Too right, you chakaar. Bard’ika went to a lot of trouble to make me invisible. Skirata was ten minutes by speeder bike from the plaza. “I can just about make it if I hurry.”
“This is just for a conversation. Be there, and don’t bring anyone else.”
The comlink went dead. Obrim chewed, silent, but his look said it all.
Skirata reached in his pocket and put some credits on the table to cover the bill. “You’re deaf and blind, remember?”
Obrim pushed the credits back at him. “You pick up the tab next timer’
It was his good-luck ritual. Obrim seemed to hope that by saying it, he’d ensure there was a next time.
Skirata had every intention of making sure there would be.
Lower level, skylane 348, 0820 hours, 385 days after Geonosis
Skirata kept the speeder at a steady pace and looped back on himself a couple of times. There was no reason to expect anyone to be following him, but he assumed it anyway. The maneuver also padded out the ten-minute journey to a credible half hour.
No point being too early.
His ankle was agony today.
“Bard’ika, how are you doing?”
Jusik’s voice came over the comlink. “We’ve tracked a target moving to the plaza from the house that Fi and Sev recced. I think that confirms it’s Perrive.”
“But he won’t come alone.”
“So that means he’ll probably have minders nearby that we haven’t tagged. New ones.”
“Fine.”
“Vau’s on his way,” Jusik said. “They won’t recognize him.”
“And you?”
“I’m already there.”
“Fierfek. He knows you. Wait for orders-“
“Trust me, he won’t see me at all.”
“Stand down. Get out of there.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it. And I’m going off the comlink now, unless I hit real problems.”
He shut the link, exasperated. But it was his own fault. You couldn’t delegate that much to a kid and then expect him to read your mind and work out when he was supposed to wait for specific orders again.
And he was a Jedi, after all. He could take care of himself. Skirata pushed a bead comlink into his ear and brought the speeder down in the public parking area. Enacca said she was fed up collecting abandoned speeders from around the city, and wanted to know why they couldn’t bring their vessels and vehicles back with them every time. The logistics of operations like this depended on a lot of grim drudgery. He’d have to sweeten her up somehow when all this was over.
Out in the plaza, by the bench where he had awaited the Separatists the day before, stood Perrive.
He was busy looking like an executive waiting for a colleague: suit, document case, polished shoes. Skirata walked up to the man as briskly as he could with a complaining ankle.
“Okay, what’s the deal?” Skirata said. He tried to focus on Perrive and not look over his shoulder for possible threats or-to be precise-Walon Vau. “I can get you the dets in twenty-four hours.”
“Let’s discuss this somewhere less crowded.”
Those were often the worst words to hear at times like this. “Where?”
“Follow me.”
Fierfek. He hoped Vau was watching him or Jusik was monitoring the conversation carefully. If Perrive moved too far out of the comlink’s limited mike range, he’d have to make stupidly obvious comments to clue them in. Perrive didn’t strike him as quite that naive, even if his surveillance team was some way short of professional.
If Vau was here, Skirata couldn’t see him.
But that was the point, and Vau was a very skilled operator.
Skirata followed Perrive across the plaza and back to the speeder parking area, a few moments that made him glad that he had a limp. It gave Vau, he hoped, a little more time to work out what was happening. Perrive stood looking around, and a shiny new green speeder with a closed cabin rose from below the level of the parking platform and maneuvered sideways to set down.
Ah well, Skirata thought. I’d have done the same. But Perrives lungs are coated with marker Dust, and Jusik can track this crate all the way.
“Off you go:’ Perrive said.
“You’re not coming, too?” Oh no, no, no. Why didn’t I dose myself with some of that di’kutla Dust? “Forgive me if I get nervous about the quality of your associates’ driving.”
“Don’t worry. All they’ll do is blindfold you. Keep whatever weapons I’m sure you’re carrying. I’ll see you at our destination.”
Skirata had no choice but to get in. Two human males-both about thirty, one shaven-headed, one with thin blond hair scraped back in a tail, neither of them the hired help they had tagged yesterday-sat in the front seat, and the bald one leaned over to place a black fabric bag over his head in total silence. Skirata folded his arms to feel the comfort of his assorted hardware in his sleeve, holster, and belt.