“I’ll see him later,” Kris snapped. “Captain DeVar, do you have a Tac Center?”
“A small one.” He led her to it.
It was tiny. The next room down was the huge conference room Kris had whiled away many a negotiating hour. “Take over that room. I’ll clear it with the ambassador.”
“Ooh-Rah” was the captain’s reply.
Kris quick marched for the ambassador’s office. She found him sitting at a long table in his huge office, holding a budget meeting with his key staff.
“We need this room. Wait outside,” Kris ordered.
The ambassador started to say something but flinched when Kris snapped at the others, “You. Out!”
They went.
Door closed, the ambassador tried to seize the initiative. “What do you think you are doing, young lady?”
Kris stood at the opposite end of the table. Leaning forcefully on it, she corrected him. “
I
am not a ‘young lady.’
I
am a serving Lieutenant in the Wardhaven Navy.
I
am a princess of the blood and a Longknife. I am
presently
conducting a search for Ruth Tordon.
You
have two choices.”
At the other end of the table, the little man began to fidget. If there was a question of which end of the table was the head— and which the foot— it was now resolved.
“When next I meet with General Trouble and his good friend King Raymond, I can tell them that you rendered all assistance to the search for Ruth. And you will still have a career.”
Kris paused to let that sink in. “Alternately, you can attempt to interfere, and I will send a priority message to both king and prime minister. You will receive your recall in the next priority mail.”
That might or might not be true. While there was no doubt that Grampa Ray would do anything for his old war buddies, both Trouble and Ruth, Father might not like getting a demand from his daughter concerning
his
Foreign Service.
Kris tossed the bluff out and waited.
Sammy folded. “Yes, yes, of course, you may have anything the embassy can provide.”
“Thank you very much,” Kris said. She did a quick about-face and quick marched from the office. In the outer office, the staff members were waiting. “You may continue your meeting,” she said, and did not look back.
So, she could have anything the embassy had,
Kris thought.
I could get to like this.
If only Gramma Ruth’s life didn’t hang in the balance.
“What
have you got for me?” Kris asked as she stepped into the conference room that was now a Tac Center.
“Cara’s scrap of paper has a phone number on it,” Jack said.
“A phone number. Isn’t that a bit slipshod for this bunch?”
“Not so much a phone number,” Chief Beni replied, “as the impression of the number written on the paper above it.”
“And the number is…?” Kris asked.
“Not on the list I bought,” Bronc said.
“What are the chances it will be in the level five?”
That got Kris shrugs.
She took a moment to familiarize herself with the Tac Center. Across from the door, one wall was already sprouting photos relevant to the case. Front and center was a picture of Grampa Trouble and Gramma Ruth: he in full military splendor, she in a golden gown. They were lovely together.
Beside that photo was a recent portrait of her that might have been from her passport. Next were pictures of the Marines, one showing each facedown and dead. Then their ID pictures. If anyone wondered why they were here, the photos answered that.
“Let’s go for level-five access,” Kris decided.
“Ah, Kris, there may be a problem with that,” Abby said.
“How so?” Kris asked, turning to her maid… and the two kids that now seemed permanently attached to her.
The boy had a major case of the fidgets. “Every computer has a permanent ID branded into it. Anything you do on net can get back to you. Even Micky hasn’t been able to figure out a way to change that.” Micky apparently was quite a whiz at this.
“If I buy level five,” Bronc said, “someone will be checking back on me in like, five minutes ago.”
“You’re safe with us,” Kris said.
“But my mom. I had to give my home address when I registered the computer. My mom.” It was almost a plea.
“Is a problem,” Kris finished. Without knowing it, she was endangering the most precious thing this poor young fellow had. But then, everyone knew Longknifes used up people.
What say we get Gramma Ruth back without using up anyone this time
.
She turned. “Captain DeVar, can we solve this before it becomes a problem?”
“Certainly, Your Highness. Gunny.”
“Yes, sir,” Gunny said, and turned to two Marines. “You just volunteered for detached duty.”
The two, a man and woman snapped to attention. “Yes, sir.”
