Steel, Titanium and Guilt: Just Hunter Books I to III

by Robin Craig

  Chapter 19 – Spycraft

  A man moved down a darkened street, not quite walking and not quite striding; neither purposefully nor aimlessly. Just an anonymous man on an anonymous mission. Even though it was an hour past midnight there were other people around. There were not many, for if this part of the city never slept nonetheless it rested. While the man varied his timing for his task, this was his favorite time. There were enough people around that one man walking alone was both unremarkable and unlikely to be molested without witnesses, yet few enough that any followers would find it hard to stay hidden.

  While his eyes darted this way and that, he made no visible moves that indicated worry or surveillance. He turned to look at shop displays or to throw a coin at the feet of the occasional insomniac busker, but to all appearances he was just a guy walking along the street with nothing to worry about and nothing to hide. But underneath the nonchalant exterior his nerves were singing with tension.

  He calmly but swiftly entered the alcove, checked, found nothing, then equally calmly left. He did not go back the way he came, instead continuing on toward a nearby bar.

  If he had looked in a certain direction, he would have seen the dimly lit outline of a building a block away, which rose above the shops on the other side of the street. He might have made out a dark window in that building, one of many windows, some dark and some lit. But he had no way to know that behind that window a woman lay on a bed. If he could have seen into her room, he would have been puzzled to see that she was dressed in a dark camouflage outfit even though she was fast asleep. And though her eyes were closed, they already held adaptive contact lenses that would enhance her night vision without affecting her sight in brighter light.

  When he came out of the alcove, an electronic device outside that dark window focused on his face. He had grown a beard and altered his features, but nothing short of surgery would have fooled the software in the device. The woman’s eyes sprang open as an alarm chimed in her ear, and she quickly rose and scanned the recording. Then she quietly let herself out of the room, rapidly descended the stairs and went out onto the street, silently stalking her quarry.

  The man did not know any of this, but he knew one thing the woman didn’t know. While he did not know in what form or even on what night this event would transpire, he was expecting it.

  He had a drink in the bar, ate a quick snack then departed. Again he did not return the way he had come, but followed a route that would lead him back home by a somewhat circuitous but reasonably well-populated path. The woman was good. She followed at a discrete distance and he never knew she was there.

  She stayed in the shadows, watching him go up a short flight of stairs into a rented house. He did not look up and down the street when he opened the gate; did not look around when he opened the door. He was just a regular guy with nothing to hide and nothing to worry about.

  Rentals were cheap here and the man had some means, so renting a house wasn’t difficult for him: and it allowed a flexibility that would have been difficult in shared accommodation. The woman watched as lights went on and off inside the house, wondering what her next move should be. She thought of the nature of her quarry, weighed the risks of surprising him at night when he would be at his most nervous versus the risks of delay. Her camouflage suit was not only hard to see, it was warm, certainly warm enough for a night like this. She set up another spy device that would warn her of any action outside the house, settled down into a soft spot among the trees, and tried to sleep.

  ~~~

  She woke to pale sunlight streaming onto her face and the chittering of a squirrel like some rodent cop warning her it was time to move on. She winked cheekily at the squirrel and stretched uncomfortably in the cool dawn. She peered at the man’s house, which showed no signs of life. It was early, but not ridiculously so; an older couple jogged panting along the street, little clouds of vapor briefly marking their passing.

  The old couple went into a little place down the street that evidently served breakfast. She checked the time, impatience warring briefly with both prudence and hunger. She decided that disturbing the man at this time would be too suspicious and she was better served waiting and having her own breakfast. She moved the spy device to nestle between branches where no casual inspection would find it; it would warn her if there was any activity at the house.

  She rose silently, waved to the squirrel, which now perversely seemed miffed at her departure, and jogged onto the street as if having just emerged from a run through the park. She ate a leisurely breakfast, allowing the sun to creep higher into the sky. She did not like the risk of approaching the man alone, but Jacinta’s suspicions nagged at her. If she called the local cops for backup, what if that led this man’s unknown enemies straight to him? And she was armed, trained and alert; he was a gamer, nervous and probably unfit. She set an automatic alert to go to both her own precinct and the local cops in four hours if she didn’t cancel it. If she had underestimated her opponent she knew that would be too late to save her, but any time long enough to talk to him would be too long for that. But if she did disappear she wanted to leave a trail, whether it was to save her or avenge her.

  She paid her bill and strolled casually along the street, went up his steps and rang the doorbell.

  For long minutes nothing happened. She rang again. He obviously liked sleeping in, for after a short further delay she heard shuffling from inside and a sleepy-sounding voice growl, “Who the hell is it at this hour?”

  “I’m sorry if I woke you,” she said, “But may I come in? It is very important that I speak with you.”

  “Go away. I don’t need God, I’m not buying, I’m not helping, and I’m not opening the door. If you need help there’s a gas station just down the road open all hours. Piss off.”

  “Please, it’s important.”

  There was no reply.

  “Hello?”

  She heard an inarticulate imprecation followed by, “All right, I’m not getting back to sleep now anyway. Come in, but this better be good.”

  The door unlocked. She hesitated, having expected more caution or resistance. The door opened onto a corridor but there was nobody to greet her. She looked around, puzzled, then continued looking around and around as she slowly spun down into unconsciousness.

