Wings of Steele- The Series, page 189
part #1 of Wings of Steele Series
“Apologies, Inspector, we've had a shift change. This is what was caught in the incoming Zeta checkpoint.” She directed his attention to the video.
“Help me out here, Sweetness, what am I looking at?”
“Here, this man,” she pointed, “he has an implant.” She switched color frequencies to something resembling night vision, catching a vibrant glow in the man's left eye.
“What's your point?” asked Brooker. “Lots of people have implants...”
She drew his attention to the readouts, “His heart rate changes but his breathing remains even. It just appeared odd to the operator.” She indicated the other people with the man in the video, “These three people with him had no such reaction. Now, the data cores are still checking facials but this man, the big one with the face tattoo, is a known pirate. We haven't seen him here in five or six years...”
Brooker rubbed the stubble on his chin, “Well, being a pirate isn't a crime, at least not on G'Naroth Sarat. But it might warrant a look. Nothing on the other three then...”
“Not yet, Inspector.”
“Send this to my office - and stay on this. It's probably nothing but this is your assignment until we know more. If I'm not in my office, use my MOBIUS.”
“I understand, Inspector.”
■ ■ ■
It wasn't until the train emerged from the tunnel and rain splattered the roof of the train that Jack and Mercedes realized the roof of the train was glass. It curved over the top and down the sides to about waist level, allowing an uninterrupted view of the city around them. The metro system rose several stories above the streets, the antigravity bed supported by the surrounding buildings. When a vehicle passed overhead he involuntarily sucked in, quickly realizing traffic passed around them at multiple levels, above and below.
“Hoh,” huffed Mercedes, “It's - it's like Blade Runner or the Fifth Element... This - this is unbelievable.”
Steele chuckled, “Says the woman who flew here across space. Through jump gates. Across multiple solar systems. On a star ship.”
“Yeah, well... allow me my amazement, will you? I've just stepped into a movie I grew up with.”
“What I find remarkable,” whispered Jack, “is the amazing accuracy of foresight in some of our Hollywood directors like Ridley Scott and George Lucas...”
“Makes you wonder if they knew something we didn't,” replied Mercedes, glued to the window.
Steele tugged on her elbow as he rose from his seat, “C'mon, this is our stop...”
■ ■ ■
At street level, clear awnings extended over the sidewalks, automatically activated by the rain. Under their protection, Jack Steele and Mercedes Huang wove their way along the crowded sidewalks past shops, businesses, massive corporations and the occasional sidewalk vendor selling all manner of goods.
“Smells good,” commented Steele, his stomach reminding him it had missed an earlier meal.
“Remember what Ragnaar said,” reminded Mercedes, wagging her finger at him.
“I know, I know. Just saying.” Steele paused, looking in a shop window at nothing in particular.
“What are you looking at?” Mercedes wondered aloud, standing next to him, looking at the same nothing.
“I think we're being followed.”
“The woman in the navy-blue jacket?”
Steele glanced at Mercedes out of the corner of his eye without turning his head, “No, where do you see her? I'm talking about the guy in the gray suit and hat across the street.”
“I see him,” said Mercedes shifting her body, looking at the reflection in the glass over her shoulder. “Are you sure about him?”
“He moves when we move, stops when we stop...”
“Hmm,” snorted Mercedes, “Not too obvious then, huh?”
“Where's the woman?” asked Jack.
“Same side as we're on, about thirty-feet back. She ducked into a business when we stopped.”
Jack took her by the hand and they walked leisurely, hand-in-hand trying to catch glimpses in the windows they passed. They paused and Jack gently spun Mercedes into a hug, looking over her shoulder. “Yep. Got her.” The woman quickly hailed a cab, the vehicle descending from an air-lane above the street. “Dammit,” he groaned, “she knows I made her.”
“What do you suppose they want?” asked Mercedes as they unwrapped and walked on.
