To: TBradly
Subject: RE: dinner party
Alerts set. Preps for proper atmosphere under way. Celebrations to commence 7:31.
J.H.
Ashton, with Carter’s experienced help, had long since hacked into the local VR networking, and saw the message go out. In his turn, he pinged Carter in a classified channel that no one else even knew about, because they’d set it up at the same time as the hack.
To: DirLC
Subject: Oldies
Bait taken. Notify The Team to prepare for multiple busts in about forty-six hours from now.
D.X.A.
Moments later, the response came back.
To: DXA
Subject: Re: Oldies
Copy. Done.
L.C.
Very late that night, Inspectors Stefan Gorski and Eugene Demetrius showed up in the darkness of a not-yet-completed neighborhood on the southwestern outskirts of the Imperial City, in a vehicle whose lights were very dim, and parked in a construction lot down the street. Ten minutes later and on foot, they slipped through the barely-open gate carrying a special package, on which was a very specific Imperial transaction stamp. As soon as they made it through the gate, they headed off the drive and behind the shrubs that lined it, aiming for the opposite side of the house from the lot the saboteurs had been using for surveillance; the house security did not indicate their presence, but the two men were taking no chances.
Maia Peterson let them in a side entrance of her house, and took them straight through to the back yard, which was largely out of sight of their surroundings due to landscaping and the fact that they had left most of the trees on this wooded part of the lot. Carter was waiting for them there, and the four slipped deep into the back yard.
The Carters owned a solid eight-acre lot, and it backed on a small lake. The lot was slightly wedge-shaped so that it fronted readily on the street without monopolizing that route, but widened as one went back, and simultaneously encompassed a substantial part of the lakeshore front, which was not that far from the house, though somewhat screened by all the trees that had attracted the couple to the lot in the first place. There was plenty of room for a stroll, picnics under the trees, sunning on the deck or lakeside, swimming, and even boating.
The lake also made for an extremely safe place for discharging pyrotechnics.
The foursome placed a special, waterproof pad near the edge of the water, then Gorski set the package down in the center of the pad and opened it. Demetrius reached inside and carefully flipped a few switches, then typed a number into a tiny keypad.
“Did you see that, Lee?” he asked in a low tone.
“1-1-4-8,” Carter murmured in response.
“Right. You can hit the switch in that channel. Or you can set up a timer.”
“All over it,” Carter replied. “Timer set.”
“You sure it’ll be big enough, Lee?”
“Oh yeah. I’m sure, Maia.”
“Did you notify the local departments…?” Gorski wondered.
“And put a classified header on it,” Carter averred. “It’ll go just like we want it to. Get… wait. How is Smith doing, after getting zapped?”
“He’s on partial duty,” Peterson noted. “I had him see a doctor straight away, and the doctor is treating him for a few things after the lightning strike. He’s developed a bit of palsy in his hands, and some things like that. We’re hoping that with a few tweaks to his nanites, that’ll improve and he’ll be good to go. But I’d rather not have him in on this, if we can help it.”
“Right. We can do that. Or not do it, rather. So gentlemen and lady, get The Team together – the ones not in the hospital or otherwise on the injured list, at least – and be ready day after tomorrow, first thing in the morning.”
“Right,” the two inspectors said in unison. Peterson nodded affirmation.
Then the two inspectors slipped back out the way they had come.
During the day, both Ashton and Carter noticed a certain eagerness and enthusiasm among certain members of the beat cop division. Specifically, a certain subset of the ‘oldies’ seemed to be quite cheerful that day. Lee and Nick weren’t sure whether to be amused or angry. They settled on ‘both.’
During lunch, thereby making sure the bullpen was deserted and no one would be watching, Peabody came to see Ashton. Ashton had made it a policy and practice that his office door was literally always open, unless someone was already inside with him and discussing either personal matters, or classified case details. And once that person left, the door was opened and remained open once again, thus inviting his people to come by and chat with him about their troubles – both personal and case.
“Well, hi, Peabody,” Ashton said, looking up from where he read applications to his division in the lower half of his vision. He waved at the visitor chair across his desk. “Have a seat. What can I do for you?”
Peabody came in – closing the door behind him – then moved straight to the indicated chair and sat.
“I just wanted to tag up with you about some things,” he said, glancing around meaningfully.
“We’re clear,” Ashton said, interpreting the glance. “That’s one of the advantages of an honest organization.” He didn’t mention that he now scanned for bugs every time he came back to the office, even from the men’s room… just in case. And since he had just returned from the men’s room fifteen minutes before, he knew for a fact that it was clear.
“Oh, good,” Peabody replied. “Listen, I, uh, I heard you and your wife are going over to Carter’s place for dinner tonight.”
“That’s right.”
“And he’s married to Colonel Peterson over in ICPD, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t go, Detective.”
“You’ve heard something.”
“There have been some… I suppose you could call
