Moving Target
Page 17
The captain chuckled.
Quest took a step back, his expression almost stunned.
"So," Dar said. "When you've got your act together, give us a call. I seriously doubt you will." She added, "And, Quest? You might be able to bluster and bullshit the rest of these people about what you're going to get from them, but I've got a legal department the size of Alaska you're not going to enjoy dealing with."
It was a good exit speech, and Dar took advantage of it. She nudged Kerry toward the door and followed, refusing to wait for whatever lame retort she was sure Quest would come up with.
"You'll look like a fool on television!" Quest shouted. "How about that!"
More lame than she expected. Dar merely shook her head and ducked around the stairwell door, hustling Kerry in front of her. "Jackass."
"You're amazing," Kerry told her. "Have I told you that lately?"
"Am I?" Dar wiped a sheen of sweat off her brow. "It's just all bullshit, Kerry. Smoke and mirrors. This whole damn thing hasn't been anything but smoke and mirrors since the moment it started. I just can't figure out who the hell wins by it."
"Quest?" Kerry suggested. "He gets systems for his ships."
"Yeah, but it's all cosmetic, Ker." Dar finally put her finger on what had been bothering her. "They're not upgrading the engines or the mechanics. What the hell are they doing to do with them when they're done? They can't keep them in service."
"Huh." Kerry skipped off the last step and headed through the hold, now silent and empty. "But all this upgrading and all the, wait..." She murmured. "You're right. It's paint, and carpet, and us and wall sconces. Not plumbing or..."
"Yeah." Dar nodded, as they reached the gangway and started outside, glad of the moderately cooler breeze. "Just what exactly is the whole point here?"
A blast of light hit them and Dar threw up her arm instinctively to block it. "Hey!"
Kerry stopped behind her, shading her eyes as she stared at the cluster of people on the pier, surrounding the filming crew who had them pinned in a pair of movie lights as they came down off the ship. "What the heck?"
Dar continued walking slowly down the ramp, blinking against the powerful lights as she reached the pier concrete. "What is all this?" she asked, her eyes finding Cruickshank in the crowd. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
"No, we sure don't," Cruickshank told her, cheerfully. "Now, Ms. Roberts, we understand you've completed your install, is that right?"
Dar eyed her warily. "Right."
"But the ship has no power, so you can't demonstrate it, right?"
"That's right."
"So here we finally come down to it," the reporter said. "Everything that's gone on for the past few weeks comes down to this. You're the only ones finished, it's near sunset, everyone else is killing themselves to get done, and now you have to find a way to overcome this one last huge obstacle, and bring it home. Right?"
Dar cocked her head. "No."
"No?" Cruikshank said. "C'mon, Ms. Roberts. This is where we see that famous never say die, win at all costs reputation of yours. We're all waiting for it. How are you going to pull this one out?" She asked. "This story has become your story. How you got involved, how you fenced with your rivals, how you overcame all the roadblocks. So, what's the plan?"
Dar slowly removed her sunglasses that were hanging from one earpiece in her hip pocket. She settled them onto her nose, blocking the harsh light along with the sun. It gave her a moment to think, and a moment to regret thinking because of what her mind was coming up with.
"Two hundred extension cords and fifty pounds of gerbils," Kerry spoke up unexpectedly. "So, if you'll excuse us, we've got exercise wheels to put together. Dar?" She took her partner by the elbow. "We better make sure the plans for those haven't gotten out."
Dar kept her silence, allowing Kerry to lead her off through the crowd. She was aware of the rattle of the camera as it turned to follow them, but for once Cruickshank had been caught speechless. They managed to get to the gate and through it before they heard footsteps behind them, and Dar had the presence of mind to slam the gate behind her, hearing it lock. "Ker?"
"Eighty pounds of gerbils? We should really over engineer it a bit just in case. Way our luck's been running." Kerry muttered. "You know something? You know what I just realized, Dar?"
"We're being played."
Kerry turned her head and looked at Dar. "You knew?"
