by Cathy Pegau
On the screen, Natalia sat on the couch, while Hirahm accessed the computer on his desk.
“It won’t take more than a quick transaction, Jeff,” she heard herself say on the vid. “I have dummy accounts and walls up to protect both of us.”
“Fifty thousand credits are enough to keep you off my back?” Hirahm sounded appropriately disgusted.
The other Natalia shrugged and smiled. “I’m a woman of simple means.” She rose and handed Hirahm a plastic card. “This is the access code to a secure account. You can’t do anything other than make a deposit. It’s a one-time use, so get it right the first time. If the credits aren’t there in the next twenty-six hours, I bring the CMA down on you full force. If you try to screw me in any way, shape or form, the CMA will be the least of your worries.”
Hirahm glared at her. “You’ll get your money. Now get the fuck away from me.”
She turned on her heel and strode out of the office.
Matthews paused the vid. She leaned back in her chair, her hands steepled against the edge of the desk. “That’s you.”
Feet planted on the floor, Natalia held absolutely still. “It’s an image of me, yes. I was in Hirahm’s office a couple of times and had hours of conversation with him, so it wouldn’t take much to fabricate a vid.”
“Illegal” procedure may have tanked her case against Hirahm, and could still see her lose a pay grade or two, but extorting money to assure a criminal wouldn’t be charged would tank her career and get her indicted.
The very idea made Natalia ill.
Garces shifted in the seat beside hers. “Tech couldn’t confirm it was phony, Hallowell. That’s you. That’s your voice print.”
“Which is possible, albeit not easy, to duplicate, given current technology and skill,” Matthews said.
The knot in Natalia’s gut eased, knowing the director was backing her—for the moment anyway. “I swear, Director, I never had that conversation with Hirahm. There was no solicitation of bribery. There is no account.”
Matthews’s black eyes bore into her, as if she could see the truth written on Natalia’s soul.
Let her look. I’ve done nothing wrong.
The director broke eye contact to focus on her SI console. She tapped a few keys. “Unfortunately, they also handed us this.”
On the screen, a string of search notations and routing paths—and other techno-jargon Natalia barely understood—ended in what appeared to be an account with an off-world bank in her name. There were seventy thousand, three hundred fifty-six credits in the balance box. The latest transaction was a fifty-thousand-credit deposit backtracked to Jeff Hirahm’s expense account.
“That’s easier to set up than the vid,” Natalia said. She’d created enough false accounts herself to lay down convincing cover.
“Except this particular account requires biometric data for any and all access,” Matthews said. “According to the bank, it matches the biometric data we have on file here. Even the deposit had to be approved by you.”
The knot in Natalia’s stomach tightened again. “I was with Hirahm or his people for the better part of three months. Someone could have swabbed some DNA or grabbed my iris pattern.”
“You in the habit of leaving DNA laying around, Hallowell?” Garces asked.
Natalia swung her head toward him so fast, the room swam. “What the fuck does that mean?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized there would be not a gram of support from her supervisor. “Are you asking if I slept with Hirahm or one of his people? No. I didn’t.”
Garces’s lip curled in derision. “You’ve done it before. For the job, right?”
Unfortunately, he was right. She had slept with people she was investigating during undercover work; it was one of the hazards of the job. And while not her favorite aspect of maintaining her cover, more often than not it paid off to the CMA’s advantage. Natalia wasn’t ashamed of a course of action that was practically SOP for many agents, but Garces’s tone implied she did it more out of enjoyment than necessity.
“Enough, both of you.” Matthews’s command brought both Natalia’s and Garces’s attention to her. “We all know the extreme measures an undercover agent often must take in order to legally obtain evidence. But, Agent Hallowell, between Hirahm’s cry of illegal search and seizure, this vid and the account information, I’m afraid the CMA needs to launch an internal investigation before the case can go forward.”
Natalia wanted to throw up. What should have been a simple case of contract fraud had become a full-on Internal Affairs investigation of her. “Director Matthews, I—” Words failed her. She had skirted the line of admissible technique, like every other agent, but never crossed it in all her years at the CMA.
The director frowned, not in anger but in frustration. “Until this matter is resolved,” she said, “I have no choice but to put you on administrative leave.”
* * *
Under the suspicious eye of the junior agent Garces had escort her from her office and, worse, the sympathetic eye of Brodsky, the security station tender, Natalia placed her comm and pulser in the tray. She walked beneath the scanner matrix, still too angry and dazed to speak. When the scanner cleared her, she turned to Brodsky to retrieve her things.
Brodsky’s face turned a deep shade of pink. “I—I’m sorry, Agent, but we have orders to retain your comm and weapon.”
Heat shot through Natalia’s neck and face. “Fine,” she said through clenched jaws.
She walked to the main doors, head up, but felt the gaze of the guards and agent burning into her back. She was suspected of bribery. A dirty agent. A stain on the reputation of the CMA. It wasn’t true and, hell, maybe they actually believed her, but for the time being, Natalia would be considered one of the bad guys. So much for innocence until proven guilty.
