Desperate Measures Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Six

A woman’s familiar voice invaded Jia’s dream.

“It’s an obvious throwaway address.”

Not just familiar. Emma. But why was the AI in Jia’s dream?

“That doesn’t mean anything more than they’re careful,” Erik replied.

His presence in a dream wasn’t unusual. When he shifted on the bed next to her, she realized she wasn’t dreaming.

Jia blinked her eyes open, the blurriness from her long, deep sleep making it difficult to see. Her entire life, she had been getting up early, but she never could claim to be a morning person. She rubbed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths to clear her head.

Emma’s hologram stood next to the bed and Erik was sitting up, wearing nothing but his boxers from the night before. She wanted to throw a pillow at Emma for bothering them in bed.

“You don’t think it’s a trap?” Emma asked.

“It’s interesting timing,” Erik replied. “And you know how I feel about coincidences. It could be a trap, but I’m not going to ignore it because of that possibility.”

Jia yawned. “What’s going on? What trap are you talking about?”

Emma turned to Jia. “Erik received a suspicious message from a throwaway address. Someone wants to meet you both at a modestly priced diner for breakfast and a discussion.”

“Quantum-coded signal?” Jia asked. “Is this from Colonel Adeyemi or Alina? You think they’re in trouble?”

Emma shook her head. “No, it’s a thoroughly conventional message, and I doubt either of them would request help in such a roundabout matter. I would hack the system that sent it, but it’s so obviously a throwaway that I’m dubious it would accomplish much, given the time constraints prior to the meeting, and it might draw unnecessary attention or sanctions. Until we know more about the situation, I think that would only make our situation more tenuous.”

“Not disagreeing, but what’s so suspicious about this message?”

“Who sends me a message asking about brunch?” Erik asked, his face twisted in disgust as if brunch was as disturbing as the conspiracy. “It has this weird final line saying, ‘I do so love flower shops on the moon. This is offered in good faith, but my patience only extends so far.’”

Jia furrowed her brow, thinking about flower shops on the moon. That was a rather odd and specific phrase, and it invoked a strong memory. Not every loose end was always accounted for after their missions.

She narrowed her eyes. “Marius Barbu. It has to be him. If not him, then somebody who knows about him, but I’m assuming it’s him.”

“The fixer from Chang’e City?” Erik looked down in surprise. “Huh. That would explain the weird message, but why would that guy want to come anywhere near us? From what we know, he helped those terrorists arm up. They were shooting at us with weapons he sold.”

“We don’t have a lot of time if we want to get someone else involved,” Jia commented. She slid out of bed and stood. “And we can’t let this go. Our best chance would be asking the NSCPD, but I’d rather not get them involved in anything that might be related to the conspiracy.”

“You think this is a conspiracy thing?” Erik stood and headed toward his closet. Once there, he grabbed some pants.

“Alina said those terrorists on the moon were linked to the conspiracy.” Jia shrugged. “And we took down another conspiracy base. They might have been doing it to get at us, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re on the move, and people in the underworld are going to have a better chance of noticing than the average person.”

“Oh. You’re saying he wants to switch sides? We’re scaring him straight?”

“It’s a possibility, or at a minimum, he doesn’t want us busting into his mansion with exoskeletons and rocket launchers to drag him off to some ID black ops interrogation site.” Jia jogged over to the closet, marveling that she had so many outfits at Erik’s place, and he had so few. “It might also explain why he wants to talk to us. With everything’s that going on, the government can’t be totally trusted, including the ID.”

Erik shoved one leg into his pants. “We’re doing this, then? We’re heading toward a meeting with a fixer asshole who supplied terrorists?”

“We can’t always wait around for Alina to point us at the conspiracy.” Jia snatched her pants from a hanger. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“He kills us both.”

“At brunch? I hope not.” Jia scoffed. “Assassination feels more like a dinner thing to me.”

Erik and Jia headed toward the diner, both scanning the area for anyone or anything out of the ordinary. Modest flitters filled the parking platform. The only one that stood out was Erik’s MX 60. A man smiled approvingly at it on his way to his vehicle.

The pair walked at a slow pace.

They wanted to give Emma plenty of time to prepare. If they were stepping into a trap, they could survive it as long as they had superior control of the area, including surveillance and doors. While the AI didn’t have trouble initiating the necessary hacks, it was difficult to have drones everywhere and not be totally obvious. She’d already hacked the cameras inside the diner and had views of most of the building.

She sent an image of a brown-suited elderly man sitting in a corner booth. A red highlight drew Jia’s attention to a rather thin silver rod half-hanging out of his pocket. The only resemblance to the eyepatch-wearing lunar fixer was his age and lack of hair.

“Any evidence he’s using a holographic disguise?” Erik asked.

