The transition came quickly, and he opened his astral eyes to look at Mr. Enterich, who surprised Sam by still appearing as a man. When Sam turned to Karen, he saw the flurry being whom he had known as Jacqueline the Sasquatch. So his vision hadn’t failed, and he could still pierce illusions. As a precaution, he checked the Orks in the front seat. They were just Orks, though heavily implanted with cyberware. Abandoning his pose of making a call, he returned to the mundane. “All taken care of,” he said.
His host’s smile was warm. “Fine. Now, back to your concern about Lofwyr’s dealings with you?”
“You’ve already expressed some of it.”
It was Enterich’s turn to look puzzled. “Which is?”
“That Lofwyr knew Drake was Haesslich. You’ve said as much, and I never told you.”
“That was not intended as duplicity, Mr. Verner. Lofwyr did suggest that all was not as it seemed with Mr. Drake. Allowing you to discover that fact for yourself and to demonstrate continued determination to proceed assured the Dragon that your effort was worthy of his support.”
“Then what does he plan to do?”
“Lofwyr leaves the planning to you. His own involvement in this matter is not politic.”
“So he expects me to tackle Haesslich on my own?” Sam was incredulous. What did a Dragon think a Human could do if the Dragon himself was afraid to get involved?
“No need for distress, Mr. Verner. I can safely say that Lofwyr does not expect you to tackle Haesslich directly or without support. When you have made your plans, contact me. If your scheme shows a reasonable chance of success, we can arrange certain resources to aid in the effort. Discreetly, of course.”
“What kind of resources?”
“Supplies, equipment, and cash are the easiest to obtain, as long as your needs are within reasonable bounds. Additional, nonspecialist personnel might also be arranged. In the meantime, please accept the services of my aide Karen Montejac as a liaison and advisor.”
Sam looked at the woman he knew to be a Sasquatch and a magician. Did she know that he knew? “Mind if I call you Jaq?”
“I’d find it charming,” she said, smiling cheerfully.
48
“Jenny?”
“Right here, boss.” The decker’s response came from Hart’s terminal.
“Any word on Candy?”
“Nothing new. She’s still sedated and we haven’t yet matched anybody to the descriptions of her assailants. Good thing she’s got replacement coverage on her insurance policy.”
“I wouldn’t send any couriers to that thing without it after what it did to the first girl. Candy will be fine in a couple months.”
“Hey, boss, you think they hit her because she was courier?”
“That’s been worrying me. She’s the only one who’s been to the arcology twice.”
“She was a busy girl before you took her on,” Jenny said. “Maybe it was something personal”
“Let’s hope so. Keep looking.”
“Affirmative.”
Hart went back to studying the files Major Fuhito supplied on known runners. They offered slim hope, but she kept looking for any clue that would lead her to Verner through his associates. No one walked the shadows alone; but how could there be so little on the one name they had? This Dodger was almost like a shadow, but any decker as good as his file indicated would be elusive. She had just finished reading it for the tenth time when Jenny interrupted.
“Boss, I don’t think the attack on Candy was personal. Alfie’s got company downstairs.”
“What kind of company?”
“Woman calling herself Alice Crenshaw insists on seeing you.”
“Crenshaw? Renraku security?”
“How many can there be?”
“And she wants to see the owner, right?”
“Not like that, boss. She asked for you by name.”
That was trouble. For Renraku’s deputy security chief to drop in on the enemy for a chat was definitely not standard procedure.
“Jenny, can you still catch tonight’s courier?”
“Affirmative.”
“Have her tell the thing that tomorrow night’s joyride is going to be an end run. Things are getting too hot.”
Crenshaw followed her guide up the stairs. She was not unduly worried. Physical security on the building was not enough to keep her from getting out if Hart proved difficult or unstable. Not that she expected such a reaction. From what she had heard, this Hart was a total pro, mercenary to the core. Crenshaw was confident she’d be able to reason with the Elf.
The over-oiled hunk of Free California beefcake opened a last door and stepped inside.
“Thanks, Ralphie,” she said, brushing past him.
“It’s Alfie.”
She ignored him, intent on forming a first-hand impression of the internationally renowned Hart. Hart was seated, but it was obvious she was tall, like most of her kind. She also had the smooth Even skin, oval face, and delicate, foxy features that men, norm and Elf alike, fawned over. If Hart was a bit on the scrawny side, that was a popular preference, too. Crenshaw reminded herself that Hart had to have brains, too. She’d never have lasted this long in the trade.
Hart made no effort to stand or welcome her visitor. She just sat back in her chair with a look of calm expectancy. Her hands were out of sight behind the desk. Crenshaw pulled up a chrome and plastic chair in front of the desk, ignoring the stuffed armchair already there. Hart still said nothing.
Crenshaw chose her words carefully, “Before you do something we might both regret, let me say I’ve only come here to talk. I thought that we might be able to see eye-to-eye, one professional woman to another. I also feel obliged to tell you that my associates nearby would not take kindly to any show of violence.”
“Are they loaded for Dragon?” Hart asked softly.
“Excuse me?”
“I have a feathered friend nearby who would also, as you say, not take kindly to violence.”
“Ah, the serpent who helped you extract Samuel Verner from the arcology. Good. If we’ve got a matching of muscle, we can get down to business.” Hart inclined her head, which Crenshaw took as agreement. “How is Mr. Verner?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
An admirable poker face, Crenshaw thought. “Come now, Ms. Hart. I know that you and he are working together.”