Normally, she would have gone down to the garage and driven the seven klicks to her flat, but her vehicle belonged to the CMA. PubTrans it would have to be. The nearest station was a block away, and the walk would do her some good.
Natalia shoved open the main doors and was greeted by snow falling in small, hard pellets that stung her face. Few pedestrians were on the walkway, as most people were working at this hour of the morning.
Not a problem for her for the foreseeable future. The Internal Review process required her to be off-site for two weeks while they, and she, prepared their respective cases. When she got home, she’d call the agent rep in Legal to work out a plan. Hell, at least it was paid administrative leave. After that, she’d be allowed back at her desk in a limited capacity until her hearing. If found guilty, Natalia could appeal, but she knew that would likely be a losing battle.
She’d been a dedicated agent for twelve years. Her record spoke for itself. Not only that, but if she’d decided to take bribes she certainly wouldn’t have met Hirahm in his office and left such traceable evidence. That was shoddy work, as far as she was concerned.
At least Matthews seemed to be behind her. Too bad her own supervisor wasn’t.
Natalia shook her head in an attempt to dislodge the image of Garces’s poorly concealed smirk as she’d left the director’s office. What the hell was going on with him? Why wasn’t her supervisor more upset that one of his own was being set up? While she and Garces had never been buddies, she didn’t think the man hated her.
Until now.
He’s hiding something.
But what? How could she find out if she wasn’t allowed in the building and her access to the CMA database was restricted? There were a few agents she could trust to look into things for her, like Nathan Sterling, but she didn’t want to put them in Garces’s crosshairs.
How could I ever begin to tell Sterling I’ve been accused of such a thing? She hurried down the steps of the PubTrans station and headed to a kiosk. Luckily, she had a few anonymou
s credits on her to buy a flimsy ticket. Her CMA comm would have given her access to her bank account for payment of an electronic ticket. Unfortunately, she’d left her personal comm at home this morning, since she rarely used it while on the job.
Natalia reached into her trouser pocket, pulling out three green five-cred chits and the stubby drive Caine had given her. She stared at the red crystalline device.
She’d neglected to empty her pockets at the security station, and Brodsky hadn’t insisted. Maybe he’d been as thrown as she was by the situation. The other guard hadn’t said anything either. Somehow the stick had passed the body scanner.
It didn’t matter. Part of her wanted to fling the thing into the nearest bin. She had no desire to do anything associated with the CMA right now, even if she could.
She closed her hand around it. The corners of the casing dug into her palm, clearing her thoughts. She’d joined the CMA to help miners have safe and fair working conditions. Reyes Corporation worked with, and supposedly for, pirqinero miners, whose nomadic and unconventional way of life limited their negotiation power with keracite processors.
What if something on the drive pointed toward activities that threatened pirqs?
Her sister and brother-in-law were pirqs. Could they be in danger? That and the memory of her parents wouldn’t allow her to ignore the possibility of someone getting hurt, even if Garces wanted her out of the CMA. Especially if he wanted her out.
Natalia plucked the chits from her palm and shoved the drive back into her pocket. She punched in her destination, deposited her chits and tore the flimsy from the slot. The next train heading to her neighborhood was about to depart. She hurried to the platform. The station wasn’t as crowded as morning or evening commutes, and the car she rode was nearly empty. She threw herself into the nearest hard plastic seat, fingertips tapping against her upper thighs.
Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was a ploy Caine was creating so she could leave Nevarro and escape the authorities here. Maybe the supposed evidence was nothing more than a distraction.
But maybe not.
The train pulled into her stop, and Natalia hurried through the station and up to the street. Her neighborhood was quiet this time of day. Folks at work, kids at school, the rare person out on the walkway, the occasional ground car rumbling past. Nothing out of the ordinary. With the turmoil of the last twenty hours, she wouldn’t have been surprised to find Madam Olga’s Intergalactic Freak Show set up in front of her apartment building.
Natalia took the stairs up to her second-floor flat two at a time. She pressed her palm to the admit panel and went in. Shutting the door behind her with one foot, she shrugged out of her long coat and draped it haphazardly on the rack by the door. Her personal comm was on the small table near the kitchen area. Her personal pulser was locked in a box in the bedroom closet.
She sat in one of the two chairs and tapped the comm to activate it. As it went through its start-up security routine, Natalia withdrew the drive from her pocket. This had better be worthwhile, Caine, because I’m gonna need something to keep myself from killing Garces.
She plugged the drive into her comm and scanned the file labels. “Reyes Financial Report—Off-World,” “Reyes Shipping Schedule” and “Grand Meridian Ore Pickup Schedule.”
Two hours later, after combing through everything on the drive twice, she punched in the digits to Caine’s comm.
* * *
The next flight out of Pandalus’s Hub Station leaving for the South Continent was full, a blessing and a curse for someone trying to blend in while watching for a tail. Passengers milled around the closed access door. No one seemed to be paying Gennie the slightest bit of attention, but a professional wouldn’t be obvious. The Reyeses could afford to hire a professional.
