Take The Star Road (The Maxwell Saga) (37 page)

"Sir, the surveillance team reports finding suspicious indications as they set up coverage of your hotel. A man is loitering near the entrance, and another two are in the lobby. A van with darkened windows is parked in a side alley a block from the hotel, with another two men inside it. Finally, the door to the balcony of your room is slightly ajar."

Steve interrupted, "I left it closed, because light showers were forecast for tonight. Someone else must have opened it."

"The team assumed as much. They believe someone is inside. Our team leader submits that these men clearly know you went out tonight, and are waiting for you to return - probably to kidnap you. He suggests that if you're willing to co-operate, we can seize all of them for questioning."

Steve didn't hesitate. "That's fine with me. What do you want me to do?"

"Just a moment, please, Sir." The man muttered something into his throat microphone, then listened intently before looking back at Steve again. "He says I should wait a few kilometers from your hotel. He'll ask the Red Pole to send reinforcements and specialists to assist our team. We'll receive further instructions shortly."

"Let's do it!"

###

The taxi driver glanced in his rear-view mirror. "Here she comes now, Sir."

A runabout drew up alongside them in the shopping center parking lot. A petite, attractive woman got out, her darker features suggesting mixed ancestry. She wore dark slacks and a long-sleeved black shirt, and carried a capacious handbag. Steve estimated her age as being anywhere from late twenties to mid-thirties. He opened a rear passenger door for her, and she slipped inside as the runabout pulled away.

"Good evening, Mr. Maxwell," she greeted him politely, then glanced at the driver. "Hello, Sam." She reached into her handbag and took out an earpiece, handing it to Steve. "My name's Lin. If you'll please put this behind your ear, you'll be able to hear instructions from the team."

"Thanks, Lin. Please call me Steve." Its slightly sticky surface clung to his left ear as he tucked the trailing aerial wire into his collar, in imitation of the driver.

She handed him a small black box, a red diode glowing on its front panel. "Please clip this to your belt beneath your jacket. It'll disrupt the hotel security cameras, and the police network in the immediate vicinity of the hotel. We'd rather not have their assistance tonight, so we'll all be wearing them."

Steve couldn't help grinning. "I understand. I've seen them used before."

"Are you armed? I can lend you a pistol if you wish."

"Thank you, but I'm not trained in their use - not yet, anyway. That's something I intend to remedy as soon as I can. I'm
nidan
in karate, which may help. I've used it to assist your Tong on previous occasions."

Her eyes widened slightly, and she half-bowed in her seat. "I'm the same rank in aikido. Perhaps we'll have an opportunity to spar together sometime. As for pistol training, I understand you'll be off-planet for a couple of months. When you return, I'll be glad to assist you if you wish, and if the Red Pole approves. I'm the weapons instructor for the Tong here on Vesta."

"I'll take you up on that, thanks, and not just for pistols - other weapons, too."

"I'll look forward to it. Let me brief you on what's going to happen. We've deployed a flitterbug operator to dispose of whoever's in your bedroom. He'll send scout bugs through the open balcony door to find out how many are inside, followed by assault bugs to knock them out with paralyzing neurotoxin.

"He'll send more flitterbugs into the lobby as we open the door, to disable the clerk on duty and the men waiting inside. I'll get out of the taxi with you, acting as if I'm your partner for the night. The watcher outside will doubtless report our arrival, after which two members of our team will deal with him. You and I will cross slowly to the elevator, apparently engrossed in each other, to give the flitterbug operator time to disable those inside.

"If anything goes wrong, we may have to defend ourselves against the men in the lobby until the flitterbugs can bring them down. I understand you've fought pirates before, and killed some of them?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'm pleased to hear you've fought for real before - it'll make it easier to handle them, if necessary. If they produce pistols, leave them to me."

"OK. What about the two men waiting in the van?"

"They'll be dealt with by other members of our team."

"Fair enough. When do we start?"

"We move to about a kilometer from the hotel, then wait for a signal."

###

The earpiece crackled slightly.
"Two targets disabled in the bedroom. Lobby team, go!"

"That's us," Lin said softly as the driver set his cab in motion.

"I heard."

The taxi turned onto the street leading to the hotel. As it approached the front doors, slowing, it passed a figure standing in a public transport shelter set back from the curb. Steve guessed it was the outside man, who'd be watching for his arrival. He instinctively began to turn his head, to look at him as they passed, but Lin's elbow jabbed him hard in the ribs - fortunately on his uninjured side.

"Don't look at him!"
she hissed. "He'll suspect something!"

"Sorry. It was a reflex reaction."

Her tone was reproving. "If you plan to live and move in our world for very much longer, you'll have to learn to control such reflexes. They can get you killed."

"I'll ask you to add that sort of thing to my training when I get back."

"We can do that." She sounded somewhat mollified. "We'll work on counter-surveillance in general."

The cab stopped outside the double doors. Steve got out, then held the door open for Lin as she followed him. He took her arm loosely and led her toward the doors.

"Don't react to the sound of the flitterbugs," she whispered softly, looking up at him adoringly as if he were the center of her existence. "Hold the door open and move slowly, to give them time to get inside."

"Got it."

He pulled the door open, then stepped back, holding it for her as she released his arm, seemingly reluctantly, to move through the gap. As she did so, Steve heard what sounded remarkably like a mosquito whining close overhead. He resisted the temptation to look up as first one, then another, then a third whizzed past, followed by a louder noise suggesting several flitterbugs moving together. He followed Lin through the door. She took his arm again as soon as he was inside, and they stood for a moment smiling at each other before he let the door swing shut under pressure from its spring-loaded closer. They turned toward the bank of elevators.

