“Sit down,” Faulkner said, gesturing to a nearby table.
Sarah sat, smoothing her dress as she did so. “He went out through the kitchens. If you hurry, you might be able to catch him.” She looked around. “As it stands, this isn’t looking good for your reputation.”
Faulkner grabbed a chair and sat down opposite her. “Why were you having coffee with a wanted terrorist?”
Sarah paused. “I wasn’t aware he was such. As far as I knew, he was a potential whistle-blower.”
“And you wanted to hear him out, did you?”
“Obviously.”
Faulkner frowned. “You should take this more seriously, Ms Lincoln. Holden is a wanted man, and we could hold you as an accomplice.”
“Unless something has changed in the last twenty-four hours, you can’t hold anyone for anything.” Sarah considered her next words carefully. “But, you know – let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“Your holding facility, obviously. Take me to wherever you’re keeping the people you’ve been snatching off the streets the past day or so. Take me right now, Faulkner. Right here, in front of all those news drones that followed you here, in front of all the recording devices even now fixed on us.” She set her hands on the table. “Slap the cuffs on me, officer. It’s a fair cop.”
Faulkner stared at her for a moment, and then snorted and looked away. “I wish I bloody could. I really do.” He paused. “And maybe one day I will.”
“I’m sure you’re looking forward to it.”
He laughed and looked at her. “Your parents were immigrants, weren’t they?”
It was Sarah’s turn to frown. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything. But yes. My parents were indeed immigrants. Law abiding, productive members of society who were nonetheless often treated like second class citizens. One of the reasons I got into politics was to ensure that–”
“Save it,” Faulkner said, flatly. He studied her. “If I thought for one moment you were serious about all that, I might respect you. But I know your type. I saw plenty of your sort overseas…”
“I’m sure you did. And I’m sure you shot a good many of them.” Sarah knew she was pushing too hard. She also knew that she had stay on top of him. To keep him angry, rather than thinking. From the look on his face, it was working.
“Why were you meeting Holden?” he growled.
“He said he had something to tell me.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. You came in guns blazing before he had a chance to say anything.” She made a show of looking around, at his men standing on guard. “Well done, by the way. You’ve pacified an upscale expresso bar. Nigel Cass would be so proud.”
Faulkner’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“Like the Americans say, the best defence is a good offence.”
He looked away. “Holden is no longer employed by Albion. He is a rogue element. A terrorist, as I said.”
“Like DedSec?”
His eyes strayed back. “Maybe. My orders are to apprehend him.”
“And turn him over to the proper authorities,” Sarah said.
He smiled. “We are the authorities.”
“Not yet. Not ever, if I get my way.”
His smile widened and he stood. He looked around, his eyes passing over Jenks and settling on Hannah. She shrank back and he turned back to Sarah. “I would reconsider involving yourself in our affairs in the future. And if you happen to see Holden again, it’d be in your best interests to report it to us.”
“And if I don’t?”
He leaned over the table towards her, no longer smiling. “Then our next conversation will end poorly for you, Ms Lincoln. MP or no MP.” He straightened and turned, signalling his men to withdraw. “Let’s move.”
Sarah let out a slow breath as they departed. She turned to the others. “Is everyone all right? PC Jenks – Moira?”
Jenks nodded, dabbing at her nose with a handful of napkins. “I’m alright, ma’am. Been knocked about worse by bigger.”
“I’m sure. Hannah?”
Hannah nodded, her eyes wide. “Sarah, I–”
“Later.” Sarah took a deep breath, composing herself. The remaining patrons had their Optiks out now, and were recording. She put on a confident smile. “Right now, I have to speak to my constituency about the gross abuse of power they just witnessed.”
20: Lock-Up
It only took one phone call for Danny to find out where Ro was living these days. His mum was only too happy to share. Danny thought she was hoping this was the first step to her children’s reconciliation. She was probably going to be disappointed in that regard.
He and Ro had never gotten along, and there was too much time and bad feelings between them to change that. He still wasn’t sure what he’d done, or not done, to piss her off. Sometimes he wondered if Ro herself even knew. Maybe she just liked hating him.
But this, whatever it was, was bigger than them. Danny had been a soldier long enough to know when something was up. There was a feeling in the air, like when you were riding down a stretch of mountain road and knew – you knew – that there was something bad waiting for you up ahead. But there was no way to tell what it was until you ran up on it.
Faulkner was up in arms about something. Some drone technician named Holden was on the run. Danny figured he was carrying a load of proprietary information, the way Faulkner was acting. Or maybe it was something else – something related to the shootings. He couldn’t see how, but that didn’t mean that the connections weren’t there.
Danny was torn between his desire to investigate, and his desire to keep his head way down. Curiosity got men killed. Danny had seen it more than once. He didn’t intend to suffer the same fate. All he wanted was to do his job, get paid and maybe visit his mum more than once in a blue moon. But if
