Liz nodded. “Interesting, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you think she tells him?” Liz looked at him. “Think about it. He’s a link in a chain – just like you, just like me. If we needed to get into Blume, he’s a way in. Especially if you dig a bit deeper and… ah.” She smiled. “He’s got a major grudge against the Kelleys.”
Olly tensed. The Kelleys scared the crap out of him. “So?”
“So if we helped him, what might he do for us in return?”
Olly sat back. “You mean… he’d join DedSec?”
“In a certain sense, he already has. Look who he’s with.” Liz twitched her chin towards the corner, where an older woman had taken a seat opposite the old man. Alarms and alerts flashed on her display, as they no doubt did on Olly’s. Old photos, video-streams, news conferences…
“A copper?”
“Retired copper.” Liz waved surreptitiously. The woman noticed, and gave a terse nod, before turning back to the old man. Olly looked on in puzzlement.
“You know her?”
“In a sense. DedSec did her a favour, once. Now she owes us a favour. Which is why she’s here. Digging up information on the Kelleys – they’re just as much a part of the problem as Albion, Olly. All part of the same cancer.” She knocked on the table. “DedSec is people. People talking to people, people helping people. We’re all part of the resistance, in our own way. Remember that.”
As she spoke, the door to café slammed open, causing the bell to jangle. An armed Albion trooper stepped in, gaze sweeping over the patrons. He paused a moment, then ambled to the counter and ordered a coffee. Through the window, Liz could see two others standing on the street. Olly looked her, and she gestured for him to remain where he was.
She couldn’t tell if they were the ones who’d pursued them from the station, but it didn’t really matter. The one at the counter scanned the patrons faces as he waited, using his Optik’s facial recognition software. Liz tensed as he turned towards their table – and then passed on. Olly glanced at Liz and she smiled thinly.
When the trooper had ambled out, coffees in hand, Liz said, “Don’t worry. They won’t get any matches.”
“You sure about that?” Olly asked as he slumped back in his seat. Outside, orange light cast long shadows. “I know I’m not in the system, but you…”
“I should have said, they’ll get matches, but the identities are false. Innocuous. During the early days of the cTOS upgrades, we built a few hundred fake identities. When they use the facial recognition software on a member of DedSec, it attaches our picture to a randomised identity. It wouldn’t hold up against a second look, but it’s usually enough to satisfy the grunts on the street.”
Olly shook his head, visibly impressed. “When was anybody going to tell me about all of this?” he asked, somewhat plaintively.
“When you needed to know,” Liz said. She smiled. “Welcome to the Resistance.”
Coyle looked up as his external Optik chimed. He brought up his display, and saw that Tell’s device had been activated. “Finally.”
With a grim smile, he rose to his feet. He retrieved his Optik and brought up the control app for the drone across the room. With a tap of his screen, the drone’s motors whirred to life. It was quieter than one might think. Another improvement over the standard model. He opened a window, and the drone passed out into the late afternoon light. As it left the building, he activated its secondary systems.
The sleek lines and rigid angles wavered, seemingly changing before his eyes. A moment was all it took. The drone no longer resembled a combat model, but instead looked like a common Parcel Fox courier drone. And as far as any electronic recording devices were concerned, that was exactly what it was.
Coyle activated the remote HUD connected to the drone’s sensory suite. It was strange to see the city this way, and he doubted he would ever grow used to it. The drone could perceive things invisible to the human eye. A constant drip of data scrolled down either side of the display. The drone’s AI was responsible for most of its everyday functions – leaving only the execution of the kill-shot to Coyle.
The drone soon locked onto the Optik’s signal, and headed out over the city, heading towards Victoria Park. That made sense, given how close it was to the police station. He wondered who was in possession of it – a police officer? An Albion operative? Either way, their fate was sealed. He felt a flicker of regret, but quickly pushed it aside. It was a vice he could not afford. Especially now.
There was still Tell to find, after all. The enigmatic Marcus Tell. The other half of Zero Day’s equation. Coyle had done his research there as well, digging in to his primary target. Tell did not exist, save on paper, much like Coyle himself. Oh there had been a man named Marcus Tell, once. But the man who bore that name now had not been given it at birth. Coyle had not yet found out the man’s true name, and only had bits and pieces of his bloody history.
According to Zero Day, Tell was a bomb maker by trade. An expert in improvised explosive devices, with connections to several now-defunct terrorist organisations. And it was in that capacity that he had been employed by Zero Day. But now his employment was at an end, and Zero Day wanted the loose end tied up.
Coyle had performed similar clean-up operations before. Tell was a clear and present danger to Zero Day in some fashion. Perhaps he had threatened to go to the authorities. Or maybe he had reneged on the deal somehow. Coyle