“Draw a credit chit and see that this man’s mother is out of the line of fire. Try to avoid hurting anyone if you can.”
“Yes, Gunny.” The woman Marine grinned. The guy scowled.
“Should they be using one of my credit chits?” Kris asked.
Captain DeVar shook his head. “This is official Corps business,” he said, glancing at the photos.
Kris didn’t argue.
“You folks will need a car that doesn’t scream Marine in that burg,” Captain DeVar said, pulling keys from his pocket. “Try not to dent it in too many places.”
“Ooh-Rah.” Now it was the Marine’s turn to grin as he caught the keys. The woman Marine muttered something about extra, extra hazardous duty pay as they trotted out the door.
“Nelly, call this place and charge the fifth level?”
“I can’t, ma’am. If I am not a computer registered to this planet, much of the web is invisible to me.”
The captain nodded. “One of my Marines’ local girlfriend hooked him on a computer game. He had to buy a local computer to play. Several of my troopers have them. Gunny, get a couple of those local ’puters in here.”
“Belay that order” came from Kris’s collarbone.
“And why might that be, Nelly,” Kris said, rolling her eyes at the ceiling as her décolletage, or lack of it, became the center of attention.
I got to figure a way to wear Nelly on my head, my wrist.
B
E HONEST, YOU REALLY LIKE THE ATTENTION
, Nelly told her, before going on out loud. “I just ordered a top-of-the-line computer from Ryes. In the process, I acquired both the ID codes of the new computer and am organizing a tiny portion of myself to be that computer. I’ll even download basic software from the net to look like a real local computer.”
“Yes,” shouted Bronc, who with Cara had been jumping up and down and shouting, “Go, girl,” at Nelly’s announcement.
“I am tired of this planet giving me the runaround. It is time I start showing it why I am the one and only Nelly.”
For a computer, Nelly sounded in full huff. This looked to get interesting.
“Whose name you going to register it in?” Kris asked.
“Oh, I thought I might put it in the chief’s name.”
“Why me?” Chief Beni demanded.
“You need something interesting in your life,” Nelly shot back. Clearly, the relationship between Nelly and the chief was changing. Kris hoped she could survive whatever came next.
“You buffering this new computer?” Kris asked. “If the downloaded software from Eden is half as obnoxious as this planet’s people…”
“It is triple buffered,” Nelly said. “Eew, that was not nice. Bother, Kris! This software is very controlling. I begin to see why this planet is so messed up.”
“Something we are just starting to tackle,” Kris said. “Let me know when you are ready to start buying stuff.”
“I am good to go. That is what you Marines say. Right?”
“Good to go, girl. Let’s get this show on the road. Abby, give Nelly a credit.”
“No need, Kris. I have set up a line of credit myself. That was what I have been using. They will not be able to trace anything back to here.”
That got raised eyebrows between Kris and Abby. Jack tried to cover a grin. The Marines, including the captain, looked ready to roll on the floor, laughing. Except Marines don’t do that. Not with a princess present.
“I have loaded the fifth level. I will pass it to Bronc. Kris, there is an option to buy the archives for a somewhat larger fee.”
“Archives?”
“Yes, it says some phones that are no longer in use may be in the archives.”
“Do it!”
“Oh, that was not nice.”
“Yes, Nelly.”
“They declined my credit. I thought I’d made it large enough, but I guess not.”
“Abby, pass Nelly a new chit number.”
“I have it. Now, let me see. There is more available.”
“There is?” Kris asked at the same time Jack and Penny did.
“I am clicking on every aspect of the site, and I am opening up what I think you call Easter eggs.”
“Micky didn’t mention anything about Easter eggs,” Bronc said, mouth hanging open.
“Maybe he doesn’t know everything there is to know,” Kris said. “Talk to us, Nelly.”
“I have an offer for every street address, occupant, financial status, and social coding. The price is steep.”
“Buy it,” Kris snapped. “Now we’ll have something more to cross-check our number against than just a raw address.”
“Kris, they also have bank records for sale, but they want quite a bit for them. And I do not know if they will have any of the more interesting people in them.”
“Will they let you do a sample run?”
