“It would appear so. In which case we must assume Victor is also an agent. I’ve informed Christabel about this incident. She will close the net around Victor if he hasn’t already gone dark.”
“And Isabella?” Renne asked.
“Her involvement is even more likely,” Paula said. “You made a good call on that investigation. I’d say the Doi shotgun was Starflyer disinformation intended to discredit the Guardians.”
“All right,” Alic said; he just wanted to draw a line under the botched arrest. At least that was Paula’s responsibility. “What is your recommendation? What do we do next?”
“Obviously taking Tarlo into custody is my principal priority. CST security officers at the Tridelta station will be reviewing every passenger for us. I’ve deployed an armed squad there already. Other than that, the ongoing cases must be kept open.”
“Are you going to arrest Bernadette?” Jim Nwan asked.
“Yes,” Paula said. “But it’s a question of timing.”
“Now we know the Starflyer agents are weapons wetwired, we need to gather a lot more firepower, surely?” John King said.
“I already have more Senate Security combat squads on the way,” Paula said. “But right now, Bernadette is the only Starflyer agent whose whereabouts we are certain of. She cannot be allowed to escape.”
“How long until your reinforcements arrive?” Alic asked.
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Okay then, let’s go.”
Paula shifted her helmet to her other arm. “No. She knows her cover has been blown; she also knows that we are observing her and we have armed squads in Tridelta.”
“So?”
“So, why didn’t she try and break the observation as soon as Tarlo was exposed?”
Alic sagged, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “She’s waiting for something.”
“Exactly.”
“But the longer she waits, the stronger we can box her in. She must know that.”
“Yes. So whatever she is here for must be very important to the Starflyer. She will try to break our observation, either by force or stealth. We need to let her think she has succeeded; that way she will lead us to whatever she is here for.”
“You can have whatever resources you need from the Paris office,” Alic said.
“I’d like to keep Renne’s team on her for continuity,” Paula said. “Can you give me someone to replace Vic?”
“Sure.” He turned to John King. “That’s you.”
“Yessir,” John said.
“That’s useful,” Paula said. “We’ve got the Paris team, Halgarth Security, and Senate Security. If she can elude all three of us, then frankly we deserve to lose her.”
“What about the meeting with the Agent?” Jim Nwan asked. “It’s set up and ready.”
“That’s our second objective,” Paula said. “The Agent is the breakthrough we’ve been waiting for. He can lead us right into the Guardians. The meeting this evening must go ahead as planned. I can’t emphasize enough how important it is to take him into custody.”
“I’ll take charge of that operation,” Alic said. It was the kind of legitimate interception that was part of the Admiral’s agenda. And success there would reflect well on whoever was in charge of the operation; it might even mitigate against the rest of this god-awful mess.
“Good. You understand that Tarlo will also be there if we haven’t caught him by tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
“Whoever gets the Agent will have access to critical information on the Guardians and their operations. The Starflyer needs that as badly as we do; for over a century they have been its only opposition.”
“So…are we still trying to shut down the Guardians?” Renne asked.
Alic had never seen such a troubled expression on Paula’s face, not even that day when the Admiral dismissed her.
“There are a lot of political factors involved,” Paula said slowly. “I can only say that my allies will have to consider our next move very carefully after we have acquired the Agent and reviewed what he knows.”
“Okay,” Alic said briskly. “We all know what to do. Send back to the office for any equipment you need, especially force field suits, given what we know about Tarlo’s capabilities. Paula, a word, please?”
The two of them walked away from the others. “You know I can’t afford to go gray on the Guardians,” he said. “When we acquire the Agent, any information he has must be acted on in a positive manner. They are still classed as our number one terrorist group.”
“I understand. Tarlo will give the Admiral pause for thought. He’s not stupid. If the information is useful, then my allies will be able to change Commonwealth policy.”
Alic whistled appreciatively. “Those are some allies. Good luck for the rest of today.”
