by M. D. Cooper
“Yeah, I can see it plain as day. They have it recessed a bit too much, though. It won’t see us if we hug the wall.”
Reece nodded and pressed herself against the wall. “OK, going down. Keep your eyes peeled for more.”
“You sure about down? I feel like my argument wasn’t convincing.”
“It wasn’t. But if we clear the bottom floor, maybe we can use it as a fallback position as we stake out the higher floors.”
“See, that’s logic. Definitely better than my basement laboratory idea.” He nodded as they walked down the stairs together.
“Now it’s a laboratory and evil scientist thing?”
“Well, our guy’s a scientist, so it would follow that he might have come here for some notorious chemistry lab stuff, right?”
She rolled her eyes. “You need to think more real world, and less monster story.”
“You’re smiling though,” he noted.
“Am not,” she lied.
Their banter came to an abrupt halt at a pair of heavy double doors.
“Definitely looks like a place an evil laboratory would be,” Trey whispered.
She reached for the door, expecting it to be locked. Instead, it swung open easily. She took a deep breath, surprised by what she smelled. Or, more to the point, what she didn’t.
“This space is being used,” she said. “The air is fresh, no weird smells.”
The floor and walls were scuffed and showed the lack of maintenance typical for an underground floor used for storage.
And yet, she found fresh air and no dust.
She put her finger to her lips, then pointed gestured at the corner of her eye to tell him to send her a silent message in place of speaking.
Stepping carefully to avoid making noise, she eased in and found herself in a room with shelves, bins, and boxes. It looked exactly the way she’d expect the basement in a place like this to look.
Moving further in, she looked to Trey and angled her head to indicate that he go first. As they crossed a narrow, empty room into a larger space, she watched the distance between their location and that of Fitzmiller’s tracker decrease.
They were getting close.
Then they hit the back end of the basement floor.
“There’s no one else down here,” Trey said. “He must be on a higher floor.”
“He can’t be. This is the exterior wall. On the other side is dirt and grass.”
Trey peered at the room’s support columns, judging the building’s size. “You sure?”
“I’m looking at an aerial view of this structure, superimposed over my current location. There’s no more building past this point.”
“Could he be in the next place over?”
She shook her head. “No. The tracker pinged back from thirty meters away. It’s still on this lot.”
“Okay…” Trey blinked slowly as he thought. “So, what? There’s a secret bunker, and a tunnel to it that we’re missing?”
“If there’s a tunnel here, it’s a magical one.”
She saw the moment when he arrived at the conclusion she’d come to.
Trey’s gaze locked on to hers. “Either he’s removed the tracker somehow, or he’s dead.”
“And it’s out there in the dirt somewhere, or sewer or a drainpipe. Yeah.”
They stared at each other for a long moment.
“Shit,” Trey swore. “That means he’s onto us. Let’s get the hell out of here.” Trey didn’t wait for her to answer, backtracking the way they’d come.
As she hustled to keep up with him, Reece tried to come up with an alternate plan of action. She’d been sure they’d find Fitzmiller here.
Without the tracker, she didn’t know how they’d find him, or even if he was alive to find.
BUZZFLY’S NEST
DATE: 04.04.8948 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Istanba, Wadish
REGION: Eashira System, PED 4B, Orion Freedom Alliance
“You need to eat something.” Trey pushed the sandwich at Reece. He’d already finished his food as they sat at the al fresco diner.
The food smelled fantastic, but she had no appetite. He was right, though. Mechanically, she peeled back the wrapper and took a bite.
The combination of meat and onions and some kind of thick gravy was ridiculously delicious. She sighed. She didn’t deserve ridiculously delicious food. She was failing at her job.
“At least, if he’s alive, he hasn’t had time to get far,” Trey said. “He only arrived at that location while we were up at Kara Station.”
“And the longer we wait, the further he’ll be. Or, maybe he’s dead. In which case we have nothing to go forward with at all.” Her hands clenched with frustration, then stopped because she was squishing the delicious sandwich she didn’t deserve.
She took another bite.
“So, let’s assume he’s dead. What would be the next step?” he asked.
“We could investigate that building, see if we can track any link between them, Fitzmiller, his travel, or Rexcare. We’d have to go in at night, though.”
“That sounds long and slow,” he said.
“Yeah. Alternatively, if he’s alive, we can stay on his trail. It’s not impossible to find someone without a tracker. Just a whole lot harder.”
“Let’s do that one. If it turns out he’s dead, there will be no trail to find, and we can settle in for the long, slow investigation.”
She’d come to the same conclusion. “The problem is picking up his trail again. I’m going to assume that he was actually at that building, because if he wasn’t, he could be literally anywhere by now.”
“That would mean he has what, a day’s head start on us? Maybe two days?”
