Desperate Measures

by Michael Anderle

  “Probably not.” Alina wrinkled her nose in disgust. “He had neural implants, and his genome had been modified. I suspect our good doctor was more unstable from that than his bosses knew.” She shook her head. “But you’re right. It does seem like they’re being flashier, but also making more mistakes.”

  “What about those yaoguai? More alien hybrids?”

  “I’ll spare you the technobabble, but from what we can tell, they were all derived from terrestrial species and DNA. No weird Leem DNA or other alien garbage. Pure Earth monsters.”

  Jia scoffed, irritation wrinkling her forehead. “I don’t feel better about monsters because they’re a hundred percent Earth DNA.”

  Alina locked eyes with Jia, her expression serious. “I feel better knowing they weren’t breeding Hunter- or Navigator-derived monsters there. We both know you could have fought things a lot more dangerous than what was there.”

  “Who cares?” Erik interrupted. “They had monsters. We killed monsters. Now they don’t have a monster factory, end of story. It’s only important if it leads to more targets. Beating the conspiracy is easy. Find them, kill them, repeat.”

  “True enough,” Alina replied softly. “And being able to confirm Vincke’s identity has already paid dividends. Combined with what we learned from that facility and an unrelated raid that netted us a lower-level operator we can indirectly link to the conspiracy, we’ve established some important facts beyond a shadow of a doubt.” She raised a single finger. “Fact one, Ceres Galactic is thoroughly infested at the highest levels by the conspiracy.”

  Jia sighed in disappointment. “We already knew that.”

  Alina raised a second finger. “Fact two, Hermes is also thoroughly infested by the conspiracy, as is Stella Infinitas.”

  “In other words, we should probably assume they effectively control every Hexagon corporation.” Jia rubbed her temples. “And the economy of the UTC.”

  “Or at least they have a major influence. That explains how they’re able to get the kind of resources they need to perform the experiments and build the cyborgs they’ve been using. Among other things, that suggests a war of attrition might take a lot longer than we would like. We’ll have to target their leadership to be more effective.”

  Erik frowned. “Do you know who is working for them at those companies? We can work our way up.”

  “Not specifically,” Alina replied. “We’re working on some leads, but we’re going to have to proceed carefully. Although there’s no way this goes down without at least partial disruption to the UTC, our long-term plan is to collect the evidence and work closely with trusted allies in the CID for massive, simultaneous raids when the time comes. We will destroy their power base and take out the leadership, and then it’ll just be a matter of mopping up what’s left.”

  “Great. When are the raids?” Erik asked.

  Alina’s pitying look angered him. Erik knew what she was going to say next. Success bred impatience.

  “We’re nowhere near that ready,” Alina explained. “If everything goes well, maybe we can pull this off in the next year or two, but we can’t screw it up by running off half-cocked. The important thing is we need to keep working on bleeding them. It won’t finish them off, but it’ll at least keep them on defense.”

  Jia folded her arms. “It’ll be difficult to do much while the ID has a leak. It’s bad enough that you’re saying the conspiracy effectively controls the pillars of our economy. If the government can’t do anything without them hearing about it, there’s only so much we can do, even with a jump drive.”

  “Ah. Yes.” Alina’s smile took on a hint of condescension. “We caught the leak, an analyst. Smart guy, but he had a hidden gambling problem. They took advantage of the problem.”

  Erik didn’t know if that meant they’d killed him. He also wasn’t sure he cared. Selling information to the conspiracy was aiding treason and mass terrorism.

  “There’s not much follow-up possible because they were careful with him,” Alina continued, “but at least we don’t have to constrain our ops now. That was why we performed the other raid I mentioned.”

  “Okay.” Erik took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to rid his body of the nervous energy that demanded they fly around Neo SoCal looking for anyone working for the conspiracy. “Where does this leave us?”

  “On standby.” Alina pointed to the ceiling. “We’re still looking into things, but the preliminary info we’re getting suggests we might need someone who can move freely and quickly in space.”

