The Credulity Nexus

by Graham Storrs

  “You'll bring the cops down on us,” one of them grumbled at her back. “These places are full of cameras. Alarms will be going off all over the city.”

  “You think I can't handle a few cops?”

  “I think you'll get us all killed, that's what.”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “So get lost, if you're scared.”

  As she walked on ahead, she imagined the two goons looking at one another and then at her back, silently agreeing between themselves it was more than their lives were worth to walk out on the job. They knew Celestina was taking a personal interest. They all moved together down the corridor, the lucie fading away at their command.

  Rivers stopped them outside Blake’s door and switched her vision to overlay infra-red. She couldn't make out much detail inside, but she was fairly sure there were two person-sized heat signatures near the middle of the room. She stood back to let the goons go past.

  “OK, boys,” she said. “In you go.”

  -oOo-

  When Rik and Freymann arrived at the hospital, their car wouldn't take them to the entrance. Instead, it drove them towards one of the multi-storey car parks.

  “Police override,” the display said, playing an animated FBI logo. “The FBI apologises for any inconvenience. Your co-operation in this matter is required under Section 25 of the Police (Emergency Powers) Act, 2037. Thank you for your understanding.”

  They were being driven around a police perimeter that uniformed LAPD officers were setting up. Beyond it, they could see FBI agents in body armour jumping out of armoured personnel carriers and rushing into the hospital building. Rik pounded at the car's controls, trying to make it stop, but its electronic brain was temporarily under the FBI's control, and its only response was to ignore him completely.

  “The guys who who are after Blake must be here already,” Freymann said.

  “You think?” Rik heaved at the door handle, but the car was not letting them out.

  Freymann worried about what Rik might do. By the looks of things, someone was picking off his friends, probably his relatives too. Rik didn't strike her as the kind of man who would sit back while people he loved were in danger. He struck her more as the type whose first and only instinct was to try to save them. The type who would turn into a raving berserker if anything thwarted that instinct. She needed to calm him down.

  “We can't go barging in there, Rik. The place is full of federal agents.”

  “What if the upload's in there, too?”

  “Then the Feds can do more to protect your friends than we can.”

  Rik did not look convinced. “Give me a gun.” He pushed a massive hand out towards her.

  “Not a good idea. Not now.” She had already made up her mind that when the time was right, she would give him the gun, with no compunction at all. Almost from the minute she first saw him, she felt like she could trust him – a feeling that had grown over the past few hours. She was convinced that Rik was not the bad guy in all this. In fact, he seemed like a nice guy caught up in events that were out of his control.

  “I'm going to shoot out the windows. Give me a gun.” He looked like he planned to take one if she didn't comply.

  She reached into her bag and drew her handgun. She pointed it at Rik's chest and flicked off the safety. Trust or not, she wasn't going to let him wreck everything.

  “Just settle down, big guy. If you shoot out the windows, the car alarm will go off. Then the Feds will want to take a look. We don't want that.”

  Looking daggers at her, Rik slowly subsided. “What's it to you if the Feds haul my ass off? You've done your job.”

  “Not until I get that package.”

  He glowered into the Freymann's eyes. Her gaze, like the gun barrel, was steady and unwavering. She had no intention of shooting him, but she sure as hell wasn't going to let him know that.

  “What good am I to you now?” he asked. His voice was low but tense. “You know I don't have a clue where the package is. You know that the only person who might know will either be dead in a few minutes, or in FBI custody. So let me go save Brie.”

  “Rik, I want to save Brie too, but running around armed out there will only get you killed.”

  Rik turned away, almost snarling in his frustration.

  “You know I'm right, Rik. Believe me, I understand how much you want to help your friends. I'm with you. I'll help. But we've got to do it the right way.”

  What was she saying? This wasn't part of the mission brief. It had just come out. Looking at the big sap tearing himself apart, all helpless and frantic, tugged at something inside her that she’d kept safely out of reach for many years.

