Blackcollar: The Backlash Mission

by Timothy Zahn

  Lathe shrugged. "That is the question, isn't it? It may depend on how deeply they're involved with the criminal element in town."

  "That barman—Phelling—talked about them drumming up business here. Could be the local criminals keep them informed on potential collie targets."

  "You really believe that?"

  Skyler smiled lopsidedly. "Probably not. Though if they've really quit the war to become mercenaries they're taking an awful risk on Jensen's righteous indignation."

  "We'll save that threat for our trump card," Lathe said dryly.

  "Right."

  Conversation lagged, and Lathe took the opportunity to study their booth and its surroundings. From the shoulders up they were shielded from the rest of the room only by the privacy plastic—which, while not even remotely bulletproof, at least fogged images enough to make aiming difficult. The booth's seatback was thick enough to provide a somewhat better shield, though again its strength was dubious. The table itself bothered him more. Thick and heavy, it was bolted solidly to the floor via a metallic central stem. An immediate and formidable obstacle to a fast exit from the booth, should such a move become necessary. He was surreptitiously testing the strength of its connectors when Skyler cleared his throat. "I believe this is our company arriving now."

  Lathe looked up. Moving toward them from the anteroom was a slim oriental man. He stepped to the edge of their privacy shield, glanced at Skyler, then turned his attention to Lathe. "I'm Lonato Kanai," he said, raising right hand to left shoulder in formal blackcollar salute. His dragonhead had the vertically slit eyes of an ordinary commando.

  "Comsquare Damon Lathe," Lathe said, returning the salute. "Commando Rafe Skyler. Sit down."

  Kanai did so, something in his face and movements suggesting wariness. "I suppose we might as well dispense with the obvious question of where you came from," he said, "and go right to the important one: why are you here?"

  "Here in Denver or here in the Shandygaff?" Lathe asked.

  Kanai smiled faintly. "Either, or both."

  "We hear you're for hire. We want some details."

  The smile vanished. "We handle... difficult jobs for our clients," he said, his voice oddly stiff.

  "Penetration, goods recovery, intelligence—"

  "Against whom?" Skyler interrupted.

  Kanai's lip twitched. "Against whomever the client wants."

  "Government targets?" Skyler persisted. "Rival criminal bosses? Or just ordinary citizens who get out of line?"

  Kanai's brow darkened. "We don't touch the ordinary citizens," he growled. "Ever. Only those in charge."

  "The government?" Lathe asked.

  "The government isn't in charge in Denver," Kanai snorted. "The roachmen keep pretty much to Athena while the parasites run the city."

  "Parasites like Manx Reger?"

  "Like him and a dozen more. He's furious with you for whatever you did to his men this morning, incidentally. You'd better stay clear of northwestern Denver."

  "I'll keep that in mind," Lathe said. "Why doesn't the government do something about these organizations?"

  Kanai eyed him. "You are new here. The roachmen don't do anything because they can't. Organized crime was entrenched in Denver long before the war, and it would cost billions to eradicate it."

  "And the people as a whole can't do anything?"

  "The people generally accept it." Kanai shrugged. "You have to understand that the bosses here are parasites but not bloodsuckers. They want long-term profits, not a dead city. Their payment scale runs lower even than the roachmen's taxes—which in turn are lower here than in a lot of other areas because there aren't as many official government services. In exchange the bosses provide protection for their clients, certain financial services, and other benefits. It really does qualify as an invisible government—and at ten percent or less of their income most people consider it a fair bargain."

  "Reger's men were charging twenty-five percent," Skyler murmured.

  "Spot-market rates," Kanai said. "Must have thought you were outsiders trying to move in."

  "How long has this system been running?" Lathe asked.

  "Openly, since the end of the war. Covertly, probably a lot longer. As I said, the people here generally accept the situation."

  "Like they accept the Ryqril," Skyler said. "No wonder Torch can only draw the lunatic fringe."

  "Torch?" Kanai's eyes narrowed. "Have you been in contact with them?"

