by Mel Odom
“As prejudiced as most of those slotters are in the Tir,” Wheeler said, “there’s no way in hell.”
“Why hasn’t someone else figured this out?” Trey asked.
He steepled his forefingers under his chin and studied the image on the display.
“Why would they try?” Archangel asked. “Tavis Silverstaff, and perhaps his family, would be the only ones who might have wanted to check her out. Cosmetic surgery of this type wouldn’t be visible through magical means. If she told her husband, and I’m thinking she probably did, he’d have helped make sure her elven identity was locked because he loved her. And with NuGene in such financial straits, why would anyone bother targeting Silverstaff for blackmail?”
“Who was she?” Skater asked, feeling drawn toward the girl’s hollow eyes.
“Her name used to be Arlen Crenshaw.” Archangel said, pulling up official-looking documents. “She was arrested a few times in the red-light district near the docks.”
“Sex-for-sell?” Elvis asked.
Archangel nodded. “Two of the charges stuck and she served some time. Not quite a year in all.”
“But enough to be kept on file.” Skater said.
"Right. And somewhere in there, she got the nuyen together, had the cosmetic alterations done, moved to the Tir during one of the resettlement times under the Ariadne name, then met and married Tavis Silverstaff, star athlete and potential economic powerhouse.”
“Then McKenzie’s blackmailing Silverstaff because of his wife’s past?” Wheeler asked.
“McKenzie may not even know about that part.” Skater said. “He has Larisa’s baby hanging over their heads.” He still couldn’t bring himself to say, his daughter. “McKenzie wouldn’t need anything else.”
“So that’s how McKenzie got an easy in where we’re concerned.” Elvis said, rubbing his capped tusk thoughtfully. He shifted. In response, the troll’s immense weight caused everything to shift.
“As we discovered, McKenzie was already working to make sure the NuGene branch opened in Seattle.” Trey stated. “Business and crime often go hand in hand in this sprawl.”
“It doesn’t really matter.” Skater said. “One led to the other, however it happened.”
“She’s an angle we can use.” Duran stated.
“I know.” Skater said. “But if we expose her, Silverstaff goes down the drekker. Part of the deal we made with Lofwyr was to hand Silverstaff over—intact.” He turned the various scenarios over in his mind. “Attacking McKenzie outright isn’t an option. And we don’t know how, or even, if NuGene is dirty.”
“There’s another problem with taking NuGene down.” Archangel said. “If we do, and manage to smear their name around, the dragon’s stock won’t be worth slot.”
“He’s not going to be a happy camper if that happens.” Elvis said. “Personally, I don’t want to leave Lofwyr holding the bag—or even any part of it.”
Skater nodded, looking at the face on the display. “Agreed. What I do want to do is keep Ariadne Silverstaff out of the line of fire. And the baby as well.”
“In the elven embassy, she’s going to be guarded pretty fragging tight.” Duran growled.
“But she’s not going to be there all day.” Archangel said. “Tomorrow morning, she’s due at KTXX at ten o’clock in the morning for an interview with Perri Twyst.”
Skater glanced at the time. It was four a.m. “That doesn’t give us much time to get ready.” he said. “Archangel, see if you can access some building plans. Duran, let’s ride. I want to eyeball this place in person before we put this thing together.” He was up and moving, feeling the soreness that was clinging to him, but knowing it would wear away as he stayed in motion. There was no way he wanted Larisa’s child caught in the crossfire that he knew for certain was coming.
32
The catnap he’d managed before the morning raid helped Skater make it through the waiting. Otherwise, he’d probably have been a basket case, worse than a BTL junkie coming down hard.
“Okay,” Elvis called out over the commlink, “she’s in the building.”
“I read you.” Skater said. He reached for the van’s ignition, glancing at Duran as he keyed the engine.
The ork gave him a thumbs-up and shifted the Scorpion in his lap. Then he slid the Kevlar-lined mask over his features. With his wild hair and rough build, there was no mistaking that Duran was an ork, but hopefully their targets wouldn’t know which ork he was until after the dust had settled.
