He checked to
see whether Claire had lapsed into a coma, but she wasn’t drawing
breath.
She was better off here
anyway.
It seemed a strange justification
when looking at her corpse, but in Esteban’s mind, he was within
his rights for taking her life. He’d extended it, so it was his to
extinguish.
Now, for
Dan…
He’d launched a program to monitor
Dan’s progress through the portals and, the last time he’d checked,
Dan was still in Australia.
Slow Dan,
slow. I’d expected better from you.
Esteban
intended to be ready when he finally arrived.
And then you’ll see who the master is.
*
Saturday, September 18,
2066
22
:
43
Sydney, Australia
“
What’s so
important?”
Cookie stood and granted
him access to the screen. “Take a look for yourself.”
Dan crouched and wearily
began reading the records Cookie had left open. Fatigue was gnawing
at his patience and the pressure of finding Jen wasn’t easing with
the passage of time. He didn’t want to read the entire record; he
wanted a summary. But he played the game anyway.
His attitude
changed somewhere in the second paragraph and by the fourth his
attention was inextricably bound to the television set.
No.
Disbelief flooded his
mind. It soaked him like petrol so that when he sparked with anger
a moment later he exploded into an inferno of rage. He spoke
through clenched teeth. “And all this time I thought it was
random.”
“
You didn’t
have reason to believe it went this deep. None of us did.” Simon
was standing by, feeling uneasy. He wasn’t sure how his friend
would react, whether he’d start smashing government property or
collapse on the spot. Nor was he sure how to act himself.
Sorrow? Anger? Pity?
He
was wondering how best to offer comfort, but comfort was impossible
for a man who’d just discovered someone had paid a million Credits
to have his wife murdered.
Dan’s eyes glazed,
focussing on a point a million miles away, on something only he
could see.
Samantha and Cookie were
leaning on each other in the far corner, intensely
uncomfortable.
Now
what?
Dan mercilessly chewed his lower lip,
ignoring the sting and taste of blood that followed.
Does it change anything?
Sometimes he hated the truth.
Yes.
Things would’ve been easier if
he’d never known, but sheltering from the cruelty in the world
wouldn’t give him peace. No, he was glad that he knew. He was glad
to see the face that had orchestrated his misery from the
shadows.
“
So Esteban
was just following orders.” Simon didn’t know what else to
say.
Dan nodded. “It looks
like that.” He stabbed Cookie with a pleading look. “Are you sure
this is valid?”
“
I dunno man.
Someone could’ve forged it, but I couldn’t imagine why. UniForce
believed their network was impenetrable, so why plant misleading
information in their own database? Those records were restricted,
not everyone in the company had access to them.”
The ex-bounty-hunter
nodded at the logic. “I can see why.” There was enough damning
evidence in those few records to send powerful people to
gaol.
“
What’re you
going to do?” Simon asked nervously.
Dan muffled a snort of
amusement. “I’ve been asking myself that question.” Everyone felt
wretched during the long pause that followed. But Dan shattered the
deafening lapse in conversation by saying, “One thing at a time.
Jen’s probably not interested in why they killed
Katherine.”
The record that had
sparked his despondency was a contract between UniForce and
PortaNet. The ‘total transportation solution’ company had requested
Dan’s termination, but UniForce had declined. It was bad for
business to assassinate cops. UniForce had a delicate relationship
with law enforcement communities, why upset the balance for a few
million Credits? They had an industry to protect. No, the police
were strictly off limits. UniForce lined the pockets of several
police commissioners to keep the baying cops away. If they
assassinated a detective, nothing would stop the police from
tearing UniForce asunder. So a spokesperson for PortaNet had met
with a dedicated team of ‘solutions experts’ from UniForce, Esteban
included. It’d been a productive meeting, apparently. Another
record in the database provided a full transcript of the
discussion, which boiled Dan’s blood.
PortaNet had a problem.
