Deserter (13 page)

“I’d say they’ve been gone two days, three at the most. And they left fast,” Abby said.

“Someone was tied to this bed,” Penny called from the room across the space occupied by two couches and an entertainment center. The others joined her. Ropes dangled from an iron bedstead; Penny shook it. “Solid build. Just what you’d want for fun and games . . . or to keep someone really down.”

Abby kicked at something on the floor. “Four, five syringes over here. Don’t know what was in them, but they could easily keep someone out for a long time with any of a half-dozen types of crap you can get on the streets.”

“We can send one of your cops by tomorrow to follow up,” Kris snapped. “Right now, we’ve got two more places to check.” It felt good to be Lieutenant and Princess for a moment. The others obeyed, heading for the door.

“Have we been under observation?” Kris asked.

NO, Nelly said. THIS PLACE HARDLY HAS A WORKING LIGHTBULB.

“I checked it with mosquitoes before we went in,” Abby said.

“When this is over, remind me to send a note to the place my mother hired you from,” Kris said. “They truly do send their people fully equipped.”

Jack raised an eyebrow at that.

Abby shrugged. “I’ll be sure to remind you.

The four blocks to the next rental got exciting.

Halfway there, three very wet, drunk, and stinking men blocked their way. “Hey, it’s so lousy out, all the good tricks are taking too long inside,” a very greasy one announced.

“Yeah, you got the only decent-looking one I’ve seen in hours.” Somehow, Kris doubted that.

“Why don’t you share?” a tall, thin one said, easing forward. “We could wait outside till you’re done, then do our own business, or we could all, you know.”

Kris edged her hand toward the automatic in her bra, but Jack took things off in a different direction. “Aw, guys, this is me sister. Mom’s been down on her knees praying and praying that Mabel here would see the error of her sinful ways. I’ve been hunting for her for months, all over town, and didn’t I just find her, down in the gutter, crying her eyes out.”

Kris let out with a wail. “My landlady, bitch, threw me out ’cause I couldn’t pay me rent. She doubled it. Doubled it. No way I can get me boss to double me pay.”

“You see,” Jack went on without missing a beat. “So I’m taking me poor sister home to Mother.”

The tall one nodded. “You got to respect a brother what’s taking care of his poor sister what’s gone bad,” he told his two friends. They grinned as a knife appeared in his hand.

Kris got ready to fight, but her main effort went into staying upright when Jack suddenly wasn’t there to lean on. It was dark, and there wasn’t a lot of light to see by, but it looked like Jack went into a spin that ended with his foot in the tall guy’s groin. Before he could double up, Jack finished his spin with a chop to his neck. Tall guy went down faster than a Marine’s pack hits the deck when his Gunny calls break.

Kris took a step forward, but the two buddies were in full reverse, protesting that they wouldn’t want to trouble “no guy taking care of his poor sister what went bad.”

“Let’s move it,” Kris ordered, and the women did. “No telling if that was just bad luck.”

“Or the start of a whole lot of bad luck,” Abby finished. “Somebody remind me why I’m here.”

“Don’t ask me,” Jack said, grabbing Kris’s elbow and hurrying her along like a pimp might a reluctant virgin. “I figured you for an office worker, myself.”

“Is that any way to talk to a girl like me that loves the great outdoors?”

“That’s our next target,” Penny said, pointing at a building lit up like electricity was as free as the rain falling on it.

“Nelly, talk to us.”

“The Tark’el Apartments were recently remodeled. Each room has its own full hookup to the net,” Nelly began, sounding like a commercial. “There is a central security center staffed twenty-four hours a day with an armed response team.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Penny said.

“On the contrary,” Nelly announced proudly. “The work was done by the lowest bidder, resulting in regular and frequent repair calls. I will just turn the security off in stages that simulate a slightly worse case than they are used to.”

“I take it the armed guards aren’t too quick to get on their feet,” Abby said.

“Neither of the two on duty tonight have passed their required physical for several years,” Nelly said.

“Why’re they still working?” Penny said.

There was a bit of a pause. “There is nothing in the record documenting that,” Nelly said, puzzlement showing in her voice.

“Nelly, people don’t usually note a bribe or kickback in the official records they keep on-line,” Kris said.

“I will keep that in mind,” Nelly said.

“You take the back door,” Kris told the other women. “Jack and I’ll take the front.”

