Search for the Phoenix: Phoenix Series Book 2 (2 page)

Nolan nodded. “I shouldn’t be surprised. If you’re willing to help, I’m going to set some things in motion. The first will be to steal the Independence. It belongs to Carl, and SACOM has no right to destroy it.”

“Good,” Megan said. “Then what?”

“Then I’ll start digging to find out what happened to Carl. If anyone knows who set us up, he does. The key to finding him may be this Lansing guy. If I can locate Carl, I’ll need a ship to pick him up, and I can’t think of a better choice than the Independence.”

“You can count on me. Whatever you need, you’ve got it,” she said.

“Okay. Then I’ll get started,” he said as he stood. Megan walked him to the door where Nolan turned and hugged her. “I’m sorry about John.”

She held him tightly for a moment. “We were all like one big family. I know it hurts you, too. Find out who was responsible.” She patted him on the back and then released him. With a nod, he turned and stepped into the corridor.

* * * *

Nolan stepped into The Cove. Eddie, the bouncer, rested a large hand on his shoulder. “It’s good to see you, Mr. Peters.” Nolan had always come here with Carl, and it had been Carl who had been the focus of Eddie and Mick’s attention. He’d just been
one of Carl’s guys
standing in the boss’s shadow. Eddie’s sudden familiarity only reinforced the fact that Carl was gone.

“Thanks, Eddie,” he said with a smile, patting the man’s muscular forearm before turning and continuing across the room to the far end of the bar, taking Carl’s favorite seat, the last stool by the wall.

The place was just as he remembered it. Walls paneled with dark-stained planks, hung with reproduction antique artifacts from the days of ocean-sailing ships on Earth. Then there were the stuffed fish, seashells, and fishing nets. This place was the polar opposite of eclectic. The decorator had been utterly single-minded in the interior design.

“Hey, Nolan, it’s been a while. What can I get you?” asked Mick, the bartender.

“Do you have Kellan’s on tap?” he asked.

Mick nodded. “Coming right up,” he said as he pulled a large glass mug from a freezer under the bar. Frost formed on the mug as Mick filled it and placed it in front of him.

“Thanks. There’s something else I need,” he said. Mick caught his tone and saw his expression, leaning closer. “I am going to need some very specialized help, and I’ll need it quickly,” Nolan said in a soft voice. Mick nodded, and Nolan went on in a whisper, “I’m going to need undocumented transportation to orbit. I’ll need new registration papers for the Independence. I’ll also need new identification for myself. Two IDs would be preferable, including captain’s papers.”

“Those are some big orders. I know some folks who can help, but it won’t be cheap,” Mick said.

“I also want to find out anything I can about a guy named Lansing who may have had some business dealings with Carl.”

Mick shook his head. “That Lansing fellow… I don’t know… there may not be much to find out.”

“Do you know him?” Nolan asked.

“He came in here once and talked to Carl just before he disappeared. Carl had Eddie throw him out almost as soon as he started talking,” Mick said. “I’d never seen him before, and not since, either. If he’s a big league player, you’re chasing a ghost.”

“Thanks for the info. I want to find out anything I can about him. SACOM is interested in him, too,” Nolan said.

“How do you know that?”

“Because I was the guest of honor at a SACOM interrogation. They asked me about him repeatedly for five days. The guy must know something,” Nolan said.

Mick shook his head. “Think about it. If SACOM is resorting to asking you about Lansing, you’re not going to find anything. They’ve run into a wall, and they’re grasping at straws. If you’ll take my advice, forget about Lansing for now. You’ll spend a lot of credits and probably won’t find anything. You can put those credits to better use.”

Nolan considered this for a moment. “I’ll think about it. He may be my best chance of finding Carl.”

“Give me a day. I’ll find you some help,” Mick said. “They’re gonna want chips, and lots of them.”

“I know. I’ll be ready,” Nolan said.

Mick’s expression became stern, his eyes narrowed. “Find out who screwed Carl.”

Nolan nodded. He picked up his mug and took a swig as Mick moved off to tend to his other customers.

As Nolan walked home, he was preoccupied with a single thought. He was out of his depth. Space propulsion systems and gravity generators were his areas of expertise. Carl had always handled the business side of things. The people he would be dealing with would, undoubtedly, be underhanded and evasive. It came with the territory. He remembered the look Mick gave him when he told him to find out who had screwed Carl. He’d just have to trust Mick to put him in touch with good people. He had no other choice.

In the morning, he’d visit Megan again and make the final arrangements. He hoped they could afford the services they required.

* * * *

Nolan knocked on Megan’s door. He was taken aback when the door opened and a big man in a very expensive-looking suit greeted him. The man looked like a slightly younger version of John. Megan peered around him and said, “It’s okay, Nolan. Come in.” The man smiled and stepped aside. Nolan cautiously entered the apartment.

“Nolan, this is Derick. He’s John’s brother. He’s also my attorney,” Megan said as she sat on the couch. Derick sat next to her, and the pair waited as Nolan took the seat across from them. “Derick has offered to help us. When SACOM gave me the credits, I told Derick I wanted to give them back to Carl. He withdrew the credits in multiple transactions over several weeks using untraceable accounts, and then cashed them out for credit chips. They’re in the vault in his office. He will review any deals we enter into, and he’ll handle the payments.”

“That’s good,” Nolan said. “Just last night, I was worried I was too far out of my element, and that I might get taken advantage of.”

Derick nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll be watching out for Megan’s best interests. I’ll handle all deals personally. If things get rough, I know some people with… certain talents that can be brought in as needed.”

“What arrangements have you made so far?” Megan asked.

“I’m going back to The Cove this evening to see Mick. He said he’d have some help lined up for me.”

“I’ll go with you,” Derick said.

