Rogue-ARC (21 page)

She said, “I assume some of them are security, masking as maintenance, pulling lines and checking the drains and sewers.”

“Undoubtedly. They’ll also want to have things neat and shiny for this, with all the outsystem press.”

“News and traffic monitoring,” I said as a reminder to us both. Radio and phone chatter about these projects would help determine which way to jump. The radio traffic here helped a lot. It wasn’t encrypted and much easier to crack than more advanced intranet signals.

We cleared the area five minutes before the cordons went up, to avoid any interaction with officialdom. I’d like to have remained in the area, but it hadn’t worked on Caledonia and I did not want to risk the trigger happy yahoos in this system, or the political fallout, or the sheer mass of bodies. The various groups on Mtali fought like squawking chickens, but they fought like fanatical, drugged out, fervorous squawking chickens with heavy weaponry.

We had passive sensors and video at the hotel, which Silver triggered by remote. Her phone was a most impressive little gadget, and fiendishly expensive, since it contained a mutable ID tag for tens of systems on six planets and the flexibility to add more. You can’t buy them in stores. Our Projects people have them custom built and then do the hotrodding themselves.

We weren’t going to get much sleep, but there was little else to do here without being obvious and we had scanners running, so we went home for a combat nap.

***

The morning of the summit, our actors arrived for the “gig.” One was late, and had me sweating, until he dropped off a bus.

One named Khan had shown great promise and grasp of things, so I tagged him as a driver.

Silver and I were garbed and geared like professionals, in coarse, loose work pants, pockets stuffed and with backpacks and harnesses. I greeted them as they arrived. Once they were all there, I explained.

“We are going in three vehicles. Ms Mael and I will depart at this location. You proceed to the summit, where Effendi Alrab is to appear. There are floatcams and ground cameras in several locations.”

They looked a bit wide-eyed. Some nervous, some excited, a couple a bit disgusted. Not fans of his, obviously.

“The important part is to look cheerful. Wave as he does. You’ll be along the route without headgear. As he steps out, don headgear, step through the line and walk along the carpet alongside him, but not too close together. You should look like ten of him. Once you reach this point,” I held up a pad with a map, “disperse back into the crowd and greet people. You are to say, ‘This is a great step forward.’ Shake hands and bow. We’ll meet back at this point after that.”

One man asked, “Is this a security measure to make us targets for him?”

I replied, “It is designed to attract a lot of media attention. I don’t know what he intends to announce, but my job is to make sure this is widely noticed.” I had told the truth and not answered his question.

A couple of them looked really unsure. That was fine. I could manage with five, though I’d hate to have less. There were mutters.

I said, “I can only speculate, but part of the discussion is about the new university addition and the media complex. This would tie in with that. Ten effendi Alrab’s demonstrate ten different buildings. I know we have a tasking for the coming week, too.”

Someone asked, “What are the details on that?”

I shrugged. “The executive producer hasn’t mentioned it. I’m sure you know how this works. They’ll tell me on Saturday evening.”

It worked. They agreed that Alrab was a celebrity, and that the proposed event was adequately neutral and beneficial to be worthwhile.

At the zero point, Silver and I climbed out with bulky multispectrum recording gear, water bottles, comm belts, floater controls, the works. We looked like experts. I handed a keyed phone to Khan and told him to expect my signals. “Here’s the parking passes,” I said. “We’re paid for the primary zone.”

He nodded, smiled and engaged. They drove as we made a show of checking gear and following along on foot. I watched as they got lost in the fleet of limos and escort vehicles, and turned into one of the upscale parking areas.

We walked briskly toward the perimeter, then turned down a side street toward the hotel. We went largely unnoticed, with hat brims covering our faces against cameras.

I had another car stashed here, which I’d recover later if possible. The duplicate gear went into there. All things included, this minor distraction cost better than 50,000 marks.

Unencumbered by the gear, and nondescript, we moved through the lot—old style painted lines on flat ground with no autonav—and into the hotel. We kept the hat brims down. The lobby was nice, but not up to modern standards. Things were patchy and threadbare in spots. They did try to keep it clean at least.