  “No deployable missile launcher add-ons anytime soon.”

  “Exactly. I’m glad you understand.” Alina stood and tugged her dress down. “I hate to make you two wait, but at the same time, combined with Emma, you’re the best weapon we have.”

  Erik nodded. “Then keep firing us until the target is dead.”

  “I will as soon as we have a target.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  A woman’s familiar voice invaded Jia’s dream.

  “It’s an obvious throwaway address.”

  Not just familiar. Emma. But why was the AI in Jia’s dream?

  “That doesn’t mean anything more than they’re careful,” Erik replied.

  His presence in a dream wasn’t unusual. When he shifted on the bed next to her, she realized she wasn’t dreaming.

  Jia blinked her eyes open, the blurriness from her long, deep sleep making it difficult to see. Her entire life, she had been getting up early, but she never could claim to be a morning person. She rubbed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths to clear her head.

  Emma’s hologram stood next to the bed and Erik was sitting up, wearing nothing but his boxers from the night before. She wanted to throw a pillow at Emma for bothering them in bed.

  “You don’t think it’s a trap?” Emma asked.

  “It’s interesting timing,” Erik replied. “And you know how I feel about coincidences. It could be a trap, but I’m not going to ignore it because of that possibility.”

  Jia yawned. “What’s going on? What trap are you talking about?”

  Emma turned to Jia. “Erik received a suspicious message from a throwaway address. Someone wants to meet you both at a modestly priced diner for breakfast and a discussion.”

  “Quantum-coded signal?” Jia asked. “Is this from Colonel Adeyemi or Alina? You think they’re in trouble?”

  Emma shook her head. “No, it’s a thoroughly conventional message, and I doubt either of them would request help in such a roundabout matter. I would hack the system that sent it, but it’s so obviously a throwaway that I’m dubious it would accomplish much, given the time constraints prior to the meeting, and it might draw unnecessary attention or sanctions. Until we know more about the situation, I think that would only make our situation more tenuous.”

  “Not disagreeing, but what’s so suspicious about this message?”

  “Who sends me a message asking about brunch?” Erik asked, his face twisted in disgust as if brunch was as disturbing as the conspiracy. “It has this weird final line saying, ‘I do so love flower shops on the moon. This is offered in good faith, but my patience only extends so far.’”

  Jia furrowed her brow, thinking about flower shops on the moon. That was a rather odd and specific phrase, and it invoked a strong memory. Not every loose end was always accounted for after their missions.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Marius Barbu. It has to be him. If not him, then somebody who knows about him, but I’m assuming it’s him.”

  “The fixer from Chang’e City?” Erik looked down in surprise. “Huh. That would explain the weird message, but why would that guy want to come anywhere near us? From what we know, he helped those terrorists arm up. They were shooting at us with weapons he sold.”

  “We don’t have a lot of time if we want to get someone else involved,” Jia commented. She slid out of bed and stood. “And we can’t let this go. Our best chance would be asking the NSCPD, but I’d rathe
r not get them involved in anything that might be related to the conspiracy.”

  “You think this is a conspiracy thing?” Erik stood and headed toward his closet. Once there, he grabbed some pants.

  “Alina said those terrorists on the moon were linked to the conspiracy.” Jia shrugged. “And we took down another conspiracy base. They might have been doing it to get at us, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re on the move, and people in the underworld are going to have a better chance of noticing than the average person.”

  “Oh. You’re saying he wants to switch sides? We’re scaring him straight?”

  “It’s a possibility, or at a minimum, he doesn’t want us busting into his mansion with exoskeletons and rocket launchers to drag him off to some ID black ops interrogation site.” Jia jogged over to the closet, marveling that she had so many outfits at Erik’s place, and he had so few. “It might also explain why he wants to talk to us. With everything’s that going on, the government can’t be totally trusted, including the ID.”

