DeathWeb (Fox Meridian Book 3) (24 page)

Bateson stepped aside. ‘You found something concerning my daughter?’

‘Miss Meridian has uncovered a fair amount of evidence to suggest that she
did
run away,’ Rogers replied when the door was closed behind them.

‘
You
were supposed to be looking for the ones who took her.’

‘The thing about evidence,’ Fox said, ‘is that it tells you what it does, not what you want it to.’

‘In this case,’ Rogers went on, turning and walking through to the lounge, ‘it told us that she ran, and why. Good evening, Mrs Bateson.’

Crystal was sitting down, on the sofa, back straight, knees together, and nervous as Hell. Fox could see signs of further make-up to cover a black eye. ‘Good evening, Detective, Miss Meridian.’ Malcolm entered the room and Crystal’s eyes clouded with fear.

‘What do you mean?’ Malcolm asked. He stopped, folded his arms, in front of the door. ‘I know why she left. She was taken–’

‘No,’ Fox said. ‘Sandy ran. It happens that she ran south, not north, but she ran. Ran away from her abusive father, a man who beats her regularly, beats her mother. And when he gets a little
too
much alcohol in him–’

‘You’ve no proof of any–’

‘When he gets too drunk,’ Fox shouted over him, ‘he goes to her bed and forces her to have sex. And you know what? That’s almost a small matter compared to the fact that you were going to whore your daughter out for a position in the Watch.’

‘Why you…’

Fox watched as he unfolded his arms, right leg stepping back as he prepared himself for the punch. If he had sent her an email the week before explaining what would happen, he could not have telegraphed the move more thoroughly. She pushed the blow aside, caught his arm, folded it easily, twisted…

‘Let go of me!’ Bateson roared, struggling to break free. He had the body mass, he was heavier than Fox, but he was nowhere near as skilled and was physically weaker.

‘Shut the fuck up,’ Fox told him, and she pushed his arm up his back. Bateson let out a shriek of pain.

‘Shit! I think you broke my arm!’

‘Torn ligaments at worst. Shut up.’

‘You can’t prove–’

‘We can,’ Rogers snapped. ‘Your daughter had a diary, Bateson. An audio diary and you were stupid enough to come in on her while she was recording. It caught all of it you sick piece of dog shit. Add in the semen traces Miss Meridian found on the mattress and we have you.’ He pulled restraints from his pocket and stepped around to take Malcolm off Fox. ‘We have you.’

‘Crystal?’ Fox said when Rogers had locked the cuffs on Malcolm. ‘We need you to help now. Help yourself and your daughter. You changed her sheets. You knew what your husband was doing. From what Sandy said, and what I can see, he hits you just as much as her. You need to make a complaint, tell us everything you know. Otherwise you’re an accessory.’

‘You keep silent!’ Malcolm roared, followed by a cry of pain as Rogers yanked him back toward the door.

‘There’s someone here from victim support, Crystal,’ Fox went on. ‘They can help you.’

‘I… couldn’t let him give her to Druss,’ Crystal said, her voice dazed, slightly panicked. ‘I knew about the boy. I heard them talking at the market. I couldn’t let him give her to Druss so…’

‘You just went up a little in my estimations, Crystal, but she can’t stay down there.’

‘You’re going to bring her back? You know where she is?’

‘Not yet, but I will soon enough.’ Fox looked at Rogers. ‘Let’s get this sack of puss into a cell.’

‘Don’t have to tell me twice.’

Tulsa Area, Southern Protectorate, 1
^st
July.

Tulsa was not the worst place to live in the protectorates. It was a fair way north and suffered a little less from the tornados which plagued various areas further south. It was not a stranger to extreme weather, however, and the architecture had adapted to that, and the general northward exodus. The result was a square city area built up of square apartment blocks with fairly narrow alleyways between them. According to Kit’s research, the aerodynamics had been designed to disrupt circular airflow and handle floods. Fox was not entirely sure about that, but she was not staying.

With Pythia’s vertol in a secure hangar MarTech kept in the city, Fox took her Q-bug and set out to the north dressed in her duster-girl outfit, but now with her pistol clasped to her belts behind her back.

‘The surveillance frame is still circling the camp,’ Kit said.

‘No chance of it being spotted?’

‘Unlikely. It’s one of MarTech Defence Technologies’ latest stealth models. Full active camouflage, and it has the radar cross-section of a sparrow. It’s using passive sensors only so there’s nothing to detect, even if they had the equipment to do so. It has not, however, been able to identify Sandy among the inhabitants.’

