Pray for Rain Part 2
Page 3
He got into the van and headed for the Dsetreen Quarter.
“You wanna talk to the cops?” Kaskey asked.
“No. Either they won’t know who Gothra is or they’ll be in her pocket.”
Kaskey nodded.
“She’s got to have some protection.”
“Right,” Grant said, “but I don’t think it’ll be police. It’s hard to get a whole force on your side. Easier with a gang.”
“According to the data Quillett’s is the only real gang in the city.”
“But Gothra’s Universal, much bigger than people like Quillett.”
“Are you telling me there’s a secret gang here?” Kaskey asked.
“Maybe. We should keep our wits about us.”
Kaskey pulled up in the Dsetreen Quarter and found a place to park.
“Great.”
“What?”
“It’s slop.”
“Slop?” Grant asked.
“Mostly diners and not high end. Hard graft for little payout.”
“What does that mean? To you as a hustler?”
“Two things. Either they’re gunning for you or they’re just messing with you. Sometimes they want to deter hustlers, but you went through official channels so they gotta give you something.”
“They gunning for you?” Grant asked seriously.
“Can’t see why they would be.”
“I’m remembering the whole Wotham shebang.”
“I’ve grown and learnt,” Kaskey said solemnly and Grant smiled to himself.
“I’m going to come with you.”
“No, man.”
“It could be dangerous.”
“It’ll be OK.”
“What?” Grant asked a little crossly. “It’s me, isn’t it?”
“Nah, come on, man.”
“So I’ll come.”
“It’s just…” Kaskey trailed.
“Spit it out, Kas.”
“Ahh, man. You’ll cramp my style.”
Grant sat back and stared at the map on the computer screen.
“Right.”
“It’s nothing personal,” Kaskey said turning in his seat. “Just the way I work.”
“You think I’m old.”
“You are old.”
“Young enough to kick your arse.”
Kaskey laughed and turned back to face forwards.
“If you say so.”
“I know you’re smiling.”
“I’m not.”
“I can see you in the mirror.”
Kaskey stopped smiling and moved the mirror.
“I’m next to useless staying behind this computer.”
“If there’s other protection out there, they might have flagged us at the Port.”
“Right and I’m not going to spot them in here. If this is a set up they’ll be onto you as soon as you ask questions.”
“So I‘ll be subtle.”
“You might not know who’s watching.”
“Alright, so stay close, man. Stay close.”
Kaskey got out of the van and walked to a bar. The whole of this street was bars of different kinds and the street was busy with people turning up for dinner and drinks. It was that nice part of the evening before people were drunk. Maybe just a little buzzed and having fun. Nice, middle class people would leave the area before that buzzing became slobbering drunkenness. He chose a bar and entered.
Grant got out a few minutes later and wandered down the street. This wasn’t where he wanted to be, this wasn’t where he thought he could get the information they would need. And that was why he had hired Kaskey. He could get information in places like this, but as he had said, that might attract attention and so Grant couldn’t leave.
From his past life it was impossible not to spot all the criminals on the streets. Most looked small time, the odd pickpocket and thief; pimps and girls, but then there were the guys and gals that were obviously gang members. They had that look that said ‘we’re in a gang and we’re the bestest and toughest around’. If this was an area that they allowed others to work in then they were either there to keep an eye on them or looking to recruit anyone half decent. He’d heard of such things before, but this was all too low-level for InterG and he’d never dealt with them.
He went into one of the nicer looking establishments and sat at the bar. It was mainly couples eating, but also small groups of friends drinking and laughing quietly, the odd family. It was respectable, but in a Quarter where new people weren’t uncommon. The kind of place an assassin or hitman might start out and therefore the type of place security might be watching.
It was another thirty minutes later when a woman walked into the bar who looked a little out of place. Grant doubted anyone in the restaurant would notice it. If they could pick out the gang members perhaps they would lump her in with them, but she wasn’t. Grant could read her stance, her walk; the set of her expression. She walked up to the bar and ordered a Vant’s Soda (it’s got the pop so you won’t stop!). Grant immediately shifted his position as she took up the same stance. The casually-sitting-but-actually-positioned-to-take-in-the-room position. She would have recognised it in Grant if he hadn’t moved.
You had to wonder what she did for the rest of her time. People coming looking for Gothra couldn’t be that regular and she wasn’t running the crime in the city. Maybe this woman was a local butcher or something, who had to drop her work to check stuff out. Like a volunteer fireman. Most likely, like the Archaeologists, Gothra’s staff were also trained in protection. Though Rain would disagree, he didn’t like to kill someone that had just signed up as an accountant and had to do some henchmanning on the side. He frowned and then wiped it away. That would attract her attention.
“I think my style could use some cramping,” Kaskey said over the radio. “Affrick’s.”
Grant casually finished his drink and got up to leave. He knew she’d be watching him, it couldn’t be coincidence that she’d rocked up now.
“Get to the van,” Grant said once he was back on the street.
“Don’t think that’s gonna happen.”
