| From: | neon@******.backbone.olemiss.edu (Mike Broadwater) |
|---|---|
| Subject: | The Hunted, pt. 3 |
| Date: | Tue, 8 Oct 1996 00:26:37 -0500 |
>>>>>[+++++Begin video recording
The picture shows the interior of a car. In front of it, you can see
headlights and the night sky over the desert. From the way the scenery and
asphalt is moving, the car must be going very fast. The dash board is lit
up with readouts, most of which seem to cover normal operating functions.
You catch a glimpse of the speedometer, which is holding steady at 350 kph.
>From the way the perspective shifts, and how things are situated, you think
that the video feed is coming from someone’s eye cam. The person turns
their head, and you barely make out the profile of Blade sitting in the
drivers seat.
"Couldn’t you have given me any more info than ‘it’s near
Vegas’?"
"Hey, that’s all I know. It’s all the information they were allowed to=
give
out. We can’t have our citizens knowing where our secret storage sites=
are,
could we?" Lynch’s voice. It must be his eye cam. "You haven’t=
exactly
been talking a lot either. For example, where are we going? I know this is
the general way to Las Vegas, but something tells me that’s not where=
we’re
headed."
"Correct. We are going to Vegas. Eventually. First, though, I want to
stop off and talk to a friend of mine. He’s an information broker. The
truck stop we’re headed to is a front of his. If she’s done anything
electronically in Vegas, he’ll be able to find out what it was."
"Well, well. You do think with more than your muscles. Quinn owes me 50
nuyen."
"I resent that."
"I’m sure you do. You might want to slow down, Blade. I don’t know how
well this highway is patrolled, but I don’t think I’ll be able to talk=
you
out of a ticket. And with the amount of illegal gear in here," and you can
see Lynch’s fingers tapping something low on the dash, "you probably don=
’t
want to get pulled over."
Blade chuckles. "It’s like I always told my ex-wife, Lynch. I never=
drive
faster than I can see. And besides that, it’s all in the reflexes."
With a hard yank, Blade spins the wheel and turns the car into the poorly
lit parking lot of a truck stop that they almost passed. The view leans far
left as Lynch is pushed over by the force of the turn. With the squeel of
tires, Blade applys the brakes and stops the car.
"You need some ‘Oh, Shit!’ handles, Blade."
"Probably."
Blade and Lynch start to get out of the car. Blade looks over at Lynch.
"You can leave your weapons here. You won’t need them, and they’re a=
little
paranoid anyway."
Lynch shrugs and you can hear the smack as a what sounds like a couple of
heavy pistols hit the upholstery.
"Oh, and no matter what happens in side, be cool."
As Lynch turns and begins to walk towards the entrance, you get a much
better spot of the restaurant. It looks awful. You think the name of the
place is "The Desert Twister", but the only letters lit up spell "he se t
Twi". There are several stations for gas pumps, but they look so old, you
doubt they’d have the right fuel for a modern car. There are a couple
transport vehicles parked, but other than that, the outside appears
deserted. Lights are on inside, and you can see Blade open the door and
enter as Lynch follows behind.
The inside doesn’t look much better. A couple large, bored looking orks=
sit
at a table, eating and talking too quietly to be heard. Behind the counter
is a old grimy looking grill with an equally pleasant cook. Sitting at a
booth alone is the woman who appears to be the lone waitress. The only
person who looks up as Lynch and Blade walk in is the cook.
Lynch just glances around, taking in the view, before whispering to Blade
"Booth or counter?"
Blade makes a motion towards the counter. "Counter." Walks over and sits
in one of the swivel stools. As Lynch takes a seat, you can see Blade grab
a menu. Lynch takes one as well. As he looks it over, you can see that
it’s usual greasy spoon food. Well, except that the menu appears to be
about as old as the place it’s in. One item refers to something called
"USDA Choice Beef."
The cook walks up "Waddaya want?"
Blade looks up to the cook and smiles "Two whole fried chickens. And a
chocolate milkshake."
"_Two_ _whole_ chickens? You sure about that? Cause I think we’re out."
Blade just keeps smiling. "That’s O.K. Hey, does Ricardo still work=
here?"
The cook leans forward slightly, his hands on the counter top. "Yeah,
chummer, he still works here." As he finishes, the windows all go pitch
black and Lynch’s ears pick up the sound of an action going back. His=
hand
reaches inside his jacket for the guns that aren’t there.
"Be cool Lynch. Just…be cool." Blade turns his attention back to the=
cook.
"Tell him Gillette is here to see him."
At that, the cook smiles, and you can see the reflections of the orks in the
back of the grill go back to their seats. The windows remain dark, however.
"Sorry about that Blade. But, well, you know how paranoid he can be."
"Not a problem Murray. Mind if we go downstairs?" Blade points towards
Lynch. "Don’t worry about him. He’s clean."
"Sure thing. You know the way."
Lynch and Blade stand up and head towards the back of the restaurant. In
the stockroom, out of Lynch’s view, Blade does something to one wall, and=
a
floor panel pops up revealing a set of stairways. Blade gestures for Lynch
to go first. The stairs don’t seem to be too long, but are dark. =
Reaching
the end, Blade brushes a hidden switch and the lights come up. With the
lights on, you can see a nice size chamber furnished like a small bunker.