"I just figured it out," Dar admitted. "But it's the only thing that makes sense. We're being played. We all are, Shari and Michelle included. This is a scam, Ker."
"I'm not so sure it is." Kerry took hold of her forearm and slowed down. "I think--"
"Hey!"
They both turned to see Michelle headed toward them at a jog. From another direction, the Army guy was approaching them. From yet a third direction, Cruickshank and her team had managed to get around the gate and were headed their way.
Kerry exhaled. "We can outrun them."
"Sure. But it won't help," Dar replied. "We're going to have to come up with a plan."
"No gerbils?"
"No gerbils."
"But I thought you told Quest it was his problem?" Kerry said. "Why can't we just tell people that?"
They could, Dar privately acknowledged. But it was obvious that everyone here was expecting her not to, they were expecting to see a miracle. Her famous resourcefulness. That ILS magic. Alastair expected it. The reporters did.
Hell, Michelle and Shari probably did too.
So what the hell was she going to do? She felt very off balance having to think about coming up with a plan that fixed something that really wasn't her fault or responsibility. It would play right into Quest's hands, for one thing.
For another thing...
"Dar?" Kerry lowered her voice. "Do you think Dad would know someone who could fix this?"
Ah. Then again, there was a reason beyond the obvious Kerry was where she was. "Tell you what," Dar said. "You call and ask him, and I'll keep these guys busy. Okay?"
"Got it." Kerry gave her a pat on the side and escaped, angling away from the oncoming crowd toward the terminal. Despite the suspicions that had suddenly erupted in her mind, she focused on this new plan anyway. If it turned out to be what she'd thought...
Well, they'd look good, at any rate.
THE OFFICE WAS a definite refuge. Kerry slowly moved the cell phone around in a circle as she waited for Andrew to call her back. It was quiet in the room; she'd shut the door for some privacy, and the only sound was the hum of the computers and the cycling of the central air.
She wondered how Dar was getting on out there with the press and their adversaries. Dar could easily handle anything this lot was likely to throw at her, but Kerry was bothered by a sense that both she and her partner were missing out on one major clue in this whole crazy scene.
A soft chime caught her attention, and she swiveled around to review the screen on the PC next to her. Her mail inbox was up, and a new message was blinking placidly on the top line. Kerry clicked on it, seeing the name of their chief of security in the send column.
Inside, she found a terse recap of the breach from the other night that had allowed the army woman to gain access to their systems. Kerry reviewed it, decided there was nothing new there she didn't know, then clicked on the attachment.
Another standard process, current background checks on the cleaning staff, the cleaning supervisor, and last but not least, their invasive little friend.
Curious, Kerry opened the last one and reviewed it. After a moment, she leaned forward and stared at the screen, her brow creasing over her fair eyebrows. "What the..." She read the first section again, and then went back up to make sure the name on the report was right.
She had expected the report to outline the woman's military background, of course. They wouldn't pull any records besides that from the government, but that would be there, plus any outstanding police activity.
But this report didn't show a
nything of the kind. There was no mention of the military at all. Kerry sat back. "Well, I know she's on the creepy side of the service, but sheesh." She gazed in puzzlement at the report. According to what she was looking at, the woman was no more an Army officer than Kerry was.
In fact, it was hard to say what she was, aside from the fact that she'd gone to college for drama.
Drama?
Kerry scrolled down the report to where it listed clubs and affiliations. Thespians and Kiwanis. Could the security department have made a mistake? She scrolled back up and looked at the photograph pulled from the woman's driver's license record, and compared it to the shot they'd taken that night.
Well, given the usual horrendous nature of government photos, it was the same woman. So, was her military career just completely obscured by its secretive nature, or...
Or was it much simpler. Kerry clicked on the mail and forwarded it, typing in an address and a short, but very polite request. She sent it on its way and closed the attachment. "Let's see where that gets us," she decided, and then on a whim, opened another new message, this time to the security chief. "And, while we're at it, let's check out her boss."
