Rath's Gambit (The Janus Group Book 2) (21 page)

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to get through to her – no one’s answering her phone. I just sent two uniforms to her office to try to locate her.”

“Well, I hope this didn’t happen to her, too. The drone report needed two full pages to list all of his injuries.”

“Injuries were pre-mortem?” the detective asked.

The crime scene tech shrugged. “Medical examiner will confirm, but they look like it to me. Somebody started in on him this morning, and worked on the poor bastard for hours.”

“How’d we find the body?”

“The tarp has a hole in it. The blood pooled, and leaked through the ceiling of the apartment below. Landlord came upstairs, knocked on the door to investigate … and that’s her body out in the front hall. Killer finished the job in here, and left soon after.”

The detective took another cautious look into the bathroom, inhaling through clenched teeth. “What the fuck is wrong with humanity?”

“I know. I’m going to be having bad dreams about this one for years.”

* * *

The man sat in his parked car, waiting. His face and neck were covered in a compression bandage, fully masking his identity and lending him a menacing aspect. At the edges of the bandage, the smooth, pink flesh characteristic of burn scars was barely visible. After a minute, he watched a police cruiser pull up to the front of the Senate office building; two patrolmen made their way inside. He noted the time in his heads-up display, then activated his car’s speakerphone and dialed a number from memory.

“Identify.”

“Nine-seven-three-romeo-zero.”

“Stand by,” the robotic voice replied. “Identity confirmed. The line is encrypted, you may proceed.”

“I have an update for the director.” He waited while the operator connected him.

“Go ahead,” Director Nkosi ordered, when she picked up the line.

“I’m finished with the programmer.”

“And?”

“His story confirms what the lawyer told me. He deleted all back-ups of the program when he gave it to the lawyer. His home server activity log shows the same.”

“So he couldn’t identify the other two senators?” she asked.

“No. Just Lizelle.”

“That’s unfortunate. And Lizelle acquired the datascroll with the program from Yellen. The senator will have destroyed it already.”

“More than likely,” the burned man agreed. “The girlfriend might know, but she’s not at her office.”

“You’re there now?” the director asked.

“Yes. Her coworkers claim they haven’t seen her for several hours.”

“Did the programmer warn her somehow?”

“No. I made sure of that.” The man peered through the window of his car. “The police arrived a few minutes ago – they’re searching for her, too.”

“Then back off – we’ll soon have her location from our informant network.”

“As you say.”

“You have the programmer’s files and data drives?” the director inquired.

“Yes.”

“Bring them in, in case any of the data is recoverable … or he was lying.”

“He wasn’t lying,” the man assured her. “He learned that lesson early.”

“I’m sure,” she said. “Good work, 700.”

* * *

“Where’s Khyron?” Dasi asked again, panic creeping into her voice.

The senator pulled his hand from hers, and looked at the floor of the shuttle. “I’m sorry, Dasi. I didn’t know what they were planning, and when I found out, it was already too late.”

Dasi gripped the arm rests of her shuttle seat. “What do you mean, ‘too late’?”

“It was all I could do to convince them not to send someone after you, too,” he continued.

“Charl,” Dasi pleaded. “Tell me. Please.”

“They sent someone for Khyron this morning, after you came in to work,” Lizelle said, his voice quiet. “They killed him.”

Dasi sobbed, and covered her face in her hands. She was still crying when the shuttle docked at Anchorpoint’s transfer station. Lizelle stood up, and guided her gently to her feet. She shook him off, angrily. One of Lizelle’s bodyguards entered the passenger cabin.

“Just a minute,” Lizelle told him. “Dasi, I’m sorry. Please believe me, there was nothing I could do.”

She took a ragged breath, and faced the Senate Guard, ignoring Lizelle. “Let’s go,” she told him, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

The bodyguard walked her across the transfer station, where Dasi’s tear-streaked face earned some odd looks from other travelers. Finally, they passed through the passenger terminal and into the cargo hub. They came to a deserted loading bay, where a cargo ship was docked, its entrance hatch closed.

“Here?” Dasi asked, uncertain.