Dan was pursuing a case that had the potential to embarrass the
company and they wanted his energies diverted. By that time, Dan
had a well-earned reputation for dogged pursuit of suspects,
regardless of their political protection. Together, UniForce and
PortaNet had concocted a scheme to kill Dan’s wife, thereby
distracting him. The contract was signed. Money was transferred.
And the deed was done. Esteban had personally volunteered for the
project and he’d delighted in slaughtering Dan’s wife. So, with the
target brutally murdered and Dan declared psychologically unfit for
duty, PortaNet transferred the remainder of the fee and was forever
in wedlock with the seedier side of big business. The records
didn’t depict precisely why PortaNet was so nervous, it was
UniForce’s policy not to ask.
“
He wasn’t
just following orders,” Dan said bitterly. “He sat on the panel
that proposed killing her.”
“
But PortaNet
paid him to do it,” Simon countered.
“
I know, but I
can only slay one monster at a time.” Dan wished he were big enough
to crush Esteban in the palm of his hand.
“
So you’re
going to fight this battle too?” Simon looked sad. He knew his
friend would dash himself against forces many times more powerful
than he could deal with. And it would lead only to one thing, his
grave.
“
Up until my
last breath,” Dan promised, though the threat sounded hollow. He’d
been skirting a fine edge for too long and felt as if he was
finally slipping over. The only thing he could see beneath his rage
was the bottomless pit of depression and desolation that he was
burning as fuel – the inescapable end was closer than he’d
thought.
That’s unfair.
Eleven months ago he’d believed he could thrash against the
world single-handedly for years, but hatred had gradually rotted
his core and sapped his strength.
I’ll
make them pay. They can’t get away with this shit.
Simon wished he could say
something to change Dan’s mind. “Do you know why they did it?” He
marvelled at Dan’s steadfast mask of calm, knowing his entire world
must be burning around him. “What they were covering up I
mean?”
Dan shrugged, trying to
remember the case he’d abandoned. Eleven months of dust had settled
on the filing cabinet in his mind and retrieving the proper
memories was tricky, but once they’d started flowing, the memories
were crisp and bountiful. “An assassination. Some scientist I
think. Lars Olssen? He was researching…” Dan stopped short. “Oh my
God.” The others waited for him to continue. “Oh my fucking
God!”
“
What?” Simon
couldn’t take the suspense.
He rubbed a palm over his
forehead to stop the room from spinning. “He was researching portal
material, uh, you know, that white shit they line it with – it all
happened before the ban on portal research. Maybe he discovered
something PortaNet didn’t want anyone to know. Trade
secrets?”
“
Maybe
PortaNet tried to fix the problem, fucked things up, and hired
professionals to clean up the mess.”
“
Perhaps…” Dan
scratched his chin. “But I wasn’t close to overturning any stones.
I was ready to call it quits and chuck the case in my failures
basket.”
“
Then, if they
were so spooked, they must’ve been hiding something
important.”
“
Anything a
giga-corporation is willing to risk their reputation over must
be
huge
.” He felt
a twinge of guilt, Jen was probably being tortured and he was
trying to uncover the mystery behind his wife’s downfall. “Cookie,”
Dan turned to see him reassuringly stroking Samantha’s shoulders in
the corner, “you’re the perfect person to answer my next
question.”
“
Shoot.”
“
If I give you
a mobile number, can you pinpoint the phone’s location?”
His eyebrows twitched.
“Yeah, I should be able to.”
“
Then I’ll
deal with Esteban before digging fresh trenches.” He handed Cookie
the slip of paper on which Michele had jotted Esteban’s mobile
number. “This is it.”
Cookie’s fingers
trembled, itching for his keys. “A friend of mine has a backdoor to
a triangulation service, but bear in mind I can only tell you the
general area, okay?”
Dan nodded and watched as
Cookie weaved his magic. Simon took a pace forward, astonished by
his remarkable keyboard skills. “Where the hell did he learn to do
that?” he whispered in Dan’s ear.