  ~~~

  She opened her eyes but saw nothing but grey blurs. Slowly the light parts brightened and the dark parts darkened, shapes took form, and at last her eyes focused on a man seated a short distance away, examining her intensely. He held a gun casually in his right hand. Her gun. She started, and found she was tied securely to a chair.

  The man smiled at her, though there was no friendliness in it. He looked to be in his twenties, with the jet black hair and olive complexion of the Middle East. His dark eyes were as intense as his expression.

  “So you found me,” he said. “Good for you. What do you want?”

  “What? What did you do to me?”

  “Just a little knockout gas. Harmless but effective.”

  “Do you knock out all your visitors?”

  “No, just the ones I don’t know who won’t take no for an answer. I like to tilt the odds in my favor.”

  “The odds? Why do you think I was looking for you? What are you afraid of?”

  “You’re a lousy liar.”

  “So I’ve heard. OK, I do know something about it. That’s why I’m here, not to hurt you but to help you. Let me.”

  “Sure. That’s why you turn up here unannounced at this godforsaken time of day. With this,” he added, pointing her gun at her.

  “I did think of calling you, but I was afraid you’d run.”

  He produced a grim smile. “Yeah? Maybe I would have. How did you know where to find me?”

  “Jacinta told me about your dropbox. I waited until you turned up.”

  “I don’t know any Jacinta. What did you do to her, to get that information out of her?”

  “Persuaded her that I was here to he
lp you.”

  He snorted. “Sure.”

  He studied her as if wondering what was safe to reveal, then added, “OK, Jazz did warn me someone like you might come looking. Said to be careful but that you might actually be on the side of the angels. Lucky you: you might already be dead otherwise. So what the hell’s your game?”

  “Look, I’m a detective with the police. I’m investigating the disappearance of Jimmy Dent and some others, which I think are linked. You’re the only decent lead I have. If you care about helping Jimmy, help me. If you’re scared of something, I’m the best chance you’ve got.”

  He snorted again. “Yet here we are, me interrogating you tied to a chair.”

  “I was expecting some scared gamer, not the goddamn CIA. Where did you learn your tricks? Computer games?”

  He produced an evil grin, though one that looked more like it came out of the movies than out of genuine evil. “Have you ever heard of SAVAK?”

  “No, who’s he?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Americans! The rest of the world’s history might as well not exist for you lot! Not ‘who’, ‘what’. It was the Iranian secret police, back in the time of the Shah. My granddad was in SAVAK; fled Iran when the Shah went down. I guess in any other family Grandpa being in the Gestapo would be the big dark secret but noooo, not in mine. In mine it’s more the family hobby.”

