They arrived with the end-of-day commuter rush, under the nearly invisible membrane that shielded the Martian People’s Collective Republic from the extremes of the Martian climate. For all Lincoln’s nervous sweating and loss of sleep the night before, the journey in had turned out to be nearly effortless. Elliot escorted them the entire way, without taking any apparent measures to conceal their connection. In fact, he openly, actively advertised it. It was obvious the man was a frequent visitor to all the main travel ports. The only minor scare came when a customs agent approached and without explanation pulled them out of the line and asked them to follow him. As it turned out, the agent was friendly with Elliot, and whisked all six of them through a special expedited line. Elliot explained how Lincoln and his companions were in town to evaluate the MPCR as a potential location for expanding their business, but it came out through small talk rather than any sort of official inquiry.
If Elliot’s manner gave the impression he was unconcerned with drawing attention, his “safehouse” did nothing to dispel the notion. When he’d told them the apartment was in the financial district, Lincoln assumed he’d meant in the cheapest part of town. Like most assumptions, that had turned out to be grossly mistaken. Elliot’s safehouse was in prime territory, in a towering apartment complex that looked like it wanted everyone who saw it to know it belonged amongst the most lavish buildings in the entire district.
“You think the taxpayers know about this?” Mike whispered as they stared up at the facility.
“I hope not,” Lincoln said. “And I don’t think we should tell them.”
The group took a lift to the ninth floor. It was so quiet and fast that Lincoln wouldn’t have realized they’d moved, if not for the numerical display catapulting from G to 9. Elliot took them to apartment 919. When he swung the door open, Thumper let out an uncharacteristic and involuntary curse. Elliot ushered them in with the gracious air of a generous and humble host.
“Sorry it’s only a two-bedroom deal,” Elliot said, as he closed the door behind them. “Usually we only use it for one primary, plus either a security or interrogation team.”
The apartment didn’t disappoint. Standing in the entryway, Lincoln immediately felt like he should take off his shoes. The team fanned out to inspect their new, sadly temporary home. And while it was true that it was “only” a two-bedroom affair, each bedroom was cavernous. All five of the Outriders could have bunked together in one of them, and still considered it obscenely luxurious compared to what they were used to.
“This is uh…” Thumper said, “maybe not the most inconspicuous place in town, yeah?”
“More than you might think,” Elliot said. “A fair number of CEOs and political types spend a lot of their time in the district. This is where they bring all their mistresses and boytoys.”
“Ugh,” Sahil said, the first time Lincoln could ever remember him expressing an opinion.
Elliot shrugged. “Makes for amazingly incurious neighbors. Everyone’s real polite and stays out of everyone else’s way. Well, except for one lady up on the fourteenth floor. Pretty sure she’s rich, retired, and bored. A real busybody, always up in everyone’s business.”
“And you’re not worried about her?” Wright asked.
“Nah,” Elliot said. He flashed his grin. “She’s on my payroll.”
“You got a place here, too?” Mike asked.
“Me? Pff, no, I’ve got a studio over in the cheap part of town. I’d bet you’d be surprised at how little we civil servants make.”
“Not that surprised,” Mike said.
“Speaking of which, I’ve got a couple of things I need to check on around town. I’ll let you guys get settled in. Fridge is stocked, dishes are clean. I’ll stop back in a couple of hours?”
“Sounds good,” Lincoln said.
“Make yourselves at home,” Elliot said. “Try not to get in any trouble. At least until tomorrow.”
“Roger that,” Lincoln replied.
After Elliot left, the team went through their usual routine for setting up in a new location; they went through the apartment checking the doors and windows, noting vulnerabilities and escape routes, talking through the best use of each room, getting a general feel of the place. Once that was completed, Wright and Mike went out again together to scout the surroundings; elevators, stairwells, general layout of the floors above and below. Lincoln and Sahil handled getting their gear moved and unloaded, while Thumper got to work setting Veronica up in the apartment’s study. The fact that the apartment had a study was not lost on any of them. Of all the assignments Lincoln had ever been on, he knew there was no way anyone back home would let him complain about it, no matter how hard the work actually was.
When Mike and Wright returned, they raided the fridge and threw together a quick meal, sketching rough ideas for how to handle the approach to their objectives while they ate. By the time Elliot returned, the team was already gathered around Veronica, looking at imagery of the target facility and marking up routes and locations for their surveillance op. Elliot joined the session in progress.