  "Not yet. But we've heard stories about them."

  Kanai relaxed again. "Oh. Well, your stories are old ones, I'm afraid. Torch disappeared about five years ago. I thought for a minute they'd come back."

  "Destroyed?"

  "If so, it was done with remarkable finesse. We had some slight contact with them, and as far as we could tell they simply up and vanished."

  Lathe stroked his dragonhead gently. "You were working with them before that?"

  Kanai shifted slightly in his seat. "Not working, exactly. We occasionally exchanged information, but they were too radical for our taste."

  "They believed in outmoded stuff like overthrowing the Ryqril?" Skyler asked coldly.

  Kanai returned the other's gaze steadily, but there was tension around his mouth. "I know what you're thinking," he told Skyler quietly. "But you're wrong. We haven't given up the fight, just switched tactics. When the time is right, we'll make our move."

  "Glad to hear it," Lathe said. "Because the time is right."

  "Meaning?"

  "Meaning we're on an important mission here, and we're calling on your squad to assist us."

  Kanai stared at him—a long, measuring stare rich with conflicting emotions. "You'll need to talk directly to our doyen about that," he said at last.

  "Fine. Where is he?"

  Abruptly, Kanai twitched a smile. "At the moment, he's out looking for you." He glanced at his watch. "At any rate, I doubt he'd be willing to meet on such short notice."

  "You did so."

  "I'm the contact man," he said simply. "It's my job to be both visible and available. The rest of us can't afford that kind of exposure."

  Lathe pursed his lips; but that was the only way a guerrilla force survived. "All right, then. Where and when?"

  "Tomorrow night at nine, here," Kanai said. "I'll either bring him or else take you to him."

  "Fair enough." Lathe stood up, Skyler following suit.

  "It might help," Kanai said, "if I could tell him what exactly you want from us."

  Lathe looked down at him, considering. The other had a point; but on the other hand the comsquare had no intention of saying anything important in a place like this. "For starters," he said, picking his words carefully, "I want the names and current locations of high-ranking military people who were stationed in the area during the war."

  "Um." Kanai frowned thoughtfully. "That's a pretty big order. I don't know of anyone higher than colonel who's still here."

  "A colonel might work. Just do what you can."

  "All right." Slowly, Kanai got to his feet. "Comsquare... I have to be honest with you. Denver—and our position in the power structure here—is very stable. You're an intrusion, and an unknown one at that, and there may be some who won't like the risk you bring."

  "Are you telling us your doyen might betray us?" Skyler asked.

  "No, of course not. But he might decline to help you."

  Lathe pursed his lips. "Let's face that possibility when we get there, all right?"

  "Yes, sir." Kanai looked as if he wanted to say something more. But he merely nodded. "Tomorrow at nine, then. Good night."

  Lathe nodded back and left the table, Skyler falling into step beside him. "What do you think?" the big man murmured.

  "Rusty but willing," Lathe told him. "Let's hope his comsquare is equally tired of being a hired thug."

  The little man and his two cohorts were nowhere in sight as the blackcollars crossed into the anteroom. The coatcheck woman was still at her window, though, a
nd she looked up as they approached. "I saw Mr. Kanai come in a short time ago," she said.

  "We had our talk," Lathe nodded.

  She smiled. "I hope it was productive."

  Something about the way she said that... and abruptly Lathe realized what it was. "I hope so, too," he said. "You work here every night?"

  "Five nights a week, till three a.m."

  "You handle anything besides coats?" he asked with a wink.

  She seemed taken aback. "Sometimes they need an extra waitress."

  "I was thinking more on the personal level." Lathe shrugged. "Never mind. We can go elsewhere for female companionship."

  A look that was almost disgust crossed her face before she could cover it. "Good night, sir," she said, dropping her eyes from his gaze.

  They left the building and headed west across the mall. Though it was nearly eleven o'clock, most of the stores lining the area were still open, and the pedestrian traffic was correspondingly heavy.