The bodyguard nodded. “That’s what I was told. Just put your hand on the scanner.”

Dasi placed her hand on the scanner, and the boarding hatch slid open. The boarding tube was lit with pulsing yellow arrows, split down the middle like a pair of fish-hooks, back to back. Dasi squared her shoulders and stepped into the cargo ship, following the arrows. 

22

Rath glanced down the corridor a final time, confirmed that the in-processing hall was empty, and then shut the bathroom door, locking it. He handed Paisen a set of civilian clothes from his backpack, then pulled out his own set. As she changed pants, he showed her a photo on his phone of the female employee he had kidnapped. She frowned, studying the picture, and then Rath saw her skin ripple, the plates shifting as she reconfigured them to match. He found it fascinating watching her face transform – he rarely got to see himself do it, let alone someone else.

She looked up at him, twisting her face from side to side so he could inspect it. “Good?” she asked.

Rath recalled the woman’s face from memory, studying the nuances of it in his mind’s eye, then comparing it to Paisen’s copy.

“A little softer on the chin – there, you got it.” He handed her a security badge. “You’re Wei Lin Xen, on staff for nearly three years. You supervise female inmates during in-processing and out-processing – but no inmates are scheduled to do either today. If anyone asks, we’ve just been catching up on paperwork and mandated online training. You actually called in sick yesterday and today, so our boss is going to be surprised to see you. I’m Jon Barken, everyone calls me Jay. I’m your counterpart on the male side of the house – same job. We’re friendly, but nothing romantic.”

“Wei Lin Xen. Do I go by Wei or Wei Lin?”

“Just Wei,” Rath said.

“Wei,” Paisen repeated. Rath looked away, embarrassed, as she slipped out of the civilian shirt she had taken from one of the Warriors. “I need the new shirt,” she told him.

“Right, sorry.” He held it out to her, eyes focused on the floor.

“Thanks, Jay.”

“We can finish the rest of our shift, but I thought we could use your ‘illness’ as an excuse and leave early,” Rath told her. “Apparently the staff knocks off early all the time if there are no inmates to process.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” she agreed, affixing the badge to her uniform shirt. “Ready when you are.”

Out in the parking lot, Rath led Paisen to a dented pick-up truck. She eyed it with distaste, but climbed in. Rath started up and headed for the gate, waving to the security guard as they passed through. The prison access road was a single dirt track leading back to the main highway – Rath resisted the urge to drive overly fast, and only checked the rear-view mirror twice.

“You couldn’t steal an air car?” Paisen asked, when the prison compound was several miles behind them.

“It’s Jay’s car … I guess he can’t afford one,” Rath said. He checked the mirror again. “I’ve got some cash, but not much,” he admitted. “Where are we headed?”

“Somewhere quiet,” she said. “After this stunt, we’ll need to stay off the grid for a while. Another planet in the Territories. Then we can start searching for Group Headquarters.”

Rath glanced over at her, surprised. “You don’t know where it is?”

“No,” Paisen said. “My source said they move every few years for security. By the time I had my tracking system turned off, they had relocated from the planet she told me they were on.”

Rath frowned. “Well, I think I know someone who could help us with the search. He helped me find you.”

Paisen’s head snapped around. “You told someone else about me? About who we are?”

“I had to,” Rath insisted. “When you didn’t show on Lakeworld, I had no idea how to find you. So I got some help from a detective.”

“An Interstellar Police detective?!”

“Ex-detective, but … yes. Listen he’s not—”

Suddenly a black, metallic net slapped onto the hood of the car, punching through the metal with small grappling hooks. The lines of the net crackled with blue electricity, and the car screeched to a halt. Rath tapped frantically on the car’s control panel, but the screen stayed dark. Then two armored air cars roared overhead, swooping in for landings amidst a cloud of dust. One straddled the road directly in front of the pickup truck, and as the dust settled, Rath saw a door gunner leveling a pintle-mounted auto-cannon at him. The second car landed off to the side, and under cover of the heavy weapon, an assault team stepped off the landing skids, jogging toward Rath and Paisen with weapons at the ready.

