CHAPTER 45

The ride out of the sandstorm was interesting, to say the least. Nat, Addy, and Tapper took a tow lift up onto the hovering Cavalier, where they found one of Xi’s goons unconscious and a bit bruised in one of the ship’s corridors, as well as a big man looking shaken in the co-pilot seat next to an in-his-element Eli Brody.

Getting the thugs off the ship and into Gwen’s custody only took a few minutes, and the CalSec agent seemed a bit gleeful at the pile of bodies she’d amassed – in the end, she locked them all in the connecting compartment while she sat in the car full of money.

“Maintaining the chain of evidence,” she said, before shooing them away with a promise that she’d heavily edit the official report.

Brody seemed his usual confident self as he waited for them to take their seats. “It’ll be easier on the way out. I think I’ve basically figured out how to fly through this thing.”

Tapper, who’d taken the lead on escorting the bigger of Xi’s goons out the door, looked skeptical but buckled in behind Brody nonetheless. Addy, who’d stopped to give the pilot a firm squeeze of the shoulder, took the seat behind Nat.

“The band’s back together again,” said Brody, glancing behind him with a grin. “Everybody got all their belongings? Because we are definitely not coming back here.”

At their vociferous assent he threw the throttle open and sent them rocketing back up into the maelstrom.

Calling the ride “bumpy” was an understatement. The Cavalier was tossed about like it was in an industrial mixer, and the onboard compensators did little to buffer them against the impact of the winds. Even Tapper, who as a marine had spent his fair share of time on drop ships, was starting to look a bit green around the collar by the time they finally broached the sandstorm back into Caledonia’s pale blue sky.

The first order of business was to report Gwen’s whereabouts. The agent had been very specific that they speak only to Agent Liang. Apparently previous attempts to take action against the Coire Ansic had resulted in CalSec’s agents ending up dead or simply disappearing – a result they could now conjecture came from the organization’s connections with the Illyricans. CalSec might have jurisdiction for local law enforcement, but they were still on an Imperium-controlled world, which meant a requirement to share all their information with Illyrican agencies. Including both Fleet Security and IIS.

Still, the whole imbroglio left Nat with at least one outstanding question: Where had the Coire Ansic gotten so many Commonwealth credits? Who was the connection Flores had mentioned?

At least she had an inkling of where to start looking. She turned to the console beside her and pulled out the bangle she’d appropriated from Ofeibia Xi. Connecting it to the Cavalier prompted her for a password, so she set one of her cracking programs to the task and swiveled to face the rest of the team.

They’d done well, all things considered, and, more to the point, they were all still in one piece. She caught Tapper’s eye and the old sergeant seemed to sense her thoughts, giving her a nod and something that might have passed for a wink.

“So,” said Addy, unbuckling as the ship stabilized. “Where to now? We’ve stolen from spaceliners and trains… should we go find a boat or something?”

“Just, whatever we do, not back to Juarez 7A,” said Tapper, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just don’t think I can take the rain.”

Brody cleared his throat as he activated the Cavalier’s autopilot and spun around to face them, a rare look of uncertainty on his face. “Actually,” he said, scratching his head awkwardly, “if we don’t have any immediate plans, I’d like to make a stop up north. There’s somebody I should go see while I’m here.” His eyes darted to Addy, then away, as he looked somehow even more abashed. “And I wouldn’t mind some company.”

The small coastal village of Berwick didn’t really have a spaceport, so Brody set the ship down in an open field a couple kilometers outside the town.

The pilot had explained en route that his sister lived in a home here with a caretaker; he didn’t spell it out but it seemed clear that she’d been dealing with some challenges for a while now. Belatedly, the pilot extended an invitation to Nat and Tapper to join them, but it wasn’t hard to tell it was halfhearted, so both demurred to let Brody and Addy have some time alone.

Nat, for her part, took the opportunity to dig through her network feeds. Caledonia was, at least, on the main relays, though being on an Illyrican colony world did make some Commonwealth sources harder to access.

But a news report about a trio of fugitives on Nova was still big enough to reach this side of the bottleneck, including grainy images of the three clearly captured from a security camera.

Her heart thumped at the picture of Simon, but there was no subsequent indication that any of them had been apprehended. So they were still at large, and still presumably in need of their help.

Tapper grunted, reading the news over her shoulder. “Gonna take more than some desk jockey like Kester to bring them in.”

“You think they’re still on Nova?”

“The boss doesn’t like to leave a job unfinished. Yeah, I’d wager they’re there somewhere, laying low.” He gave a rueful smile. “Probably not so low, let’s be honest.”

Nat’s fingers rippled across the console, tapping out a drumbeat.

“You want to go back,” said Tapper.

“Is it that obvious?”

The older man shrugged. “I don’t blame you. Getting clear of the mess was the right move at the time, but now it just feels like we’re sitting around twiddling our thumbs while the action’s back there.”