“But these people… they’re crooks. They might think you’re a cop and get spooked,” Nolan objected.

“You’ve been watching too many police holo-dramas,” Derick said. “Besides, Dawson City cops don’t wear Bartellini suits. They won’t be happy about my involvement, but they won’t run. If you can afford my services, they’ll know you aren’t just jerking them around.”

“Won’t that just make them charge us more?” Nolan asked.

Derick smiled. “They’ll ask for more, but they’ll know they won’t get it.”

* * * *

Nolan and Derick sat at a table in the dark corner at the rear of The Cove. Mick said their first contact, a guy called Neil, would show up at seven o’clock. A man entered the bar, looked around, and then slowly began walking toward them. Nolan looked at his watch—punctual. He took a sip of his beer as the man reached their table.

“Are you Neil?” Derick asked.

“Yep. Who the hell are you?”

“This is my client, who doesn’t have a name. His parents didn’t believe in naming their kids. I’m his attorney,” Derick said.

“I suppose your parents didn’t believe in naming their kids, either,” Neil said as he pulled out a chair and sat.

Derick smiled and nodded. “That’s right.”

Neil leaned forward. “I’m a busy man, so let’s get right down to business. I understand you need a couple of identities so you can do some discreet traveling. I charge twenty-five thousand credits per ID.”

Derick smiled and shook his head. “Sorry, but we’re not interested at that price.”

“Suit yourself,” Neil said as he pushed back his chair. Nolan and Derick watched him, their smiles unwavering. Neil looked from one to the other, an expectant look on his face.

“You were leaving, weren’t you?” Nolan asked.

Neil looked at him for a moment, and then sighed and scooted his chair in again. “Okay, what price did you have in mind?”

“Twenty-five for the pair,” Derick said.

“You’re killing me, man. Thirty,” Neil countered.

“Twenty-seven,” Derick said.

Neil rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Okay, twenty-seven for the pair. Do you want to pick the names, or should I surprise you?”

Derick smiled as he pulled a slip of paper from his breast pocket and passed it to Neil. “These are the names along with a few other details. Can you work with this?”

Neil unfolded the paper and read it. He shrugged. “Sure, no problem. Payment in advance in chips.”

Derick chuckled as he bent down and picked up a lunchbox from under the table. He slid it across the table to Neil and said, “There’s ten thousand in there, along with a data card with my client’s photograph and bio-data for the documents. You’ll get the other seventeen when I inspect your work and approve it.”

“You’re killing me, man,” Neil said. It seemed to be his catch phrase. After a moment, he picked up the lunchbox and stood. “I need two days. I’ll be in touch with Mick to schedule our next meeting.” Derick nodded, and Neil turned and walked away.

“That was intense,” Nolan said after Neil had left the bar. “I thought he was going to leave when you offered him half what he was asking.”

“He did all right. Twenty-five is the going rate. I’m sure he’s quite pleased with our deal,” Derick said.

Nolan looked at his watch and said, “Seventeen minutes until the next guy gets here.” He picked up his mug and took a big gulp of beer. He smiled at Derick. “This is exciting. I should have been a crook for a living.”

Derick shrugged. “You’re well on your way already.”

The enormity of the comment caught Nolan off guard. He hadn’t really thought about it, but he would be a crook soon. He was buying false identities on the black-market, and soon, he’d be stealing a spaceship from SACOM. If he got caught at any stage in the operation, he’d vanish from sight and probably spend the rest of his life rotting in a SACOM prison somewhere. The excitement he had felt a moment ago vanished, replaced by a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He took another swig of beer and stared at the foam floating in the mug.

He was just finishing the last of his drink when a soft voice said, “Are you gentlemen expecting someone?” A woman with short, red hair and dark brown eyes was standing near their table. Nolan guessed she was around his age. Her hair was obviously dyed, but there was something familiar about her eyes. He nodded, unable to speak.

“Are you Ronnie?” Derick asked.

She smiled. “Yes. Let me guess… you were expecting a dumpy, middle-aged man with a beer gut and bad breath?”

“Please, be seated. We’ve been expecting you,” Derick said.

She eyed him as she eased gracefully into a chair. “You’re a lawyer… mainly mergers and acquisitions, I suspect. Your accent says you grew up around Vernase, or maybe Talloma, but you went away to college where, in addition to studying law, you worked at erasing your accent.”

Derick smiled. “You’re good.”

Ronnie nodded. “Oh, I’m very good at
everything
I do.” She smiled when she saw Derick blush, which made his blush deepen. She turned her attention to Nolan, eyeing him for a moment. “And you… can’t afford this gentleman’s services on your own. Someone is financing your little project, whatever it is.”

Derick cleared his throat. “Shall we discuss our business?”

Ronnie smiled as she turned back to him. “Sure thing. What is it you’re looking for?”

“I believe Mick made our needs clear to you,” Derick said.

“I have a short memory. Remind me,” she said.

Derick leaned forward and lowered his voice. “We need a clean registration for a spaceship, and captain’s papers in two names.”

“Oh yes, that’s right. Those are very expensive commodities,” she said.

Derick rolled his eyes for dramatic effect and said, “The going rate is fifty thousand credits.”

Ronnie shook her head. “Maybe if you only want to visit a few of the outlying agricultural worlds. If you want documentation that will stand up to scrutiny anywhere, you need
me
, and I’m not cheap.”

“What number were you thinking of?” Derick asked.

“Seventy-five,” she said without hesitation as she stared into Derick’s eyes, daring him to flinch.

“Sixty,” he said.

Ronnie laughed and stood up. “Sorry, gentlemen, but I am a busy lady, and I don’t have time to play minor league games.”

Derick raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Seventy.”

“Look, Mr. Silk Suit, my price is seventy-five. Are we going to do business, or are you just wasting my time?”