She sent that request as well, and then settled back in her seat, moderately satisfied. "Something stinks like a three day dead mackerel here and darned if I'm not going to find out what it is."
DAR AND MICHELLE sat on the steps of the terminal while the filming crew waited in the shade nearby. "So." Dar examined her kneecap. "What can I do for you?"
"Decided on civility for a change?" Michelle asked.
Dar chuckled mildly. "You come over here to ask me for something, and start off by insulting me. Ever consider maybe that's why you never get anywhere?"
Michelle sighed. "You bring out the bitch in me, Dar. What can I say?" she said. "You bring out the bitch in everyone."
"Not everyone."
"Ah, that's right." Michelle shifted and extended her short legs, crossing them at the ankle. She'd finally given up on the power suits, and was wearing crisply pressed black chinos that were sadly covered in dust and pier grime. "Your little missus. How could I forget? You do know everyone thinks she's just a pretty ornament of yours."
Dar realized Michelle was trying to piss her off. She wasn't sure exactly why, but she was determined not to let her succeed. It wasn't easy, however. "Yeah, most people do think that," she agreed. "Until they either get slam dunked by her or she saves their ass."
"Mmph." Michelle grunted.
Dar waited a moment more, then retrieved a weed from between the cracks in the cement slabs and plucked its leaves contentedly. "So, let me ask again. What do you want?"
"I want to make a deal."
"Call Monty Hall. Maybe he'll let you squeeze by without a candle up your ass," Dar suggested. "Michelle, no deals. We're down to the last day of this damn charade... just let it play out."
Michelle appeared to consider this. She circled her knee with both arms and gazed out across the dusty parking lot. "I can't just let it play out. I'm not going to be able to finish this thing without help. Your help."
"My help?" Dar's voice rose incredulously.
Michelle sighed. "It's a bitch being so damn wonderful, isn't it?"
"What in the hell do you need my help for?"
Michelle half turned, her expression acknowledging the irony of the situation. "We can't get that damn satellite working. The idiots who installed it have been at it for four days, and they're just clueless. Their bosses are clueless. The people on the other end of the satellite are clueless. It just won't work."
Dar's eyebrows crawled up her forehead to lodge somewhere near her hairline. "And you think I can make it work?" she asked, with a slight chuckle.
"Yup. I do." Michelle confirmed. "You got yours going. No one else has gotten that far yet."
"No one?" Dar looked around the port, at the stolidly perched ships around it. "You're kidding me."
"Nope. We had a big meeting last night. Don't ask me why anyone thought it would be a good idea to get forty people who really disliked each other, and who'd been sitting in the hot sun all day in a room without gags, but we did." Michelle reported. "With the cameras. Could only have been better television if you'd been there, trust me."
Dar scratched her ear, momentarily at a loss. "Okay." She let her hand rest on her knee. "So, you want me to come fix your satellite, so you can..."
"Finish. Beat you. Leave. Get the hell out of this mud bowl. Yes." Michelle nodded. "Don't worry. You'll get full credit for it with the TV people. Starring role, they'll get you on camera saving our asses. Great stuff."
Dar got up and dusted her legs off. She was aware of the close scrutiny of the television people, and she suspected she was being filmed by the busy cameraman.
"C'mon Dar. I know there's an innate sense of fairness in there somewhere." Michelle also got up. "You know this has been the worst of the worst. You know you can't beat our pricing because whatever it takes to get this bid, I'll do it. You can lowball me, but everyone's gonna know you did, because we all know how much it cost you to pull off that stunt yesterday, and all the rest of the bull crap this whole week. At least you come out of it with great press for being the hero. What do you say?"
"What do I say?" Dar repeated. A motion caught her attention, and she looked up to see Kerry exiting from the terminal, pausing, spotting her, and breaking into a jog in their direction. Something about her expression made Dar wait, and as she came closer she could see those green eyes snapping with indignation. "Uh oh."
"Uh oh?" Michelle looked up at her, puzzled, then she realized what Dar was staring at. She got up just as Kerry reached them. "Ah."