“That’s your first objective?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Lincoln said. “We tracked a signal back to here. Pretty sure this is the origin point for command-and-control we’re after.”
“Probably going to be a four-man job, at least,” Wright said.
“Oh, well…” Elliot said. “I’m pretty sure we can get it done with three.”
The whole team went still. Wright wasn’t sensitive about being contradicted, but there was no question that she had an eye and a mind for tactical planning. Lincoln doubted Elliot had anything like the experience necessary to be able to make that sort of call, and even if he did, Lincoln wouldn’t ever trust the Directorate officer’s judgment over that of his master sergeant.
“How do you figure that?” Lincoln asked, hoping he didn’t sound completely dismissive.
“Because me and two of you makes three?” Elliot said. He let it hang in the air for dramatic effect, and then added with a smile, “I know a guy.”
“You know a guy?” Wright said.
“Yeah,” he said. “Well, a lady, actually. That’s Manes-King Quantum? Out in the north quarter?”
“It is,” Lincoln said. “You’re familiar with it?”
“Sure. Their chief of security is a buddy of mine.”
“You’re kidding me,” Wright said.
Elliot shook his head. “No joke. Selah Coulibaly. She’s great. One of the first contacts I cultivated when I got here, in fact. When I met her, she was just an analyst for uh… oh who was it? I forget now. They were small time, got bought up by Manes-King.” He looked at the floor, trying to come up with the name of the company.
“She’s an asset?” Wright asked, prompting him to continue.
“Oh no,” Elliot said. “Just a friend.” He chuckled to himself, and then shook his head. “Actually, I was trying to get her to go out on a date with me. By the time I’d worked up the nerve to actually ask, she’d already had my intentions pegged for like six weeks. But she had a good sense of humor about it. Anyway. You know where you need to get in the facility?”
“Not exactly,” Thumper said. “I’d been assuming getting on site was going to be the hard part.”
“But the people you’re after, they’re in there somewhere?” Elliot asked.
“Not the people, no,” Thumper answered. “They’re running remote access to Manes-King’s on-demand comm system. I need access to hardware that’s managing that traffic. If I can get to that, Veronica can crawl it from there, get us to what we need.”
“Oh,” Elliot said. “I’d assumed you were after the bad guys.”
“That’d be a nice-to-have, certainly,” Lincoln said. “But our priority is recovering the asset.”
“Oh OK, got it,” Elliot answered, nodding. “You just need access to the array farm.”
Thumper nodded.
“The part of the facility they keep under tightest control,” he continued.
Thumper shrugged and then nodded.
“The one place they guarantee their vast client base is absolutely, one hundred percent secure and tamperproof,” he said.
“Sounds like the one,” Thumper said.
“Sure,” Elliot said. “Let me give her a call, see what I can work out.”
“Kind of late, isn’t it?” Mike asked as Elliot was stepping out of the room, but Elliot just waved a hand like it was no big deal. A few moments later, they could hear him talking, words indistinct through the door of one of the bedrooms.
“It can’t be that easy,” Wright said.
“Another lucky break?” Lincoln said.
“We never get two on the same op,” Wright said. “And even when we get one, it usually only gets us in trouble.”
“Give him a chance, Mir,” Sahil said. He had his chair tipped on its back legs, and was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. “He’s been at this a long time.”
“Maybe so,” Wright said, turning back to the images on Veronica’s display, “but we’re still posting up. No way we’re going in with just three. And I’m not counting him as one.”
The team waited around for a few minutes until Elliot reappeared.
“All right, all set,” he said. “You, and you,” he pointed to Lincoln and Thumper in turn, “have an appointment with Ms Coulibaly at 10 am tomorrow. I told her you guys are thinking about expanding, but are concerned about maintaining the security of a high-availability system, and that I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to see her. I didn’t mention the array farm. That might be too much of an ask even in person. We’ll see how it plays when we get there. I’m positive she’s not going to give away any secrets about how they run their systems, but I think we can get you on the right floor at least.”
“Just like that,” Wright said. She wasn’t being openly hostile, but it was clear to everyone in the room that she wasn’t going to go along unless she could confirm for herself the viability of the plan.
“Just like that,” Elliot replied, with a half shrug. “If we can’t get the work done when you’re inside, at least you can get a look around, see what you’re dealing with. Though, I gotta be honest. If you can’t get what you need while we’re there, I don’t envy you the job of trying to get back in. Selah’s top notch.”
