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Fire with Fire(100)

By:CHARLES E. GANNON


The one in the spacesuit was finished, handed Trevor’s gloves back to him. “He’s clean.”

“Fine. Tape him up.”

Trevor’s hands were pulled out in front of him and wound with four wraps of three-inch reflective duct tape. Standard, even amongst amateurs.

The terrorist with the machine pistol waved him over to one of the three chairs at the room’s only table, then waved one of his flunkies toward the storm room.

Who asked: “Whaddya want me to do?”

“Just—check her. See if she’s—I dunno: expecting something, or someone. Christ, do I have to think of everything?”

Back to Trevor: “So you’re here to give me money. That’s very nice of you—and I’ll check into that right away,”—he waved the spacesuited one back outside—“but there’s just one thing that still puzzles me.”

“What’s that?”

“I didn’t ask for any money. As a matter of fact, no one should even know I’m here. So you’d better start shedding some light on your arrival, or I’ll be looking at daylight through the holes I put in you.”

Lines straight from the late-late show. You’re too into the role to remember that you’re just doing a job, huh? Bad for you; good for me.

Trevor made sure to never maintain eye contact very long, to appear moderately nervous. “I figured you were here—”

“You figured?”

“Yes—because when the family called me and reported her missing, I started looking for anything strange outside of Syrtis City.”

“Oh? Why outside?”

“For the reason I’m guessing you left. Pressurized cities—they’re too tight: behind every wall, there’s another room, a corridor, a ventilation shaft. There’s no safe ground. And there’s too much surveillance: the cameras you can see, the fiber-optic peekers that you can’t. You could think you’re safe and sound and well-hidden—and the next thing you know, a SWAT team is blowing a hole in the wall right behind you.”

“Smart boy. Go on.”

“So I figured you’d be heading out—getting distance. You’d want something small, easy to grab, easy to control. Something without a lot of traffic. So I started checking the science outposts—and sure enough, this one was overdue for its commo check. But, since no one else knows the girl is missing, no one knew to think that might mean something more than a malfunction or a downed antenna.”

“But you knew. Because the family called about their pretty, pretty—but not too young—baby.”

“Uh—yeah.”

“And who are you?”

“I do—jobs—for people.”

“Oh?” The gun came up. “What kind of jobs?”

“Please, don’t—no, not those kinds of jobs. Not with guns. But rich families get in trouble sometimes—more than most people realize. And I—I take care of those problems for them.”

The gun went down. “They must be paying you a lot to come out here on your own, not knowing if we were gonna let you in or let you have it.”

“Well—” Careful now: just the way you rehearsed it. Use as much truth as possible: that’s how you’ll get away with the lies.

“Yeah?”

“I know this family. I’ve worked for them before.” True. “And now the father’s dead and the mother’s back on Earth and they didn’t have anyone else to turn to.” Also true. And now the lie. “And yeah, the money’s good.”

“Good enough to risk your life?”

“Good enough that I’ll never have to risk it again.”

The kidnapper with the machine pistol became thoughtful, only looking up when his partner returned from outside, carrying an aluminum briefcase. “How’s it look?”

The other put the briefcase down, popped his helmet. “As advertised. All clear, as far as I can tell.”

“What the hell does that mean, ‘as far as I can tell’?”

“Look, man, you wanted me back quick, right? Well, that means I can’t go wandering around behind every hill and big rock within five klicks. But the buggy’s where he said it is, and empty.”

The one with the machine pistol was about to open the case, halted, thought a moment, reached out and put it on Trevor’s lap. Then he walked behind Trevor, his arms coming around from behind to prepare to undo the clasps.

“You mind being a human shield?”

Trevor shrugged. “Fine by me.”

The clasps snapped, and the briefcase opened without incident. “Good: we’re off to a promising start. No tricks.”