“We’ve found no indication that he left with anything other than himself and his lady friend. Nothing reported missing from any of the labs and no Matrix security breaches. With his limited access, the likelihood that he carried off any significant data is extremely low.”
“Maybe his benefactors thought his connection with Aneki would be worth something.” She brayed a laugh. “They’ll be disappointed.”
“Yes, well, it won’t be the first time someone lost an investment in a speculation.”
True enough, she thought. But she was still convinced that Verner was involved in something more than a simple escape. He had shown himself too stupidly loyal to Renraku, too obsessed with his goblinized sister. Getting Sato to tell Verner that he could write letters to her should have kept him in the arcology. The wimp wouldn’t have run out. There was another angle to this operation, and she was going to find it.
“What about the guy on the gurney?” she asked.
“What about him? No other personnel are reported missing, so he’s not one of ours. We have several reports of some Rumplestiltskin’s customer getting sick just before the DocWagon aerial ambulance got there. That guy vanished only a few minutes before the runners came through with their gurney.”
“So you think he was the patient?”
“Our rooftop cameras recorded the extraction, and the sick man matches the physical description of the body on the gurney. Seventy percent certainty.”
“But not one hundred.”
“One cannot expect much better from only verbal descriptions and trideo surveillance of a masked and shrouded person.”
“That’s true.” So Verner wasn’t selling someone else out. Still, there had to be more. “Pity about the Ork dying. She might have told us something.”
Marushige gave a predatory smile.
“Oh, but she did,” he said, waving the report he had been trying to read.
“This identifies her as Greta Wilmark a freelance runner. Her regular associates include Harry Sloan, Black Dog Sullivan, Kurt Leighton, and another Ork, Chin Lee. Sloan and Sullivan make an eighty percent match with the two paramedics on the landing pad, and analysis of the ambulance’s flight pattern suggests strongly that Leighton was the rigger in the pilot’s seat.
“That accounts for all of Wilmark’s regular team except for Lee, but runner teams are notoriously mutable. The female “doctor” was probably a substitute for Lee. All in all, it looks like a small-time operation.”
“Except for the Dragon,” Crenshaw insisted.
“That may have been an unrelated occurrence,” Marushige said with a shrug. “Our pilot did not stay around long enough to establish a link between the runners’ escape and the dracoform’s presence. It seems unlikely that such small-potatoes runners could have arranged such backup. As soon as the report is prepared, we’ll close out the case.”
Crenshaw frowned. Marushige might be satisfied that he had all the answers he needed, but she was not. Even if everything was as simple as Marushige thought, she wanted Verner to be caught and punished.
“What are you planning to do about Verner?”
“Unless something new turns up, nothing. The costs of hunting down such petty fugitives are high. Past experience indicates that such an investment isn’t worth the yield.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Sato won’t like you doing nothing.”
“You mean you don’t like it.” He recovered his composure as she lost her own. “Sato is a businessman. When he sees the reports and the cost estimates for any retaliatory operations, he will agree with me.”
Crenshaw’s day had gone sour. This should have been the opportunity to take down Verner for good, and legally, at that. Instead, it had twisted around. Marushige was going to let him get away.
Well, there had to be something she could do about it, and she would find it.
16
“She’s stopping,” Kurt announced.
“About time,” griped Sloan.
“Whuzamatter? Your bottom sore from the ride?” Black Dog asked.
“At least I got something down there to be inconvenienced.”
“You’re looking for trouble, Sloan.”
“You wanna give it to me?”
“Dump it, you guys,” Kurt ordered, without bothering to look at them.
Sloan and Black Dog had been sniping at one another ever since they’d left the hideout, stopping only long enough to get through the border check station. Sam was relieved when they did, sure that their bickering would draw unwanted attention from the guards. Roe had assured him their travel passes through the Salish-Shidhe Council lands would pass inspection, but Sam was nervous the whole time the tribal representative examined them. The SSC cop apparently thought the group looked harmless enough because he didn’t give any of them a second look.
Before they left the metroplex, the runners had traded their panel van for two Chrysler-Nissan Caravaners. They ushered Sam and Hanae into one, while Roe and Chin Lee loaded their guest into the other. Once past the checkpoint the two vehicles drove south separately, meeting occasionally at rendezvous points along what used to be Interstate 5. Only half an hour ago, they had linked up in the middle of nowhere and struck out cross-country. The vehicles were traveling without lights. Roe, being an Elf, could see quite well by moonlight. Kurt, the rigger, had to rely on the vehicle’s sensors feeding information to him through his link with the Caravaner. The ride was bumpy, but not as bad as Sam expected. Caravaners were built for this sort of thing. When Kurt stopped their vehicle and popped the door, the fugitive moonlight revealed Roe standing beside her Caravaner. Its drab green paint and simulated wood paneling blended well with the surrounding trees and bushes.
“Something wrong?” Kurt asked as Roe approached. She shook her head. “Tessien is supposed to meet us here. Let’s break for a while and rest. This cross-country driving is tough.”
“Get a rig,” Kurt suggested, tapping his datajack.
“Sure will. As soon as a car is the only thing I want to talk to.” Roe laughed lightly. “All right, chummers. Bail out and stretch your legs. Soon as he changes bottles on our guest, Chin Lee will be setting up the stove. We’ll grab some food before we move on.”
The runners responded quickly. Kurt enlisted Sloan to help him pull a pair of lanterns out of the back, and Black Dog trotted off to the bushes to take care of some personal business. Sam and Hanae were left standing with Roe.
“Katherine.”
“Yes, Hanae.”
“Where are we?”
“Near the Tir Tairngire border.”