The Iron Admiral: Deception (24 page)

She shrugged. “I’m out of work. I presume they’re paying?”

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

He swallowed another mouthful of beer, put the glass back on the table. “You mean it?”

“Yes, I mean it.”

“Okay.” He hesitated, staring at the table top.

The tables around them were starting to fill as people came in after work. Allysha checked them over.

The fishermen were still propped up at the bar. A gale of laughter erupted from the middle of the room, where a group had pulled a number of tables together into a square. The smell of roasting meat drifted from the kitchens.

“We’ll have to go to Kentor,” he said. “I can contact somebody there.”

“There’s nobody here?”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have come back if I thought there was.”

She was stalling, she knew she was. “Okay. I’ll check flights.” She pulled out her techpack and picked up the signal from the space port. Damnation. Flights to Kentor only went once a week. And the next one left at midnight, Carnessan time, the return trip of the flight she’d come in on.

“Has to be tonight, Sean. Unless you want to wait a week.”

He stared. “A week?”

She snorted a laugh. “I take it that’s not an option. Okay. I’ll pick up my stuff and meet you at the station.”

He put out a hand as she stood. “You’re leaving?”

She looked down at him and sighed. What had she ever seen in the man?

“The station, Sean. An hour.”

Allysha found Sean leaning casually against a wall inside the station. She had to hand it to him, he certainly looked convincing, a man waiting for his wife. She’d showered and changed into black pants and a deep red shirt. Minimal clothes and personal items were in a pack slung over her shoulder. She hadn’t booked out of the hotel. The room was hers for two weeks.

Sean straightened up as she approached and hefted his own pack. For the look of it, she put a hand on his shoulder and pecked him on the cheek. “Just for appearances,” she said in reply to his pleased surprise.

They walked into the station together, Allysha monitoring as they went. Ah. A warning. The same woman who’d been looking in shop windows earlier in the day. She might be going home, but if she followed them to the space port they might have picked up a tail.

“I have tickets to Kentor,” she said. “Second class.” Not too obvious but not down the back with the herd.

“It won’t be busy. There’s not much traffic going there anymore.”

She knew that but she didn’t bother to say.

They reached the space port without incident and made their way to the shuttle gate, half empty and orderly, a far cry from when they’d been here last, chaotic and claustrophobic. No sign of the woman.

She took two news sheets from the stack and handed one to Sean. A quick glance revealed nothing of interest. She pretended to watch the news items, her senses on her surroundings.

The boarding announcement caused the usual eruption of noise. A few people said fond farewells, chairs scraped, passengers jostled politely for position at the boarding gate. Sean and Allysha shuffled up the race in the middle of the queue. They were about to turn the corner in the passage when the warning flashed in Allysha’s implant.

The woman ambled behind them, last in line.

Allysha kept her eyes forward. “We have a tail,” she whispered out of the side of her mouth.

Sean’s face tightened a little but he didn’t turn. “Where?”

“Last in the queue.”

The woman turned right with the rest of the third class passengers while Allysha and Sean went left into first and second class. They sat together, half-way down the aisle. When the shuttle’s doors closed, less than half the seats in the cabin were in use. Five ptorix business people, two together, the other three alone; nine humans sat scattered in individual seats. No-one was on holiday, no family groups.

None of the business class passengers seemed in any way unusual but she recorded them anyway. Who did the woman in third class work for? She could be Fleet. Chaka would know where she was intending to go and she’d be stupid if she imagined he wouldn’t send agents. In fact, she hoped he had. Then again,

she could be a GPR agent.

She sent the woman’s image to her techpack and showed it to Sean. “Recognize her?”

He examined the image, brows lowered. “No,” he said at last. “But, like I said, I don’t think they have agents on Carnessa.” He chewed his lip. “I met Tepich in Sal Menoa—Kentor’s capital. He doesn’t like the ptorix, not one little bit. Refuses to have anything to do with them. Besides, they think you’re dead.

Don’t they?”

