I wasn't holding out any hope. And the further I slipped into Hillsborough itself, the more I couldn't fathom why a Cardinal would work closely with a tech whiz Citizen from here. A small part of me wondered if it was a cover. The Cardinals using this location to hide their involvement. If they were, it was something new for them. Something sinisterly covert.
And it wasn't as though they didn't harbour enough of a dark reputation as it is.
I checked my bearings, found the building the telephone number was attached to and stood in the shadows, out of the pouring rain, and watched. Lights were on in apartments. Vid-screens flickering in dim interiors. Music could be heard through open windows. Not everyone used their air-con units, some liked to feel the heat.
Getting in wouldn't be the problem. Avoiding the security cameras should be easy enough. Finding the exact apartment simple. But still I hesitated before taking a further step. I lifted my gaze to the roofline, thirty floors above. There was nothing to indicate this apartment complex was different from all the others, but still I held back. Unsure why, just waiting for inspiration to hit.
There was a window cleaning gantry hanging over the side, not exactly above where I estimated the apartment was located, but close enough. I'd planned to check the floor out, watch the apartment door from there. But seeing inside was always the ultimate goal.
I moved, silent and sleek through the rain and shadows, swift and unseen by street-cams or residents glancing out of their windows. Within seconds I'd made the service entrance and had my decoder out and attached to the door. I blocked the glow of the digital display as it attempted to crack the code. For a residential apartment building it had good security, because it took the device twice as long as it should have. My first indication I was in the right place.
Once through I flashed my laser at camera lenses, quickly making short work of the ground floor. The stairwell required another decoding, making my shoulders tense and my ears ring trying to hear any approaching noise. I half expected to see an eScanner, what with the level of security this place had, and a part of me was disappointed not to face that challenge tonight.
Still, gaining access was always a thrill, regardless of the level of obstacles.
I sucked in a deep breath as the door disengaged and then I was off up the stairs, counting silently in my head, my ankle only just offering a small twitch every now and then. By the tenth floor that twitch had become a dull ache. By the fifteenth it had started to send shooting pains up my shins. By the twentieth I was favouring that leg. The last five floors I had to walk.
Anger was never a good accompaniment when you planned to break and enter.
I didn't waste time with getting the decoder attached to the roof access, even as I sucked in desperate breaths of air trying to re-oxygenate. Eighteen seconds later I was out on the roof in the wind and rain.
I crouched down and checked for security-cams, coming up blank. Not many people would have need to access the roof of a residential building, most security systems overlooked this as a possible crack in their façade. Lock codes more than enough to ensure the average Citizen kept out of the way of the window cleaning and air-con maintenance crews.
Once satisfied no alarms had been set off and no one was waiting to attack, I strode across the surface towards the gantry and leaned over the side of the building to see how far down it actually was.
I'd have to jump, or start the unit up. And I had no intention of drawing attention to myself with activating machinery in the middle of the night. Someone would pick that up, I was sure. Checking my pockets to be certain everything was contained, I lowered myself over the side of the rooftop, hanging on by my fingertips on the ledge of the thirty storey building, then let myself drop.
A soft thud sounded out as I landed in the middle of the gantry platform, then a sharp screech as the metal siding caught on the edge of the building's wall. It swayed for a moment, making me lose my balance and end up clinging to the struts or fall over the side, meeting a swift death at the bottom no doubt. Heights had never bothered me, but even I let out a little shocked gasp at how much farther there was to fall.
I closed my eyes, sucked in a deep breath, and waited for the gantry to still. Water ran down inside my jacket collar, mixing with perspiration and making me shiver despite the uncomfortable heat. Thankfully I'd slipped gloves on, so my hands gripped the struts securely and gave me an anchor to fight the fear.
When the swaying had slowed enough, I opened my lids and looked around the platform finding exactly what I needed. A harness, attached to high quality safety lines, sat waiting to be used in an unlocked box at one end. If you made it this far, the window cleaning gang clearly believed you must belong there.
I slipped the harness on, made sure the carabiners were all safely hooked in, and tested the anchor with a sharp tug on the rope. Then moved to the side of the gantry, climbing over the railing and purposely slowing my breaths. Despite the height and the wind buffeting the gantry, making it sway; despite the rain making every surface slick and obscuring my vision, making it hard to see in the dim light up here; despite the fact I was about to let go of the one solid thing holding me aloft, I felt at peace.
I leaned forward, as far as my arm could go, stretching while still holding on to the railing, then let go.
For a second I was weightless, free falling without my flight-suit. Then my hand met the ledge of a window and my fingers gripped on.
I hung suspended there for a second, puffing short breaths through my pursed lips, then I began to move sideways, my arms straining, the muscles across my shoulders bunching, an ache starting almost immediately and becoming a constant throb within moments throughout my frame. It took six long seconds to get far enough along to find a foothold and relieve the agony that had become my fingers. I allowed myself a further few seconds to enjoy the change of position, and then I kept going.