  He picked his nails, as if imagining he was inserting bamboo splints under hers. “I suppose paranoia comes naturally when you’ve been everyone else’s nightmare and suddenly you’re in a foreign country, half of whom hate your guts. Anyway, he raised my father to be nearly as paranoid as he is and my dad did the same to me; the dark arts of spycraft are what pass for our family heritage. I ended up thinking they were all crazy.” He grinned. “Until now.” He stopped talking and started moving his phone around as if he was taking pictures of her tied to the chair. “They’re both still alive you know, my dad and granddad. I’ll send them these pictures. I’ve finally done something they’ll be proud of! Next Thanksgiving is going to be fun. Hey!” he added. “Maybe I’ll bring your scalp along as a trophy!”

  Then he turned serious again. He sighted down the barrel of the gun at her head and she tensed. “What’s your name, Lady Cop?”

  “Miriam. Miriam Hunter. And I assume you are Majid. If you aren’t, feel free to let me go.”

  He smiled again and did not confirm or deny it, but he lowered the gun. “So let’s assume we are both who you say. What do you think you can do to help me?”

  “I can get you moved out of here under protection until this is over.”

  “Sure you can. Sorry, Hunter. The things I’ve seen, I don’t know how far the rot has gone. For all I know you’re in on it too. After I’m finished with you, I’m out of here and your friends won’t be able to find me. Jacinta is compromised and obviously there isn’t going to be any good news coming my way, so no tracks this time. The only good news I’m likely to need will be on the news.”

  She decided not to press the issue of what he meant by being finished with her. “I can’t stop you. But look. You might as well assume I’m what I say. If I’m not, I already know what you’ll tell me anyway, right? And if I am, telling me can only help you. So will you untie me?”

  “You must be joking. Did I mention SAVAK? What do you think they did, have little chats over tea and cookies?”

  “Fine. But can you at least answer my questions? You can leave me tied up if you want to. Just answer my questions, please. After that… well, I would like to help you. But if you prefer to run, run. All I want is information – and to be left alive to use it.”

  Majid glared her with his intense eyes for a few more moments. Finally he nodded curtly and leaned back in his chair. “As you say, maybe-Detective, it can’t hurt. Fire away. And if I decide it can hurt, you can’t tell anyone anything if you’re dead, can you?”

  She moistened her lips. “Thank you, I think. I understand you were a friend of Jimmy’s and he told you something that scared you. Or scared you when he disappeared. What was it?”

  For the first time Majid didn’t look in control of the situation and he glanced about nervously. “I don’t know! I mean, he told me he thought he might be onto something big, something dangerous; about to blow the lid of something really bad. But he didn’t tell me what, he said it was too dangerous for me and besides he might be wrong. Then when he disappeared… it really put the wind up me.”

  “There must be more to it than that?”

  He returned his intense gaze to hers and nodded briefly. “He gave me instructions. He said if anything happened to him, what he knew would automatically go to someone in a position to use it – he wouldn’t say who. But he also had it all on two holochips hidden in his room. I was his insurance policy, he said. If he disappeared I was to retrieve them. They were already addressed: one to the FBI and one to his own contact. They were hidden in a place in his room only he and I knew.”

  He stopped, as if fearing to go on. She looked at him and waited.

  “Well, after he disappeared I went into his room – he’d given me a copy of his key. The place was still locked. But all his stuff was gone! And his hiding place was empty. It was like he’d just up and left – but I knew he hadn’t. Whatever happened to him, whoever did it must have…” he swallowed, “made him talk. I don’t want to think of how. And they had enough power to break him fast and enough reach to get in and out of his place faster, without anybody knowing! That was enough for me when there was nothing I could do about it. I figured if they knew enough to do that, they knew about me and I was next. So I got out, fast.”