“And you don’t have any issue betraying your friend’s trust?” Wright asked.
“For my country?” Elliot said. “Would you?” In response, Wright’s eyes narrowed and her lips disappeared in a tight, thin line. After a moment Elliot smiled to take the edge off the comment, even though it had obviously had its intended effect.
“Anyone ever tell you the way you operate kind of makes it seem like you might be involved in some sort of organized crime?” Thumper asked.
Elliot looked at her, still smiling. “Anyone ever tell you that the way the government operates would be organized crime, if only they weren’t the ones making the rules?” He waved his hand back at Veronica’s display. “Anyway, I do think it’s a good idea for you to get out there and do some ground work on your own. Never hurts to double-check and plan contingencies. What’s the delivery mechanism for whatever it is you need to do to the farm?”
Thumper sat back and ran her hand back and forth over her head a few times, thinking it over.
“Physical access would be best,” she said. “Barring that… I might be able to do it with a skeeter. That’s going to take longer, though.”
“How long?”
“Eight, ten minutes. Depending on their protocols.”
“Better count on twenty, then,” Elliot said.
“Then I’ll take two,” Thumper replied.
“Getting any gear in is going to be tricky, so it’d be good to travel light.”
“Always is,” Lincoln replied. “You have any fancy spy gear you can hook us up with? Shoes with secret compartments, laser watches, that sort of thing?”
“I’m not that kind of spy. And I kind of figured you’d brought your own.”
“I’m working on a list now,” Thumper interjected.
“And I’m going out to take a look,” Wright said, getting to her feet. “Link, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be walking around up there before tomorrow.”
It was a good call. No need to risk getting noticed casing the joint, when he’d be getting an up-close-and-personal view in the morning. It was a key part to the functioning of the team that Lincoln didn’t feel the need to discuss the point or put his stamp of approval on it. And an equal part was the fact that even though she’d made it a statement, Wright showed her respect for his position by waiting for him to officially release her to get to work.
“Keep your head down out there,” Lincoln said.
Wright nodded, and headed for the door. “Mike, Sahil, you’re with me.”
The three of them departed, leaving Thumper, Elliot, and Lincoln with the job of working out the details for their morning appointment. Lincoln understood why he had to go in, but there was no denying he would have much preferred to be working the perimeter. Instead, he spent the next few hours at a table, devising a plan to get the necessary gear through security.
Selah Coulibaly was a tall, dark-skinned woman, six feet or possibly a hair under, with the long, elegant grace of a ballerina and eyes that were unsettlingly like those of a panther, not in color but in subdued ferocity. She met them in the large, marbled lobby of the Manes-King facility, and embraced Elliot warmly. Despite the welcome, Lincoln felt exposed, vulnerable from every angle. This wasn’t how he was used to working, and judging from the woman in front of him, a single mistake could easily blow the whole operation. And already he felt that walking through the front door might have been a mistake.
The rest of the team was outside the facility on the distant perimeter, with a standard obstruct and escape plan in case things went wrong, but from the inside Lincoln was no longer confident they’d be able to make it far enough out to matter.
“Selah,” Elliot said. “Thank you for doing this. I know it’s a hassle.”
“Not at all, Elliot,” she answered. “It’s nice to have an excuse to see you on the clock. It’s been too long.”
He nodded. “Been traveling a lot lately. Hoping it’ll slow down here soon.” He stepped back and offered the black box he had tucked under one arm. “A small thank you.”
“Hmm, this looks familiar. And completely unnecessary,” she said, but she accepted the gift anyway, and held it to an ear as she shook it gently. “And I hope not too expensive to be a small thank you.”
“A medium-sized one, then,” Elliot replied. “Mr Kim here actually insisted on it.”
Elliot drew Lincoln and Thumper into the moment by waving them closer, introducing them by their assumed identities. “Allison Cooper and Simon Kim, from Ready Vector Solutions.”
When Selah shook Lincoln’s hand, whatever affection she had for Elliot seemed to have transferred directly to them; it was more personal than professional. He almost felt guilty for the false name.
“Ms Cooper, Mr Kim, a pleasure.”
“You can just call me Allison,” Thumper said.
“And Simon, please,” Lincoln added.
“Very well. Simon, Allison. Thank you for this,” she said, holding up the gift.