Ten minutes later I'd made it over three sets of windows, the occupants in one apartment not even looking up from their vid-screens at the figure who hung suspended in front of their lounge. By the time I reached the first window of the apartment that should have been the tech whiz's, my safety rope was taut. I could go no further, but I knew this window led to the apartment's kitchen, as it had in the one I'd just passed. Entering in over the sink is always a noisy endeavour, but I had no choice.
I tested the locks with one free hand and found them surprisingly solid. There was no illumination inside. The kitchen thankfully empty, the lights all switched off. If the tech whiz was home, which he should have been, tonight was a curfew night, then he wasn't in this room. But he could easily have been in the next. I waited a moment to see if there was movement, straining to hear noise through the kitchen window glass, but only hearing the sound of rain on the concrete of the building mixed with my harsh breaths.
Finally I couldn't stay still any longer. I either had to retreat or break in. I was here. No one was watching. Of course, there was only one path for me to take.
I tugged my glove off, using my teeth, and twisted the ring on the middle finger of my right hand until it faced the glass, then flicked it with my thumbnail activating the laser cutter. Within seconds I had the glass removed and placed carefully on one side of the kitchen bench.
No sound.
Nothing from within.
I hoisted myself up onto the sill and pulled my body through the tight opening, thankful my frame was slim.
I slithered to the tiled floor and crouched down, my heart pumping, adrenaline suffusing my veins.
Everything was still. I had the feeling my tech whiz was not home.
A smattering of disappointment seeped into my body and I stood up, re-sheathing my gloveless hand, and glancing around. I unbuckled the carabiner that attached the safety rope to my harness and hooked it quietly onto the handle of a drawer, as something suddenly occurred to me.
There were no plates on the bench. No half eaten packets of biscuits, no tea or coffee canisters, no flowe
rs in a vase on the small, bare table at the other end of the kitchen. I crossed the space and opened a pantry door, finding it empty.
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath. This was an uninhabited home.
I cursed my miscalculation, turned to look back at the hole in the window and then heard a sound.
An electronic beep, followed by a hum, and then a dial tone.
I walked silently through the kitchen towards that sound, already pretty sure I knew what I would find.
In the middle of what would have been the lounge room, if it had furniture to make it so, was a small desk. On it a computer, attached to a telephone, wired into the Wánměi Net.
This was his rerouteing location. A fail-safe so he could stay hidden. Probably someone's actual home; an identity perhaps that didn't exist in reality, but the Overseers were tricked into believing that it did. I let a small breath of air out in surprise and I admit, respect. He'd fooled me as well.
I turned slowly to take in the rest of the vacant space and came face to face with a security camera lens staring down at me from the corner of the room. It zoomed in.
Of all the rookie mistakes to make, this was mine?
I smiled ruefully at the camera, pulled out my laser pointer and aimed.
Ten seconds later the camera lens was fried... but then the phone began to ring.
Chapter 13
Very Clever
Trent
"Oh, she is good," Si said with awe.
"How the hell did she get in there?" I demanded.
"Not through the door," Si offered. "Looked like she walked in from the kitchen."
I stared at the last image of her smiling up at the camera, her face wet from the rain, flushed, I'd thought, from the heat. But now I wondered if it was her exertions that had made that pink glow suffuse her pale skin. Her hair was tied back again; an inappropriate braid like she'd worn at Wántel. I was beginning to like that style, and not just because it was non-compliant. I could see every inch of that perfect face. She wasn't in a flight-suit, so she didn't intend to jump out a window, but as my eyes followed the line of her fitted jacket, down to her seductively tight black trousers, they snagged on a harness.
"She climbed down from the roof," I said.
"Oh, she is good," Si repeated.
I let a breath out in an incredulous snort.
"Who abseils down a thirty storey apartment building and breaks in through the kitchen window in a thunderstorm?" I asked the room.
"She is one crazy bitch," Kevin offered.
"And why?" I added.
"She followed the address attached to that phone number," Si offered.
"Just to see if you were legit?" I asked.
Si's turn to snort. "Me, she would have left well enough alone. No, this is because of you and that fucking message."
I smiled. It was instinctive and I was thinking maybe a little cocky.
Si rolled his eyes.
"So what now, boss?" he asked.
"Phone her."
"And say what?"
"Congratulations?" I suggested.
"This is so wrong," Si muttered, but opened up a line and started to dial the phone in the apartment where I hoped she still stood.
It rang five times before she answered.
"I'm disappointed," she said down the line in way of greeting.
I slowly sat down in a chair and lifted my booted feet to the top of a desk, leaning back and making myself comfortable. The room had stilled, absolutely dead quiet. Si looked at me as though I was mad, I didn't bother to see what anyone else was doing. I should have been grateful that Carla had left ten minutes ago, but I was too busy having fun to think about that near miss right now.
"You shouldn't be," I offered. "You've done surprisingly well."
"Surprisingly?" she asked, affronted I think. "You left me bread crumbs the size of boulders. I hardly had to work for it at all."
"But you still don't know my name," I teased, not entirely sure if my claim was right.
"It's not your name I'm after."