“No,” Emma replied. “It could be a lack of movement, but if that is our friend, I doubt there are any holographic tricks involved.”

“He’s not trying to be subtle,” Jia muttered. “Is it just me, or does that look like a privacy device in his pocket?”

“Most people don’t know what they are. It’s not that big a gamble.” Erik shrugged before reaching inside his jacket to check for his weapon.

Both Erik and Jia were armed, the latter with her standard combination of slugthrower and stun pistol. They’d parked the MX 60 close to the diner in case they needed to go back for heavier weapons or explosives.

Jia didn’t need to check for her gun. She knew both were there. The last thing she wanted was a shootout in a crowded restaurant, and she hoped the presence of so many witnesses would discourage anyone from trying anything outrageous.

Even if they didn’t care about their lives, all those people wore PNIUs that could be collected for evidence.

“There is no unusual activity around the area,” Emma reported. “There is an increase in flitter traffic relative to the averages for the day, but nothing out of the ordinary for this specific time of day. The transponder signals for all flitters parked or flying near this area correspond with the public registry records. There are also no unusual sensor readings other than those expected of a privacy device, nor any signals or energy or chemical signatures that might be associated with explosives.”

“Is it that simple?” Jia asked. “He just wants to talk?”

“There are more direct ways to kill people.” Erik opened the front door. “Our boy wants to talk, so we’ll talk. Emma can still use the PNIU to keep an eye on the immediate area, even under jamming, and she’ll let us know if he’s suddenly teleported in a gun with unknown Hunter tech.”

“Don’t even joke about that.” Jia shivered. She wanted to take care of all their human enemies before they needed to worry about aliens, and then she’d rather go through something more reasonable like a space raptor first.

Jia stepped through the door and waved off an approaching hostess to head straight toward the suspect’s table. She didn’t want to be rude, but she also didn’t want to risk taking her attention off the man in those initial critical seconds. Her hands stayed near her sides. There was no point in escalating things unless he tried something.

They could have a nice conversation, or he would understand that Erik and Jia had earned their reputation.

The pair arrived at the man’s table, and the sounds from the rest of the diner died. She’d grown too used to privacy devices for the eerie silence to unsettle her anymore. The man motioned to the booth seat opposite his with a smile.

“I’m glad you chose to come,” the man greeted them, his voice raspy, “Mr. Blackwell and Ms. Lin. I wasn’t sure you would take me up on my invitation, and I don’t blame you if you’re skeptical. I would be if I were in your position.”

If they’d not been convinced it was Barbu before, the raspy voice and wheeze confirmed it.

Jia took a seat, keeping her hands above the table and close to her jacket. Barbu didn’t appear to notice or care.

Erik sat down and stared at the man. “You got our attention, old man. I’m surprised. It was kind of a blunt way of doing it.”

Barbu shrugged lightly. “The problem with people today is they think that the best way to do something is the most modern and baroque.”

“And how did you know we wouldn’t flood this diner with CID agents?”

“Because you have to have realized there was no way I wouldn’t have noticed them coming.” Barbu wheezed. “Besides, we all know you have concerns at higher levels than mere law enforcement, and I think in this case, I can be of service to my fellow man.”

Jia eyed him. “You’re a criminal who sold weapons to terrorists. You call that service to your fellow man? Even if you didn’t know what they intended to do with them, that doesn’t change the fact you armed them, knowing they were going to hurt people. More service?”

“Selling someone something they need is the definition of service, Ms. Lin.” Barbu punctuated his sentence with a wheezing laugh. “My sales were irrelevant, given you were able to handle them.”

“I can’t believe this.” Jia clenched her hands into fists. “You’re sitting here admitting it. We could stun your ass, call the local PD, and have them hand you over to the CID.”

“You could.” Barbu took a deep breath. “But it’d be ill-advised. I’ve taken measures to assure my protection, but the real problem would be your loss of me as a resource.”

“They could make you talk.”

“No, they really couldn’t. Besides, you should welcome my aid. Events I’ve become aware of since the unpleasantness on the moon have made me aware that I

wish

to do my part for the UTC.”

Erik looked the man up and down. “Do your part for the UTC?”

“Yes, Mr. Blackwell.” Barbu looked mildly insulted. “Is that so absurd to believe?”

“You don’t strike me as the altruistic type. Most arms dealers aren’t, Barbu. I’m guessing you’re a lot more than an arms dealer.”

Barbu stroked his chin, then lowered his hand. “No, I’m not the altruistic type. But is it altruism when you help others to ensure your customer base isn’t disrupted? Most businessmen would call that common sense.”

“Is that what this is?” Jia asked. “You’re worried about not being able to sell weapons to other terrorists, so you think you can give us a couple of tidbits, and we’ll recommend the CID let you walk? I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.”