  The car swung onto a ramp and into a tunnel. Slowly, it made its way down into an underground car park, winding through the rows of parked cars with funereal care. Rik slammed a fist against a window, but kept his jaw clenched and said nothing.

  As soon as the car was parked and its door locks clicked open, Rik was outside and running. Freymann hurried after him. They crashed through an exit door and up the concrete stairs, emerging into bright California sunshine with high-rise hospital buildings all around them. Rik paused to get his bearings, and Freymann grabbed his arm.

  “You've got a plan, right?” she asked.

  “Maybe.”

  Rik set off in a direction that wasn't straight towards his friend, and that was enough to satisfy Freymann that he'd actually thought about what he was doing. Despite her heels, she managed to keep close behind him as he sped across the hospital campus, following a wide arc that brought them round to the back of the ICU building. Before they got there, Rik stopped dead, and Freymann almost ran into the back of him.

  “There are Feds around the entrance, there,” he said, pointing to the half-dozen men and women who had taken cover to watch the delivery bay. He moved to the shelter of a row of dumpsters, looking around all the time. Freymann followed his gaze, trying to see what he was looking for.

  “There,” he said, pointing out a black van parked down the street against the adjacent building.

  “What's so special about–?”

  But Rik was in motion again. With a groan, she set off after him. Following a convoluted route, well out of sight of the Feds, they emerged close to the black van. Rik ran straight up to it and in through the back doors. Freymann was right behind him.

  Light barely penetrated the van's heavily-tinted windows and it took a moment for them to adapt to the sudden gloom.

  “Do you mind telling me what we're doing here?” Freymann asked, although she'd already guessed.

  Rik held up a hand for silence as he scanned the interior, making her clench her jaw and scowl at him. A take-charge guy was great – on a dinner date – but this was work and she was the boss here. Still, she couldn't help joining in the visual sweep of the van.

  There were a couple of long bench seats in the back and two swivelling bucket seats at the front. A small netNode lay on one of the benches, abandoned by whoever had used it last. Rik reached for the little silver box, but she got to it first. She tried to interface her cogplus with it, with only limited success. A display told them that access was denied. She handed it to Rik, but he had no luck with it, either.

  “You think the guys who are after your friend came in this van?” Freymann asked. “Why?”

  Rik looked at her for the first time since they left the parking garage. “Because the crooks always use a black van when they're planning to snatch somebody. Just like the Feds always use a white one.”

  “What? Are you nuts?”

  Leaning back in his seat and tossing the netNode aside, Rik flashed a grin at her. “It was a hunch, that's all. It's the only vehicle nearby that looks right for the job. Look, it's like this. Either the guys after Brie are on their own, in which case you're right, the Feds will get them. Or they're with the upload, in which case, you're wrong. The Feds don't stand a chance.

  “But that black-skinned killing machine will want to get Brie away from t
he cops so that she can interrogate her. Which means she's probably going to bring Brie back here and drive her somewhere. Either that, or the upload came on her own, probably didn't use a vehicle at all, and will head off across the roofs or something with Brie on her shoulders. In which case, we're left sitting in some stranger's van, looking like assholes.”

  “Great! So in this brilliant plan of yours, the very best scenario is that the upload comes bursting through that door any second, possibly with a couple of friends, blows us away, and drives off to interrogate Brie?” She didn't know quite why she was giving him such a hard time. She'd come to the same conclusions herself, more or less. Maybe it was because what she said was true. Either they were wasting their time, or they were trapped in that van like fish in a barrel.

  Rik bent down and began groping under the seats. “Yep. And that's why we're going to need...” With a grunt, he heaved two mean-looking machine guns out and threw one to Freymann. “...these!”

  She felt her mouth fall open, even as her hands and eyes automatically checked the magazine and chambered a round. Son of a bitch! “How the hell did you know... No. Don't tell me. It was a hunch, right?”