The elevator was wonky. I had to trust it, but it would be very ironic if it failed at this moment. I hate irony. Nor could I say anything. We might be overheard.

Silver and I kept up a natter of nothing. Overdone, it can be an indicator that someone is nervous and hiding something. Done right, just a little, it looks very casual and lets an agent disappear.

We entered the room and I cleared it, checking for anything physical—cuts, holes, anything left behind. Our own camera showed nothing. Silver scanned with her gear and nodded. No bugs she could detect.

“Okay, set up and get ready,” I said. She was already working it.

In moments, we had gear similar to what we’d stowed downstairs set up and ready to go. It was stashed in normal-looking luggage, and keyed so it would lock and jam if disturbed, making resale difficult. Had it gone, we’d be screwed whether it got sold or not, but I never want to give someone that satisfaction if I can avoid it. Stealing from me had consequences.

We ran right into the kind of time crunch I used to live for, and I admit I enjoyed it.

I had a phone cued for our actors. I saw them pull up outside the barricade, get directed to VIP parking, and roll in. Perfect.

Our emplaced camera rerun at high speed showed the overnight setup, as the cordon went in place, buildings and subsurface were scanned, searched and tagged, the red carpet was rolled out, literally, from a large drum. Some media had driven in early, but they were all household names in their venues and easily recognizable. I doubt they brought any local support, and if so, those would be heavily searched. I could bust that if I had to, but it would take some time I didn’t have, and I’d be more limited because I’d have to stay with a crew. I was better off here.

We caught up on the overnight as we followed the real time, then went straight to real time. We had our own sensors, five different video feeds and the official itinerary, and eyeballs through binox. For the video, I was more interested in background shots than talking heads. I watched the crowds and the movements. I had a comfortable chair and a bottle of water to sip. The weather was decent outside, not yet too hot, so the open window let in a dust and exhaust-scented breeze.

Vehicles stacked up, and I had to determine which to watch. In a motorcade, there will be the principal’s vehicle with him and his personal staff, another with his support staff, one with extra security goons, several vehicles in place to scatter as decoys in an emergency, and as many additional vehicles as deemed necessary for a person of that stature. If you see a head of state with a motorcade of thirty, there are only three vehicles you actually care about. I had this times nine major muckymucks, and tens of lesser personages in ’cades of five or less, or in simple chauffer driven limos.

We both scanned and marked and prioritized other potential targets, and zoomed in to ensure our people were there. I’d manage something if they weren’t, but I much preferred the time and money invested so far be productive.

The crowd built as the morning progressed. Our cast eased their way bit by bit forward until they were at the edge of the cordoned pathway. That was guarded by bored looking officers, who pretty much stood at the rope and made a visual barrier. The rope was stiffened, so no one could push too far in, and there didn’t seem any obvious trouble. There were protesters, in a gaggle across the street, holding placards and making speeches. However, unlike some other places, they were very physically polite, not getting in anyone’s way. Possibly they were afraid of a massive repercussion if they intruded, or it could be cultural. I couldn’t place them to any particular sect or party, except for “disaffected youth with middle-aged hangers on.”

The clock seemed to alternate between creep and race. The incoming crowd got bigger, additional press and observers queued up at checkpoints for clearance, and float platforms started rising.

Silver spoke while staring through her headset, “I spoofed the CNA codes and our floaters are IFFing as theirs. I have all three in cross angles.”

“Excellent. It’s almost time.”

Would this work? It could be a disaster several different ways.

“Here they come,” I said. Long lines of limos and escort trucks and police on zipcycles.

The security wasn’t bad. That is, it was functional instead of showy. The motorcades were timed and coordinated, and one that missed the cue just circled the square rather than wait. It pulled up, its occupant stepped out with his two associates, there was some cheering and waving, a few handshakes and up the concourse he went.

Alrab was next. I recognized the vehicles. There were five. He’d almost certainly be in the middle regardless. Point and Charlie were just blocks. I was right. Number Two pulled up, someone opened the door, and he stepped out.