"Those piece of shit mother pluckers." Kerry stated as she came to a halt.
Dar blinked. "Um."
Kerry turned and pointed at the television crew. "It's all been a fake, Dar."
"What?" Dar and Michelle both spoke at once.
"We're in a bloody twisted farce of Candid Camera," Kerry said. "It's all the television people. They're behind it. They're paying Quest off big time and that guy from the Army? He's an actor!"
"What?"
"He's an actor, Dar. So is that crazy woman I found in your office," Kerry said. "I just got a note from Gerry Easton. He checked them out for me. They're no more Army officers than Chino."
Dar put a hand on Kerry's shoulder. She could feel her partner's entire body shaking with outrage. "Are you saying this whole damn thing was staged?"
"Yes," Kerry said. "That's exactly what I'm saying. Those people were hired to break into our office and make a scene, Dar. That's why they didn't really know what went on there, and they couldn't explain what they were after."
Dar appeared thoughtful. "Huh."
Michelle grabbed her head with both hands. "Wait. Wait. Wait. This is nuts," she said. "This bid is real, those freaking ships are real--c'mon now, Kerry."
Something clicked. "No." Dar put her hands on her hips. "It's not nuts. It explains a lot."
Michelle was still holding her head. "Well, maestro, then explain it to me, because I just don't get any of this at all."
Dar made a decision. She tapped Michelle on the shoulder. "C'mon," she said. "Let's go back into our office here, and have a chat. In private." She turned and headed back for the terminal, a still bristling Kerry at her side.
After a moment, Michelle followed, catching up to them on the steps and not looking back at the cameras even once.
"OKAY, SHOW ME." Dar circled Kerry's desk chair and perched on the edge of the desk itself. "I've been kicking myself trying to figure out why nothing's been adding up."
Michelle took a seat at the next desk and watched attentively.
"Here." Kerry clicked on her mail, then got up and got out of Dar's way as she slid into the mildly squeaking chair. She traded places, perching on the desk as her partner moved the mouse impatiently, scrolling through the long, and somewhat detailed messages. "Bloody little pissant buggers."
 
; Michelle snorted softly. "You Midwestern repressed types."
"I got over that," Kerry replied, folding her arms over her chest. "I can't believe this crap. Didn't you pick up on the slimy fakeness? You guys have been in bed with those camera people for weeks."
"Damn." Dar shook her head.
"Well." Michelle crossed one leg over the other. "You know, Dar. I didn't really expect to find out that you're the nice one of your little partnership."
"Toldja." Dar muttered.
"Told her what?" Kerry asked. "Look, I'm sorry. It's been a lousy month, and a lousy week, and a lousy day. Finding this out at the end of it just sucks."
Dar reached over and patted Kerry's thigh. "Easy, Ker."
"Okay, so let me get this straight." Michelle changed course. "You're telling me that you think this whole deal is one big made for television melodrama?" Her tone was incredulous. "You do realize how insane that sounds, right?'
Dar sent the mail to the printer. "Yeah." She turned and leaned back. "Problem is Ker's right. That Army captain who was hanging out with you all this morning's a fake. Got his security records right here."
"What was he doing here this morning?" Kerry suddenly asked.
Michelle drummed her fingers on the chair arm, the nails clattering softly against the padding. "He said he was evaluating the technology we were all using, on behalf of the government," she admitted. "Sounded like something the military might do. After all, we all are pretty high tech."
Dar snorted.
Michelle got up and peered over her shoulder. "Pardon me for being nosy."
Dar handed her the sheet from the printer. "Don't strain your eyes. Here."
"I have a headache." Kerry sighed. "Dar, I'm going to get a soda. You want?"
"Sure."
Kerry slid between the chairs and headed for the door, fishing coins from her front pocket as she left. Dar rummaged around in her mailbox for a few minutes, leaving Michelle to read the report in peace. She read Gerry's answer, hearing her old friend's gruff voice quite clearly in the words and reflecting that Gerry really had handled her coming out to him a lot better than she'd anticipated.