  "Interesting," Skyler murmured, nodding to one of the shops. "High-class places, notice—jewelry stores, restaurants, import shops. You suppose the Shandygaff's a common meeting place because each of these places is owned by a different boss?"

  "So that if anyone starts trouble, one of his own places is likely to get trashed in the process?" Lathe shrugged. "Makes sense. We'll ask Kanai about it sometime."

  "Yeah." Skyler cleared his throat. "Incidentally, you mind telling me what that business with the coatcheck lady was all about?"

  "Not at all. You notice anything out of character about her?"

  "Aside from not mentioning her other second job is backup gun in case of trouble?" Skyler shrugged. "I don't know. She seemed maybe a shade too nosy about our talk with Kanai, but maybe she backs up the little guy in that post, too."

  "Possibly. But I'm referring more to the fact that she's just about the first regular person we've met in this town who wasn't scared spitless of us."

  "Mm. Interesting. Of course, she sees a lot of Kanai and his friends... but so does Mr. Charm, and he folded as fast as Reger's harmers did. Implication is she knows more about blackcollars generally than can be learned from the local representatives?"

  "That was my thought. Hence the leering-soldier-in-search-of-random-female gambit."

  "Totally out of character for you."

  "For me and most blackcollars I've known, too," Lathe said. "And you saw how she reacted."

  "Surprised," the other said thoughtfully. "Almost disillusioned, even. So you're right—she does know a fair amount about blackcollars. Government spy?"

  "Could be. Laissez-faire attitude or not, I can't see them or the Ryqril failing to keep an eye on such an obvious meeting place as the Shandygaff. But she could just as easily be a war veteran who worked with the Aegis Mountain blackcollar contingent." He shrugged. "Or even a member of Torch."

  "You think they're still around?"

  "I don't believe in fanatics deciding overnight to roll over and quit. Beyond that I haven't even got a guess as to what they've done with themselves. But any way you slice it, that woman bears watching."

  Skyler nodded. "Agreed."

  They'd reached the edge of the mall now and the quiet business-section street where they'd parked their car. They got in and waited, and a few minutes later Mordecai joined them. "Well?" Lathe inquired.

  "Just one," the small man said indifferently. "Big harmer in fancy dress. Not very professional."

  "Probably never had to tail blackcollars before," Skyler said dryly, starting the engine.

  Pulling away from the curb, they headed off into the night.

  Chapter 13

  Caine had expected Security to make another snatch at them before they finished tracing the carefully convoluted route to their new hideout house; failing that, the next most likely scenario was that the enemy would launch a predawn raid. He was therefore more than a little surprised to awake the next morning with sunlight streaming in through the dirty windows and not a single Security man in sight outside them.

  "Now what?" Braune asked when they'd breakfasted as best they could on what rations they'd had in their emergency packs.

  "First step is to try and replace the stuff we lost with the car," Caine told them. "We still have one diamond left, so buying food and clothes should be easy enough. The more specialized equipment, unfortunately, is going to be another problem entirely. The bug stomper alone is probably irreplaceable now, and the spare weapons and explosives aren't going to be a lot easier."

  "What exactly were we going to use the explosives for, if it's not still a secret?" Alamzad asked. "We certainly weren't going to blast our way into Aegis Mountain with those firecrackers."

  "No, of course not," Caine said. "But at this point it would be nice to attract Torch's attention. To do that we need to make some noise, and to do that properly we need explosives."

  "Okay." Colvin shrugged. "So who around here would have explosives on hand?"

  "And who wouldn't also have six layers of security wrapped around it," Pittman added dryly.

  "That's the real problem," Caine agreed. "Any suggestions?"

  "Construction companies," Braune said promptly. "With the rate of growth Denver shows, there's bound to be a lot of building and demolition work going on around here."

  "We could presumably follow a construction truck back to its headquarters from a site," Pittman said. "Of course, that would mean tailing in broad daylight in a car that Security may have a good ident on."