Skater backed out into the underground parking garage. Security for the trideo station wasn’t lax, but it wasn’t anything like you’d find at a corp office building or arcology. Trid news dealt in secrets just like every other business in the sprawl, only the focus of the trideo companies was in giving those secrets away for public consumption, not using them for blackmail or to gain a favorable trade balance.
Rows of parked cars were on either side of them, interspersed with thick stone pillars that helped support the building above it. KTXX leased spaces out of an apartment and department store building, five floors up.
“If this doesn’t go down right,” Wheeler warned, “this could turn out to be a real cluster-frag. I’ve got her limo in sight.”
“Stay on them.” Skater said, pulling the wheel hard right and heading down into the lower stories of the parking garage. He was running with parking lights only, and they barely touched the gloom inside the garage. It was nine-thirty-one a.m. KTXX had arranged to meet Ariadne and her party on the third floor down at nine-forty-five.
The lady was arriving early.
Archangel had decked and sleazed her way into the building-security systems and retrieved the layout information before six that morning. Those systems had been easier to get into than the trideo corp’s because the businesses they supported weren’t corp-driven or financial institutions, and the info had been essentially the same.
“There’re two Renault-Fiat Eurovans following the limo.” Elvis said. “Figure a possibility of twelve guns added to the four aboard the limo.”
Skater nodded to himself. It was all a matter of timing. “Everybody stay chill.” he said. “This one’s got to come off by the numbers.”
Duran reached down and checked the seat belt harness, then flipped the safety off the Scorpion. All their weapons were loaded with gel rounds designed to incapacitate rather than harm. Skater wanted zero bloodshed. They hadn’t sorted out who was zooming who on the stock score yet.
Running a hand across the back of his neck, Skater was surprised to feel the sheen of perspiration there. His palm came away wet. He got himself in position, seeing the dark Mitsubishi Nightsky limousine sail sedately down the tunnel leading to the lower levels. The escort vans were barely more than a car length behind.
“Trey.” Skater said, accessing his commlink, aiming the van at the gap in the parking wall that allowed cars on this level to get to the exits more quickly.
“I’m ready.” the mage said over his external link.
Skater glanced at Duran and got a nod of confirmation. The limousine moved past him. “Now!” he yelled, and floored the van’s accelerator. The van shivered as the engine responded. The front-wheel drive screamed against the plascrete floor as they scrambled for purchase.
Then the van was shooting forward, skidding off one of the immense pylons framing the exit ramp, narrowly missing the limo’s tail.
Skater only had to pull the wheel a fraction to neatly cut off the lead van trailing the limousine. Rending metal screeched into mega-velocity, filling the underground garage with unrelenting carnage. The elven van locked its bumper into the side of Skater’s vehicle and started pushing it along. Skater didn’t take his foot off the accelerator until the van slammed into the unmoving wall across the tunnel.
As they’d planned, the impact released the collision airbags, which ballooned to cushion them and keep them from bouncing off the dashboard. His face swaddled in the inflated bag, Skater was blinded for a few seco
nds till he fought his way free. A blade flicked out, only centimeters from his eyes, then sank into the airbag. It deflated with a pronounced hiss.
“Move.” Duran growled, putting away his Cougar knife and kicking open the door on his side of the van.
Skater spared only a short glance at the elves boiling out of the two wrecked vans on the other side of his door like angry wasps. A pair of bullets shattered the window on his side, then punched fist-sized holes through the cracked windshield.
The van had temporarily blocked the tunnel, cutting the sec-teams off from Ariadne Silverstaff. But it wouldn’t keep them from climbing over.
Skater threw himself through the door Duran had just clambered out of. More bullets slammed into the van where he’d been sitting. He fisted the Predator and started running, less than two paces behind Duran’s lead. Up ahead, he could see the brake lights of the limo flare into ruby glares nearly fifty meters away.