For some reason my body decided to translate those words into something far more erotic than I think she'd intended. I could feel myself hardening, tension zinging throughout my frame.
I licked my lips, shifted in my seat surreptitiously, and said, "But I know so much about you, Honourable Selena Carstairs."
"What is in a name?" she murmured.
I resisted the temptation to complete the quote, hearing more in her tone than just the words themselves.
"You don't like your name?" I asked instead.
"I don't need to know yours," she corrected with haughty Elite flair.
"Aren't you afraid?" I pushed.
"Fear only excites me."
Oh, God. I wanted this woman.
My feet met the floor as I leaned forward, as though I could get closer to her if I moved closer to the microphone on Si's desk.
"What else excites you?" I asked.
She laughed. It was rich and throaty. Confident and alluring. Every man in the room stopped breathing for a second and just felt.
"I don't know you well enough to tell you that, Cardinal," she finally said.
For some reason her calling me Cardinal made me mad. It was all she knew me as, but still. I wondered what my name would sound like in that sexy voice. I wondered whether she'd like it.
"We should remedy that," I remarked.
"Very well," she replied, sounding every inch the Elite she was. "As curfew is still in effect, and you obviously are not nearby, shall we make a date for the morning?"
I wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic. Her tone belied contempt, but I couldn't believe she'd freely meet with me. She must have still suspected I was the enemy, even if I had access to inappropriate set-ups like the one she was standing next to in that empty apartment room.
"Where do you suggest?" I asked carefully, Si trying to give me a pointed look. Which I ignored.
"Do you know Yum Cha in Wáikěiton?"
Holy shit, she was for real.
"Yes," I managed, too distracted with possibilities to say more.
"Eleven o'clock," she whispered, as though our conversation was personal, intimate.
I was so fucked.
"I'll be there," I announced, sounding like I was committing to more than a first date.
She laughed again, this time more of a chuckle.
"And Cardinal," she said, humour still lacing her tone. "Don't wear the cloak."
"The cloak?" I asked, confused.
"I figured out why you didn't look right," she said softly, a caress of words across my skin. I closed my eyes, not wanting the conversation to end, not wanting her to stop talking. Wishing it was in person, her lips against my ear.
Not in a room with several other guys listening in.
"A small mistake," she added. "Your Cardinal cloak is two seasons old."
What?
"No it's not," I said, sure we had the most up-to-date uniforms. I glanced at Si. He shrugged, offering a dumbfounded shake of his head.
"Check," she suggested. "But I think you'll find the buttons should have an engraving of the Wánměi coat of arms."
There is no way she picked up that.
"I think you'll find, Honourable, that they did have the requisite engraving," I bluffed.
Si was shaking his head, frantically pointing at an image of a Cardinal he'd brought up on the screen. He'd enlarged it to show the detail of the buttons. Which were shined to a gleam... and quite blank.
"Very clever," I whispered, but the line had already gone dead.
Chapter 14
Let's Get You Changed
Lena
So, he wasn't a real Cardinal. That made me feel... elated in fact. The idea that he was a Cardinal had been unnerving, adding danger to a situation that had already screamed dangerous. But it wasn't that.
I hadn't wanted him to be a Cardinal.
I smiled at the near empty room, then slipped out of the h
arness, draping it over the table next to the computer and phone with care, and walked to the front door. A parting gift.
It didn't take me long to make it outside undetected, and it was a damn sight easier than clinging to the side of the building in the rain. I found my "borrowed" car in its safe and secure spot, ready and waiting. Within minutes I was on the road, moving back towards the inner city, the residential apartment blocks of Hillsborough flashing by as I made my way on the still empty streets.
The drive wasn't quite as nerve racking as the earlier one over there, but it still held a certain amount of thrill despite the excitement that threatened to consume me at having found out at least something about the man.
I was no closer to discovering who the tech whiz was and therefore scrubbing Lena Carr's name. But I'd take the small victory because it was significant. Had he been a real Cardinal any manner of things could have gone wrong.
The fact that he was a Citizen seemed easier to swallow. Maybe because it was Citizens I dealt with by choice. I was forced to attend Elite gatherings, to behave like a model Honourable because of my birth. But I chose to spend most of my time with Citizens, because to me they were more honest than the Elite.
Of course, you couldn't really trust anyone. Not when the consequences of breaking the rules were so harsh.
I parked the car back in its allotted slot; there was nothing I could do for the odometer reading. But how many times did people actually pay attention to those? They were more inclined to notice the dirt, or rain water on the polished paintwork, when the car had been under cover for two days.
It was out of my hands. If they questioned it, they'd pull security tapes, and only see the blurred image of a woman behind the wheel and a shadow as she moved through the dimmer parts of the garage floors.
By the time I made my apartment's front door the adrenaline and excitement of the evening had worn off. My ankle hurt. My muscles felt stretched from hanging on the side of a sky-scraper, and I was sick of being wet. The first order of business, after deactivating Shiloh as I walked in, was to shower.
Elite (Citizen Saga, Book 1) Page 9
