Chapter #16The Pursuit of People Who Don't Exist by: Seuzz   Hal's probably right: You're the professional infiltrator, and you only need to steer Anderson and Conniff from the backseat, not replace one of them. As for the "bait and switch" Hal has in mind: "OIC's already got places to look," you say. "You know anything about Fane and the Republic of Cabinda?"
"Pocket republic down in Africa, right?" He furrows his eyebrows but says nothing further.
"What about Fairview, Colorado?" Hal shakes his head. "Saratoga Falls? Or NATO?" Hal continues to look blank, but Frank shoots you a sharp look at the name of your home town. "What about IMS?"
Hal's expression lights up. "We got a hit?"
"You knew about them?"
"Sure. That's why I--" And then he grins, looking embarrassed.
You feel your face blacken. "That's why you what? Put Kali onto them?"
"They were looking for an architect, she was available, I wanted to see if she shook something loose."
"Kali hasn't done field work since--"
"She's not doing it now," he retorts. "Totally safe for her. I figured--"
"I know how you figure. Catilindrian geometry," you growl. "That's how this mess got started." You tell him about accidentally getting caught in the bathroom.
He just grins back in that infuriating way of his. "I love it when a trick shot comes off. So these OIC fellows were also interested in IMS."
"It's another one of the patterns. Gimme a thumb drive, and I'll copy you the files."
"I'd wanna look at the PC first before giving you a drive. Some are set up to detect monkey business through a port. Is any of this info on a server?"
"Sure, and I can log in to--"
"Then give me an email address. I'll shoot you a note with some clever malware of my own design that can get me in."
"I also need you to do something with Koudelka's phone." You take out the cell and explain the situation: All texts and calls get copied onto OIC machines for review, and you need a way to call your Stellae partners without being caught. Hal hunches over the phone for a good long while, flicking between screens and checking settings. Eventually he takes out his own phone, connects it to Taylor's with a wire, and does some of his magical tech hacking on it. "Fifth rate stuff," he snorts. "Probably programmed back in the days of Univac. So here's what you do." He moves next to you, so you can see the screen on Taylor's phone. "Wanna talk to me and Frank, send a text to Tom and Rose Koudelka. Subject line 'Hal.' Body? First sentence, ending with full stop, something boring for the folks. Then send whatever you want."
"What'll OIC see?"
"That first sentence, heading for mater and pater. But it'll redirect the email, full text, to me and Frank."
"What about messages from you?"
"Same thing in reverse. Check for spam from a swan breeder." He grins. "Click on the link. Only connections from Koudelka's number will go through to the message. Anyone else will just get a web page. I'll set it up tonight."
You and your partners talk a little more, and then you return to your "stakeout." As you slide into the car, your hand touches something: Oliver's cell phone. You curse him for being so fumble-fingered, then realize it's an opportunity. You take the phone back in to Hal and have him rig it up the same as he rigged up Taylor's phone, so that you can use Oliver's if it becomes necessary.
* * * * *
You lapse into a hazy, meditative state in the car, letting Sulva beguile you. At around midnight the Marta-golem appears and goes into the house. Though you want to hear its report from the meeting with Kali, you know better than to break character: Conniff, pursuing the suspect, should be appearing soon.
But she doesn't. After thirty minutes of increasingly anxious waiting, you take out your phone to call her. But then you put it back and fumble for Oliver's cell; it'll get him in trouble if Conniff sees that you're calling from his phone rather than your own. "It's me," you say when she picks up. "Guess where I'm calling from."
"You better be calling from where you're supposed to be," she snaps back.
"I am. Just not from a phone that's where it's supposed to be." She says nothing in reply. "Where are you? Marta Hardesty just showed up at her place."
"Just follow procedure," she says.
"I am. But where are you?"
"Leeds. Something came up, and I don't have time to explain."
"Well, excuse me for--"
The line goes dead. You stare down at the screen, and your own reaction mirrors what Taylor would feel: befuddlement and exasperation. You toss the cell aside, and sink back into meditation.