“No, ma’am. You pay to play or you go home empty.”
“Let’s wait a bit for that.”
“Your Princess, ah, whatever—” Bronc started.
“Call me Kris.”
“I found Cara’s number. It wasn’t in the fifth-level list. It was in the archives.”
“Does it have an address?”
“Ah, yes, but, ah, it’s way up town,” he said slowly. “And it could be old, you know.”
“We won’t go busting in doors,” Kris said, then added, “unless we have to.”
“Kris, I have a phone call coming in for you,” Nelly said.
“Who?”
“A Frederico Miguel O’Hallihan.”
“That’s the Bones’s head man,” Cara whispered.
“I’ll take it.”
“Hey there, Princess, you still in town?”
“I still have unfinished business, Frederico.”
“Nobody calls me that.”
“Sorry, Bone Man,” Kris corrected as both Bronc and Cara loudly mouthed the proper form for addressing the thug.
“Well, now that we got that straight, I was wondering if you was interested in what was happening in my part of town.”
“You know it’s important to me.”
“Good,” he preened. “Cause the boys that kind of ran off with your boy. We been talking to them and maybe they remember now some guy helping them jump to the conclusion that your boy wasn’t our boy no more. You see.”
“I do.”
“Good, cause this very same dude that caused us so much trouble this morning is back in town, looking to hire some heat. Says it won’t be for long. Lots of money in it if things go down right. You curious about this?”
“I am very curious,” Kris said, deadly spicing her words.
“You want maybe to put one of your boys in with five, six of ours and see where this takes him?”
Kris eyed her team. “Let me think on this for a second.” N
ELLY, MUTE THE LINE
.
“Line muted,” Nelly announced.
“Captain, could one of your men pass for a ganger?”
DeVar was shaking his head even before Gunny added his own curt nod. “This world is just too flaky,” Gunny said.
“Could you tail them?” Kris asked.
“Nothing beats a try but a failure. We’ll need a car,” Captain DeVar said, an evil grin capturing his face. He tapped his commlink. “Doc, you know that old rattletrap of yours?”
“The one that beats any rig you got?” came back at him.
“You need to loan it to a couple of carefree jarheads.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because a princess asks you,” Kris said, raising her voice to carry to the captain’s commlink.
“Oh, that damsel in distress thing.”
“You heard about Ruth Tordon being kidnapped?” Kris asked.
“Oh, that. How fast can you get a runner up here? No, I’ll head down to you. Time I got involved.”
“We’ve taken over the conference room forward of the Tac Center,” the captain said, signed off, and turned to Gunny. “Who’s good for a tailing and will call for backup before doing something we’ll all regret?”
“Don’t know about that regretting part,” Gunny said, but nodded at two Marines. “Amy, Brute, you saw what they were wearing this morning. Can you look like that?”
Both nodded and headed for the door.
Penny did, too. “I’m going with them.”
“Penny?” Kris said.
“This isn’t storm-trooper work. This is good, old-fashioned police work like my dad told me about when I was still small enough to sit on his knee. And I did some field work in my intel days, Kris. And besides, I’m sick and tired of watching, observing, and reporting. I want to
do
something for a change.”
Kris wanted to say no. But hadn’t she said that what Penny needed most was work? And Penny was right. This was standard police work, not something even a Special Ops–capable Marine company trained for. She glanced at Jack. His face showed only the sadness of someone watching a friend head in harms way. There was no judgment there for Kris, sending another one of her people into the line of fire.
“Keep your head down and call in if you find anything.”
“Ain’t that the mission, boss,” Penny said. She flashed Kris a smile for the first time in months and was gone.
But Captain DeVar was frowning. “Is there something I should know about her? Will my Marines be safe with her?”
“As safe as with their own mother,” Kris said. “Lieutenant Pasley-Lien is good to go.”
Kris turned to the photos and let the last few minutes roll by in her mind. She’d sent two Marines out to keep Bronc’s mother safe. She’d sent Penny and two Marines to tail someone hiring shooters from a local, now probably friendly, gang.
And she had a phone number that might or might not be of any value. “That phone number is from uptown,” Kris said.