. “Grenade!” screamed Edward.
Zoë swerved the bike over to the median and with a careful flick of the wrist tweaked the commands to the airfoils in the wheels and suddenly the entire bike briefly went airborne, hopping the dividing barrier. They now had a concrete barrier between them and the grenade. They were now also going the wrong way in traffic! Zoë kept the bike glued to the narrow shoulder while vehicles blew past them a whisker’s width away. A flash and crack announced the detonation of the grenade, and Zoë repeated the hop back over the median. Not only had they avoided the grenade, they had also closed ground!
“200 meters and closing,” called out Edward.
“We have you both on traffic control. The locals are hard pressed to get ground assets in front of you. Gunship will be airborne in less than five minutes.”
“Where could they be going? They would have to expect to be picked up on traffic cameras.”
“The old ship docks,” interjected Zoë. “Very few cameras and the sats can't track well in the concrete jungles. That is where they have all the motorcycle races.”
“You catch that Trevor?”
“Yes. The locals confirm that as a reasonable local. Diverting ground assets there now.”
“They saw us again!”
Sure enough the other bike started to try and pull away again weaving aggressively through the late morning traffic. Zoë growled and her bike hummed as they rocketed after them deftly dodging the other commuters. Zoë had the more powerful bike, that was showing. She also had the least experienced passenger, that too was showing! But Edward wasn't going let himself be the stumbling block.
“If I jump off the bike sideways, will it knock you off balance?” asked Edward.
“If I know you are going to do it, I can lean the bike into it. No problem,” replied Zoë. “Are you sure you want to jump off at 180 kilometers per hour?”
“You worry about getting close enough that I can jump. I'll worry about how fast we are going.”
“I'm going to pull up hard to the side of them. I'm going to expect you to jump. If you don't, we'll ram them and it'll be bad for all of us.”
“Understood.”
Zoë opened up the throttle all the way again and Edward found his claws sinking deep into her driving suit. He'd probably need to buy her a new one when this was over. They scraped the airfoils as they threaded between a pair of vehicles and briefly pulled ahead of their prey. Zoë then snapped the steering and brakes and sent them careening toward the other bike. At the last second, Edward raised his Live Steel armor in a blue shower of sparks and jumped off Zoë’s bike, slamming sideways into the two on the back of the other bike. He desperately grabbed hold of both of them as he felt his armor extend around them. Good.
Otherwise they weren't going to survive the fall.
Falling sideways off a motorcycle is never a graceful thing. Doing it at 200 km/h is even less so. Fortunately for those involved, Edward's armor cocooned them all as they bounced off the pavement, through a street sign, a billboard, over an embankment and into a lamppost. When the three of them at last came to a stop, the other two seemed more amazed at their lack of injuries than anything else. Tickled pink to have his quarry, Edward, winked in a pair of Live Steel swords and kept his prisoners in place as he waited for the police to arrive.
10
As per protocol for a highway accident, the pair were examined at the hospital before being remanded back to the police and the 517th. Edward made his statement and soon returned to the concert hall, while Trevor and the locals spent hours interviewing the pair.
Gillian cornered Edward as he walked back in the door, “You caught them then? So it’s over?”
Edward frowned, “Well, yes, we caught the gunman, but we don't think it’s over.”
“How so?”
“From what we can tell, the guy was a hired gun from off world, and the driver was from a local motorcycle gang. They were both paid for their services.”
“Hired?”
“Yes ma'am, er, Gillian. Now here is the weird part. From what we understand, and we have no reason to disbelieve the man, he was shooting to wound. The goal was to make sure the concert was canceled. This is starting to smell like some bizarre insurance scam or something. Who would profit if the concert was canceled?”
“Um, the local unions. But honestly that is petty money. That all sounds pretty far-fetched.”
“I know, but we have to check every angle.”
“You really think he was shooting to wound?”
“Considering where I was hit and where I was standing relative to Tatiana, I'd say she would have been shot in the lower leg. Also consider the bullet was a solid low velocity round; if you wanted to shoot to kill you would use a high velocity hollow point round. It's all quite a mess.” Edward’s brain churned, grasping for straws, “Are there rival acts that would go this far to try and cancel a show?”