* * * * *
The morning light is dim and gray when Oliver's phone rings again. "I'm still out in front of the Hardesty's," you say, pretending to stifle a yawn. "And I'm still answering with--"
"Shut up and stand down," Conniff interrupts. "I'm going in with another team."
"What the--? What other team?"
"Do as you're told."
"I want an explanation, Conniff," you insist. "You don't just throw me aside like--"
"She's the shapeshifter. I saw her do a transformation. I picked up additional support and I'm going in to take her. I don't need you there, messing anything up." You're too stunned to speak, and then Conniff hangs up.
Definitely fucked up, you think to yourself. Golems can't change faces. Conniff is lying about that, and you're almost as certain she's lying about this other team: OIC does not have any kind of law enforcement powers, not in the US and definitely not in the UK, and it can't dragoon any.
Be that as it may, your first priority is to warn Frank and Hal. Your fingers fly over the phone: "Trying to get home for Christmas. Get out of the house asap cops on their way." But that won't do any good if they check messages too late. You hurriedly think through possibilities, then call Conniff back. "Thank me for being insubordinate, Conniff," you say. "No one's been into the house except the Hardestys, but two people I've never seen before have just walked out and are getting in their car. Where are you?"
"Miles away still," she says. "Can you follow them?"
"Not till you say 'Thanks'."
"Don't fuck with me."
"Fine, you'll owe me. They're heading north toward the university." You briefly describe a nonexistent car. "Aim for that Starbucks, I'll guide you from there."
You can hear her fuming in the background as you drive off in pursuit of phantoms. "Turning up Broad Street. There's a big white church way up on the left. Shit. I just got cut off."
"Don't lose them, Oliver."
"Not bloody likely," you retort, noting but ignoring the mistaken name. "We're turning, and-- Where are you?"
"High Street." You need to get Conniff alone, and that means everyone needs to dismount. "Targets are parking. Either they got business at Lloyds-- Ugh. They're heading up Cornmarket. Gonna have to abandon my wheels if I'm gonna--"
"Keep them in sight."
You ignore the horns as you leap out and sprint up the pedestrian walkway. Boswells, you decide. A department store is exactly where to "lose" your imaginary quarry. Conniff curses when you tell her. "Stay near the entrance and look for me," she says.
You oblige, but stand off a couple of yards just inside the entrance. Five minutes later Conniff appears, in the company of five burly guys in dark suits, the standard look for security personnel. Naturally, Conniff stands out.
She looks right at you and through you, until you step forward. She looks a little wary, until you speak. "I couldn't follow them close--"
"Tell me it's you, Oliver," she says. "Not a lookalike."
"It's me, Conniff. Not a bloody twat." That's twice she's called you the wrong name. As far as you know, she's not sustained a head injury, and she hasn't got a twin sister. "I can tell you who to look for, but if these guys--"
"Moore, Parker," she says to two of the goons with her. "Stay here with Oliver and search for the targets. I'm going to the Hardesty's." She turns.
"We should stick together," you say.
"Stick to your orders," she snaps, and is gone.
You glower after her, then turn to the others. "Come on. Never mind faces. We're looking for people in matching, charcoal gray tracksuits." Not a likely look in this place.
You make a quick sweep, then order your erstwhile partners to separate. You make a second sweep until you find the restrooms. You signal one of agents to come over. You point at the door, and motion him to be silent.
Quickly you push in to the restroom; the other follows. Once the door is closed, you wheel and grab his face. The sigil burns against his cheek, and you catch him as he falls. You wedge him against the door and quickly rip a copy of his memories away.
No time for a full immersion. You just need to find--
Your lips peel back into a rictus. George Moore is not with the police. He's with Fane.
As for Conniff--
That's not clear. Moore is with security in one of Fane's London-based offices, and all he knows is that he got orders very early this morning to go with the blonde-haired harridan and follow her orders exactly. What was Conniff doing in London?
You pull Moore into a stall and prop him up on the toilet seat. Best way to find out is by switching positions.
But you've only just got his shoes and jacket off when the cell phone in his pocket rings. You'll have to answer it. But as who? And what will you say?  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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