“Something like that. Two days only if they planted the tracker there for misdirection.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “But let’s say he was in that building. Somewhere, on some upper floor, they have tech that’s sufficiently advanced to find something that isn’t meant to be found. Plus someone with the skills to remove the tracker. Whoever that is, they know where Fitzmiller is. So maybe we don’t have to track him. Maybe we just need to nail down his keeper.”
She took another bite of the sandwich, with more gusto this time. She was liking this train of thought. This was something she could do.
“I’m guessing this isn’t another covert infiltration.” He picked something out from under his fingernail.
“No, I’m thinking something much bigger, noisier, and more likely to get us in some major trouble.”
He squinted at her. “So why do you look so much happier all of a sudden?”
She grinned. “Let’s just say I like playing to my strengths.”
* * * * *
They managed to get a room in a cheap hotel just two blocks from the building in question. It was the type used by traveling sales people and middle management-types who weren’t given much of a stipend for their lodgings.
Reece really didn’t care what it looked like, though the smell could use some improvement. So long as she had a clear line of sight from her window to the building in question, she was more than happy.
“Where does someone go around here to buy some serious firepower?” Reece sat at the window, watching the distant building’s front door through a hand-held scope. She’d set up a camera to record it as well, but she kept hoping that her visit might shake something up and cause some activity.
So far, it seemed like she had simply passed as a cake delivery woman.
“Are you sure that’s necessary?” Trey asked. “I mean, I’m not against surveillance, but you charmed your way right in, let me into the building, and we wandered around without any repercussions.”
“If they have that kind of technology going on upstairs, they absolutely have it heavily protected. We got into the parts of the building that didn’t have anything, and no one came for us. Maybe that part of the building is even a false front for something else. How do we find out something
like that around here? Who has access to that kind of information?”
“One might lead to the other,” he said.
She turned away from the window. “What do you mean?”
“They have personal security stores here, too, like back on Usra. But here, they’re a little more upscale, and the owners are more connected. Money can buy most things you need to know.”
“That’s perfect, then. Because I have a lot I need to know, and don’t mind spending Rexcare’s money to find out.”
“Okay. Let me connect with a friend and see who’s in favor right now.”
“In favor?” she asked.
“Personal politics change fast here. It’s clan and connection based. Whoever is in at the moment, will have the most access.”
“All right. You do that. I’m going to get out of this delivery outfit.” She pulled at the collar of her white shirt.
The tiny bathroom had only two threadbare towels, but the shower was clean and the towels smelled better than the rest of the place. Water pressure was poor, making the shower more effort than it was probably worth, but it was a way to kill time while she waited on Trey.
She hoped that by the time she was dressed as herself again, he would have figured out who they needed to see.
* * * * *
Rather than a warehouse like on Ursa, the personal security store on Wadish more closely resembled some sort of posh country club. Not that there were a lot of people around, but the experience was clearly designed to cater to expensive tastes and a desire to impress the people who have them.
Reece felt underdressed. On Akon, her black pants and tank, and her long red and black jacket made the perfect statement about who she was and how she lived her life. Here, it appeared her style made her rough around the edges and possibly a little down on her luck.
At least she had her guns and her pulse pistol. Without them, she felt downright uncivilized.
So she sat in a delightfully comfortable, upholstered chair, sipping some kind of fancy tea—that was delicious but undoubtedly too good for someone like her—discussing the finer points of heavy-artillery guns.
Simply put, it was bliss.
“I once had a Dietz 416 rapid repeat subsonic shotgun,” she confided.
“You’re kidding.” The arms dealer who served fancy tea and preferred to simply be called ‘Seven’ gazed at her in admiration. “What was it like?”
“Damn heavy to carry, and that was before you even added in the shells. I ended up selling it for the down payment on my house.”
Seven let out a low whistle. Reece glanced at Trey, but he remained sadly ignorant of the finer points of rare weapon collecting.
She really shouldn’t have felt disappointed in him, but she did. Just a little.
Seven said wistfully, “There aren’t many of those around anymore. You ever see one of those again, be sure to let me know, ya?”
“I’ll do my best,” she promised.
“More tea?” He lifted the teapot.
“Please.” She wasn’t about to pass up such a tasty beverage, especially one that she was unlikely to ever have again.
As she sipped, she looked at Trey from under her eyelashes. He sat alongside her, toying with the handle of his cup. Thus far, he’d said little. He wasn’t being quiet enough to be considered antisocial, but he was definitely taking a backseat for the moment.
She was fine with that.
“You’ve got a great setup here,” she told Seven. “It’s a shame we don’t have anything like this in Machete.”
“You could always move.” He grinned at her.
“I could, but my situation there is pretty good, and I don’t have any clan here. It’d be hard for me to get established.”
He nodded. “True. A shame. You’d fit in well.”
It was funny how quickly people could bond over a similar interest.
“Trey said you might be able to help me find someone who can track down information?” she asked.
Seven nodded. “Probably. Depends on what you need to know.”
“I’m looking for connections to a particular building. Who owns it, who operates out of it, who they have ties with. I tried searching public records, of course, and didn’t come up with anything.”