It has one well equipped terminal and a couple of bunks. There is, however,
a nice kitchen. Blade walks over to the terminal, flips it out of low power
mode, and logs in.
"What is this place?" asks Lynch
"Like I said, it’s the front for an information broker friend of mine. He
goes by the name of ‘The Bard of Bermuda’ Easily the best decker I have
ever worked with or against. We used to be teammates, but he hated having
to put his physical body on the line for meets and certain runs, so now we
just work together when he can do the job remotely. When he decided he
didn’t want to meet with people, but still work, he had to set up secure
places for people to contact him. This is one of those places. The windows
are two way video screens, so that when they blacken on the inside, it plays
a smart recording of what was happening inside with some few modifications.
The building could take a hit from the main gun of a Stonewall tank, and
this bunker could withstand a nuke blast. All the people upstairs are hand
picked by me. So I designed these, and he feeds me information when I need=
it."
Just then, the telcom screen blinks on. "Evening Blade. What brings you
out of this part of the world?" The voice has a very cultured British
accent. When Lynch and Blade move in front of the screen, the camera shows
a well tanned, young looking blonde man in a suit. The image appears to be
live, but you can see nothing of his surroundings except a blank gray wall.
"Hoi Bob. I need you to do find a woman for me. Think you can do that?"
The man called Bob chuckles. "I don't know. You've been trying for 27
years and haven't found one yet. I don't know what you expect me to do.
Set you up with my sister?"
"Haha funny man. You know what I'm asking."
"Well, what do you have on her?"
"Let’s see." Blade pulls out a small data pad and hooks it’s fiber=
optic
cable to a port on the computer.
Bob whistles. "Moving into the 21 century I see. What made you decide to
finally use that?"
"I figured that if you were going to give it to me for Christmas, that I
should probably use it. At least in front of you. Anyway, here we go.
Name: Byrnes, Elizabeth Michelle. Byrnes is B-Y-R-N-E-S. Need me to spell
the rest?"
"No. Continue."
"Ok. SIN number <<encrypted>>. Date of Birth: 11 November, 31.
Downloading image now. Went to school at University of Mississippi,
graduated with a doctorate in Pharmacy in June of 53. A full bio is
included with the image. Need anything else?"
"Likely area to start searching?"
"Vegas. Work out from there."
"Alright. By the by, may I presume that your companion is the infamous Mr.
Jason Lynch? If so, tell him that while I do not mind if he records this
conversation and reports the location of this contact point, please make it
plain to him that I would become very upset if any of this information was
to get into the hands of the wrong people."
"Sure thing, Bob."
"Good. I’ll contact you in 8 hours."
The screen goes blank.
Lynch looks at Blade "Now what?"
Blade shrugs. "Now? Now we wait."
+++++end video
+++++begin video
The view returns, again from Lynch's eye cam. All you can see is brown
glass, but after a few seconds, it lowers and you can see Blade sitting
across a small table from him. The object blocking the screen was
apparently a bottle of beer.
"Your friend might be paranoid, but the people he hires sure know how to=
cook."
Blade chuckles "Murray sure does. In fact, it's why I picked him. I love
to eat, and he cooks like no I know. And it's all real food too, even the
meat."
"Bet that costs."
"Don't know." A beep can be heard in the background. "That's probably The
Bard."
Lynch follows Blade over to where he can see the screen. The same blonde,
tanned man as earlier is on the screen.
"Well, your bounty might be a good micro-biologists, but she's an awful
espionage artist. Potential, but not much skill."
"What've you got, Bard? I need the info, not a run down on where she should
best be used."
"Always in a hurry. But here you go, I'm sending the full report to the
console. You can download it from there. Until you have a chance to read
it, though, I'll give you the salient points."
"She checked into a Las Vegas hotel using her mother's maiden and her
sister's middle name. She made transactions around the town using this name
before switching to another. This one was a little tougher to piece
together. Apparently, it was her maternal grandmothers married name. Well,
using that and a fake SIN she picked up on the street, she's booked a flight
to Newark. Oh, the SIN is good enough for the flight, and to get into
Newark, but it won't allow her into New York. She won't have the right
passes for that."
"Any idea why she's heading for Jersey?"
"Well, my guess would be that that is where one of her contacts is. If not,
then a boyfriend."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, over the last year, a little before the time the Doom agent became
available on the black market, she started making phone calls to a telecom
number there. Really, the cold relay was fairly poor, not even a challenge
to follow. But, after leaving 'Desert Door', she made several calls to this
same number from her hotel room."
"Wait a second, what's 'Desert Door'?"
"That's the base. Or didn't they tell you? No matter, it's not important
in this instance. To continue, her flight leaves in aproximately 16 hours,
so you may want to hurry up and find her."
"Thanks BOB. You know how to get me if you need anything. Watch out for
reefs."
"Thank you, Blade. Try not to get dead."
The screen goes blank.
Blade looks at Jason "Lets go. I don't have much time."
"Sure thing. And don't worry, I won't be looking over your shoulder for
much longer. Lilith will take over as handler from a more remote position
shortly. We just wanted someone with you for the beginning to..."
"Make sure I could be trusted?" Blade smiles "No problem. You have to
watch security just like anyone else."
+++++End video recording]<<<<<
-- SIGANet DC <01:24:24/10-08-57>