  Erik shoved one leg into his pants. “We’re doing this, then? We’re heading toward a meeting with a fixer asshole who supplied terrorists?”

  “We can’t always wait around for Alina to point us at the conspiracy.” Jia snatched her pants from a hanger. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “He kills us both.”

  “At brunch? I hope not.” Jia scoffed. “Assassination feels more like a dinner thing to me.”

  Erik and Jia headed toward the diner, both scanning the area for anyone or anything out of the ordinary. Modest flitters filled the parking platform. The only one that stood out was Erik’s MX 60. A man smiled approvingly at it on his way to his vehicle.

  The pair walked at a slow pace.

  They wanted to give Emma plenty of time to prepare. If they were stepping into a trap, they could survive it as long as they had superior control of the area, including surveillance and doors. While the AI didn’t have trouble initiating the necessary hacks, it was difficult to have drones everywhere and not be totally obvious. She’d already hacked the cameras inside the diner and had views of most of the building.

  She sent an image of a brown-suited elderly man sitting in a corner booth. A red highlight drew Jia’s attention to a rather thin silver rod half-hanging out of his pocket. The only resemblance to the eyepatch-wearing lunar fixer was his age and lack of hair.

  “Any evidence he’s using a holographic disguise?” Erik asked.

  “No,” Emma replied. “It could be a lack of movement, but if that is our friend, I doubt there are any holographic tricks involved.”

  “He’s not trying to be subtle,” Jia muttered. “Is it just me, or does that look like a privacy device in his pocket?”

  “Most people don’t know what they are. It’s not that big a gamble.” Erik shrugged before reaching inside his jacket to check for his weapon.

  Both Erik and Jia were armed, the latter with her standard combination of slugthrower and stun pistol. They’d parked the MX 60 close to the diner in case they needed to go back for heavier weapons or explosives.

  Jia didn’t need to check for her gun. She knew both were there. The last thing she wanted was a shootout in a crowded restaurant, and she hoped the presence of so many witnesses would discourage anyone from trying anything outrageous.

  Even if they didn’t care about their lives, all those people wore PNIUs that could be collected for evidence.

  “There is no unusual activity around the area,” Emma reported. “There is an increase in flitter traffic relative to the averages for the day, but nothing out of the ordinary for this specific time of day. The transponder signals for all flitters parked or flying near this area correspond with the public registry records. There are also no unusual sensor readings other than those expected of a privacy device, nor any signals or energy or chemical signatures that might be associated with explosives.”

  “Is it that simple?” Jia asked. “He just wants to talk?”

  “There are more direct ways to kill people.” Erik opened the front door. “Our boy wants to talk, so we’ll talk. Emma can still use the PNIU to keep an eye on the immediate area, even under jamming, and she’ll let us know if he’s suddenly teleported in a gun with unknown Hunter tech.”

  “Don’t even joke about that.” Jia shivered. She wanted to take care of all their human enemies before they needed to worry about aliens, and then she’d rather go through something more reasonable like a space raptor first.

  Jia stepped through the door and waved off an approaching hostess to head straight toward the suspect’s table. She didn’t want to be rude, but she also didn’t want to risk taking her attention off the man in those initial critical seconds. Her hands stayed near her sides. There was no point in escalating things unless he tried something.

  They could have a nice conversation, or he would understand that Erik and Jia had earned their reputation.

  The pair arrived at the man’s table, and the sounds from the rest of the diner died. She’d grown too used to privacy devices for the eerie silence to unsettle her anymore. The man motioned to the booth seat opposite his with a smile.

  “I’m glad you chose to come,” the man greeted them, his voice raspy, “Mr. Blackwell and Ms. Lin. I wasn’t sure you would take me up on my invitation, and I don’t blame you if you’re skeptical. I would be if I were in your position.”

  If they’d not been convinced it was Barbu before, the raspy voice and wheeze confirmed it.

  Jia took a seat, keeping her hands above the table and close to her jacket. Barbu didn’t appear to notice or care.