  He gave her that wide, impish grin of his. She could get used to seeing that smile, she thought. And, before she knew it, she found herself grinning right back.

  Chapter 14

  Rivers and her unhappy companions didn't waste time trying to make Brie talk. They just bundled her up, tied her wrists, gagged her and headed for the door. By the time the two men dragged her into the corridor, Brie had already given up struggling. Rivers knew the guys were right: the hospital cameras would have identified her and alerted the police the fist time she stepped into a corridor. They needed to get out fast and deal with the woman later.

  So turning to find three large men staring at them was an unpleasant surprise. At first, Rivers thought they might be more of Celestina's goons, but the three newcomers looked as shocked as she was by the encounter. Everybody drew their guns. Rivers drew both of hers. They all looked at the upload to see what she would do.

  To everybody's surprise, she turned her back on the interlopers and spoke to her companions.

  “Keep the woman alive,” she told them. “If she dies, I will kill both of you.” Brie goggled at Rivers in horror and began to struggle again.

  Rivers watched the woman squirming for a moment, then turned to the newcomers again. Behind her, her companions stared edging backwards along the corridor.

  “Who are you guys?” she asked, stepping towards them. “Cordell's people, I would guess. Now, do you want to turn around and run, or would you like to see how fast I am?”

  “That's far enough, lady. Just hand over the woman. We don't want no shooting match.”

  The speaker sounded nervous. He didn't take his eyes off Rivers for a moment.

  “Your boss didn't tell you to expect an upload, did he?” It seemed like a reasonable guess. “Otherwise you'd have come armed with something more than those little pop-guns. Am I right?”

  “You ain't indestructible,” the gunman said.

  Rivers smiled. “I'll give you points for bravado, but not for intelligence. Now run along. I'm in a hurry. The cops are going to be here any– Oh, shit!”

  The clatter of heavy boots coming from the stairwells at both ends of the corridor could only mean one thing.

  “FBI! Lay down your weapons! Hands above your heads! Do it! Now!”

  Federal agents came storming into the corridor from both directions, shouting the same instructions over and over. Cordell's thugs turned to face the ones behind them. Celestina's men did the same, leaving Rivers and Brie in the middle. It took Rivers a fraction of a second to weigh up the situation. The Feds were wearing state-of-the-art body armour. Neither she nor the hired guns had a weapon that would do more than inflict a few bruises on them. On the other hand, the FBI had clearly been expecting to meet an upload. They had heavy-duty machine guns which could, she knew, be loaded with armour-piercing, explosive munitions. In addition, they had buzz guns, which fired a stream of tiny hypersonic pellets that would cut through her body like a laser torch through tinfoil.

  Getting away with the woman was out of the question. She'd be lucky to get away with her life. But she wasn't going to let them take her.

  The Feds were still shouting and the goons were still wondering what to do. Rivers raised both her guns, pointed them at both groups of FBI agents at once, and fired.

  It took a moment for people to react, and then all hell broke loose. But in that moment, Rivers dropped her guns and launched herself at the corridor wall. It was an internal wall, just studs and plaster-board. Using the grip of her gecko-skin soles as leverage, and the amazing strength of her wonderful new body, she smashed her way through it with very little effort. While the Feds and the goons exchanged fire, she sprinted across the ward in which she found herself, tossed a resuscitation trolley through a window and climbed out through the hole it made onto the outer wall of the building.

  By the time the police had fought their way past the gunmen and followed her, she was long gone.

  -oOo-

  “So who do you really work for?” Rik asked as he and Freymann waited in the van.

  The woman looked at him with intelligent brown eyes and gave a small shrug. “MI6. It was Shah's idea. Bring you over here, get hold of the package, and take it home.”

  “Shah's Five, right?”

  She gave a cock-eyed grin. “Inter-agency co-operation. It happens sometimes.”