The limo driver veered sharply when Trey levitated into view from behind one of the support pylons, looking eerily impressive with the edge of his Kevlar cloak clutched in one hand at his side. In the dim light bouncing crazily through the underground garage, the mage’s eyes seemed to glow from some inner source. As he gestured toward the limo with his free hand, the sleek, shining vehicle suddenly screeched to a stop, followed by an explosion that ripped the hood from the limo in a cloud of angry orange and black flames. The mage remained hovering, a target for the gunners onboard.
Skater pushed himself hard, trying to reach the battle zone before Trey could be overcome. The call would have by now gone out to Lone Star as well as the Tir embassy. Help would already be en route.
The first elf to leap from the Mitsubishi rattled off a series of shots at Trey, the bullets chopping at the mage’s cloak as he gestured again. Abruptly, the gunman stopped firing as an invisible wall of force slammed into him and left him spread-eagled and stunned on the plascrete.
Eivis leaped from the shadows while the door on the limo’s other side was opening. Catching the door in one massive hand, the troll ripped it from its hinges with a mighty screeching yank. As the elf turned to face him, Elvis slapped him with the door, knocking the man unconscious.
Bullets sparked off the troll’s Kevlar jacket from the driver’s side of the limo, but Duran was already reaching through the open window and yanking the man out. The driver was frantically working to bring his weapon around, then slumped an instant later as the butt of Duran’s Scorpion hit his skull.
Skater was right behind Duran, glancing inside the limo.
Ariadne Silverstaff was in the back seat looking around fearfully. In front of her, belted securely in a portable seat, was the baby. She was red-faced, struggling, screaming her lungs out.
Emma. Skater thought her name as he reached for her, his usually quick fingers clumsy with the safety harness. Trey’s ram spell had been exact. No one inside the limo had been hurt by the forced stop.
The baby continued to scream lustily.
Finally, the straps gave way. Skater plucked the baby out of the seat and glanced at Ariadne Silverstaff.
“Please don’t hurt me or my baby.” she pleaded. Bright tears shone in her eyes.
Skater backed away, tucking the baby under the folds of his duster. He had to restrain himself from checking her over. If she’d been injured, though, there would have been blood. There was none.
“Get out.” he told Ariadne.
She looked like she was going to refuse.
Skater showed her the business end of the Predator. “Your choice.” he said in a cold voice. “I’m running on a tight schedule.”
Ariadne crawled out of the limousine, gazing at her sec-guards spread out in heaps around the target area. “What are you going to do?”
“This is no Q and A session going on here.” Duran growled as he clamped containment cuffs on her slender wrists. Unceremoniously, he stooped long enough to gather the woman and throw her over his shoulder. “Those jokers are starting to catch up.”
A glance over his shoulder showed Skater that more elven bodyguards had crossed over the tangled wreckage of the vans and were headed in their direction. He beat feet around the front of the stalled and burning limo as Trey came drifting to land standing.
“That went nicely.” the mage said, wiping his hands together. He looked pale and fatigued, his dark eyes feverish from the strain of spellcasting. “At least, I thought so.”
“You did good.” Skater said. Then he accessed the commlink. “Wheeler, we’re not planning on hiking out of here.”
There was no answer, just the sudden scream of abused rubber from ahead of them. The dwarf brought another transport vehicle to a rocking halt only a few meters in front of them where it would be afforded partial cover by the limo blocking the tunnel.
Archangel threw open the side door and they climbed in as the first bullets slammed into the sides of the vehicle. “I’ll take the baby.” she said.
Skater handed Emma over more reluctantly than he would have thought, given the circumstances. She was all that was left of Larisa and their shattered dreams. He moved forward, sparing a look at Duran, who was seating Ariadne Silverstaff in the back of the vehicle, and took the passenger seat. “Get us out of here.” he told Wheeler.
Wheeler manually shot the car forward. Lights flashed over the windshield, white and hot from the elves’ hand-torches, and neon from the various information prompts showing advertising as well as directions.