Lincoln tipped his head in a shadow of a bow, “The least we could do, for your generosity on such short notice. Elliot advised us on the selection.”
“I’m sure it’s extravagant almost to the point of ostentatious, then,” she said with a smile. “Follow me, I’ll take you back.”
She led them through the access control point and had them sign in as visitors. While they filled out some standard documentation agreeing that they wouldn’t reveal any details of their visit under threat of stiff legal penalties, Selah chatted amicably with the security personnel manning the station. From their interaction, Lincoln could tell she was personally familiar with her staff and had a sharp mind for details. She was also apparently well-liked by her subordinates. That was all likely a bad sign for their chances of infiltrating later. If she took that much care with her staff, he could only imagine what she’d done for the facility as a whole.
When they had completed the documents, Selah directed them to pass through a small chamber.
“You can keep everything in your pockets,” she said. “The scanner’s just going to do a quick inventory. We won’t restrict your communications while we’re here, but this just lets us keep track of traffic coming in and out of the facility. No recording devices I should know about?”
“I already told them,” Elliot said.
“I assumed you had,” Selah replied, and then added with a smile, “but I never assume.”
“We’re not here for pictures, Ms Coulibaly,” Lincoln said.
“Selah, please. Friends of Elliot’s are friends of mine.”
“You scan all your friends?” Elliot said.
“Every one,” she answered.
Elliot went first, followed by Thumper, with Lincoln bringing up the rear. He tried not to hold his breath.
“I don’t know why, but these things always make me nervous,” he said as he passed through. He and Thumper were both carrying disassembled components of a control device, each element disguised as typical pocket litter. As far as he could tell, nothing registered on the scan. Once they were all through, Selah waved for them to follow her, but then stopped.
“Oops, one second,” she said, and took the gift Elliot had given her over to the security station for the guards to run through a scanner.
“You’re kidding me,” Elliot said.
“Surely you understand, my dear,” Selah said. “What kind of example would I be setting if I didn’t follow my own rules?”
Lincoln tried not to panic. The only devices they couldn’t disassemble were the skeeters, and they were both hidden in the gift. The present had been carefully chosen, and wrapped identically to one Elliot had given her before. Elliot’s expectation was that, given their relationship and Selah’s familiarity with the package, it would escape further scrutiny. It was why he’d made a point to present the gift to her in the lobby, knowing that she wouldn’t pass through the checkpoint. Apparently he had either underestimated her zealousness for her job, or overestimated the level of trust he’d developed with her.
The devices were Martian-manufactured, supplied by Elliot, modified to suit Thumper’s purposes. Elliot swore they were as good as the Outriders’ usual gear, and safer on the remote chance they should happen to be discovered. It looked likely they were about to test that theory. The skeeters were small, deactivated, and shielded against most standard spectra, but they weren’t invisible. About the only hope they had now was that the original social engineering plan would still work on the security guards, that maybe they’d run only a cursory scan, expecting that any personal friends of the Chief of Security would assuredly be trustworthy.
At least, that’s what Lincoln had assumed. Apparently Elliot had other plans.
“Well, can you at least let me take the microdrone out of it before you scan it then?” Elliot said.
Selah laughed, but Elliot held out his hand and motioned for her to hand it over. The Chief of Security’s humor drained away, and she held her place. Lincoln had no idea what to do.
The two security guards exchanged a look, like they had no idea what to do either. Elliot was the only one who seemed unconcerned.
“Give it here,” he said.
Selah walked over slowly and handed him the box, the look on her face unreadable.
“I told you she was top notch,” Elliot said, to Lincoln and Thumper as he opened the gift. It was a twenty year-old Scotch, one that Selah had a special love for. Elliot removed the bottle from the container. Lincoln still didn’t know what the play here was.
“Hold this,” he said, handing Selah the black box. Sure enough, to Lincoln’s surprise and Thumper’s obvious discomfort, he casually removed the false bottom from the bottle that they had so painstakingly prepared the night before, and then drew out the two flat disks hidden inside. They were each about the size of a large coin.
Elliot held them up between thumb and forefinger. But no, Lincoln saw now, not two. Only one. He had no idea where the second one had gone, even though he’d been watching Elliot the whole time. The man had a magician’s hands.
“Sorry, it was probably a stupid idea,” Elliot said. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
He flipped the disk to her, and she snatched it out of the air one-handed.
“It was a stupid idea,” Selah said. “That’s not funny, Elliot.”