“You considering at a corporate purchase?” Seven asked, looking interested.
It was a convenient cover story, and fit with her background. “Something like that. Maybe. Right now, I’m just looking for details.”
Seven gave a noncommittal shrug. “Give me what you have and I might be able to track it down, or contact someone who can.”
She smiled at him. “What’s that going to cost me?”
He pretended to look hurt. “After all you’ve spent on guns and surveillance tech? Not much. Although, if you upped your order, we could just call the information part a gift with purchase.”
“Oh no,” she said with a lighthearted tone that belied her words. “Having to buy more protection supplies? What a shame.”
They grinned at each other.
“You did admire those pulse grenades for a good few minutes,” he noted.
“Those could come in handy, too,” she admitted. “Fine. Add a gross of them to my bill.
His eyebrows lifted. “A gross? I expected maybe a dozen or two.”
She shrugged. “I’m not likely to get back this way anytime soon, so it makes sense to stock up. Besides, I want to make sure you’re truly motivated to come up with every shred of info you have on that building and the people who use it.”
“Oh, I’m motivated.” He slanted her a lascivious look, but it wasn’t about anything he felt about her. It was all about business.
She liked Seven. They had so much in common.
As much as she liked talking to him about the finer points of weapon maintenance and collecting, once they had the details of their deal worked out, she wrapped things up so he could get to work.
Time was a commodity worth more than money and more than weapons, at the moment.
“I don’t get it,” Trey complained as they put some of their purchases into the rental car. Later that day, they’d get a delivery of some of the other items, and the rest would be delivered to the Upper Wadish, the station atop the planet’s space elevator, to coordinate later with whatever flight took them out of here.
Trey continued, “What’s so fascinating about this model or that of the same gun, when they both function just as well? I like weapons and tech just fine if they’re doing what they’re supposed to, but why obsess about them?”
She sighed, closing the door of their rental car and folding her hands in her lap. “It’s about interest in the details. It’s the difference between enjoying a tasty meal and wanting to know everything that went into making the meal, so you know why it’s tasty. Isn’t there anything that you have a passion for?”
He turned the wheel, angling them back toward their crappy hotel. “I guess not. Not like that, anyway.”
Reece hoped that wasn’t really true. If it was, she felt bad for Trey.
“You should find something,” she advised. “It’s the passion we feel for things that excite us that make life worthwhile.”
He glanced at her briefly, then returned his attention to the road. “Is it? I thought survival was the goal.”
“Surviving isn’t living, Trey. It’s just continuing to not die. You’ve seen plenty of bad, right? We’ve never talked about it really, but that’s the feeling I get from you.”
“Yeah. I’ve seen bad.” His tone remained even, but nonetheless she felt like there was a volcano underneath the bland words.
“The galaxy is an ugly place,” she continued. “Bad things. Bad people. And all of us get swept up in the mess that others make. Some people just dive into the mess they’re born into and help make it bigger. Bottom line, we never know when our time will be up, or when our last chance at enjoying something will be. So you have to grab onto whatever makes you happy, and enjoy the hell of it
while you can.”
“Because that might be all you get out of life?” His mouth turned down at the corners.
“Yeah. It might be. You and I weren’t born to be the privileged elite. No one I grew up with will ever be an exec at a corporation. And if I’d been born on this planet, I bet I wouldn’t have been part of a powerful clan, either. My theory is that most people are like us, living with less, always wanting more. But that’s not bad. It means we can appreciate things more than the people who take them for granted.”
“That’s your theory, huh?”
“It is. So don’t make fun of it, or I’ll have to kick your ass.” She didn’t mean it, really, but she didn’t want him ridiculing her. She really meant what she’d said, and she rarely shared her personal philosophy with anyone.
“Oh, no. Well, we can’t have that.” His lips curved into a small smile.
He wasn’t making fun of her, though. He was just lightening the mood, as he tended to do.
“Nope,” she agreed. “You don’t want any part of that.”
“I’ll have to give it some thought, then. How does one go about finding one’s grand passion?” He looked to the left, scanning traffic before turning.
“I don’t know. I got into guns when I started working as a fixer. It was just kind of natural. I guess if a person’s actively searching for what they love, they’d have to just try out a whole bunch of stuff. Probably a lot of crappy stuff. Eventually, maybe you could find something you love.”
“I see. Waste my time with stuff I don’t like, maybe eventually find something I like. I’ll have to think about it.”
An awkward silence fell between them. Reece felt a little foolish about offering him life advice. Who was she to do that? He’d seen more of the universe than she had, objectively speaking.
Before long they arrived back at the hotel. After looking out at the building in question and reviewing her recordings the camera had captured, she changed clothes and excused herself for a workout at the hotel’s little gym.
Well, it was less of a gym and more of a smelly room with a treadmill and some free weights, but it would have to do. At least she’d have a chance to burn some excess energy while waiting to hear back from Seven.