“Maybe not. If they have agents in the Fleet they may know I survived. Look, Sean, you must have picked up something about this. Do me a favor and level with me. I’m sticking my neck out for you.”

She

slapped his hand down as he made to order a drink. “Keep off the hooch. You need your wits about you.”

She was surprised to see him nod. “You’re right.” He sighed. “They always wanted you somewhere else. Tisyphor was a sort of test, to see how good you were.”

“Good at what?”

“Well, I thought ptorix systems. They approached me after you did the Brjyl job. The references from that were fantastic.”

Yes, she could imagine Sean’s eyes lighting up when they arrived. The references were very good. “But you don’t think ptorix systems anymore?”

“Think about it. You proved your worth all the time at the University and then the Brjyl job. I think it was the InfoDroid. I can’t think of anything else.”

“Makes sense.” Lots of sense. Time would tell.

She glanced again at the picture of the woman sitting in third class. She was almost convinced now, the woman was Fleet. Did she want them to follow her? Oh, well. Not much she could do, at least as far as the space station. Chaka’s face drifted into her mind, stern and angry. And worried and maybe even a bit

hurt that she’d left without talking to him. Yes, she’d expect that.I’m sorry, Chaka. Some things I have to

do by myself. She hoped he hadn’t been too hard on Vlad.

****

She found Miss Taylor well to the back of the queue. Without her surveillance systems, the woman would have been quite undetectable. After they’d disembarked at the space station and passed through the arrival gates the agent walked away, out of range of Allysha’s equipment.

“Can you get somebody up here?” Allysha asked, sitting down at a table in a half-full passenger lounge.

“I don’t particularly want to disappear into some city I know nothing about.” And at least up here, Miss Taylor, or whoever replaced her, would be about for backup.

“I’ll try.” He pulled out his comlink, thumbed through his contacts, stopped at one and made the call, keeping the conversation to voice only. She listened in.

“O’Reilly,” he said. “I’ve got her.”

“Where are you?”

“Kentor space station.”

“Bring her down here. I’m at—”

“No, you come up here.”

The slightest delay.“All right. Where are you?”

Sean swiveled his head. “Ah… Passenger Lounge on B circus. We’ve both got long black hair, tied back.”

“Quarter of an hour.”

“Horlitz is on his way,” he said, putting the comlink back on his belt.

Allysha swallowed, suddenly nervous again, and checked her surveillance equipment. “Who’s Horlitz?”

“Tepich’s contact here. I’ve never seen him but he organized my meeting with Tepich.”

“Okay. While we’re waiting, I have a few goodies that I’d like to distribute discreetly to our new friends.”

She ordered drinks, making the selections on the menu built into the table; a non-alcoholic fruit cocktail with a straw and a little umbrella for her and sparkling water for Sean. When they arrived she and Sean bent their heads together across the table like a pair of lovers while she explained how the gadgets she’d brought worked, and how he should distribute them. Funny, really, sitting like this with her soon to be ex-husband. Just as well Miss Taylor wasn’t nearby to send Chaka a picture of the happy reunion.

Chaka, you know I don’t mean it.

She checked her equipment for the tenth time. Still no sign of ‘Miss Taylor’; or anybody else of interest.

Maybe the woman had been replaced by somebody else. No warnings, no alerts from her spy gadgets, just the usual mix of business people and families moved through the space station. Here at Kentor a few ptorix were around as well, gliding through the hall in their conical robes. She found a news service to pretend to watch and Sean flicked through a magazine.

Each time people walked past, her heart jolted. She’d only managed to finish half her drink; the stuff bubbled in her stomach while the glass stood on the table, the little umbrella sagging over the rim. She wished they’d hurry up and get on with it before she lost her nerve.

The news service gave way to a life-style program. Whatever the show was about went in one eye and out the other. Sean was almost as bad. He didn’t bother changing to another magazine, just flicked through the pages, one way and then the other.

At last, two men approached and didn’t walk by. “O’Reilly?”