“I know, Selah, I’m sorry. It didn’t even occur to me what that might look like… I just thought you’d like to check one out, and thought I was being clever.”
She held the disk flat on her palm and studied it briefly.
“How does it work?” she asked.
“That one won’t,” Elliot said. “It’s a demo model, not a live one. I’m not that stupid.”
Selah looked up at him, and studied him for a moment, and then shifted her eyes over to Lincoln and Thumper. Judging them. Lincoln stood very, very still. In this case, he didn’t have to feign the shock he was feeling. He still couldn’t believe Elliot had blown the whole op before it’d even started.
“I’m sorry, Mr Kim,” Elliot said. “I should’ve told you.”
“Or,” Lincoln said, picking up the cue, “not have done such a thing at all.”
Selah watched them for a span longer. Finally, she shook her head and took the box and the skeeter to the security guards and had them scan both. Fortunately in its deactivated state, the microdrone wouldn’t give off a signal of any kind that might alert them to the fact it was anything other than the demo model Elliot had claimed.
“Bottle too,” she said.
Elliot sheepishly relinquished the bottle.
“Now you see why I don’t make any exceptions,” Selah said to the guards at the station. They both nodded dutifully. But then she chuckled and shook her head again, and the tension broke. She turned around while the guards finished the scan and looked at Lincoln and Thumper. “This guy,” she said, pointing at Elliot. “I don’t know that I’d trust him, if he wasn’t so easy to read. I don’t suppose he told you about how we met?”
“A little,” Thumper said. “Mostly that you’d had his intentions identified well in advance of the execution of his plans.”
“Exactly,” Selah said. “Surprised he admitted to it. With him, it was even easier than usual.” She and Thumper shared a knowing look that made Lincoln feel like he’d just missed some subtle joke. And the feeling that he’d missed the joke enlightened him to the fact that he was part of the punchline.
“We are a generally oblivious animal,” he said, and Selah’s eyes flicked to his, amused.
“In general, yes,” she said. And then added with a quick wink. “Perhaps not in every specific.”
“What are you guys even talking about?” Elliot said.
“All clean, Ms Coulibaly,” one of the guards said, handing the box, the skeeter, and the bottle back.
“Thank you, Douglas,” she answered, accepting them. But she stopped mid-motion, and examined the bottle. “Elliot,” she said. “You didn’t.”
“No I did not,” he said. “Mr Kim did.”
She looked at Lincoln, stunned.
“Mr Kim, I can’t accept this. This is too much.”
Lincoln didn’t know anything about Scotch, so the force of her reaction was lost on him. He hadn’t even paid for the bottle. Elliot had given it to him from some secret stash.
“I must confess Ms Coulibaly, I’m not sure I understand the significance,” Lincoln said. “I asked Elliot for a recommendation. He said you were fond of that particular brand?”
She nodded and motioned for them to follow her as she led them towards a short corridor.
“I used to think there was nothing on Earth we couldn’t make better here on Mars,” she said. “But Scotch…”
There were three lifts on the left side of the hall, and a fourth at the end. Selah escorted them to the fourth, and ran her credentials through the interface. The door slid open, and she ushered the three of them in.
“And this in particular,” she continued, holding the bottle up again. “Well, it almost makes up for Elliot’s ridiculous stunt.”
“Then I wish I’d brought one more bottle,” Lincoln said. “Or perhaps, one less Elliot.”
Selah laughed aloud then, and whatever remaining cloud had been hovering over them seemed blown away by her laughter.
“I’m sorry to admit I hadn’t heard of Ready Vector Solutions until last evening,” Selah said, as they rode up to the eleventh floor. “But I did a little homework. I had no idea how many different industries used your hardware.”
Lincoln dipped his head. “We’ve been very fortunate.”
“And Elliot tells me you’re exploring expansion?”
Thumper took over. “Exploring, yes ma’am. I’m not sure it’s a good direction for us.”
“Ma’am,” Selah said, laughing. “That makes me sound old.”
“Sorry, it’s a habit,” Thumper said.
“I think it makes you sound distinguished,” Elliot added.
“Mm, yes,” Selah said. “A fine euphemism for old. Very good, Elliot.”
They exited the lift and walked down a quiet hall to a small, corner office.
“What may I offer you to drink?” Selah said, as they entered. “Water? Coffee? Tea?”
