Page 69 of Warrior's Captive
Tai’ri made eye contact with Ebwenna and Dayan and jerked his head. The next phase of the hunt would yield prey.
* * *
Slum wasn’t quite an accurate description of Sector 7; more like a ghost town. Evvek was right. Ignoring this sector had been a mistake, even though the reasons for doing so were sound. The traffickers’ playbook for years had been to bury their pods near transportation hubs close to medical facilities, the datasphere and physical traffic disguising their movements. Tai’ri had explored Sector 7 years ago and after the third fruitless search, decided to monitor but otherwise turn Ibukay’s strapped resources elsewhere.
That was on Tai’ri. Should have kept a better eye on it; intelligence gathering was his job. Vykhan was their heavy artillery and their strategist, but infiltration and data were on Tai’ri. He’d have to do better.
“Diabolical,” Evvek muttered, after reporting that his people found the hardwires and tapped in manually, rigging a signal. “They’re using short ranged frequencies older than my great-grandmother. They’ll have security, sir, but the perimeter will be limited.”
“Sentries.”
“As usual, look up. And listen for unusual birdsong.”
“Funny.”
Tai’ri, Ebwenna, and Dayan blended into the foot traffic, scarce as it was. People lived here, those who rejected the various programs set up to assist struggling persons with employment. Many who no longer qualified for any program or chose to support themselves outside the accepted social norms.
Petty criminals, addicts, unregistered aliens. The occasional hard eyed youngling—though they tended to stay away when Tai’ri and his team came through. Despite his chameleon like abilities, the children quite often saw through whatever disguise he wore to the government official beneath. Their mothers fled to these black holes in the city in order to keep their children when otherwise agencies would have taken over.
Evvek murmured directions in their earpieces. They wore loose, dark, utilitarian clothing and light jackets with hoods to shadow their faces. The hoods were lined with tech to disrupt remote audio/visual surveillance so neither their images or conversation could be recorded. When they closed in on their quarry, they’d activate cloaks to make them ‘invisible.’ Eb and Day had their nano suits on under their clothing, but Tai’ri’s was still regenerating from the last use. He’d been requisitioning a backup for years, but the budget didn’t stretch and he was good enough at his job that Accounting justified the denials by saying a backup had never been needed. One of these days Ibukay wouldn’t have to run her teams on a pauper’s budget.
“Alright, you’re nearing the hot spot,” Evvek said finally. “Zoning maps of this block are twenty years old. Don’t expect anything to be up to date. We haven’t even had an aerial scan in thirty years.”
“Who appointed the city chancellor?” Ebwenna muttered. “She has one purpose. I hate when bureaucrats don’t do their damn jobs.”
Yeah, he’d be having words with the Chancellor, but his own chagrin prevented him from replying. He’d made a classic mistake, allowing the enemy to lull him with their apparent pedantic routines. How many of the pens they’d raided over the years had been feints?
Damnit.
They slipped into an alley a block from a two story walk up, a residential building made of actual gray bricks, a flight of wooden stairs leading up to a manual double door.
Ebwenna stared. “Haeemah’s Mercy. Are those things even functional?”
“You can go first,” Dayan said with a grin. “I’ll carry you to a medcenter if it collapses under you.”
“This building is ancient. Weren’t all the graystones supposed to have been torn down a hundred years ago?”
“Get this,” Evvek said. “This whole sector was originally earmarked by the city historical society. They wanted it preserved for posterity. But then shit happened.”
“Not much posterity,” Dayan said, looking around with a doubtful expression.
“Entrances?” Tai’ri asked.
“Front and back, fire escapes on both floors. Metal ladders if they haven’t rusted off. I’ve got these vintage photographs, nothing—”
“Up to date. Right,” Tai’ri said. “Activate cloaking. We’ll go around back. This is a scouting mission only. Do not engage.”
Their camouflage snapped into place. They’d appear to be nothing more than another bit of old building, crumbling concrete sidewalk or whatever piece of the landscape the tech latched onto.
They walked briskly toward the building, skirting the front. The space between the graystones was narrow, and they entered a small courtyard with a decoratively dilapidated fence.
Tai’ri kept his eyes peeled because of that fence; attacks always came from above. And despite the apparent wear, the beams stood straight, the wood solid with no gaps between slats. On either side the neighboring graystones sat dark, windows busted out. Perfect for a sniper.
“You’re almost within range,” Evvek said. “Body count coming up in three, two . . .” He counted down then went silent as the trio entered the perimeter of the rigged security field. “I’ve got a satellite in place. Scanning the building now.”
They moved toward the back entrance. An old-fashioned padlock guarded a rusted latch. “Oh, nice,” Ebwenna whispered. “I can practice my lockpicking.”
“You took Medieval Covert Ops too, huh?” Dayan said.
