November 14, 2070—Friday (later)
03 August 06 - 5:52 pm
So, research on Manning and this wetwork team. Jerk found some references to an elf gillette named Sylvan running a group called The Cleaners, composed of a hacker (named Angel), a mage (Xenu) and a second gun (Tobias). There were hints on where to find their brag sheet and some buzz about an unfortunate incident in South America where they had failed to hit a political figure.
As for Manning, she is an executive projects research manager for PacTech. She and her project have lots of funding, so she’s a promising up-and-comer. She lives on north side of downtown in very nice planned community. Hoping to locate her over the wireless, Jerk tried to call her with Malychek’s spoofed commlink, but it turned out she has blocked all calls from him after work hours.
“Here, Jerk let me try,” Delta suggested. “It looks as through she likes opera. Geez, how paranoid can she be if she lists that sort of thing on her public profile? Can you set it up so it looks like I’m calling from the Seattle Municipal Opera?”
“Feel no way, dawta. I and I linked up.”
“Thanks.” A pause as she waited for Manning to answer, then she put on a bubbly secretary voice. “Hi! This is Becky from the Seattle Municipal Opera. Our records show that you often purchase tickets for our performances, so we wanted to be sure that you were aware of a new production of Faust coming up in January.”
Jerk’s expression was remote with concentration, but by the time Delta finished her spiel his eyes had snapped back to reality and he gave a thumbs-up. Got her! Del wrapped up her conversation quickly and cheerfully.
“Damn!” she whistled. “She really is paranoid. She had voice altering software engaged until I identified myself. So where is she, Jerk?”
“It seem to be a place called Club Denim.”
“Ooh!” I said. “Up for a night on the town, kids?”
Sadly it turned out that only Delta and Lou got to go into the club, separately of course. Jerk skated in on their commlinks while Tomi and I cooled our heels outside in the hover van. Hitomi was also looking through her husband’s eyes, so she could at least report what was going on to me. The club was smallish and padded floor-to-ceiling in denim. Cute. It was crowded, but had no line outside. Heavily remixed Darwin’s Bastards was audible even outside.
“He’s found her,” Tomi said. “Hrmph. She would be a Nordic goddess, wouldn’t she? Really tall, platinum blonde hair, and severe business suit in an unflattering minty green. Lou, stop looking so hard! She’s got mirror shades on. Looks like a high-tech visual display.”
“She’s got to have bodyguards,” I said. “Do you see anyone around?”
“Oh yeah. They’re not even trying to be subtle. There are three trolls in black suits just standing about scanning the area.”
Jerk broke into our muttered conversation: “Mi hack de gurl’s PAN, mebbe leave a likkle message, mebbe im give I and I a call?”
“Okay, man,” I said. “Just be careful. We don’t want to make Manning any more paranoid than she already is.”
“I wonder what she’s doing here,” Lou’s voice sounded suddenly in my ear. “She’s not enjoying herself, despite her party-girl behavior. In fact, she’s in a pretty sour mood.”
“Probably hiding out in public,” Delta mused. “She knows someone is after her. Why else bother with the bodyguards?”
“Hee! How about to shoo away unwanted drunken attention?” giggled Hitomi. “Look!”
Delta snorted. “Expensive personal bouncers, those.”
“Frag it,” I groused. “I’d rather be shooing off my own unwanted drunken attention right now than listen to it happen second-hand to someone else. This sucks. I can think of a million better ways to be spending a Friday night than sitting outside a hopping club waiting for nothing to happen.”
“Oh, quit your fussing, renard fou,” Lou said. “She’s heading out of the club now. They’ll be in your territory soon enough. Look sharp.”
“I see them,” I said. “We’ll tail them at a discreet distance for a bit, see where she goes.”
I pulled the hover-van out about a block behind Manning’s coupe and kept her in my sights. Sadly, we didn’t get very far before we encountered one of her bruisers. He was stationed at the end of an alley, just waiting for us. He very politely but firmly asked us to knock it the hell off and find our own way home. I need to find out what agency these guys work for; they’re good.
“Sorry luck, there, Lou,” I said over the commlink. “Maybe you can do better?” But a few minutes later Lou reported that his watcher had only made it a few blocks before another of the troll bodyguards had turned and politely threatened him too. We’re going to have to find some other way to get to her.
We regrouped at the Rasta-Van where Jerk announced he’d successfully gained access to Manning’s PAN.
“But smadi dideh already. Im got admin come een like I and I.”