Jack went by the front desk with a nod and a wink as if he took drowned streetwalkers up to his room every night. The woman on desk detail didn’t even look up from what sounded like a soap.

Abby and Penny hit the elevators about the same time as Kris, but the women took separate elevators up. Kris and Jack began their merged walk down the hall a half minute before Abby and Penny got off, complaining of their day and sharing dreams of a hot bath and clean sheets. Kris went through the same routine with her agent as she had before, minus the banter.

It lasted longer because Abby had more trouble with the door. She finally took a step back. “It’s defeated me.”

Breaking from Jack, Kris had had enough of being a boy toy, or anyone’s plaything. “Blow it.”

Penny produced a bottle and quickly laid down a bead of thick white at the hinges, then filled the lock. She added small electric devices to the goo, waved everyone back, and pulled a small box with buttons from her pocket.

“I’ll blow it on three. One . . . Two . . .”

The door opened.

Tommy peeked his head out. He took the four of them in with several blinks before locking eyes with Kris. “Oh shit, now I’m really in trouble. Longknife.” His watery eyes blinked. “Kris, what are you doing in that getup?” Then he slammed the door.

“Safetying the blow,” Penny announced and collected the triggers.

Kris rapped on the door. “Tommy, open up, it’s Kris.”

“Oh no, not for a Longknife. Never again.”

“It’s me, Tommy,” Penny said. “Open up.”

The door opened a few centimeters. “What are you doing here, Penny? And how did you get messed up with a Longknife?”

“It’s a long story,” Kris said, shoving the door open. Tommy crumpled to the floor like a deflated target. In a second, Jack was in, pulling Tom back to lay him out in the living area, Penny and Kris right behind him. Abby was last, making sure the hall was still empty. Then the door closed tightly.

While Kris and Penny made sure Tommy was still breathing and other vitals were in some semblance of normal, Jack and Abby fanned out through the apartment. “Somebody who liked Chinese food left here fast enough to leave a full table and recently enough there are no rats or other nasties in sight,” Jack said.

Abby must have drawn the bedroom. She returned with a rope twirling through her fingers. “He broke loose,” she announced, “after someone cut them half through.”

Quickly, Jack was beside her. He eyed the evidence, then nodded. “They wanted him to break loose.”

“Still half out of himself on drugs,” Abby said slowly.

Kris rose. The man she’d crossed light-years to rescue was not only free already, but insulting her. Not the usual ending for heroic acts of daring. “They must have figured they had what they wanted from him,” she said, “or from me. So they cut him loose to find his own way back to the embassy.”

“Or to get mugged, his throat slit, and dumped in a gutter,” Abby added with a cheerful smile.

“This is a bad enough part of town,” Penny agreed, looking up from where she still knelt beside Tommy. The young man was stirring, mumbling to himself. Penny went through his pockets and found a couple of coins and fifty Earth dollars in one of them. “In Katyville, people have been killed for less.”

“That’s also the price of a phone call and a cab fare to the embassy,” Jack added.

“Data supports both theories,” Abby said. “I suggest we finish this argument over popcorn in our warm, comfy suite at the Hilton, which I am beginning to wonder why I ever left.”

“Let’s get moving,” Kris ordered. “We go out the back way. Nelly, any alarms going off?”

“The guards are playing chess and ignoring the alarms.”

Abby and Penny supported Tom in a fast exit. Jack and Kris brought up the rear, arms still around each other and apparently lost in each other’s lust.

The team hadn’t gone ten feet from the hotel’s back door when a cab drove by slowly. The driver rolled down his window. “You look like you could use a ride. I could use a fare.”

Jack waved him on. Abby hollered, “He’s just had a bit too much to drink. We’re not going far.”

The cab moved on.

Even in the pouring rain, the streets of Katyville had never been empty. Small groups and pairs made their way up and down the streets, their hats down, their collars up. Others leaned against buildings, seeking whatever shelter they could from the rain. Unless Kris was imagining things, there were more people out now. Four men gathered outside a lean-to and started Kris’s way. Behind them, three men twirling bits of pipe and wood were gaining fast on a stumbling Tommy. “We got company,” Kris said.

“Fight or flight?” Jack asked.