  “But you're really an American, yeah? No Brit does a New York accent that good.”

  “As American as you are.”

  Rik wondered if that was a dig at him. He'd taken lunar citizenship when he married the Drew sisters. Now he had dual nationalities. “No conflict of interest?”

  “Nya. We're all on the same side these days. Americans, Europeans, Aussies, Canadians, Lunies... Even the Russians are on the side of the Angels since the reforms. The sooner they declare a world government, the better, if you ask me. The real divisions aren't national any more. The lines we draw now are based on political systems and religions.”

  Rik took a closer look at the woman opposite him. He was starting to see more there than he had expected to find.

  “That still doesn't explain why you're working for the Brits and not the home team.”

  She gave him a steady look. “See the beaky nose? The swarthy skin? I got them from my Iranian, Muslim mother, not my whiter-than-white Jewish father. America's still too tangled up with Middle Eastern politics to completely trust someone with my background. For the Brits, petro-politics is all history now. They're not a player any more. Besides, they've got a bigger Muslim population over there than Palestine these days.”

  Rik looked at her large, dark eyes, prominent cheekbones and wide mouth, suddenly seeing her Persian ancestry. He'd vaguely assumed her features and colouration were Jewish, biased by her surname, he supposed. Now he knew better.

  “And how come you've decided to 'fess up about not being CIA after all this time?”

  Freymann actually laughed. “Because it was getting to be embarrassing, and you're not such a big, dumb asshole as you look. Anyway, I figure we can work together a lot easier with our cards on the table. We both want to get that package off the streets and to keep it out of the hands of whoever's looking for it, right?”

  Rik was noncommittal. “You got any backup out here?”

  “In LA? Hell, no! We've got a listening post and a couple of people to run errands, that's all. So no cavalry, if that's what you were hoping.”

  “Something like–”

  The van sagged on its suspension as something heavy landed almost silently on its roof. Rik and Freymann had their guns up in an instant; he covered the front and she took the back. Rik's breathing stopped, but his heart pounded on his ribs like a panel beater.

  The driver's door opened and the upload slid into one of the bucket seats, her coal-black body sin
uous and fast. Rik pushed the barrel of his machine gun into the small of her back.

  “Don't turn around,” he told her, seeing the upload's body stiffen. “Just drive us away from here. We've both got Heckler-Koch MG6 light machine guns pointed right at your precious brain-box. I don't really know how fast you are, lady, but these things fire fifteen rounds a second. That's thirty chances of killing you every single second. Do you want to play Russian roulette with a machine gun?”

  Without a word, Rivers started up the van, took manual control, and moved off. At the first available turning they took a left. The FBI troops waiting behind the hospital building glanced at them. Rik watched one man put a finger to his ear, obviously asking for instructions. By the time he started shouting at the others to get after the van, it had turned out of sight around another building.

  “They'll try to stop us leaving the site,” Freymann said.

  Rik shook his head. “This van's tougher than it looks; bullet-proof glass, armoured walls, cellular tyres. It was built to survive a bit of rough treatment. Am I right, driver?”

  Rivers shrugged, pushing the van to ever-higher speeds. “Why should I care? You're the ones that get perforated if you're wrong.”

  Rik dropped down between the seats, bracing himself with his legs and one arm as Rivers threw the van into a tight turn. Freymann slid to the floor too, landing with a curse and a clatter as she dropped the machine gun and had to scrabble to pick it up again.

  Two FBI agents flashed by the side of the van and were left behind. A rattle of bullets against the back doors didn't even leave a dent.

  “Where can I drop you guys?” Rivers called over her shoulder. “I'm going as far as the airport, if that suits you.”

  “I'm glad to see having a gun at your back doesn't inhibit your sense of humour,” Freymann said. Rik glanced at her as she nudged against him. She was having a hard time keeping herself from falling around. Unlike Rik, she couldn't keep the big machine gun pointed the right way with just one hand.