“Why don’t you crack open that 20?” Elliot said.
“I shouldn’t,” she replied. “Not so early.”
“I’ll pour,” he said, holding out a hand for the bottle. Selah smiled and though she didn’t exactly give him the bottle, she didn’t resist when he gently took it from her. He walked over to a small bar and poured out four drams. Selah took a seat behind her desk, and motioned for Lincoln and Thumper to sit in the two chairs facing her. As they sat, she held up and examined the disk Elliot had given her.
“I’m not sure I see how this is supposed to work,” she said.
Elliot returned and handed drinks to Lincoln and Thumper, but held on to Selah’s, an unspoken demand that she exchange the deactivated microdrone. She handed him the disk and accepted the glass in return.
“This is why I wanted it to be a surprise,” he said. He set his drink down on the corner of her desk, and then flexed the disk and shook it. The intelligent material awoke, and assumed its functional form; vaguely insect-like, roughly the size of a wasp. He handed it back to her.
“That’s remarkable,” she said, examining it again. “Where did you get this?”
“One of the manufacturers I work with,” Elliot said. “It’s a first run, not widely available yet. I thought you might find it interesting.”
“And what does it do?”
“Depends on the model,” he answered. “Though I believe that one is just a sensor for hazardous materials. Buzzes around sniffing for radiation, that sort of thing.”
“So why sneak it in?”
“To impress you. I was planning to do a magic trick.”
“I’m not sure magic tricks have the effect on the ladies that you think they do, Elliot,” she said. “And as fond as I am of you, the answer is still no.”
“I know. I’ve almost given up hope,” Elliot said with a chuckle. He picked up his glass and raised it in a toast. “To good health, great friends, and the absolute, very best of security.”
“Cheers,” Lincoln said.
“Cheers,” Selah said. They each sipped, and she closed her eyes, holding the amber liquid in her mouth for a time, savoring. Then she added, “Elliot, you really are an idiot.”
“I really am, Selah. But at least I’m handsome.”
“In your own way,” she said.
Lincoln had never been much of one for whisky of any sort, but he had to admit that this particular Scotch was smooth enough to make him reconsider. Of course, he could never afford it at the market rate, even at home. He could only guess what Elliot had paid for it here on Mars. Then again, given what he’d learned of Elliot so far, it seemed likely that the man had a connection somewhere that made it all a bargain.
“OK, so to business,” Selah said. “Elliot was vague on details.”
“That would be my fault,” Lincoln said. “I’ve not provided many. But he has spoken very highly of Manes-King in general, and of you in particular. When he said he thought he might be able to arrange a meeting, I couldn’t turn down the opportunity.”
They spent the next hour or so chatting, weaving through their cover story. Thumper took over the technical side of the discussion, but part of the brilliance of the cover was the fact that by design, neither party wanted to get too deep into the specifics, each honoring the other’s sensitive corporate position. Every so often, Elliot inserted a personal detail or worked in some industry connection so expertly that even knowing it was all false, Lincoln found it convincing.
Though it was never explicitly stated, Elliot steered the conversation in such a way as to imply that Ready Vector Solutions might be considering partnering with Manes-King, rather than establishing their own center. Assuming, of course, that they felt confident in Manes-King’s ability to handle highly-sensitive traffic. He never mentioned the communications array farm, but somehow Selah suggested giving them a tour of the facility anyway. By the end of the conversation, Lincoln understood how Elliot had managed to operate in the area for so long.
When Selah stepped out briefly to make quick arrangements, Elliot took advantage of the moment.
“I hope you can make it work with one,” Elliot said to Thumper.
“Me too,” she answered. “Link, I need the bits,” she said, motioning for him to hand over the two components to the controller he was carrying.
“What about the skeeter?” he said.
“In my pocket,” Thumper said.
Lincoln’s eyes flicked from Thumper to Elliot to Thumper again.
“When he handed me my drink,” she said. Lincoln had completely missed the exchange. Elliot was good.
They got everything transferred to Thumper, and not a moment too soon.
“We’re all set,” Selah said, poking her head back in the office. “I can’t take you all the way down to the actual array of course, but I can give you a good overview.”
“That’s more than we expected, Ms Coulibaly,” Lincoln said. “Thank you again.”
