In that context, it didn’t make sense for us to show up together.
If he had set this up, I shouldn’t go.
But they had my daughter, and I was incapable of being rational about her.
The problem from my end is that they’d crossed a personal line, and a professional one. I could not assume any intent not to harm my daughter. I had to break her loose, and then try for Randall.
I said, “I need armored clothing and the most discreet tracers and phone you can give me so you can track me as closely as you can. While I know our people are professionals, I’m not being rational, and I don’t want them interfering. She’s my daughter, I have to do this.”
“I understand,” she said. “I need a div.” She squeezed my shoulder and strode to the door.
I spent a div, 2.7 Earth hours, fretting and running scenarios, and packing away room service food I didn’t taste, but needed.
When she came back, I swallowed enough stims to keep me going for a full day, grabbed the phone, swallowed the transponder, and changed quickly into the clothes. They were neutral tan and gray military style with lots of room to move, and she handed me a day pack.
She said, “Knife, pistol, two flashbangs, spectral glasses, high-strength two-millimeter cord with loops and hook, pick tools, door coder, climbing gloves and foot spikes. Naumann is standing by, and says he understands your request for him to hold off.”
“Understands, dogshit, did he agree?”
“Yes. ‘Tell him I understand and will be nearby waiting.’”
“Good.” Good.
First, meet Randall and determine bona fides. Second, kill everyone between me and my daughter. Third . . . we’d see.
We rented a car for cash, and I let her drive. I was trembling from stress, fatigue and stims when we started. The impending fight calmed me down by the time we drove the twenty segs to the warehouse. Yes, pending life and death warfare calm me down. I am just too fucked up for words.
“There,” I said. It was not a well-populated part of town. They were small and rich, and new construction was cheaper than reusing old stuff. This building had probably been abandoned since the War.
She drove past, I got out a block away, and walked back through the long, Ioset shadows. I trusted her to track and pursue. I hoped she wouldn’t wind up in the fight. Everyone had underestimated Randall and me.
CHAPTER 26
The warehouse was structurally sound, and the windows were hazed but intact. It looked well-boarded, but there was a possible entrance on the side, where there had once been a delivery alley. The buildings on either side might have been occupied since the War, but were also vacant now.
Yes, that door was functional. I found a piece of splintered wood and placed a spare tracer under it. Then I secured my pistol, took a deep breath, and pulled the door. It opened. Nothing obvious jumped at me. I paused, scanned for wires, beams, anything. It was dark and my glasses showed little.
With a bit of distance, his voice said, “It’s safe. Come in and we’ll talk.”
I dove in and tingled and rolled for cover. Whatever field I’d come through—
“That’s to make sure you’re clean,” he said, and stepped out ahead of me. He was far enough away I couldn’t have taken him if I’d wanted to.
Yup. Massive gauss and EM field. Some devices might survive it, but the basic tracker I had, and my phone, were fried.
I said, “I’m a man of my word. First we get my daughter. Then we can discuss the rest.” I could shoot him here, but I didn’t know where to go, and I needed the backup.
He approached, trying to look unworried. Good. This was going to take work, and wasn’t going to be neat, and I was going to let him use himself up.
The universe had no place for heroes or villains.
He said, “So, you really did care about the baby.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Odd way of showing it you had.”
“You have intel?” I asked. This would stay professional, with me playing the sociopath.
It bothered me at last, how easy it was for me to play that.
“Some,” he admitted. “I did a remote recon by eye and drone. I managed to locate the builder’s drawings, too. Here’s how it’s looked for three nights.”
I moved in closer, but sat far enough away to move on him. I trusted him to help Chel; he’d done so before and had a bit of attachment to her back then. It seemed he still did. I wasn’t putting it past him to take me out and then save her, though. In fact, it seemed to me he was considering that.
He’d done a three-D, time-tracked animation of movement. The patterns weren’t perfect, but people do tend to repeat familiar actions on a predictable basis. We ran it several times fast, then slowed to close in on specifics.