He was on this third V-juice when Estios and Teresa entered the pub and took a booth in the back. From his shadowed position at the bar, he waited, watching to see if they had a tail. Satisfied that there were no obvious followers, he flipped a one-band credstick to the ork behind the bar and joined them.
Teresa looked tired and worn down, but she had a smile for him. Beneath the layer of exhaustion, Estios's expression was even more sour than usual. The hand he tapped nervously on the table was wrapped in surgical tape. The exposed flesh at the base of his fingers looked raw.
'Let's get to it, alley runner. I don't like being out in the open like this.'
Dodger gave him a smile as wide and honest as that of a megacorp's public relations director. 'Indeed, I think 'tis a lovely evening as well, and your inquiries into my health are sincerely appreciated.'
'In your pointy ear, smart-ass. We lost Chatterjee the other night.'
Dodger swallowed his levity. He hadn't particularly liked or disliked the Indian elf, but he had respected him as a competent runner. 'I know. I'm sorry.'
'That don't change anything. He's still dead. If we'd had some more muscle on the floor, he might not be.'
Dodger's retort was cut off by Teresa.
'There's no need to lay guilt on Dodger. You went ahead with the raid after you knew he couldn't make it.'
'Don't start,' Estios snapped.
Teresa sat back. Estios's heated reaction seemed to assure her that her point had been made.
'Chatterjee knew the risks, alley runner,' Estios said directly to Dodger, as if he needed to explain his own responsibility in the other elf's death. 'We're not playing games here. But his death costs the team, and I don't plan on losing anybody just to have a chat with you. Make your point quickly, or we're gone.'
'Very well. We've gotten reliable information on the itinerary of one of the Circle. There will be an opportunity for a strike.'
'I assume your presence here means that Verner isn't going after him.'
'Her. It's Wallace.'
'Whatever,' Estios said, dismissing the correction with an irritated wave of his injured hand. 'You had reported that his strategy was to whittle them down.'
Dodger tried to sound properly offended by Estios's implication. 'I have reported all with scrupulous accuracy. Sir Twist wants to wait for a shot at bigger fish.'
'But, Dodger, why pass this information on to us? If we hit Wallace, it'll stir the Circle up,' Teresa observed. 'That would seem to complicate Verner's plans.'
'A successful raid will also weaken the Circle.' He turned to Estios. 'I think even you can see that an opportunity to weaken them will be to all our benefits.'
'There will be just the one?' Estios asked, still suspicious. 'They been hanging pretty close since we iced Carstairs.'
'For this occasion, the Circle will be separated. One druid and a minimum amount of muscle is all there will be. The Circle continues to expand their shadow contacts, and there is to be a meet with an important runner. Since the site is within Wallace's turf, the politics of the situation demand a show of trust. Security will be light.' 'You've got plans for the meet site?' 'Of course.' Dodger slid a chip case across the table. 'Times and routes as well.'
'And you're willing to take Chatterjee's place on this hit?'
Dodger hesitated. 'I'll ride Matrix cover.' 'Some brave fellow, eh, Teresa? Can't get shot or flamed in the Matrix.'
'There are dangers enough in the Matrix,' she said. Dodger wondered if she was worried about him. Estios made his own feelings clear by saying, 'Not when we all know the Circle hasn't got a decker in his league.'
'Is that a backhanded compliment, Estios?' Dodger said in mock surprise.
Estios glowered at him and stood. He half-dragged Teresa from the booth. 'If you do the job, alley runner. We'll take out the druid.'
The abrupt end of the meeting spoiled Dodger's hopes of talking with Teresa. His pique roused him to take a jab at the departing Estios. 'What's the matter, Mister Competence. Don't you trust me?'
Wind whistled past the cockpit. The rush of air almost drowned out the moan and hum of the taut fibercables connecting the Fledermaus to its untenanted twins. The cables slaved the autopilots of the other craft, forcing them to duplicate Sam's maneuvers. The dogbrains were left just enough latitude to compensate for slight differences in the air flow.
In the distance, the triple towers of the Brighton
Centrum stood like spires of light against the night. Below and beyond them, the lights of the district dotted the landscape like a mass migration of hopped-up fireflies.
Somewhere down there various radars would be running, watching the skies. The cables ensured there would be no transmissions to unmask them, while the foamed exteriors and composite construction materials masked the metallic contents of the craft. To any vigilant watcher, the vee formation of Fledermaus should look like no more than a small flock of night-flying seabirds.
Sam hoped that was true. Cog had assured him of it, but Cog was safely on the ground. Sam turned the nose of his craft toward the land, riding the predawn seabreeze. Behind him, the other two ultralights turned in his wake like obedient dogs.
Hart tongued the button on the boom mike of her headset, silently acknowledging Jenny's signal. A glance over the edge of the roof showed her the two iiicles carrying the meres moving into pre-assault sitions on the plaza between the towers. It was alst time.
Jenny had managed a reasonable crop, given the constraints of time, and they were every bit as cocky jfas the decker had said. But then most of their breed I were that way; they didn't have enough brains to be otherwise. Still, they were well equipped with untraceable equipment, which she had checked herself at the briefing. More importantly, they were hopped up and ready to go on what they thought was a retaliatory property smash.
Hart had arranged for the bloodballs that they had demanded in their contract. The combat drug would raise their pain thresholds and boost their adrenal functions, making them more effective physically while cutting down on reasoning functions. Just the thing for a shoot-and-scoot where no tactical subtlety was needed. She had sternly admonished them to take only one apiece, but she knew most of them would pop a 'few more. In fact, she was counting on it, and had made sure the drug was above average purity. A mere
I who succumbed to its false promise of invincibility probably wouldn't last the fight, but until then he'd be worth two or three straight shooters.
They'd need the edge; she hadn't told them about
I the magic they would be facing.
Hart laid the Conner grapple gun on the parapet and fused the sight to check the opposite roof. It was still clear. She wished she could see inside, but she didn't dare send Aleph or make an astral check herself. Surprise was vital.
She tried to relax as she waited for Jenny's go signal.
'Two doors down on the left.' Dodger watched Estios and Teresa move down the corridor. She'd cover while the black-haired elf moved forward. Then, he'd hold until she joined him. They were careful and quiet. If Dodger hadn't been monitoring the hall camera, he would not have known they were there; the sound pickups didn't register their presence due to Estios's silence spell.
The pair reached the designated door. As Teresa crossed in front to take a position on the side of the frame opposite Estios, Dodger switched cameras and checked the room to satisfy himself that all was well.
'All clear,' he sent on the tight band. 'Bonding charge is off. Only the panel lock left.''
Estios nodded once to Teresa. He barely waited for her to signal her own readiness before stepping away from the wall. He faced the door and kicked. A portion of the frame tore free. Estios used the recoil of his kick to drop back in a crouch. Teresa cut through the door and rolled to the left as Estios aimed into the room, ready to take out any threat.