Selah took them down a couple of floors, and spoke in high-level terms about the systems they ran and how they ensured the security of the traffic they moved all over known space. Thumper was truly in her element here. The depth and insight of her questions apparently impressed Selah enough that at one point she asked Thumper whether or not she’d ever consider leaving Ready Vector. After twenty minutes or so of the behind-the-scenes tour, Lincoln surreptitiously keyed the comm unit in his pocket, sending a one-pulse signal out to Wright, wherever she was on the perimeter. Less than a minute later, Thumper received an incoming call.
“I’m sorry, excuse me, I need to check this,” she said. She answered, and stepped off to one side of the hall, and held a quiet but increasingly animated conversation. After a minute or two, she said, “Look, I’ll have to call you back in a few minutes, I can’t discuss this openly.”
She returned to the group, but pulled Lincoln close and they held a low, rehearsed conversation.
“It’s the Archive,” she said.
Lincoln grunted. “How bad?”
“They don’t know yet, but Aoki is already gone, managing a different issue. I’m going to have to talk the tech through the process.”
“Can it wait?”
“Not long.”
They stood silent for a moment, doing their best to look concerned.
“Is everything all right?” Elliot asked, on cue.
“Minor crisis,” Thumper said. “But escalating.”
Lincoln flashed him a quick smile. “Which is to say, business as usual. These things only happen when we’re off site.”
“If you need some privacy, we can get you a guest office,” Selah said. “If that would help.”
“Thank you, but no,” Thumper answered. “It’s a fairly sensitive situation.”
“Oh, we have several secure rooms here, if that’s the concern,” Selah said. “As I mentioned, we have clients across a broad spectrum. Governmental, military, financial. This sort of thing happens more frequently than you might think. Or, perhaps, as frequently as you might think.”
“Well,” Thumper said, deferring to Lincoln and looking convincingly torn. “If you think it’s all right…?”
“I’d rather you handle it as soon as possible,” Lincoln said, and he turned to Selah. “If it’s not too much trouble for you? I feel like we’ve already taken too much of your time.”
“Not at all,” Selah said. “Just down two floors, we’ll get you set up.”
Selah escorted them to another long, quiet hallway, and let Thumper into a nicely-appointed secure facility. Though the floor was isolated from the communications systems they needed to access, the two sections of the facility shared internal support structure. As long as Thumper could find a way to get the skeeter through the wall or ceiling, there were support beams she could follow to reach the target.
“There’s a terminal in the desk, if you should need it,” Selah said. “Thumbprint to access a new profile, thumbprint again to log out. All traffic will be scrubbed when you log out.”
“What about the thumbprint?” Thumper asked.
Selah smiled. “Also scrubbed.”
“How long do you think it will be?” Lincoln asked.
“If it’s what I think it is, it should be half an hour maybe? If not… well, if it’s not, I should probably book a flight out immediately.”
“Keep me posted.”
Thumper nodded, and then called Wright back. They left her to her work, closing the door behind them. Before they’d closed the door completely, Thumper was already unleashing a tirade that made Elliot’s eyebrows go up.
“User error would be my guess,” Lincoln said. “Ms Cooper doesn’t have a great deal of patience for self-inflicted wounds.”
Lincoln had no doubt that Thumper could make the conversation work from her side; she already had a tendency to talk too much anyway, and he didn’t know anyone with a more extensive technical vocabulary. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for Wright on the other end of the line, though, and could picture her gritting her teeth through the whole deception.
Though Selah mentioned that she didn’t mind waiting for Thumper to finish, Lincoln assured her that it would be better to complete the tour, knowing that he might also have to leave in a hurry, depending on the outcome of the call. With Thumper’s absence, he took the lead in keeping up the ruse, asking questions related more to operations and logistics. He’d never thought about it all that much before, but the more they talked, the more he got the feeling that there wasn’t as much difference between the civilian corporate world and the military life as he had expected. Maybe one day he’d go into business.
It was about forty minutes later that Thumper contacted him and relayed that she’d gotten the issue resolved. By that time, they’d been headed back up to Selah’s office anyway, having toured as much of the facility as she was comfortable allowing. They redirected and met Thumper.
“Everything taken care of?” Lincoln asked.
Thumper nodded. “Best I could do from here, anyway,” she said. “Thank you for your understanding, Selah.”
“As I said,” Selah answered, “it happens all the time.”
She escorted them back to the lobby and they said their goodbyes amidst assurances of keeping in touch about their potential future partnership. They were only a few steps away from the door and freedom when Selah called after them.