The cab eased past, ascending back into an air-lane above the street, the woman peering at them through tinted windows. Steele couldn't help but smile, catching it out of the corner of his eye. “I don't know...” It just reminded him how naked he felt without a weapon on him. Suddenly intrigued, he steered Mercedes through the front doors of a business with oversized spaceship models decorating the lobby and interior.
“Toys?” she asked, a sarcastic tone adding volumes to the single word inquiry.
“Dealership. I think.”
■ ■ ■
Having been summoned on his MOBIUS, Inspector Brooker strolled back through the Data Bridge door, “What have you got for me, Sweetness?”
“You be the judge, Inspector...” Motioning to an empty chair, the female Data Bridge officer with the short platinum hair pulled up digital reports on her twin screens as he rolled up next to her. “The guy with the facial tattoo is a pirate named Ragnaar. He has, or had, a brother named Deeter, also a pirate. There are no records of either one having being seen in the last five to six years - either here or anywhere else... Until just recently.” She tapped Ragnaar's image on the screen, “Our friend here, was spotted at Nelson's Point with this man,” she tapped on Jack Steele's image.
“What about the other two?” asked Brooker.
“They were also seen together at Nelsons Point...”
“So they've switched partners?”
“It appears so. And these two,” she pointed at Chase Holt and Mercedes Huang, “were wanted for questioning about an incident that happened at one of the station's repair docks...”
“What kind of incident?” he interrupted.
“Nelson's Point wasn't terribly forthcoming with the details, but the best I could gather, two bodies were recovered in the maintenance ring and it was in the same vicinity that a freelancer's ship was destroyed, right at the repair dock.”
“What? How?”
“I heard mysterious explosion, I heard GOD jump malfunction where a section of the ship jumped leaving the rest behind in segments. Depends on who you talk to...”
Brooker shook his head, “I've never heard of a jump malfunction like that - I wonder if it's even possible.” He motioned toward their pictures, “Do we have names for these two?”
“No. But here's where it starts to get involved...” She pointed at Steele's photo, “This guy, Jax Mercury, is the one who refused the station's requests for crew interviews. It's not clear if he's the captain or owner of the Perseus. When the Station refused to let his ship depart until the security teams could conduct the interviews, the Perseus forced itself free, tearing off a docking arm and destroying a docking spoke that was still attached. Then it outran a gunship that tried to pursue it...”
Brooker pointed to an image of the Perseus, “That thing?” He pursed his lips, “Sounds awfully guilty to me... Send out a service crew to visually inspect the exterior of their ship. See if we can confirm any damage without tipping our hand.”
She nodded. “But there's more...”
Brooker's eyes narrowed, “More...” he repeated, deadpan.
“There's another hit on his name, about a year ago. It's lengthy. It occurred at Rikovik's Reef...”
“Ugh,” he grunted, “garbage heap.”
She pulled up a rough outline of the Revenge. “He docked in a frigate called the Raven, it was reported they were searching for salvage parts.”
“Sounds reasonable enough...”
“Except there was some kind of firefight in the industrial sector near the establishment they had been directed to and several locals were killed. Video footage from a transport vehicle placed him in the vicinity. While security teams were searching for the suspects, his group temporarily disappeared. Mercury reappeared later, on the Island...”
“That's the Syndicate side of the Reef...” coughed Brooker.
“Aaand,” she continued, “another firefight ensued. He broke out a harem of the Syndicate's girls, killed several of their men, stole a yacht, severely damaged the yacht basin, and destroyed two security patrol craft in the process of escaping to Aegeron Pass with the assistance of his ship, The Raven.”
Brooker ran his hand over his shaved head, “Who, what is this guy? Pirates don't even mess with the Syndicate.” He stared at Steele's picture on the screen, “Mr. Mercury is either lucky or crazy...”
“Or both,” offered the Data Bridge officer.
“In any case he's dangerous.” Brooker's stare persisted, “What are you, Mercury... Pirate? Freelancer? Contractor...?” He snapped out of his thoughts, “Where are they now?”
“Looks like the pirate and the other man got off at the Trade Exchange building, here,” she pointed at the Metro map on the screen.
“Then they split up. Where's Mercury and the woman?”