Grant crossed the road in a stride, trying to look calm and trying not to look behind him. If Kas had trouble with Quillitt’s then that didn’t mean anything more, but he didn’t want to risk getting on the radar.
He reached Affrick’s and walked inside to find Kaskey making smiley faces and flapping his hands at three men. Grant thought of the woman and changed his stance and pace up. He pushed one of the men out of the way.
“This better be worth it,” he said crossly.
“Who are you?” a Human asked.
“Who am I? Who are you? What’s the deal? I tell you if this is shabbus I’ll be pissed.”
“Asking a lot of questions,” a Tarancort said.
“So?” Grant asked testily.
“So he’s supposed to be here hustling. The Boss liked him, thought he might have talent so we was watching him.”
“How absolutely fascinating, are you planning to waste my whole evening?”
“What more do you want? He’s not here to score, he’s nosing around your lot.”
“Alright, alright, valkswagon, Just bring him to my van.”
“This is shabbus,” Kaskey declared. “I ain’t done nothing, man.”
“If he’s going to cause a scene, shut him down,” Grant ordered.
Suffice to say Kaskey shut up and let himself be led out to the van.
Grant grabbed Kaskey by the arm.
“You gonna be a problem?” he threatened.
“Nah, man, I’m just here to have a little fun.”
“Well, you be good and maybe you’ll get your wish.”
“I don’t want any trouble, man,” Kaskey whined.
Grant opened the passenger door.
“You want help?” the Human asked.
Grant looked him up and down.
“I think I’ll cope.”
He shoved Kaskey in and ran around to t
he driver’s side, got in and hit the gas just as the woman came running down the street screaming at the gangers to stop them.
***
“What happened?” Grant asked as they sped through the city.
“Turns out I still have more learning and growing.”
“So?”
“So I tried asking around. Nice and easy, like, but I guess I was too eager. Too many questions not enough hustling.”
“You’ve learnt and grown enough to understand your mistakes.”
“You’re not mad?”
“This is a strictly learn on the job deal, Kas.”
“I can’t imagine you as a fumbling new recruit,” Kaskey smiled.
“According to you it’s lost in the mists of time.”
“I’d ask you about it, but you don’t talk about the past do you?”
“I try to look forward, Kas. I fought a war and patrolled the Universe to make a better tomorrow. I try to keep my eyes on that rather than looking back.”
CHAPTER 28
“Well that was fast,” Grant said.
They were sitting in the van just down the road from the space port’s main entrance.
“What was?”
“We’ve got to get your eye in, Kas. Same as sizing up marks.”
Kaskey nodded in understanding.
“Let me try.”
“Alright.”
What was he looking for? He now, unfortunately, knew what the gang members looked like. The three thugs he had encountered all dressed similarly. He guessed that it was a badge of honour, but he couldn’t see anyone dressed like that. As a hustler he knew that you didn’t commit crime successfully by being obvious so he reckoned anyone more than a thug wouldn’t be obvious by their dress.
It would be in their manner.
If they were out to stop them entering then they would be walking and looking with purpose, but he couldn’t see anyone like that.
As a hustler you took the average of a room. Clocked everyone and from there worked out the strongest and weakest, those above and below the average. He did that now, clocking the people walking in and out of the port.
“The woman in the yellow trench coat,” he said.
“Very good,” Grant replied. “Gothra’s security. People like them can’t help but exude a feeling of danger in the same way people clock me as police.”
“They also ain’t going anywhere,” Kaskey noted.
“Right, but with intent.”
“They’re chilling with intent?” Kaskey asked.
“Look at all the others, just milling around waiting for people or for the next shuttle to leave. The woman in the yellow coat isn’t milling. Neither is that Merrick man in the blue shirt.”
“You see people milling I see stories,” Kaskey said.
“And that’s why I hired you. I miss all that, the level I’ve always worked at? You let the crowd fade and focus on those that are different. Something more.”
“You know that’s sad, right?”
Grant stared out the window for a couple of beats.
“Yup. Though at least I haven’t spent the last few minutes clocking who’s best to scam.”
Kaskey looked over at him and Grant smiled out the window.
“OK, man. Touché.”
“We need a diversion,” Grant changed the topic.
“You know who I have clocked?” Kaskey asked.
“Let’s move on, shall we?”
“This guy sneaking up to your window,” Kaskey said with a little satisfaction.
“Shabbus,” Grant swore and sparked the engine to life.
The man started to run as Grant smashed the gas and yanked the wheel into a U turn. He knocked the guy flying, but those at the space port saw it and were shouting into radios.
“Shabbus, shabbus, shabbus,” Grant swore, angry with himself.
“I’m sorry, man.”
“Shut up.”
He skidded around a corner and accelerated along a long wide road.
“Now how the shabbus are we going to get off world?” Grant asked.
“Well what do you normally do?”
“We don’t normally do this.”
“Right, right, you just find stuff.”
“I don’t say it for fun,” Grant snapped. “Oh, well, great.”