“Fight’s all I see left,” Kris said and turned to meet the three. Kris closed the distance in four quick steps. The Gunny who taught hand-to-hand at OCS had no truck with a “fair fight,” and had worked hard to get the men to drop their rules. Kris had never had to fight and never been told some things were out of bounds. She took to dirty fighting like a babe took to milk.

The three were not expecting their quarry to charge. Kris blocked a weak swing with a club and went straight for the man’s groin. When he curled up, she used his club to whack a kidney. As he went down, Kris turned to help Jack, but his two were thrashing in separate puddles.

Shouts and jeers from behind drew them back to Tom. Jack led Kris in a quick jog. The girls had taken refuge around the corner with their backs to the wall. Jack and Kris hit the thugs on the right before they knew they were there. Two went down, but the crowd had grown. Six or seven guys were now kicking and swinging at Abby, Penny, and Tom. Kris swung her club at one head, spun with the follow-through, and aimed a kick at a fellow coming at her. She kept that spin going and saved her life.

The woman was in red. Red shiny boots with spiked heels, red leggings, and red form-fitting bodice with full sleeves. A red cap came down to form a half mask. Only her mouth was uncovered. It formed a sneer. Her red-gloved hand held a knife that gleamed in the light of the failing streetlamp. The knife had been aimed at Tom, but Kris’s spin brought her close enough to block it—or take it instead.

The woman slashed for Kris, caught her right arm, and the sneer became a shout of glee.

Kris felt the blow, but the Spider Silk turned the edge. Finishing the spin, Kris swung the club at the woman’s gut. Weighted, the blow knocked the wind out of the woman and drove her back. Abby, momentarily unoccupied, brought her elbow up into the woman’s throat and finished taking her down.

Kris turned, looking for another target. The few men standing were running. Most of the people down were dirty, ragged refuse. The woman was the exception.

Kris knelt beside the captured red, slapped her face to consciousness. “What’s going on here?” she demanded, pulling back the mask to reveal raven-black hair.

The woman came aware with a start; her eyes darted around, taking in the failed attack. “You’ve won again, Longknife. But you won’t win free of this trap,” she snarled and snapped her mouth shut.

“Don’t let her do that,” Abby said, but the captive’s eyes were already rolling back in her head. The maid gingerly opened the woman’s mouth. “Yep, she shattered a fake tooth. Poison.”

Kris stared at the still-trembling body. The woman knew Kris. Knew Kris, and had spent her last breath snarling a promise that Kris was trapped. “Let’s get moving,” she said, glancing around at the now-empty streets.

They hustled Tom for another block. Kris spotted a cab at a cross street and almost hailed it. A half block later, the cab rolled up beside them. Same cabby. “You got much farther to go?” the driver asked them.

Abby glanced at Kris, then nodded toward Tommy. His steps had been getting more shaky, and now he was shivering with a chill. Kris did a quick check. Clots of men were beginning to collect again. “Check him out,” she said.

“What’cha doing in a place like this?” Abby asked.

NELLY, TALK TO ME ABOUT THAT CABBY?

“I got this fare at the ’vader for that hotel,” the olive-skinned man said, indicting the Tark’el Apartments. “If I deadhead out of here, I’m gonna loose half of what I made on that ride. And you do look like you could use some help. What do you say I drop the minimum charge. You just pay the time fee.”

THE CAB IS REGISTERED TO MR. ABU KARTUM. HIS PICTURE MATCHES THE FACE IN THE CAB IN ONE HUNDRED FORTY OUT OF ONE HUNDRED SIXTY FACE ID POINTS. PROBABILITY IS NINETY-NINE POINT EIGHT PERCENT THAT IS HIM. HE HAS NO POLICE RECORD. MEDIA REPORTS SHOW HIM TO BE VERY ACTIVE IN THE ISLAMIC COMMUNITY HERE, WORKING ON CHARITABLE AND SOCIAL ACTIVITIES. HE IS RAISING SIX CHILDREN, HIS OWN FOUR AND HIS BROTHER’S TWO. HIS BROTHER DIED FROM A PULMONARY DISEASE PROBABLY ACQUIRED AT THE CHEMICAL FACTORY HE WAS EMPLOYED BY.

ENOUGH. “Abby,” Kris called softly. “Check out the back.”

Abby opened the rear passenger door and dug around inside. Up the street, some men who’d been holding up a dilapidated building got energetic and meandered toward Kris’s team.