“Shit,” Rath said. “The prison guards must have alerted someone.”

Paisen shot him a look of pure hatred. “No. That’s a Group collection team. And you led them right to me.”

* * *

Beauceron groaned and rolled over, bumping into something smooth and hard. He opened his eyes and studied it for a moment.

A … toilet?

He sat up, but his head swam immediately, and he lay back down.

Bad idea.

After a second, he opened his eyes again, blinking in the bright light.

That’s my bathroom ceiling.

He closed his eyes again and searched his pockets for his holophone, but it was gone. The watch Katarina had given him at his Detective promotion ceremony was still on his wrist, so he raised his left arm into view and squinted at it.

11:20 p.m. I was at the biergarten earlier this evening, did I get drunk again …?

He sat bolt upright.

Rath!

* * *

The hood slid off of Rath’s head, and he was momentarily blinded by the lights above him, despite his implants correcting for the glare. Rath squinted, and saw that he was looking at a bank of high-power bulbs, mounted on an adjustable arm.

Just like in an operating room.

He felt someone removing his shoes, and a slight tugging sensation on his pants, then the feeling of cold air against his skin.

Someone’s cutting off my clothing.

But his head was restrained, and he could only look up at the lights. Next to the lights he saw a viewscreen, and as he watched, it flickered to life. He saw a feed of Paisen, strapped to a surgical table, just as he was. Her clothes were already removed, and two men in surgical garb were leaning over a table of instruments, carefully laying them out.

Suddenly a masked face loomed into view over him. “Hello, 621. Welcome back.”

Rath swallowed nervously.

“Do you remember the video you were shown when you completed your training?” the man continued.

Rath nodded, his head moving only fractionally against the restraints. “Yes.”

“Excellent. For your sins, you get to help us make a new video. For the benefit of the cameras, can you please tell me how you find yourself to be here?”

“The Group betrayed me,” Rath told him.

“I can’t exactly show that to new recruits, can I? That’s okay. Think about it – we’ll have plenty of time to get a good quote out of you later on. For now, you can sit back and enjoy the show. You get to take today off, you see. Today, we’re going to focus on 339. But don’t worry,” he pointed up at the viewscreen. “You get to watch, and then tomorrow, you get to experience it all yourself.”

23

Elisaveta stuck her head around the edge of the door. “Coming up to bed?” she asked.

“Mm,” Rozhkov grunted.

“Who was here earlier?” she asked.

“Oh. Ah, Martin was. He needed help with something.”

She frowned disapprovingly. “Martin was here? And you didn’t tell me?” she scolded.

“You were in the shower.” He looked up, and realized he was still frowning, so he smiled at her. “He’s well, he said to give you his best. Go on up. I’ll be up in a while, I need to think for a bit.”

“Okay,” she said. “Good night, my love.”

“Good night.” He blew her a kiss, and she shut the door quietly.

Rozhkov sighed, and then pulled up the personal media folder on his computer. He accessed a playlist labeled
Katarina
, and let it run, watching as his daughter took her first steps, started school, and won her first soccer game. The video ended with her wedding, with Katarina and Beauceron slow-dancing alone on the dance floor, her head resting on his shoulder.

Before she got sick.

In the background, he saw himself holding Elisaveta, smiling. He closed the playlist, and hunted around in the folder again.

Where is it?

He tapped on a file marked
40th Anniversary
. A video opened; he was standing outside his office, next to the Alberon police commissioner. Smiling detectives were clustered around.

“Lieutenant Colonel Rozhkov has now spent four decades on the force. That’s longer than many of you have been alive. But it’s not as long as
I’ve
been on the force!” The detectives laughed politely. “But while he might not have as much tenure as I do, he certainly has as much respect, if not more so. This man has led his team – all of you – with integrity, dedication, and skill. I only hope he’ll continue to do so for a long time. The retirement age is only a suggestion, Alexei, not a requirement!” The detectives laughed again, and the commissioner handed Rozhkov a wooden plaque, then shook his hand. The assembled detectives applauded, and came forward to congratulate him, shaking hands and patting him on the shoulder.