Rogue(115)

However, I had my own issues. Someone stepped up to me and took my injured arm. It was still weak, hurt after the fight with the cop, and caused me to be a little less than graceful. I kicked his knee sideways in a fashion designed to be effective even through flex-armor, disengaged and kept going.

It would have worked, except they’d correctly decided it was worth a large response to get me. A drone package whipped overhead and dropped a sticky net over the entire corner. In seconds, I was surrounded by more than a squad with heavy stunners and obviously twitchy trigger fingers.

I hoped Silver was free.





CHAPTER 24





Earth cops know how to arrest someone.

I was immobilized in a field, and when the effect went away, I was out of the web, shackled with hands to a belt, strapped to a dolly with a blindfold and mouth bit. “For the detainees’ protection,” they insist. They don’t explain why.

The process actually was rather fast. They wheeled me into a vehicle, I was driven around somewhere with three other detainees; I could hear their breathing and smell them. We stopped, they undogged us, rolled us inside. When I didn’t read on their implant scanner, someone pulled the gag and asked, “Passport.”

“Left chest pocket,” I said.

He replaced the gag, too. Bastard.

It probably wasn’t over thirty minutes, but felt forever in those restraints. I was released under immobility, and when it stopped, I was in a cell. At least I was alone this time.

I had nothing, though. They’d stripped every item from every pocket. None of it would be suspicious, but a lot of it was useful.

As there was nothing else to do, I lay down and waited.

The clock/vid/scheduler on the wall kept time. I ignored the sports and shock shows. I just didn’t feel like putting on any particular act. Nothing is harder to read than no act at all.

When they finally came for me, four hours later, there were no restraints. Two guards and I were locked through section by section, until I was left alone in an interview room. I took a seat. A few minutes later, with a camera indicating recording in progress, a man came in.

“Good day,” he said. He didn’t mean it. He wore a plain but expensive suit and obviously had money for biosculp.

“Hello,” I agreed.

“From your DNA and image, you are a certain individual wanted for some activities fifteen years ago. Do you mind if I am not specific at this point in the conversation?” It was the voice of a viper.

“I don’t mind.” Oh, shit. I was going to die. Shock trickled through me, icy in my fingers and toes, and my balls shriveled up along with my ass.

He sat down and stared at me. “You are definitely confirmed as that individual. This is problematic from both a public relations and an international relations point of view.”

“I understand,” I said.

“Good. I must have positive confirmation of your intentions on Earth, or there will be problems.”

“May I ask who you are?” I asked.

“Here,” he said. He took out ID and laid it on the table, using his hand to shield it from the camera.

Deputy Director for Foreign Intelligence Vandler. I thought back to their hierarchy. This was the number four person in the UN intelligence apparatus.

“I see,” I acknowledged.

“I don’t have your name,” he said. “I don’t really need it. Who you are and what you did is on record. I really do need that information.”

I appreciated that he was treating me as a fellow professional. What he was saying was, “Either you assure me you’re not here on business, or you don’t leave this room alive and the file gets scrubbed. Believe it.”

“I am here on tangentially related business,” I said. I might actually live through this. I’d need to talk carefully.

Oh, did that get his attention. He started sweating.

“I need you to elaborate,” he said, fingering his phone.

Okay, he was who he said he was. No one could fake that reaction if they hadn’t studied what I did.

“I am not here to cause trouble on Earth. That was a long time ago, and no good could come of revisiting it.”

“Yes.” He nodded. He still fingered the phone, ready to make that call . . .

“One of my former subordinates is here to cause trouble. He’s why I was leaked. He did it. He implemented that incident yesterday. I’m here to stop him.”

He clearly had someone feeding him audio. He paused, nodded and said, “We require that you move that activity out of Sol space. Immediately.”

“That’s up to him, and you,” I said. “If you order me to leave, I will. I was trying to. He’s killed two people, though, and probably plans to kill others. Likely people high enough to create a major incident. You are obviously aware that you can’t stop him.”