  "So what we'd really like is a night worker who's at least marginally connected with explosives,"

  Caine said, an idea clicking into place. "That remind you of anyone?"

  There was a short pause. "You mean Geoff Dupre?" Colvin hazarded. "But he works for the city water department, doesn't he?"

  "For the city water retrieval network, specifically," Alamzad corrected him. "And any system that has that much underground piping will use a hell of a lot of explosives."

  "Only if they're constantly upgrading or expanding the system," Braune said doubtfully. "Routine maintenance wouldn't require anything big."

  "We don't need anything big, either, if all we're looking for is noisemakers," Caine pointed out.

  "Besides, it occurs to me that there's another good reason to check out the retrieval network. The majority of the pipelines were presumably laid before the war, and some of them may travel under Athena. If so, the government's cozy little fortress city may not be quite as secure as they think."

  Colvin smiled, almost wickedly. "What an intriguing thought. I hope you're right."

  "We'll find out tonight," Caine told him. "Right now, we'll concentrate on replacing our lost living supplies and getting caught up on our rest. This may be our last chance to take it easy for a long time."

  —

  With the attempted tailing from the Shandygaff in mind, Lathe elected to take a cautious, roundabout route to Reger's estate, and it was therefore after nine in the morning by the time he drove down the long road to the main gate. The guards passed him with considerably more respect than those the previous day had shown, and a few minutes later he was at the house.

  Reger—in the flesh this time—was waiting for him just inside the door. "Comsquare Lathe," he said in greeting, his voice barely audible over the din of hammers, saws, and drills that seemed to fill the house. "I think I may have some news for you about your missing companions. If you'll come with me...?"

  They set off through a maze of drop cloths, scaffolding, and busy men. Directing the whole operation was Jensen; exchanging "all's well" hand signals with him, Lathe continued on. Reger, it appeared, was deadly serious about transforming his estate into a fortress.

  "There was a disturbance just off of Route One-nineteen yesterday afternoon," Reger said when they were seated in his office, its soundproofing holding most of the noise outside at bay. "A group of smug-runners on their way to a drop stopped to check out a camouflaged car and were crunched for their curiosity. One
of them got away with the car while losing his own, this after Security somehow got mixed up in it. The runner aborted the planned pickup and ditched the car as soon as he could, but not before grabbing the stuff in the trunk." Reaching into his middle drawer, Reger withdrew a small three-pointed shuriken and handed it across the desk. "One of yours?"

  Lathe nodded, picking it up for closer examination. "It's a nonstandard shape we teach them to carry as an emergency push-knife. How did you get hold of it?"

  Reger smiled grimly. "As I said, the guys were runners. They work for someone I know in south Denver."

  "Who was kind enough to volunteer the information and the shuriken?"

  Reger shrugged. "We traded." He didn't elaborate.

  "So where is Caine now?"

  "We don't actually know. I've sent a description of their new car to my people, so ideally we'd have him in a day or two. Of course, since Security may also have an ident on the car, your friends might ditch the thing as fast as they can."

  "Which brings us back to square one," Lathe said with a grimace.

  "It might." Reger paused. "There's one other item that you might find interesting. Before the runner ditched the car, he gave it a quick once-over... and in the process found out it was marked."

  "Um."

  Reger gave him a keen look. "That's all you can say? 'Um'? That means Security's been on to Caine since before he got that car, possibly since he landed here."

  "Security's been on to us before." Lathe shrugged. "Their usual problem is that they'd rather have information than bodies, and to get it they have to let us run relatively loose."

  "There are a whole spectrum of drugs—"

  "None of which is especially effective against the psychor training we give our people," Lathe told him. "Let me worry about Security; you worry about finding Caine. And I'd like to get the rest of his equipment back from your runner friend, too, if I can."

  "That should be possible." Reger had a sour look on his face. "You know, Comsquare, you strike me as someone who might well be playing two of the corners of this triangle. If you are, be advised right now that I have no intention of being pulled into whatever mess you're trying to make."