Elvis slammed the sliding door shut, closing out some of the noise. The baby was still screaming, but Archangel was tucking her in close.
“Lone Star’s on the way.” Wheeler said as he scanned the garage. “I monitored part of the transmission over their regular channels, but when Silverstaff’s name was mentioned, they went black.”
“Did you get an ETA?” Skater asked.
“Minute, minute and a half.” Wheeler replied. “Don’t usually get trouble this close to Lake Union so late in the morning.”
Skater buckled himself in, watching as the transport vehicle launched itself up an incline leading to a heavy metal door that was sliding shut. “Elvis.”
“Don't worry.” the troll rumbled. “I already took care of the door. It’s on Wheeler’s frequency.”
“I’ve got it.” the dwarf responded. “Everybody hang tough, ’cause I’m blowing it—now!”
Halfway up the thirty-meter incline, with men and women in gray sec uniforms closing in on them from all directions inside the garage, a series of explosions rattled the massive door and ripped it from its moorings. Elvis’s demolition work had been on the money. The clouds of dust and the noise were horrendous, amplified by being trapped in the garage.
Cut free and blown in a designed fall, the door toppled outward into the street only a heartbeat before Wheeler steered the vehicle over it. The ride was bumpy and rough, but over almost as soon as it began.
Out on Mercer Street, Wheeler cut illegally through the intersection of Mercer and Westlake Avenue North, shouldering a delivery wagon aside and zipping between the drivers waiting to proceed with the green light. A flurry of angry honking followed them, but the motorists didn’t waste any time.
Skater watched the intersection fill up as they roared through, knowing whatever pursuit might have made it out of the garage would be effectively cut off for a few seconds more. He let out a tense breath. “Okay, let’s lose this rolling bull’s-eye and shift to some other transportation.”
33
Skater looked up from Archangel’s display as Duran led Ariadne Silverstaff into the living room of the suite serving as their safe house. Before returning here, Archangel had checked her over and found two tracking devices. One that the woman must have activated at the time of the attack, and the other set for an eight-hour delay if she didn’t use a frequency modulator attached to her portacom. Both had been removed.
Standing, Skater waved to a chair in the circle that had formed around Archangel’s work area. “
Please. Have a seat.”
Ariadne kept herself distant. Her arms were folded tightly over her breasts. She appeared hesitant, not wanting to give in so easily. More than two hours had passed since they’d gotten her, and the trideo stations were full of the news. “My husband,” she said in a strong voice that carried a sense of brittleness with it, “I’m sure he will be glad to pay any reasonable ransom.”
“You’re not being held for ransom.” Skater said. “Actually, we may be able to help you. It seems you and your husband have been blackmailed enough lately.”
Color drained from her face slightly, but she didn’t turn away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about that baby in the other room.” Skater returned her gaze full measure.
“My daughter? I don’t understand.”
“She’s not your daughter.” Skater said firmly. “That’s the whole point.” He let that sink in, watching as the woman drew into herself. Anger coiled restlessly inside him when he wondered how much Ariadne Silverstaff knew about Larisa’s death.
He’d held the baby briefly while Archangel had been getting her squared away, purchasing diapers, milk, and other things. Surprisingly, it was Elvis, so huge next to Emma that she could almost lie in one big hand, who seemed to calm and soothe her most.
“I know the whole story . . . about McKenzie setting it all up . . . everything.” Skater said. “But I wonder how much you know, like where the baby came from?”
“McKenzie told us he’d found a suitable surrogate mother. It was a business arrangement. No blackmail was involved.” Ariadne’s words came faster now, and with relief evident in them. “This whole thing, there was so much pressure on us, it was so hard to know what to do, who to trust, where to begin even.”
“There was no surrogate mother.” Skater said. “McKenzie coerced a young woman into having that baby for you and your husband. Once the baby was born. the mother became a liability so he had her killed, presumably to keep her from telling anyone about it.”