“Oh, one more thing,” she said. They turned back to see her standing there with the skeeter pinched between her thumb and forefinger. A cold fear rolled through Lincoln. Was that the one from her office, or the one Thumper had been using? There was no way to tell. “The next time we meet, leave your surveillance toys at home.”
But Elliot just laughed and plucked the device from her hand.
“I told you it was just a demo,” he said.
“And I would have been a fool to have believed you,” she said. Her demeanor had shifted back to predator. “What do you think I’ve had my people doing while I’ve been giving you a tour? And leaving a device like this sitting around in the chief of security’s office? Think what that could have done to my reputation.”
From her office, then. Lincoln hoped the relief wasn’t obvious on his face. But his mind flashed back, and he couldn’t recall having seen her take the skeeter off the desk. Or when she would have handed it off… Ah, when she’d excused herself, with the claim that she needed to arrange for their impromptu tour. He wondered what exactly her people had been doing all that time.
“I’d like the name of the supplier who gave you this,” she continued. “I’m afraid they’ve misled you as to its purpose.”
The look on Elliot’s face was indistinguishable from genuine dismay.
“Selah… I’m… I’m so sorry,” he said.
“I don’t blame you, Elliot,” she said. “But you would make a terrible corporate spy.”
“Good thing, I guess,” he said, looking at his feet.
“You, on the other hand,” Selah said, turning her gaze to Thumper. For a moment the two women stood locked in silence, both unreadable. Then Selah added, “I don’t know what you really do, but you’re obviously exceptional at it.”
Thumper held still, giving neither proclamation of innocence nor admission of guilt.
Selah flicked her eyes back over to Elliot, drew closer, lowered her voice.
“You’re a good man, Elliot. If I didn’t know that, if I didn’t know it…” she said, then cocked her head to one side briefly. Somehow in that simple motion, the full weight of her potential menace made itself known. “… so I’m giving you this one.”
“Selah–” Elliot said, but she cut him off.
“One, Elliot,” she said. “And only one.”
For once, Elliot appeared to be at a loss for words. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Dropped his head to gather himself. Lincoln feared that even a blink might tip them over the edge into catastrophe, mere steps from triumph. For all intents, it seemed they hadn’t gotten away with anything at all. And though Elliot might escape her judgment, her eyes had not yet fallen upon Lincoln.
“Let me make it up to you…” Elliot said. And then he looked up with a hint of a smile and impeccable timing, “Over dinner?”
But Selah wasn’t amused. She held up her pointer finger an inch from his nose; punctuating her message, and maybe giving warning not to push her anymore today.
Elliot pushed anyway.
“Lunch?” he asked.
Selah tipped her head back slightly, chin jutted… and then shook her head with a chuckling sigh, and Lincoln got the impression that somehow, by some miracle, they were going to walk out of there after all.
“Goodbye, Elliot,” she answered. “Stay in touch. I’ve missed you.”
It wasn’t until the three of them were riding away in the car, a good five kilometers from the Manes-King facility that Elliot let out a long exhale and a laugh, and rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand.
“You got what you needed?” he asked.
“I got access,” Thumper said. “Going to have to wait to see what Veronica can do with it before we can be sure. But yeah, we got what we came for. You weren’t kidding about those protocols though. Took me twenty minutes just to figure out how they were tracking activity in the room she put me in, so I could circumvent.”
“So they do track it?” Elliott asked.
“Of course they do,” Thumper said. “I had to make up a whole batch of backend protocol nonsense on the spot, just to give them something to gnaw on.”
She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, then chuckled.
“Gotta say, if I were actually working for Ready Vector, I’d feel pretty safe partnering with them.”
“I can’t believe we got away with that,” Lincoln said. “Twice in that lobby, I thought we were dead.”
“You and me both, brother,” Elliot replied.
“Couldn’t have guessed it from your reaction,” Lincoln said. “I kind of thought you’d already had those contingencies planned for.”
“Not exactly,” said Elliot, and he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Lincoln knew that posture. He’d adopted it many times, during the adrenaline letdown after coming out of an op.
“Is this the job you always wanted?” Thumper asked.
“Me?” Elliot said, chuckling with his eyes still closed. He shook his head. “Me, no. I always wanted to run a pub.”
“Well… you seem born for the work,” Thumper said. “I don’t know how you do it.”
Elliot smiled with his response.
“Helps to be a good dancer.”