I shrugged. “I guess that’s not much of a surprise, if these Cleaners are as good as—drek! Hit the brakes, Jerk!” A crude road block of concrete pylons suddenly loomed ahead and a ganger in a ski-mask stood behind it, gesturing us to stop. Jerk slowed the van.
“Fraggers shaking us down for toll money,” I growled. “Just let me get my hands on him.” I tugged open the top buttons of my blouse and leaned out the window invitingly.
“Hey there, tough guy,” I sang out breathily. “You looking for a good time tonight?”
He hesitated but didn’t dropped his hostile stance. “We’re collecting the toll for this district,” he called. “If you can’t pay, we’ll have to impound your vehicle.”
“Aw, come on, baby,” I pouted. “Maybe a kiss or a little something else will do instead?”
His teeth flashed savagely. “Maybe my friends and I will take a little something else anyway. After we take your money and your van. Now get out of the vehicle, slitch!”
At that moment as my vision started turning red, Lou’s snake-dog spirit manifested behind him and screeched to wake the dead. The ganger started visibly and glanced over his shoulder. Hitomi wrenched the van door open and, leaping out, sent two stray bullets over the ganger’s head.
“Hands off, Tomi,” I bellowed. “That son of a bitch is mine!” My first shot went through his hip, the second, his throat. I laughed in exultation as he fell like a rag doll. “You should treat a lady better, you sick fragger,” I screamed at his corpse.
“Fox!” Delta called. “He’s got friends!” Sure enough, two more meat-heads came around the corner of a building, joined by a filthy, ragged spirit with flat, red eyes and a metal pipe.
“Good!” I said, loud enough for them to hear. “That first one just whetted my appetite anyway. Time for the main course!”
“Fox girl, you are messed up,” Delta muttered as she prepped her pistol. Gunfire spattered back and forth and I heard Hitomi cry out in pain. She couldn’t have been damaged too badly, though, because before I had a chance to join the fray, she had perforated one of the gangers thoroughly and Lou’s snake-dog had reduced the other to shreds. An instant later, the enemy spirit disappeared as well, and we found ourselves in sudden silence but for the distant sounds of a live grunge band at a trog club a few blocks away.
“Well, that was refreshing!” I said, settling back into my seat and holstering my pistol with a flourish. “What was that you were saying about Manning’s PAN, Jerk?”
“Gwan go maas, gal,” he responded with a sad, sidelong look. “Mi fayva I and I like Halloweener in de traffic cams.”
“Yeah, I have an area jammer on,” Delta said. “That trash was part of the Ancients gang, a Tir-based go-gang, in case anyone is interested.”
“Thanks for the civics lesson, Del,” Hitomi said as she limped toward the van’s open side door. “Baby, you think I could get a patch-up here?”
By the time Lou finished tending Tomi’s wounds, Jerk had finished modifying the camera records and sent me a copy of Manning’s schedule for the next week. Her weekend was quiet since she planned to work from home, but she was expected at the office for a big meeting on Monday. She had taken Tuesday afternoon off in order to attend a matinee debut of some avant-garde opera, and on Wednesday she was leaving the country for Tir na nOg. That explained why the hit had to be carried out by then.
“I’ve got headshots of all the Cleaners,” Delta said suddenly. She had evidently been in touch with her fixer. “Let’s see here, we’ve got Sylvan—unworldly looking fragger, isn’t he—Angel, Xenu, and—ooh, here’s a lovely chap—Tobias. It’s not much, but at least we’ve got a place to start.”
“So we could possibly pick them out in a crowd now,” Hitomi said, “but what crowd are we looking in? Where are they going to hit?”
“My money’s on the opera,” I ventured. “We should try to scope out the opera house beforehand, see where there are potential security gaps. If we want to go in posing as legit audience members, we can go to—let’s see—Die Fledermaus is showing Saturday and Sunday evenings, or else—ooh! On Monday afternoon they are allowing the public in to see the final dress rehearsal of that new opera Manning’s got tickets for. Sounds perfect. Jerk, can you put us on the guest list?”
“Already done, dawta.”
“So what’s this opera about?” Delta asked.
“Hmmm… a ‘re-envisioning of the Night of Rage.’ Sounds cheery.”
“Right,” Delta said decisively. “This weekend, everyone do whatever prep you need to for this op. We’ll meet again Monday morning to coordinate our reconnaissance. For now, though, I’m ready to go home.”
“Not me!” I grinned fiercely. “Drop me off at a club somewhere, Jerk my darling. My blood’s only just started pumping.”
He did. I spent the rest of the night dancing myself into a lather and breaking at least two young and feverish hearts in the process. Not a bad day, all in all.
kathleen - one comment - Permalink