  Erik sat down and stared at the man. “You got our attention, old man. I’m surprised. It was kind of a blunt way of doing it.”

  Barbu shrugged lightly. “The problem with people today is they think that the best way to do something is the most modern and baroque.”

  “And how did you know we wouldn’t flood this diner with CID agents?”

  “Because you have to have realized there was no way I wouldn’t have noticed them coming.” Barbu wheezed. “Besides, we all know you have concerns at higher levels than mere law enforcement, and I think in this case, I can be of service to my fellow man.”

  Jia eyed him. “You’re a criminal who sold weapons to terrorists. You call that service to your fellow man? Even if you didn’t know what they intended to do with them, that doesn’t change the fact you armed them, knowing they were going to hurt people. More service?”

  “Selling someone something they need is the definition of service, Ms. Lin.” Barbu punctuated his sentence with a wheezing laugh. “My sales were irrelevant, given you were able to handle them.”

  “I can’t believe this.” Jia clenched her hands into fists. “You’re sitting here admitting it. We could stun your ass, call the local PD, and have them hand you over to the CID.”

  “You could.” Barbu took a deep breath. “But it’d be ill-advised. I’ve taken measures to assure my protection, but the real problem would be your loss of me as a resource.”

  “They could make you talk.”

  “No, they really couldn’t. Besides, you should welcome my aid. Events I’ve become aware of since the unpleasantness on the moon have made me aware that I wish to do my part for the UTC.”

  Erik looked the man up and down. “Do your part for the UTC?”

  “Yes, Mr. Blackwell.” Barbu looked mildly insulted. “Is that so absurd to believe?”

  “You don’t strike me as the altruistic type. Most arms dealers aren’t, Barbu. I’m guessing you’re a lot more than an arms dealer.”

  Barbu stroked his chin, then lowered his hand. “No, I’m not the altruistic type. But is it altruism when you help others to ensure your customer base isn’t disrupted? Most businessmen would call that common sense.”

  “Is that what this is?” Jia asked. “You’re worried about not being able to sell weapons to other terrorists, so you think you can give us a couple of tidbits, and we
’ll recommend the CID let you walk? I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.”

  “No, that would be foolish, and not a good bargain for you.” Barbu folded his hands in front of him. “I could explain why I was involved in what happened on the moon, but you have no reason to believe me, and it doesn’t matter. I have something that might be of use to you, and I offer it with no other conditions than you let me leave this place.”

  “Why should we trust you?” Erik smirked. “Trust is earned, not automatically given, especially to a scumbag arms dealer.”

  “Scumbag?” Erik thought Barbu’s brow lifted, but it was hard to tell with all the other wrinkles. “That is not an accurate description of me, but we'll set that aside for the moment and concentrate on the matter at hand.”

  “Which is what?” Jia asked. Her heart pounded with the desire to pull out her stun pistol and demand the man’s surrender. “You’re the one who called us here. Get to the point and stop playing games with us, old man.”

  “I hear things,” Barbu wheezed. He put a hand to his mouth and coughed. “Rumors about you and stories about what happened on the moon and the people ultimately responsible, so I’ve looked into things. It’s unwise to be involved in the business I’m in without a rather thorough understanding of the political situation, both in the underworld and outside it.”

  “We’re dealing with powerful people, more powerful than you’re used to dealing with,” Erik explained. “This isn’t about random syndicates and insurrectionists playing around.”

  “Powerful people? Is that so?” Barbu shook his head lightly. “Power is relative, Mr. Blackwell. There is no one alive who is immortal, and if someone isn’t immortal, they can be stopped—in the worst-case scenario, by killing them.”

  “True enough.”

  Barbu smiled. “I’m now going to reach into my pocket for a data rod. It might contain information you want, or it might not, depending on your particular interests. I’ll be honest. I’m not sure you two are who I suspect, but if you are, you’ll find the information on the rod useful against your enemies, those powerful people you seem so afraid of.”