Waiting for her shuttle to board, Gennie flicked on the throwaway comm. She wouldn’t have bothered activating it at all if Natalia hadn’t insisted on having a way to contact her. This particular device was for emergencies, in case she lost her secured comm. There was no way to prevent anyone from picking up this signal, if the person could pinpoint which of the several million signals on the network was hers. Anonymity was an advantage of the cheap comm, but the low-grade electronics and inability to boost its security were drawbacks, to say the least.
When the device came to full power, the message alert immediately blinked red. Damn the void.
Black bag over her shoulder, Gennie separated herself from the other passengers and found a quiet corner. She tapped the message icon. The call had come in an hour before. Normally, the comm would have shown the caller’s digits, but nothing was displayed on the screen. An unidentified number made sense for a CMA agent, whether using an agency comm or her personal one.
“It’s me.” Natalia’s voice sounded tinny over the cheap speaker, not the rich alto that had purred in her ear the night before. “We need to talk.”
Despite the unwelcome message, Gennie smiled. With six little words and no revelation of her identity, Natalia proved she understood the circumstances required discretion. She was definitely the person Gennie wanted for the job.
But did her desire to talk mean she would help, or that she needed more information? Information Gennie couldn’t—or wouldn’t—provide?
Hope melted, leaving a chilled, hollow spot in her chest.
Only one way to find out.
The comm’s callback option worked, though it still didn’t show the caller’s digits. Natalia answered before the first tone died away. “Hey.”
A little curt, but after last night, Gennie couldn’t blame her. “What can I do for you?”
“You’re sure about this?”
“As sure as I can be.” She leaned against the wall, automatically scanning the station crowd, looking for potential trouble. And scoping for a potential escape route, if it became necessary.
On the other end of the comm, Natalia tapped on something—her comm or a table, Gennie couldn’t say. “It’s a thin connection. A very thin connection. I can see why no one would have given this a second thought. I’m not even sure I should.”
Gennie’s heart twinged, but Natalia’s words filtered through the disappointment. “Wait. Not sure you should. Does that mean you will?”
She let out a sigh before answering. “I think there may be something going on, but a lot of holes need filling.”
“That’s why I wanted you to look into it. I knew you’d be able to connect what looks like random facts.” Relief that the Reyeses were going to be investigated made Gennie almost giddy. It had been a long few months.
“Hold on,” Natalia said. “These are just bits and pieces. Nothing you gave me merits an official query. It needs to be investigated further. I want us to go to the site.”
Gennie’s good mood evaporated in a heartbeat. “Us? No, I’ve done all I can.” All she could risk doing. “That’s what last night was about. It’s up to you now.”
“Last night—” Natalia cleared her throat. “Last night proved how serious you are about what’s going on. I get that. But there’s too much for me to do alone. I need you there to help.”
Shit. Gennie raked her hand through her hair. “I can’t risk them catching me anywhere near their operation. That’s why I gave you the drive.”
“They aren’t involved in day-to-day activities at sites. You’ll be safe,” Natalia said, skillfully dancing around facts on an unsecured comm. “I can’t bring this to my people as is, without more evidence to convince my boss it’s worthwhile. This isn’t an official investigation, which means no backup. And having help will get it done faster.”
Silence hummed between them. Gennie’s stomach cramped. She needed Natalia to get the CMA on the Reyeses, but what if they discovered her there? Worse, how could she avoid going to Grand Meridian without explaining everything to Natalia? Asking the CMA agent to ge
t the Reyeses off her ass was one thing. Trusting her with knowledge of her kids was another.
“I’m willing to do this,” Natalia continued, “but I need you there. I’ll set up our story and IDs. Meet me at the Grand Meridian station in two days.”
Two days? She’d promised Branson and Melaine she’d be home today. They were used to her turning around and leaving again, but not that quickly.
“I need more time than that,” Gennie said. “I’ll be there in four. I have my own arrangements to make.” The tense silence on the other end of the connection spoke loudly of Natalia’s distrust. “I promise.”
“Fine.” Even the crappy electronics that made her voice thin and distorted couldn’t mask her frustration. Too bad, Agent Hallowell. “But if you’re not there, I’ll take the next train back to Pandalus, and that’s it. You deal with the Reyeses on your own.”
Would she do that? Would she pass up the opportunity to investigate the Reyeses for violations, or was Natalia Hallowell bluffing? This was too important to risk, for both of them.
Gennie closed her eyes and sagged against the wall. “I’ll be there.”
“Good,” Natalia said. “Here’s what we’ll do.”
Twenty minutes later, with a sense of how she and Natalia would search for more evidence against the Reyes Corporation, Gennie hit the disconnect on her comm. Natalia would create identities for them so they could infiltrate the Grand Meridian site as pirqs. As the agent described her idea, Gennie’s mouth had dried to the point that she could do little more than grunt in agreement.
Natalia intended for them to go into the mine. Gennie should have said something but couldn’t speak. So the plan was set. She’d have to tell Natalia at some point that there was no way she’d go underground.
The gate attendant called her shuttle for boarding. Thankfully, the announcement interrupted Gennie imagining how Natalia would react and, worse, what would happen if she had to go into the mine itself. She’d worry about confronting Natalia with her fears later. Right now, Gennie had to figure out a way to explain to her children that Mommy would have to leave again.