“Got off the Metro at Central Street Square and proceeded up Central on foot. They don't seem to be in any hurry...”
He tapped on the edge of the monitor, “Cameras?”
She made a face of distaste, “That whole sector of Central has been a problem. Maintenance doesn't know if it's our controllers up here, or bad lines out in the field. They've been working on it for almost a week. Again.”
The Inspector cursed under his breath, “Do we have anybody out there?”
“Two plainclothes observing.”
Brooker straightened up and tapped on his MOBIUS, “Good, link us up. I'm heading out there.”
■ ■ ■
Steele examined a model perched on a pedestal, admiring the ship's lines as he glanced past it through the showroom window across the street at the man in the gray suit and hat. The woman in the blue jacket had returned, sitting at an open-air cafe not far from her partner. The rain had stopped and the awnings were retracting against the buildings.
“Welcome to Zin's. Isn't she a beauty?” asked the salesman, as he strolled casually across the sales floor. “I'm Zin.” He was impeccably dressed, and his pale, flawless, smooth skin, looked uncomfortably drum-tight. “I have one to test fly sitting on alpha two-two...”
“Tell me more about her,” said Steele, running his finger along the lines of the ship while keeping an eye on the darkening street, lights flickering to life as the shadows deepened.
“You have a good eye, sir,” complimented Zin, “the Velocitor is in a class by herself. She accepts a crew of four, with accommodations for two more, for a total of six...”
“Just in case you have... passengers,” commented Steele with a hint of sarcasm.
“Exactly,” continued Zin. “Designed for rather long range for a ship of her size, she has a small, shielded, cargo capacity, for that more... compact, extra-valuable cargo,” he smirked smugly. “Very popular with certain sectors of the business delivery community.”
Steele nodded his appreciation. Like smugglers. “Armor, shields, armament?”
“She comes well equipped, and she's very fast.” The model lit up in sections as he spoke of the highlights; “Four gimbal-mounted forward guns, with a twenty-degree arc. One top turret with two guns - unobstructed firing arc. And one bottom turret at the stern with two guns that has a forty-five-degree arc. Her armor is a light composite - but very sturdy and she has very special, fourth generation, Garland-Pulmon particle shields. Very tough, very fast recharge.”
“Power system?”
“Heavy duty, also by Garland-Pulmon. Well suited to keep all her systems fed with plenty of reserve. Even adequate for the optional GOD Drive...”
Steele was casually eyeing a third man who had joined the other two, a hover car lifting away, leaving him at the sidewalk cafe. “Can the ship you have in stock accommodate the drive unit?”
“Our demo does have a GOD drive. However, if you purchased a standard Velocitor it could be retrofitted with some modifications,” nodded Zin. “With the drive, you sacrifice the extra two seats and a small portion of your cargo space...”
“A fair tradeoff,” smiled Steele, turning away from the windows.
“You would of course have to bring her back here to the dealership for the upgrade...”
Steele nodded, “Of course...” He pinched his lower lip, “Uhh, considering you accommodate, er, clients from all walks of life...”
“Yes...?”
“I'm assuming you have a back exit...”
■ ■ ■
After a circuitous route to be assured they hadn't been followed, the customer service driver for Zin's dealership descended the limousine from an air-lane to the entrance of The Black Hole Bar & Grille. Opening with a hum, the vehicle's door swung up over the roof, allowing its riders an effortless exit.
Stepping out, Mercedes Huang smoothed her hair, “That was... interesting.”
Steele gave a nod to the driver as the door dropped, stepping up next to his partner in crime, “Yes. Yes, it was...”
“I'm not sure I understand how he knows when he's in his lane up there or not. Have you driven something like that?”
Jack shook his head, “No, in fact I was wondering the same thing. It feels a little unnatural in a car... Not like driving, not like flying...”
“Yeah,” she agreed, “just... weird.”
Steele pulled on the heavy wooden door for The Black Hole Bar & Grille, “I'm glad no one was following us - can you imagine what a chase would feel like?”