‘What about Drew?’

‘He has been spotted. He appears to have a cabin of some sort on the north-western side of the encampment. They have made the area a relatively fixed camp with buildings they’ve constructed themselves. The frame has spotted what appears to be the entrance to a bunker at its centre, presumably a refuge from tornados. The region is not especially prone to flooding. It’s on the shores of the Oologah Lake.’

‘Good water source. That’ll be important for Sandy.’

‘The floods which happen here do not provide sufficient water for the inhabitants?’

Fox smiled. ‘The city was designed to handle it long before the climate changes hit hard. Tulsa had extensive flood defences as far back as the early century. When things became more… random, they started storing flood water to even out the supply. Without that, the flood water drains too quickly to be viable all year round. Did you ask me that to make me feel like I was contributing to the conversation, or did you actually not know?’

‘I… wasn’t aware of the historic information. I did not dig that deep.’

‘Huh. ETA?’

‘You have that information on your in-vision display from the vehicle’s navigation system.’

‘I do, don’t I?’

There were roads partway there, but the camp had been built on a promontory with not even a track to its name. Luckily, the Q-bug was designed for off-roading, one of the reasons she had selected it for transport. As they got closer, it became obvious that all the cabins had been built up on stilts to provide some defence against flooding. Something else caught Fox’s attention as well.

‘They have a wireless data link,’ Kit said.

‘Yes, I can see the antenna. Central cabin. The largest. Probably a communal hub. It’s right beside the bunker.’

‘That makes sense. Their local network has only basic security. We have access.’

‘Okay. See what you can see. Oh, and run scans on everyone we can see. I want to know if anyone here has an online presence.’

Fox drove into the camp, eyes scanning the inhabitants. She was coming in on the north side and her gaze swept out to the cabin Drew had been sighted outside. There was no sign of anyone there. The people she did see followed the same pattern as the people she had seen on the stall, or herself. All of them, she guessed, had been altered to survive better in the conditions of the protectorate. All of them looked her over but did not seem too worried by the girl in the skimpy outfit, even if she was carrying a pistol; the truth was that everyone she saw was armed with something, even if it was only a knife.

‘This is where your training trumps my research capabilities,’ Kit said. ‘You know how to act around these people and I don’t.’

‘Uh-huh. The Army’s useful for something aside from shooting people.’

‘I’m more concerned about you getting shot at this point.’

Fox smiled. ‘Not going to happen, Kit.’ Then she spotted the man standing near the central hut with the thick beard. There was a large pistol strapped to his thigh. ‘Well, it might take a bit of talking.’

‘You get around,’ the beard said. ‘Fox, wasn’t it?’

‘I didn’t get your name.’

‘Cable. Baxter Cable. What brings you here, Fox? Still looking for Drew? Or did you want a new belt?’

Fox smiled, taking in the man, the surroundings. His right arm was hanging, but there was slight tension in it, ready to move for the pistol. Off to the right was a woman in a leather bra and short skirt, but the shotgun in her hands was of more interest. On the left, thinking he was out of sight, but in clear view of the wide view from the Q-bug, was a man already lifting a heavy, automatic pistol free of its holster.

‘Cable is ex-military,’ Kit said. ‘Dropped off the grid twenty years ago. He was special forces. I’ve also located an online image in LifeWeb. It was posted three days ago by a woman named Peri Anne Ross and it shows her with Drew and Sandy.’

‘Thanks, Kit. That’ll work.’ Aloud she said, ‘You know, if the guy in the tie-dye shirt is going to shoot me, you could at least offer me a drink first.’

‘That’s going to work?’ Kit asked.

‘The dustbowl gangs have a big thing about hospitality. They consider themselves modern Vikings. The culture leaked into their more civilised brethren.’

Cable was nodding. ‘That’s fair. Come on inside.’

The cabin was one, large, open room and some back offices. Fox figured that the offices contained the communications gear, probably some form of computer. The room had chairs, all sorts of random ones from the looks of them. Cable waved her to sit. ‘Whiskey?’

‘That’s good. I’m not here to cause anyone any harm, Mister Cable.’

‘Then why are you here?’

‘I’m looking for someone who’s in some trouble.’

‘Drew’s not in any trouble, and you’re not a cop. What? Army?’

‘Ex. Ex-Army, ex-UNTPP, ex-NAPA. I work for Palladium Security Solutions now.’