Once up he waved. He turned, gestured the other way, then started a leisurely advance up the carpet. He wore a cheery smile, and his detail moved in around him.

Then ten men stepped over the rope and coalesced around him. The makeup was good enough to make target ID all but impossible.

Silver had her scanners running.

The media went berserk trying to figure out what was going on. Cameras on float platforms zoomed in from all over. The police stared stupidly for several seconds. This wasn’t an overt threat, and hours of standing had lulled them.

Alrab’s security went schizo and closed in in a box, then rushed him up the plaza into the building. The doubles did as we’d rehearsed, shook hands with people, smiled, talked about how great the day was. Three of them made it as far as the door. They were all apprehended, surprisingly peacefully, and Alrab was unharmed.

Phase One had gone well.

“I have possible traces,” Silver said.

“So now we watch the exit.”

One of my concerns was that the local security apparatus would be looking for people like us, especially after a potential threat of that kind. Our balcony was probably safe, and we sat well back inside looking through sheer fabric that would destroy incoming visibility. I wasn’t sure where off-worlders would fall on the threat list, though. They might be actively looking.

“Definitely him,” she said. “Upwind that way.” She nodded with her head, toward the east.

“That’s where the exit is going to be. He’ll have a narrow window as Alrab exits the building. At worst, he’ll have goons in the way. At best, complete exposure from those windows there.”

“Unless he’s using remote eyes and some kind of flight warhead. He has better access to the black market than we do.”

“Crap. You’re right.”

“This fits with it being a stale trace. He set stuff in place, but isn’t going to be on hand for the kill this time.”

“Neither should we. Where would he get those devices?”

“There are only three makers, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I am.”

“ArthroLogic is in the Freehold, AnimaWings come from Stoltze BioTech—those are gene mod insects with micro implants, and Spy Gnats come from Kaman on Earth.”

“He’d be more familiar with Arthro, I presume, but Stoltze stuff is ubermodern, which fits his persona.”

“Okay, do you want me to check purchase orders?”

“Can’t hurt, though I doubt they went to him. If we’re able to snag one we can try to ID it. I do want you to look for residue now and after exit.”

“What are we doing about the exit?”

“Nothing. I’m going to trust his now-aware security, and look for Randall.”

I used the telescopic camera and swept that building, looking for anything suspicious in line with the concourse. There were people at windows and balconies in the surrounding buildings, but none of them were him.

So, I used it to zoom for possible insects or drones. We had our mock birds on a cornice, but any lead time was helpful. When Alrab came out, Silver would launch it, but if we knew where to send it, that would increase our probability of success.

There were definitely dronesects in the area, but some were probably media, some commercial espionage devices, some security . . . there was just no way to control everything that went on. As I’d told the Captain at Caledonia’s station, welcome to my world.

Three hours went by with no significant information.

“They’re heading out now,” she said.

“Got it.” I strained to see anything.

Our bird was powercell driven to reduce noise. She dropped in a sweep, ran up the drive, batted several bugs from the air, both real and recon, and was identified. One of Alrab’s guards frowned in disgust rather than fear, but they hurried the man into his car.

“They’re killing the bugs and birds, but I still have our media cams,” she said.

“Good.”

So, now I needed to watch his car.

All the supplicants came out, each into their respective motorcades. Could Randall be staff in one of those? Hired on to some other entourage? Given the backwardness of this place, entirely possible. There were so many liveried and unliveried retainers running around, I could have walked out there with the right jacket and attitude. I watched Alrab’s car, looking for someone to place a charge. I zoomed back and looked for someone to shoot. We had sonar and radar ready to track any shots.

Then I’d be on him like a fly on a fresh steamer.

The vehicles were not an official convoy, but they were in line and left pretty much in order, the drivers queuing up and pacing for both security and comfort, and then into a showy formation, each one sweeping the long drive and out onto the road. I relaxed slightly. Moving targets are a harder shot, and the drones were probably out of the equation. We’d compromised everyone when ours was seen.