Mercedes shivered, “Frightening thought...”
Sandwiched between two much larger buildings, it felt like the Black Hole Bar & Grille was a historical survivor of some sort, from another era. It wasn't modern steel and glass, it was old school dark wood and roughhewn stone with a polished marble bar and dimly lit booths. Considerably more expansive inside than the outward appearance revealed, a three-man band played somewhere off in the darkness. The smells drifting through the restaurant only served to reawaken Steele's grumbling stomach. His artificial eye switched to night vision, revealing the extent of the crowded interior, groups of people congregated around the bar two and three deep, standing in between tables and booths.
“This is going to be a needle in a hay stack...” whispered Mercedes.
“Just drink, wander around and listen in. Shoot me something on MOBIUS if you hear anything interesting.”
“You going to order something to eat?”
Steele took a deep breath, “If it tastes half as good as it smells, yes. You?”
Mercedes smiled wryly looking over her shoulder and winked seductively, “Somebody will feed me...” She disappeared in the moving crowd headed for the bar.
Finding an available high top table, Steele took some time to eat while he watched the crowd, scrutinizing, carefully searching for anyone in uniform, listening to the conversations of the people around him and passers-by. Mercedes drifted past, drink in hand, plucking a morsel of food off his plate as she passed, “Uniforms on the other side of the bar...” She kept walking, melting back into the crowd.
Finishing off the food on his plate, he rose and casually headed around the bar in search of FreeRanger Navy uniforms.
■ ■ ■
Sitting with her back to the bar, an empty seat to each side of her, watching the people on the dance floor, Steele instantly took notice of the redhead in uniform. “Excuse me, I don't mean to bother you, but my knee is killing me,” he lied, “might I sit for a couple of minutes?” The Ensign looked up at him and silently nodded at the seat on her left while sipping her drink. Jack eased himself into the chair, playing the wounded soul, indicating the pips on her collar, “Ensign?”
She regarded him cautiously, “Yes.”
“Thank you for the seat, Ensign.” Steele held out his hand, “Jax Mercury...”
She shook his hand, wary of his politeness, “You're welcome. Grinleeah,” she offered. Steele was shocked by the intensity of her green eyes and he took a moment to consider where the reflections were coming from that created the glowing effect. “You're staring...”
Steele looked away reflexively, “Sorry, your eyes are so green...” He glanced back, “Probably sounds stupid but it almost looked like they were glowing - I was trying to figure out how...”
“I was flash-blinded as a child. My eyes are genetic implants from a large cat called a Corsicat.”
Steele raised one eyebrow in surprise, “I didn't know that was possible.”
The woman nodded. “They are lab grown nowadays, they make excellent replacements for a multitude of reasons. The most distinct advantage, of course, is I see very well in the dark...”
“Who sees what now?” asked a man in uniform appearing on her other side.
“We were discussing my eyes,” replied the woman. “I guess they're glowing in the lights from the dance floor.”
The man with the Commander pips on his collar smiled, “Mesmerizing, aren't they?”
“Hypnotic,” agreed Steele.
“Mr. Mercury,” motioned the Ensign, “my husband, T. B. Yafusco. Tibby, this is Jax Mercury.”
The two men shook hands, “I'm sorry Mr. Yafusco...”
“Tibby.”
“Tibby. I'm sorry for intruding, I was just needing a few minutes to rest my knee...” he began to rise from the seat.
Tibby dismissed the idea with a casual wave, “Sit, sit. Grinah and I don't mind.” He looked out toward the dance floor, “Besides, I think the Lieutenant will be out there for a while.” Following his gaze, Steele realized the FreeRanger Lieutenant out on the dance floor was being entertained by Mercedes Huang. Tibby motioned towards Steele's nearly empty snifter, “What are you drinking there?”
“Diterian brandy...”
“Ah, a lady’s drink.” He waved at the bartender for an additional glass. “Try something new,” He poured a clear liquid from a bottle on the bar into a small glass with two cubes of ice in it and handed it to Jack. “Sip, don't gulp.”