Two cars were screaming up behind them.
“There should be some guns in the back,” Grant said.
Kaskey fell into the back as Grant swerved around cars and Kaskey briefly wondered if Grant had done it deliberately.
“Where?” he shouted.
“Under the seat, hit it.”
Kaskey hit under the chair and a secret compartment popped open. He grabbed the two pistols that were in there and scrambled back into the front.
The two cars were catching up with them.
“Shoot the tires or the driver,” Grant commanded.
“I’m not much of a murderer,” Kaskey shot back.
“They are,” Grant pointed out. “Just shoot the tires.”
“Tires? I don’t shoot guns, I’ll be lucky to hit the car.”
“Remind me why I hired you again?”
“To offset your crotchety old man personality?”
Grant took a quick look over at him.
“Alright. Yeah. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise, just work your magic, man.”
“We’re going to have to lay low and get support in,” Grant said.
The first car had caught up and Grant twisted the wheel to bash it. It skidded away and Grant accelerated again. The other car came up the other side and tried shooting at them, but Grant managed to slalom around another car and a truck. The first car began to catch up again. Grant dodged out from in front of the truck and slammed one of the cars and then yanked the wheel to hit the other car. It braked to avoid the collision and the van pulled away again.
Grant was considering turning off the road, though he didn’t know the city, so didn’t know whether he’d be turning into somewhere better or worse. Just as he thought valkswagon to it (good job Gulch wasn’t here) another van came speeding up behind the cars and slammed one into the buildings on the left as someone shot the driver of the other. It accelerated ahead of the van and Grant involuntarily slowed as he watched it. It pulled ahead of them and flashed both its indicators before signalling left.
Grant looked at Kaskey who just shrugged and Grant followed the car around a corner. They slowed their pace and took enough turns for Grant to be well and truly lost before pulling into a yard and then slowing as a garage door opened and they drove inside.
“Give me one of those guns,” Grant said.
“Take both, man.”
“Just be ready,” Grant said as he opened the door and slid out, sliding the guns into his waistband as he did so.
The garage contained three men and two women, but only one of them was armed, with a machinegun. Two men stepped out of the van and walked over to Grant and Kaskey, who was now standing next to Grant.
“Detective Grant,” the Human man said.
“You’ve got me confused with someone else.”
“Then I’ve risked all our lives to bring you here.”
“Alright, I used to be a detective, not anymore.”
“We just find stuff,” Kaskey said.
“My subordinate colleague here is right.”
“Well that is beneficial to us,” the man said. “I am Drey.”
“Good for you.”
“Your appearance certainly is,” Drey nodded.
“People enjoy your cryptic nature?” Grant asked.
“So how do you know him?” Kaskey asked.
“Would you prefer to retire to somewhere more comfortable?” Drey asked.
“Cryptic comfortable or actual comfortable?” Grant asked.
“Sofas,” Drey replied.
“Lead on,” Kaskey grinned.
They walked through a door at the back of the garage and through to a more co
mfortable room.
“So?” Grant asked as soon as they were comfortable.
“You’ve done some work for us,” Drey said. “Not that you knew.”
“Back to the cryptic clues,” Kaskey told Grant.
“Should I just shoot him?” Grant asked him.
“Nah, man, give him the chance to give a straight answer first.”
“We are the Cadre of Camilleron,” Drey said. “We thought the alliteration sounded better.”
Grant pulled his gun.
“Whoa there,” Kaskey held a hand up, “I’ve heard of them.”
“Not cryptic?”
“Not cryptic.”
“Camilleron is the mining planet, isn’t it?” Grant asked.
“It is, it is,” Drey said gamely. “It was taken from us.”
“The planet?” Kaskey asked with surprise.
“No, the rights to mine,” Drey told him.
“Oh. Right. I’d always heard you were terrorists, but that makes sense.”
“Gothra,” Grant said and Drey nodded.
“We have finally traced it back to her.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Not long, six to eight months. Just long enough to get set up.”
“Can we go back to how you know Grant here?” Kaskey asked.
“This has been a long fight for us, there were times that other’s work has helped us. We were, for example, the anonymous lead on the Falijj case.”
Grant stared at him for a moment before nodding.
“And that helped you out,” he said.
It was Drey’s turn to nod.
“It helped rid us of Ponifex which drew us closer to another lead.”
“We said we find stuff and you said that was beneficial. Why?”
“May I ask what you are doing here in Pelluu? Having saved your lives…”
“We’re also looking to take Gothra down,” Kaskey said.
“Let’s be a little less eager with our information, huh?” Grant told him.
“Right. Sorry. They seem nice, is all.”
“Perhaps we could help each other?” Drey suggested.
“Again, you said about us finding stuff?” Grant said.
“There has been something of a takeover, I’m sure you know. We don’t know who, but we have had word that one of Gothra’s lieutenants is going to defect.”
“Defect?” Kaskey asked.
“Yes. To a rival gang. Our information says the Shen Mi, but we can’t be sure. Do they even exist?”