“No, that would be foolish, and not a good bargain for you.” Barbu folded his hands in front of him. “I could explain why I was involved in what happened on the moon, but you have no reason to believe me, and it doesn’t matter. I have something that might be of use to you, and I offer it with no other conditions than you let me leave this place.”

“Why should we trust you?” Erik smirked. “Trust is earned, not automatically given, especially to a scumbag arms dealer.”

“Scumbag?” Erik thought Barbu’s brow lifted, but it was hard to tell with all the other wrinkles. “That is not an accurate description of me, but we'll set that aside for the moment and concentrate on the matter at hand.”

“Which is what?” Jia asked. Her heart pounded with the desire to pull out her stun pistol and demand the man’s surrender. “You’re the one who called us here. Get to the point and stop playing games with us, old man.”

“I hear things,” Barbu wheezed. He put a hand to his mouth and coughed. “Rumors about you and stories about what happened on the moon and the people ultimately responsible, so I’ve looked into things. It’s unwise to be involved in the business I’m in without a rather thorough understanding of the political situation, both in the underworld and outside it.”

“We’re dealing with powerful people, more powerful than you’re used to dealing with,” Erik explained. “This isn’t about random syndicates and insurrectionists playing around.”

“Powerful people? Is that so?” Barbu shook his head lightly. “Power is relative, Mr. Blackwell. There is no one alive who is immortal, and if someone isn’t immortal, they can be stopped—in the worst-case scenario, by killing them.”

“True enough.”

Barbu smiled. “I’m now going to reach into my pocket for a data rod. It might contain information you want, or it might not, depending on your particular interests. I’ll be honest. I’m not sure you two are who I suspect, but if you are, you’ll find the information on the rod useful against your enemies, those powerful people you seem so afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid,” Erik growled. “I’m hunting them, and they should be afraid of

me

.”

“Of course. My mistake.”

Barbu waited, his attention focused on Jia before he reached slowly into his pocket. She jammed her hand into her jacket and gripped her stun pistol without drawing it. Barbu paused for a couple of seconds before producing the data rod, tossing it in front of Jia, and standing.

“As much as I have enjoyed being at your service, I’ve done all I’m willing to do and risked all I’m willing to risk at this time.”

“Meaning what?” Jia couldn’t keep the bite out of her voice. It was taking all her self-control to let the bastard walk.

“As the situation changes, my involvement may change. Have a good day, Ms. Lin.”

Barbu set off for the door, limping. The normal din of a lunchtime crowd returned with his retreat. Jia watched him as he exited the restaurant and headed to an unassuming flitter parked at the front.

“Emma, follow him,” Erik ordered, his voice low.

Jia gingerly picked up the rod as if it might explode. “I honestly don’t know what to think. That went about as well as we could expect, but I don’t trust him.”

“No reason to trust him, but I don’t think it’s that difficult.” Erik inclined his head toward the rod. “There are different layers of scum, and Barbu might not have appreciated being on the run because of what happened on the moon. Remember what they told us about him.”

Jia nodded. “The name’s fake, and he came out of nowhere but quickly established himself. He’s not your common garden variety antisocial piece of trash.”

“Someone like that might have run across our friends before and not thought much of it because it benefited him like it did on the moon.” Erik frowned as Barbu’s flitter windows darkened to opaque, and the vehicle lifted into the air. “He might sell weapons, but their plans are making things far worse. Even criminals have limits, and I’ll take the help for now. The CID can always track his ass down after this is all over, but it doesn’t hurt to see where he ends up.”

Jia frowned as the flitter left the parking platform. “I have a feeling this isn’t the last we’ll see of him.”

Five minutes later, as Jia sipped tea, she heard something far more disturbing—a genuinely apologetic and worried Emma. She set down her cup as the AI delivered the surprising news.

“I don’t know how to explain it.” Emma sighed. “I’ve somehow lost his flitter. One moment, my drones were following it and I had it on camera, and then it was gone.”

“He hacked your drones and the cameras,” Erik suggested.

“Without me knowing?” Emma scoffed, her confident arrogance returning. “That seems unlikely.”

“But it doesn’t change the fact he’s gone,” Erik countered.

“That much is true,” Emma admitted. “Unfortunately.”

“Jump drive on his flitter,” Erik joked. “Oh, well. Less to worry about right now.”

“That would be rather more obvious than what happened.” Emma sounded annoyed.

Jia looked out the diner window at the stream of flitters in the sky. Marius Barbu was somewhere out among the hundred-million people of Neo SoCal. They had not come to the diner to capture him. As long as the data rod held something useful, it wasn’t a wasted trip.

She ran her finger along the data rod. “Let’s be safe about this. You’re right, Erik. Barbu’s a lot more than a simple arms dealer, and he might have attracted the wrong kind of attention. Let’s go back to your place. At least there, we know it’ll be safe to check this out.”