‘Heard of them. That’s the bunch Jackson Martins put together.’

Fox smiled at him as she took her glass. ‘I’m his chief investigating officer. I’ll have some staff in about nineteen days.’ The whiskey was harsh, not exactly good stuff, but she swallowed it without coughing.

‘So, what is it you want with Drew?’

‘Nothing. But he came back last week with his girlfriend from Topeka. Sandy Bateson.’

‘I don’t know anything–’

‘And three days ago, Peri Anne Ross posted a picture on LifeWeb which has her, Drew, and Sandy in it. Yesterday I was there when Sandy’s father was arrested for domestic assault and the rape of a minor. The charges
will
stick, and they’ll likely cause a lot of embarrassment for a local vote broker by the name of Cory Druss. He seems like the kind of man to hold a grudge, and he’s got the money to pay for someone to come down here and make sure Sandy’s not around to testify.’

Cable’s head sagged forward. ‘Huh. Peri and her LifeWeb. I told that girl it’s better to stay off the net, but she’s young, into that kind of thing.’

‘Sandy’s not set up for living here. She’ll be suffering soon enough and she’s a drain on your water supply. She’s seventeen, Mister Cable. No one legal is going to do the mods for her and you know what the illegal sources are like. Let me talk to her.’

There was silence. Then, ‘How’s the whiskey?’

‘You mean this paint stripper you bottle?’

His laugh was rasping. ‘It’s an acquired taste. Not sure I’ve ever really acquired it. Okay, you talk to them, see where that goes.’

‘Fox,’ Kit broke in, ‘I have a signal through from the Tulsa station. There is a storm front swinging in from the south. Forty-eight per cent probability of tornados this evening, seventy per cent chance of lightning.’

‘Get a signal to the drone. Tell it to return to base.’ Fox looked across at Cable. ‘Looks like I may have to overstay my welcome. There’s a storm front coming in.’

Frowning, Cable looked at the woman with him. ‘Patsy?’

‘I’ll check it,’ Patsy replied and headed for the back.

‘We’ll get your bug stowed away. We can put you up for the night, whatever Drew and Sandy say. Best if you stay here. We’ll bring them over and you can have your talk.’

‘Fine,’ Fox said, putting down her glass. ‘Where do I put my ride? It’s new and I don’t want to lose it just yet.’

~~~

Sandy Bateson looked incredibly nervous. Fox could understand that. Here was this woman turning up, knowing who she was and, apparently, why she was there. Sandy had never seen Fox before and what she saw was a woman dressed like a duster-girl, but sounding like a cop. And Fox knew in far too much detail the life Sandy had run from.

Drew was being protective, holding Sandy’s hand, making sure he was near her at all times. When Sandy sat, Drew stood beside her chair. Fox had never believed in love at first sight, but she was apparently looking at ‘love from a few Wednesdays spent together.’ Maybe that was different.

‘Sandy, Drew, I’m Tara Meridian. Everyone calls me Fox.’

‘What do you want?’ Drew asked. His voice held a lot of hostility. Fox could understand that too.

‘Drew,’ Sandy said, her voice hesitant, but trying to sound reasonable, ‘take it easy. You’re from Topeka, Miss Meridian?’

‘Fox, and I’m from New York. Topeka originally. I grew up there.’ She glanced at Cable. ‘My parents really didn’t like me running off to join the Army.’

Cable gave a grunt of a laugh. ‘My old man couldn’t wait to see me go.’

‘I know Mrs Meridian,’ Sandy said. ‘I’ve seen her with Mister D-Druss.’

‘Yes, you may have. She spent several minutes throwing her lunch up on the workshop floor yesterday because she “knows” Cory Druss. I found your PC, Sandy, the one Nicky gave to you. Did you ever listen back to the last thing you recorded on it?’

‘I don’t…’ Sandy’s eyes widened.

‘Yeah. I’m sorry. I had to listen to it. I’m
really
sorry.’ Sandy was blushing, horribly embarrassed. Fox’s heart felt like someone was squeezing it. ‘You’ve nothing to be ashamed of, Sandy,
nothing
. Your… Malcolm Bateson is a monster, and now he’s a monster with a busted arm, in a cage.’

‘You broke his arm?’ Cable asked.

‘Torn ligaments. He won’t be using it to hit anyone any time soon.’

‘I’d’ve–’

‘I had a cop with me. Then again, I think Detective Rogers wanted to do worse.’