Rogue(57)

The clock seemed to alternate between creep and race. The incoming crowd got bigger, additional press and observers queued up at checkpoints for clearance, and float platforms started rising.

Silver spoke while staring through her headset, “I spoofed the CNA codes and our floaters are IFFing as theirs. I have all three in cross angles.”

“Excellent. It’s almost time.”

Would this work? It could be a disaster several different ways.

“Here they come,” I said. Long lines of limos and escort trucks and police on zipcycles.

The security wasn’t bad. That is, it was functional instead of showy. The motorcades were timed and coordinated, and one that missed the cue just circled the square rather than wait. It pulled up, its occupant stepped out with his two associates, there was some cheering and waving, a few handshakes and up the concourse he went.

Alrab was next. I recognized the vehicles. There were five. He’d almost certainly be in the middle regardless. Point and Charlie were just blocks. I was right. Number Two pulled up, someone opened the door, and he stepped out.

Once up, he waved. He turned, gestured the other way, then started a leisurely advance up the carpet. He wore a cheery smile, and his detail moved in around him.

Then ten men stepped over the rope and coalesced around him. The makeup was good enough to make target ID all but impossible.

Silver had her scanners running.

The media went berserk trying to figure out what was going on. Cameras on float platforms zoomed in from all over. The police stared stupidly for several seconds. This wasn’t an overt threat, and hours of standing had lulled them.

Alrab’s security went schizo and closed in in a box, then rushed him up the plaza into the building. The doubles did as we’d rehearsed, shook hands with people, smiled, talked about how great the day was. Three of them made it as far as the door. They were all apprehended, surprisingly peacefully, and Alrab was unharmed.

Phase One had gone well.

“I have possible traces,” Silver said.

“So now we watch the exit.”

One of my concerns was that the local security apparatus would be looking for people like us, especially after a potential threat of that kind. Our balcony was probably safe, and we sat well back inside looking through sheer fabric that would destroy incoming visibility. I wasn’t sure where offworlders would fall on the threat list, though. They might be actively looking.

“Definitely him,” she said. “Upwind that way.” She nodded with her head, toward the east.

“That’s where the exit is going to be. He’ll have a narrow window as Alrab exits the building. At worst, he’ll have goons in the way. At best, complete exposure from those windows there.”

“Unless he’s using remote eyes and some kind of flight warhead. He has better access to the black market than we do.”

“Crap. You’re right.”

“This fits with it being a stale trace. He set stuff in place, but isn’t going to be on hand for the kill this time.”

“Neither should we. Where would he get those devices?”

“There are only three makers, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I am.”

“ArthroLogic is in the Freehold, AnimaWings come from Stoltze BioTech—those are gene mod insects with micro implants, and Spy Gnats come from Kaman on Earth.”

“He’d be more familiar with Arthro, I presume, but Stoltze stuff is ubermodern, which fits his persona.”

“Okay, do you want me to check purchase orders?”

“Can’t hurt, though I doubt they went to him. If we’re able to snag one we can try to ID it. I do want you to look for residue now and after exit.”

“What are we doing about the exit?”

“Nothing. I’m going to trust Alrab’s now-aware security, and look for Randall.”

I used the telescopic camera and swept that building, looking for anything suspicious in line with the concourse. There were people at windows and balconies in the surrounding buildings, but none of them were him.

So, I used it to zoom for possible insects or drones. We had our mock birds on a cornice, but any lead time was helpful. When Alrab came out, Silver would launch it, but if we knew where to send it, that would increase our probability of success.

There were definitely dronesects in the area, but some were probably media, some commercial espionage devices, some security . . . there was just no way to control everything that went on. As I’d told the captain at Caledonia’s station, welcome to my world.

Three hours went by with no significant information.

“They’re heading out now,” she said.

“Got it.” I strained to see anything.