“Going back is risky – for all of us.”

“Yeah, sure, but risk is kind of our job. Sayers, even Brody, they’d volunteer in a heartbeat.”

Nat ran a hand through her hair. It had gone stringy with sand and sweat; she could definitely use a shower, even if it was in the Cav’s often janky and frequently warm-water-at-best refresher unit. “Logistics wise, it seems like Maldonado’s transponder system could get us back onto Nova undetected. And those identities we pulled should still be clean, even if they’re a bit thin.”

Tapper leaned back in his chair, interlacing his hands behind his head. “Seems like you’ve already thought it through. But I’d expect nothing less from you, commander.”

Nat got up and stretched her arms, then gave an experimental sniff. Yeah, she could definitely use a shower. “I’m going to hit the refresher. When Brody and Sayers get back, we can get under way.”

The Cav’s shower lived up to its reputation – icy cold with intermittent spurts of water – but Nat still felt better afterwards, especially after she pulled on one of the clean sets of spare clothes from her footlocker and tossed her bedraggled garments in the ship’s onboard laundry processor.

Tapper was still sitting in the cockpit when she got back. He nodded to a light flashing on the communications console. “Two things: I think your decryption on Xi’s whatchmacallit there finished. And we got a message from Gwen that you’re going to want to see.”

Nat leaned over and tapped a control; a holographic screen flickered to life, showing the CalSec agent sitting at a desk somewhere – not still on the gravtrain, thank goodness. “Thanks for the assist again, old man. We’ve got Flores, Xi, and all their people in custody and I’m just waiting for the paperwork to come through on their charges. Here’s hoping we’ll have them locked down for a while to come.

“Flores wanted to cut a deal and turn on everybody, but given that he’s near the top of the food chain, all he has is that vague description of the Illyrican that he dealt with.” Gwen shook her head, her red curls bouncing. “The crims set him up perfectly. But he did have one thing to share that I thought might be of interest to you. The contact who supplied him with the credits? Flores says he heard the guy worked out of the Commonwealth embassy in Raleigh City.” She raised her eyebrows significantly. “Figured that might help you track him down. Anyway, this report’s going to be a bear, but it won’t be the first time I’ve had to… elide some details.” She coughed meaningfully, then her eyes darted offscreen. “I gotta run, but thanks again. And tell Brody he still owes me a dinner.”

The screen vanished, leaving Nat and Tapper eyeing each other.

“We need to pull the list of embassy person –”

“Already done,” said Tapper, fanning his hand to spread out a series of thumbnail images on a holoscreen. “I was just going through them. Flores said the guy was blond and – I’m using his words here – ‘weaselly’, but so far I can’t find anybody who fits even that broad description.”

Nat chewed on her bottom lip, then checked Xi’s bracelet. As Tapper had said, the decryption had finished, so she pulled up the images that the syndicate leader’s surveillance had captured of the meet with Flores. “Him,” she said, pointing to the blurry figure standing behind Flores. There was just a smudge of light-colored hair, and from what she could tell about the man’s build, it was on the slighter side. There were other images on the bracelet from the meet, and she cycled through them, but none provided a clearer picture of their target – he definitely hadn’t been Xi’s primary interest.

Tapper scanned through the images again and shook his head. “Double check me, but none of these look right.”

Nat flipped through them as well, but the sergeant’s assessment was correct. The Commonwealth’s diplomatic presence on Caledonia wasn’t huge – only about fifty people. A couple of the men did come close; she stopped on one with brown hair and freckles, but even from the blurry images, the shape of the face was wrong.

She pulled up the roster again. “Let’s try a different approach. Who would have access to that much cash on hand?”

Tapper blew out his cheeks. “Only a few people. The ambassador, probably, and the deputy chief of mission. But it clearly isn’t either of them. I checked their immediate staff too.”

“What about the CID station chief?” said Nat. “They’d be able to move a lot of cash quietly.”

“Yeah, but there isn’t one right now,” said Tapper slowly. “CID canned Walter Danzig after the Caledonian op we ran here, almost two years ago.”

Nat raised her eyebrows. “What if Flores’s contact did work at the embassy…”

“But doesn’t anymore,” Tapper finished her sentence, his hands already flying over the console. “Here’s the records of embassy personnel who have left in the last two years.” There were only ten or so, and the winner was easily apparent. Tapper brought up his personnel record image and it filled the holographic screen. The sergeant huffed out a slow breath, his eyes widening; Nat’s breath caught in her own throat as well: the face, which had rang a slight bell at its thumbnail size, set off an entire clocktower at fullscreen.

“Fuck me,” said Tapper. “I knew he looked familiar.”

“Recall Brody and Sayers right the hell now,” said Nat, moving to the co-pilot seat and starting the Cavalier’s pre-flight. “We need to get to Nova before it’s too late.” But the knot rising rapidly in her throat made her wonder if it already was.