Chapter 24 #2
“Sorry, bad news. A little fish just saw your reservist forcibly picked up by five of Wutala’s crew, including their security chief, Tycall. They knew just how to package him. They’re airborne for the spaceport.”
Arco barely had time to drag in a breath before the name Wutala set her finder sense ablaze.
She’d already pegged the crew for their business relationship with the CPS.
A surprising number of ex-CPS contractors had last been seen with Wutala crew right before they unexpectedly died in seemingly unrelated ways.
If the CPS had seen vids of Brenner’s takedown of the spider mech, they’d want a long private talk with him. And if the CPS wanted plausible deniability, what better crew than Wutala to send after a dangerously powerful minder?
Arco touched her earwire to speak to her team. “Brenner’s caught in a barbed net. I’m going to do a deep dive, but I can’t stay in stealth mode. You’ll have to watch my back.”
“Copy,” replied Minan, who was sitting across the long aisle from Arco. “Tōn Ko, come talk to Nilsson like you know her from work. Shield Arco first, Nilsson if you can.”
“Shield Nilsson and Minan instead,” said Arco. “I still have shields from earlier.” She’d implied she had them applied by one of Tapio’s security. She hadn’t yet worked out a better cover story for her permanent, and as yet, untested shields.
Minan cast her a quick, speculative glance but didn’t argue. “We’ll get your attention for our exit.”
“Thanks.” Arco pulled out her tablet and unfolded it, grateful to have friends. “You’re all rehired.”
A rapid memory scan of all she knew about Wutala told her she had one slim chance to negotiate.
A flurry of contacts and called-in favors netted her the private pingref of the chief herself.
Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly, concentrating on releasing her tight-as-a-drum neck and back muscles. Doing business with a shark—
The end of a scarf hit her in the face.
“Sorry ‘bout that.” N’Dwama was now standing in front of Arco. “Got away from me.” She wrapped the scarf up and over her head. “Better’n nothin’ in this snow, right?”
Arco nodded and noticed the train was slowing.
She folded her tablet and stuffed it into her pocket, then stood and moved closer to the doors.
Only she and her team got off and stepped into the ankle-deep snow that had worked its way into the uninsulated passenger shelter.
Not ideal if someone knew who to look for, but good for her purposes now, since they had the shelter to themselves.
Arco moved to the back corner, away from the noisy bot straining to push the snow out, then used her earwire to talk to her team.
“Wutala crew jammed Brenner. I’m about to make them an offer.
If they bite, the exchange will be at the spaceport.
That’s beyond what you signed on for, so feel free to exit, no questions asked. ”
“How many Wutala?” asked Minan.
“I don’t know. It took five to snare him.”
“I’m in,” said N’Dwama. “Brenner doesn’t care that I’m a minder. If you can influence the exchange point, pick the southeast rent-a-pads. Harder to ambush in the wide open. Especially in the snow.”
“I’m in, too,” said Minan.
Nilsson and Tōn Ko echoed her words.
“I owe you all.” Arco closed her eyes. She needed to be Arco Charrascos, the confident professional journalist, not Arco the desperate, terrified woman who was embarrassingly near tears.
After a long moment, she made the call. Once she proved her identity and dangled her baited hook at two screeners, Gezi Wutala herself answered. “I’m listening.”
Arco left her secure connection open so her team could listen in.
“An hour ago, your crew picked up my employee in the Canals. I want him back. I offer trade. Information and evidence on who used the raids a few ten-days ago to destroy both your blackmarket labs, kill your people, and injure your subchief, Khenzan.” She paused a moment.
“If my employee is in good shape when he’s returned, I will also give you names and likely locations of the specific people involved. ”
“One moment, please.”
“If it helps to know, the person I want is being handled by Tycall, your new security chief.” Arco hoped her own subvocalized voice sounded as calm as Wutala’s.