But Cookie heard and
answered first. “I’ve been practicing since I was knee-high to a
grasshopper.” Soon he had a form on his screen that was prompting
for a phone number and network. He selected United States for the
network and tapped Esteban’s number into the appropriate field.
They watched a rotating egg timer for three minutes before a
message blinked onto the screen. “No can do, man. Sorry. You can’t
pinpoint free-talk phones.”
Damn… there
goes my best lead.
He took the number
back.
It still might come in
handy.
“Okay, that’s it. Keep digging for
anything useful in the UniForce database.”
“
Sure man,
what’re you gonna do?”
Dan swivelled just in
time to catch Simon’s resigned look. “I’m gonna take another look
at my last case. Lars Olssen had colleagues if I’m not mistaken,
maybe they can shed some light on why PortaNet wanted him
dead.”
“
Which means
you probably need me to get you inside the station.” Simon
grimaced.
So much for my
weekend.
“
Hey guys, I
can access police records from here,” Cookie reminded them
helpfully. “It’s not like their network is Fort Knox.”
“
Don’t
bother,” Dan said with a dismissive wave. “UniForce is too
thorough; they would’ve purged the Department’s database, as much
for their protection as for PortaNet’s peace of mind. Neither wants
anyone tracing them to the deal. To be honest I’m surprised
UniForce kept anything at all.”
“
Ammunition,”
Simon sneered.
“
Probably,
yeah. Just in case relations turn sour.”
“
If you went
digging on PortaNet’s network you’d probably find something
similar.”
It made sense, Dan
admitted. “Well they should’ve thought of the consequences – now we
have it.”
Cookie chuckled softly.
“That’s probably why they burnt so much money installing a
UG7-rated network.”
Neither Dan nor Simon
fully appreciated the joke. Only Samantha understood how much
effort had gone into the hack.
“
Does the
Department still store backups in the cellar?” Dan asked
hopefully.
Simon nodded. “Sure
do.”
“
What about
Jen?” Samantha’s reminder stopped them before they reached the
door.
“
Esteban’s
waiting for me,” Dan said. “So I’m going to let him wait.” But his
calm demeanour hid the inner conflict that was tearing him in
separate directions.
“
Ah…” Samantha
took an instant dislike to the new plan. “But what about trying to
find her before they…” She couldn’t say it. “Do their
thing?”
“
I’m still
going to tear Esteban a new arse.” Dan limbered his lower back by
twisting left and right. “But his two friends are better targets
and the police basement is the best place to unearth them.” It was
the next best thing he could think of.
“
Good luck,”
Cookie said, already tapping at his keyboard. “We’ll buzz if
there’s anything new.”
When they
stepped into the star-streaked Australian night, Dan couldn’t shake
the feeling that he’d never see Samantha and Cookie again.
Don’t be silly.
He didn’t
believe in intuition and wasn’t superstitious. Still, it took ten
minutes before he could bend his thoughts back to more constructive
affairs.
*
Nathan sat motionless,
staring at the pixels on his screen.
The tension in the room
was palpable and it radiated from just behind his
sternum.
“
Put that
out.”
Nathan ignored his wife
and took another drag on his cigarette. He felt the smoky coil fill
his lungs before adding to the haze in the room when he
exhaled.
She sat next to him,
eased the smouldering cancer-stick from between his fingers, and
then squashed it onto the jade plate he was using as an ashtray.
She was reaching the end of her patience – every day she threatened
to leave. She desperately wanted to pack a bag and go to stay with
her sister, though she’d never tell him about her desire. Sometimes
she wondered whether it would even register if she did tell him.
Their marriage was a sham. There hadn’t been any life in their
relationship for over a year and she was growing tired of the
puerile games they played. She’d leave him alone for five minutes
and he’d light another cigarette, pondering deep thoughts while
staring listlessly into space. The weekends were the worst. At
least during the week he went to work instead of lingering around
the house like a bad smell.