“And yourself. My advice would be to strengthen the guard on Beard. He’s the only known route to the Agent. If Tarlo wants to avoid confrontation tonight that would be the obvious method.”
“Right then.” Alic nodded, and headed over toward the apprehensive detectives.
***
Mellanie spent the morning lying on the small room’s single bed with the floor-to-ceiling curtains drawn, accessing all the Tridelta news. Every show was featuring last night’s fight at the Almada hotel. The level of violence had surprised the reporters, and the police weren’t being very helpful with their bland statements. There was no mention of a body being found stuffed into the lower deck lifeboat escape passage on Cypress Island.
She didn’t understand it, but she slowly allowed herself to relax. After a while she canceled the news and called Dudley.
“Hello, my darling,” he said. “Are you coming back now?”
“Not today.”
“When? I miss you. I want you.”
The familiarity of his neediness was reassuring. Stupid old-young Dudley. A universal constant. “Soon. Maybe tomorrow.”
“I hope so. I’ve done a lot of work on the trip.”
“What trip?”
“To the asteroid.”
“Oh, right.” She’d forgotten. “How’s it going?”
“Very well. I’m busy computing possible Hohmann transfer orbits. We need to have enough fuel left on arrival to explore the gas-giant orbit inside and outside its rings. Though I expect the habitat asteroid has a significant infrared emission. It should be easy enough to locate.”
“Well done, Dudley. I’ll take a look at it all when I get back.”
“I really want you.”
“Dudley. You can always access Murderous Seduction again.”
“No. I hate it. Hate it! That’s someone else having sex with you. I can’t feel that again. It’s awful for me. You should never have made it.”
“Okay, Dudley. But I just want to know if you’re all right.”
“Why shouldn’t I be?”
“I thought someone might be following me. Now don’t get in a panic; I wasn’t sure at all. Have you seen anyone hanging around the apartment lately?” She was sure that Alessandra’s people must have picked her up on Earth, no doubt following her from the Michelangelo studios. So they would definitely know where Dudley was. They’d probably be focusing on him as a way of reconnecting with her.
“No. Do you want me to go outside and check?”
“No, Dudley, that’s all right. I’m tired, I wasn’t really sure.”
“Okay then. What are you doing today? Have you found those lawyers yet?”
“Not yet. But I’ve got a job that should put me close to them.”
“What sort of job?”
“I’m a trainee cleaner at the clinic.”
The image of Kaspar Murdo’s overly friendly face as he acted as her protector and mentor in the belowdecks club filled her mind. All his glib words, his saccharine smile. The deep meaningful conversation he’d wheedled out of her after they went back up to the top deck as the Cypress Island headed home in the small hours, listening sympathetically to Saskia’s ambitions, admiring how she’d left home to strike out for herself. He was good, Mellanie saw; a lot of youngsters would fall for that concerned guru act.
As the Cypress Island turned back out onto the Logrosan he’d said he would see what he could do about finding her a job, and offered to rent her his spare room. His last tenant had “just left” and it was very cheap. She’d accepted after a convincing show of uncertainty. Alessandra’s people would watch her apartment on Royal Avenue when they realized Dorian was never going to be reporting back. They were a complication she really didn’t need.
Murdo’s open plan apartment in the Barbican Marina condo was surprisingly large, with the curving external walls built from glass bricks making it very light and airy. The Scandinavian-style furniture was old but high quality, and every room was spotlessly clean. There were two bedrooms, and one other room that was locked and screened with a commercial e-seal generator.
He’d been the perfect gentleman, giving her a big toweling robe so she could use the bathroom. There were other clothes he happened to have, a sweatshirt and jeans near her own size that she was welcome to use until she collected her own stuff. He bid her good night as he turned in. His shift didn’t start until six that evening.
She’d taken a shower, her OCtattoos detecting sensors all around the limestone-tiled cubical. They were active, allowing Murdo to examine every millimeter of