Allysha looked up at a big man with muscles on his muscles, his trousers tight around his thighs and his head too small for massive shoulders. His companion was of more normal build, non-descript, forgettable. A few months ago she might have thought he was relaxed and careless. Now she saw a man ready to move, checking the surroundings. And she also noticed a third person, a little too obviously not looking their way as he took a seat at a nearby table.

Sean was on his feet, thrusting out a hand. “Horlitz. Good to see you again.”

The big man’s hand engulfed Sean’s. Sean’s eyes flickered; the grip would’ve hurt, but he managed to pat the fellow on the arm with his left hand, leaving the tiny pickup invisible on his sleeve.

Horlitz turned the chair around and sat astride, his arms on the back. “This is Curtis,” he said, indicating his companion. “And I take it this is your wife?”

Sean nodded. “That’s right, Allysha Marten.”

She afforded him the briefest of smiles.

“Curtis here will take you to the boss.” He jerked his head at his companion, who sat down on a chair in the conventional way, next to her. She twitched her arm away from him and knocked her glass, which clattered to the floor. The little umbrella slid under the table in a pool of blue liquid.

“I’m so sorry,” she twittered as she bent to pick up the container. “I hope nothing spilt on you.” She brushed at his arm, wiping away invisible droplets.

Curtis looked down his nose at her. She could almost hear the unspoken words. This is her? This is what Tepich has been chasing? For good measure she added an apologetic smile. Best not to be too clever. This man was a professional.

“Do you have the contract?” Sean asked.

“Same terms as before,” Horlitz said.

Sean shook his head. “No. I never saw a contract for this. And Ally hasn’t seen it. Have you, Ally?”

Curtis and Horlitz exchanged a look. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the third man—what? Nod?

His lips moved; he seemed to be talking to himself. The voice spoke in her brain.

Let them see the general contract. No details until later. Do whatever you need to get them to agree.

The hair stood up on the back of her neck. She didn’t like the sound of that. Not the words, the tone, as if it didn’t matter, anyway.Think, Allysha, think . They needed her. But they didn’t need Sean anymore.

He’d served his purpose. Was she sure? Of course she wasn’t. What could she do? Keep him alive until the work, whatever it was, was done. But he’d be a burden to her; she’d have to look after him.

Curtis pulled out a data sheet. “This is our general working contract. You’ll see it’s time and materials based. It’s for one month but it will be automatically extended.”

Sean took the datasheet from his hands and glanced through the clauses. He looked up. “You’ve not provided any specific information about the job.”

Horlitz shook his head. “Security. We won’t give that information until you’re at the site.”

“What if I can’t do it?” she asked.

Horlitz’s lips curved into a humorless smile. “Mister Tepich is quite certain you are capable.”

Sean leaned over the table. “What about payment?”

Curtis mentioned a figure.

“You can’t be serious? For somebody like her?” Sean snorted. “Try again.”

“Okay, we’ll add ten percent.”

Sean pursed his lips, considering. “That’s—”

“Could I discuss this in private with my husband, Mister Curtis?” Allysha stood. “We’ll just be over there.”

Sean followed her over to the opposite wall. She flicked on her privacy shield and leaned toward him as if trying to persuade him, a hand laid on his chest as she gazed into his eyes. “You’ve got to clear off.

They’ve got me, they don’t need you. Take yourself to the men’s or something and disappear.”

Panic flared in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“No. You want to risk it?”

She took a step closer to him and slung an arm around his neck. “Just for show. Forget about the money. You won’t get it anyway. I’ll be fine. Keep yourself alive.”

Sean nodded, Allysha smiled as if in triumph and they returned to the two waiting men.

“Okay. We’ll sign,” Sean said as he sat down.

Curtis grinned and handed over the document. Sean applied his ID and she followed suit. They both watched as Curtis counter-signed.

“I’d like a copy,” Sean said.

Curtis shrugged. “Sure.”

While Sean copied the data onto his comlink, Allysha watched Curtis’s eyes, his body language. Sure, because it doesn’t matter anyway. It had all been too fast, too easy. Sean had better be on his toes.