“You are as well informed as I would expect of someone with your reputation. However, as much as I would like to know who my enemy is, I must decline the deal. Losing a good customer’s confidence would be bad for business. Would you consider anoth—”
Arco interrupted. “What if your enemy and your customer are one and the same?” She held her breath and counted seconds that felt like minutes.
“I’m listening.” Wutala’s tone sounded more focused.
Arco shook her head. “That’s all you get for free. I’ll give you everything — names, dates, source data — once you deliver my package, undamaged, at the spaceport.”
“One moment while we check the status. In the meantime, you might be interested to know that your package reminds me of a young enforcer named Sparks I once knew decades ago. Who is he to you?”
She wished she knew. Hopes and dreams were a galaxy away from reality. She’d abandoned him when he needed her most. He might never trust her again. Finally, she chose an answer she thought Wutala would understand. “I’m paying a debt.”
“Ah. My terms, then. Be at the office for auto-launch pad YQM-712 in ninety minutes. If your information is satisfactory, the package will be delivered. If your information is not as promised, things will not go well for you. Do I make myself crystal clear?”
“Yes,” replied Arco. Following her instincts, she added, “We look forward to meeting you.” She disconnected, then slumped against the wall.
Doubts flooded her, sapping her strength. She was no high-stakes negotiator or military strategic genius. So many things could go wrong. Her friends could get hurt because of her. Worst of all, she could cost Brenner his life.
Nilsson stepped closer, pulling off her fluffy hood as she did so. “You really think Wutala will be there?”
“Maybe.” Arco unwrapped her own scarf and held it out to Nilsson. “It’s her habit, but with this weather...”
Nilsson took Arco’s scarf and handed her the hood. “You’re very sharp. We’ll be okay.”
“Gaia, I hope so.” She appreciated Nilsson’s kind reassurance, though it didn’t alleviate Arco’s worries.
Nilsson lowered her voice. “You don’t have to answer, but are you a Naturalist?”
Arco had trained herself to deflect all personal questions, since enemies would be happy to deep-dive her past to look for vulnerabilities or leverage. But it felt rude to shut out someone who was protecting her. She twitched a smile. “Raised that way, at least.”
“Me, too. Original Orthodox. Gaia is life, tech is death, all that.” She shoved Arco’s scarf in the pocket of her long coat and stuffed her opalescent hair under Tōn Ko’s visored cap.
“My late-blooming healer talent caused a crisis of faith in the enclave. I was invited to seek Gaia’s blessings anywhere but there. ”
From her bleak look and the loneliness lurking behind the words, Arco suspected Nilsson didn’t often tell that story. Arco knew the feeling.
“That had to tank. My parents were New Worlds Reformed. They had to choose between the community covenants or getting life-saving medical treatment for me.” And that had been just the stinking top layer of the whole sordid sinkhole.
Nilsson’s expression warmed with sympathy. “How old—”
Arco’s earwire sounded with Minan’s tone. “Skytrain AI says our ride is one minute out. Nilsson, stick with Arco. The rest of us are strangers.”
Arco shoved her butt off the wall and turned the hood inside out, then pulled it on over her head, making sure to poke any stray locks of hair up and under it. She’d corralled the rest in a sloppy braid that made an itchy lump down her neck and back.
Nilsson’s demeanor was back to professional mode, stance loose, eyes scanning for trouble.
Moments later, the skytrain’s car glided to a halt and opened its doors.
It took her a moment to realize the car was empty except for the five of them.
At Arco’s questioning look, Minan smiled rakishly.
“I took a chance that Ridderth hasn’t purged its TCS hypercube in decades and tried an old military code sequence.
The AI now thinks this is a nonstop car for military echelon security.
Unless someone manually overrides it, we should be at the spaceport in forty minutes. ”
Arco flashed a brief grateful smile at Minan, then went back to her tablet. She needed to corral every scrap of information she could glean on Wutala’s enemies if she was going to pull this off.