They were halfway there, moving slowly, when Steve heard a muffled exclamation from the clerk on duty behind the counter. From the corner of his eye he saw her slap at the back of her neck, as if she'd just been stung. She held her hand there for a moment, shaking her head, then slumped forward, her head hitting a mug on the desk before her. It fell over, spilling liquid on the desk before rolling off the edge, clattering to the floor.

The noise alerted two men sitting in armchairs to one side, ostensibly watching a holovid display against one wall. They both looked around, startled, and began to rise to their feet, their right hands sliding into the left side of their jackets. One suddenly yelled something, a brief incomprehensible noise, and slapped first at his left eye, then his left cheek, with his left hand; but his right hand continued to reach inside his jacket. Steve knew his actions must be in reaction to a flitterbug's tiny darts penetrating his flesh.

Lin yelled,
"Down!"
as she pushed herself away from Steve, her right hand flashing to the small of her back. It came clear holding a medium-sized black pistol that she expertly swung into line, her left hand rising to steady her right in a braced shooting stance as she aimed the gun towards the two men. As she did so, they also produced pistols from beneath their jackets.

Steve lunged sideways. One of the men, the one who'd slapped at his left eye, swung his pistol after him as he darted past a table behind a sofa. Steve grabbed a vase of artificial flowers from the table without stopping and threw it hard and fast towards the gunman. As he did so, he heard the loud
crack!
of a shot from behind him as Lin beat the other man into action. Her target's head snapped back as a hole appeared between his eyes; then he slumped forward limply to the floor, gun falling from his hand. The wall behind where his head had been was suddenly splotched and stained with blood, splinters of bone and splatters of something gray.

Steve's target ducked wildly as the vase whizzed past his head, spoiling his aim. He staggered, trying to recover his balance and aim his pistol once more, but couldn't raise his arm more than half-way. He stumbled a couple of steps sideways, then fell face-first to the floor, his gun falling unheeded from his hand. He tried falteringly to raise himself, but slumped down once more. This time he didn't move.

Steve glanced at Lin. Her pistol was aimed unwaveringly at his target, ready to deal with any sign of danger. Slowly, as it became clear he was no longer moving, she allowed herself to come upright once more. Keeping her gun aimed, she moved forward to toe the two pistols well away from the motionless bodies, then relaxed as she holstered her own weapon.

"That was good shooting," Steve observed, a little shakily. "You've got great reaction speed, too."

"Thank you. You also reacted very fast, throwing that vase before he could get off a shot. I don't think I've ever seen anyone move that quickly outside a
dojo
."

"Well, having been shot in the ribs a few weeks ago, avoiding another hypersonic bead in the butt is a hell of an incentive to speed!" Steve said with great feeling.

She couldn't restrain a sudden giggle... then they were both laughing aloud, bent forward, clutching their sides, releasing the tension of the last few moments.

Steve's earpiece crackled.
"The watcher and the van's occupants have been dealt with. We'll move in now to clean up."

Lin straightened. "Let's start searching these two while we wait for the clean-up crew. Take everything from their pockets, all their jewelry, everything that's on their fingers or around their wrists or necks." She picked up both pistols and put them on a low table, then set about removing the shoulder holsters and spare magazine carriers from the motionless bodies. "These are very good pistols," she observed approvingly. "They're the same model I carry - a Chronos 89C. It's very expensive, but top quality."

Steve began going through pockets, putting everything on the table as well. He whistled with surprise as he discovered a fat wallet in each man's possession, stuffed with high-denomination notes and prepaid credit chips, plus a small bag of gold
taels
.

"Looks like they were paid in advance for this job," he observed.

"Probably half down and the rest on completion. That's standard for hired guns like these. They weren't very good. Anyone
I'd
trained would have shot me before I was able to react to their movements."

"Then I'm glad you didn't train them."

"Now that you come to mention it, so am I!" They laughed as their eyes met.

"Why are they carrying gold, as well as currency and credit chips? Surely it's not always possible to convert it to cash in a hurry?"

"That's not the point. Banknotes and coins have serial numbers, both readable and woven into them on nanostrands, so they can be tracked. Credit chips can be traced to their issuer - even prepaid ones - and every transaction is recorded. If you deposit money to them, even cash over the counter, you're identifiable from security vid. On the other hand, gold's anonymous. If you need to buy your way out of trouble without your payment being traceable, it's the only way to go. I carry ten
taels
at all times for that purpose. If you're in a place where
taels
aren't widely circulated or accepted, you can use gold coins or precious stones instead."

A group of men, most clad in dark coveralls, trooped through the glass doors. They put down two stretchers by the fallen men, then one went towards the counter to check on the clerk while the others headed for the elevator, carrying more stretchers. One of them asked Steve, "The key to your room, please?"

"Sure." He fished the keychip out of his pocket and handed it over.

"Thank you. We'll leave everything in as good order as possible, but the flitterbugs showed that the men had ransacked your belongings. You'll have to put them away again."

"I'll take care of that."

In ten minutes they were back, carrying two stretchers laden with the motionless bodies of the purported policemen who'd grilled Steve that morning. Only their chests, rising and falling, showed they were still alive. The men carrying them moved to one side of the lobby and waited as their leader, dressed in dark trousers, shirt and jacket, approached Steve.

"Good evening, Mr. Maxwell. I'm Pak, the leader of this team. The Red Pole has instructed us to turn over to you all cash and valuables taken from these men, so you can use them to take care of expenses on your forthcoming journey." He proffered a cloth drawstring bag. "They each had six or seven thousand credits in cash, plus several prepaid credit chips and some gold
taels
." He beckoned another member of his team, who came forward carrying two pistols in shoulder holsters. "They also had these weapons, which the Red Pole says should be left with you in case of future need, as well as those of these men." He nodded at the two men on the floor.