  She stared at him, frightened herself. It was too much like Big Max. The mysterious disappearance then a cover-up that implied a shadowy power with frightening knowledge and reach.

  “Do you think… Do you think this has anything to do with that company you two did work for, Allied Cybernetics?”

  “Why do you think that?” he asked sharply, as if the mere question were dangerous.

  “Their name keeps cropping up. It doesn’t prove anything, but it worries me. If you have any information or ideas…”

  He fingered her gun, as if worried that if she was working for his enemies this might be just the kind of thing she did not know; could be the Trojan question she was really here for, and despite her assurances his fate might hang on his answers after all.

  “I don’t know,” he replied curtly. “Jimmy never said. And they never caused me any grief. But…” His voice trailed off and his gaze bored into hers again, as if he were weighing the risks, and her soul and life with them.

  “But…?”

  “But that’s where he went, the last time I saw him. It was the 18th of last month. He headed off to do some more work there. And nobody has seen him since.”

  She looked at him sharply. “The 18th? Are you sure?”

  He smiled at her grimly. “It’s not a date I’m likely to forget.”

  She stared him. Oh my God.

  Chapter 20 – A House of Cards

  She opened her eyes but saw nothing but grey blurs. Slowly the light parts brightened and the dark parts darkened, shapes took form, and at last her eyes focused on the empty chair where Majid had sat. The room felt cold and empty, as if it had been deserted for some time.

  She moved her arms and found that this time she was untied, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She stood up, still slightly dizzy, and stretched the kinks out of her muscles. “Majid?” she called, but there was no answer except the echoes.

  She checked her phone and was surprised that she had been here only a few hours, which accounted for her waking up alone rather than to a room full of anxious cops. Whatever Majid used was apparently as fast to let go as it was to take hold, and she was grateful for the absence of side effects. A quick search of the house revealed nothing. She deleted her scheduled SOS, went back to her hotel, checked out and hit the road, setting the car to auto before sitting back to think and catc
h up.

  A few messages were blinking insistently for her attention. One was from Forensic Accounting and her heart sped up a fraction. They had finally answered her question about Allied Cybernetics.

  To: Detective Hunter

  Re: Financial History of Allied Cybernetics

  As you already know, Allied Cybernetics began under another name as a private company with a limited number of shareholders. The current CEO, Aden Sheldrake, started with it when it acquired his own company, then by a series of shrewd decisions whose details are not on record he became the chief shareholder and CEO. He then renamed it Allied Cybernetics to reflect his personal research and product interests.

  AC embarked on an ambitious growth phase based on leveraged buyouts and revaluations. The value of each new acquisition was used as collateral on the loan used to purchase it; then the book value of AC was increased by more than the price paid. This is not necessarily incorrect: badly run companies can often be acquired for relatively low cost compared to their true worth if run well. In addition, each acquisition was chosen for the synergistic value of its intellectual property with AC’s existing technology portfolio, which would also increase its value after purchase.

  However, few companies have used this strategy so successfully so many times, and eyebrows began to be raised in financial circles. The problem was that AC had to service all that debt, and while on the books it was far wealthier than before, most of that was potential, not actual sales. While it was growing, it was able to juggle things. But as is common in technology, products were taking longer to come out the end of the development pipeline than expected. It is one thing to have enough book assets to get a loan. It is quite another to have enough cash flow to keep up the interest payments. Cash began to become constrained. Lenders began to get nervous. The whole thing was a house of cards, and if one lender actually foreclosed and AC was unable to refinance – which is likely if any one did foreclose – the whole thing would have come tumbling down.

  So by then they desperately needed a commercial success, and somehow they pulled one off. The CHIRU military robots proved dazzling in demonstrations, and when the civil war began in the FSAS and a few were used, they proved equally effective in the field. The units bought were enough to stave off the wolves; and even better from AC’s point of view, militaries around the world became very interested and many placed large deposits to reserve future production.