- Chapter 7

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# CHAPTER 7

Lathe had had everyone spend a couple of hours looking over the maps and other data Shaw had given them, and then had ordered them all to get some sleep.

It was late afternoon by the time Judas woke up. "Morning, Caine," Spadafora greeted him as he passed Judas's couch, a heavy-looking box in his hands. "Afternoon, rather. Better get dressed—Shaw's coming by in half an hour for a drive up into the Deerline Mountains."

Judas felt his stomach tighten. The real Caine was hidden away somewhere in those mountains. "What are we going there for?" he asked cautiously.

"He says there are some places where we can get a good look at the Khorstron center," Spadafora called over his shoulder as he disappeared into one of the house's bedrooms. "Move it or get left behind."

The safe house had come equipped with a fully stocked pantry. Judas fixed himself a quick breakfast and then hit the shower. By the time Shaw arrived, he was dressed and ready to go.

"Come on, come on—it's not getting any earlier out there," the tactor said briskly as he looked around. "Where's Spadafora?"

"He's not going," Lathe said, gesturing to Mordecai and Judas. "It'll just be the three of us."

Shaw made a face. "I wish you'd said something—I could have brought a car instead of a van," he growled. "Cheaper to run. Never mind; let's just do it."

The foothills of the Deerline Mountains ran right up to the southern edge of Inkosi City, with a couple of the pricier suburban areas scattered around its lower slopes. The Ryqril had refused to let Judas inside the tac center even after he'd been loyalty-conditioned, but Galway had brought him up into the mountains once during his training to give him a view of the place. As the rectangular city street grid gave way to winding mountain roads, he wondered if Shaw would end up taking the blackcollars to the same spot Galway had chosen.

Oddly enough, though their route was very different, they ended up not more than a hundred meters from the spot where Judas had been the last time. Perhaps Galway really did understand how these blackcollars thought.

"I really don't know what Lepkowski was thinking," Shaw said as they stood among the trees at the edge of the cliff. "If he thought your team was just going to walk in there, he was badly mistaken."

"I'm sure he wasn't expecting it to be that easy," Lathe said, peering through a set of binoculars at the squat, two-story octagon rising from the lightly forested plain east of the city.

"That's for sure," Judas murmured, shading his eyes against the glare of the sunlight as it sent evening shadows across the ground. The place had looked pretty impenetrable when Galway had showed it to him a few months ago, and at that time the Ryqril had still been working on it. Now, with everything up and running, it looked even worse.

The building had no windows and only four doors, one each facing east, west, north, and south. A pair of bunkers flanked each of the doors, with firing slits that would allow targeting in a nearly hundred-eighty-degree horizontal arc. The building's ventilation exhaust vents were on the roof, encased in armored boxes with heavy grates over the vents. There were no visible intake valves, and Judas had no idea where they actually were. Also atop the building, set back a few meters from each of the eight corners, were antiaircraft laser batteries, their muzzles pointed vigilantly skyward. The trees and shrubbery for fifty meters around the center had been cleared away, and a two-meter-tall mesh fence marked the outer perimeter. Like the building itself, the fence had just four entrances, each flanked by another pair of guard bunkers.

"It's going to be a challenge, all right," Lathe agreed. "But one of the truisms of war is that there's a way into anything."

"Good luck," Shaw muttered.

"For instance," Lathe continued, "that fence isn't nearly high enough to keep out determined trespassers."

"It doesn't have to be," Shaw said acidly. "Notice how thick the fence posts are? Not only are there a full range of sensors in there, but there's also a sonic net anchored above the fence. Even if you managed to sneak up to the fence without them spotting you, jumping or climbing over it would scramble your balance and dump you on your face."

"Allowing the Ryqril to stroll out of the bunkers and beat the sand out of you?" Judas suggested.

"They can't get out of the bunkers, at least not directly," Shaw said. "But then, they really wouldn't have to. The whole area inside the fence, for about three meters back, is booby-trapped with scud grenades and hedge mines." He lifted his eyebrows at Judas. "If you managed not to trigger one of them, and the Ryqril shooting at you from the building bunkers somehow kept missing, then they'd send the warriors outside to beat the sand out of you."

"Must do things in their proper order, Caine," Lathe agreed mildly. "However, I wasn't implying we'd actually be going in over the fence. My point was simply that the fence's height is an enticement, and the fact that the Ryqril seem interested in luring in sightseers implies a level of overconfidence that can be exploited."

"Of course that's what you meant," Shaw said, an edge of sarcasm in his tone. "Again, good luck."

"Oh, we'll get in," Lathe assured him. "Actually, we have no choice. Lepkowski's already gone off to rendezvous with the Chryselli to tell them what we're up to. Pride alone dictates that we succeed."

"Unless the whole thing is a trap," Mordecai spoke up.

"What do you mean?" Shaw asked, his tone suddenly ominous. "If you're even suggesting I'm cooperating with the Ryqril—"

"He's not," Lathe cut him off. But there was a sudden new edge to his voice. "Go on, Mordecai."

"I was just wondering if this whole thing could be a Ryqril plan to turn the tables on the Chryselli," the other blackcollar said. "If the tactical data is going to be of any use, the Chryselli have to be here to collect it pretty much as soon as we dig it out. The Ryqril could have leaked word of this place in hopes of luring them into an ambush."

The lump that had been forming in Judas's throat relaxed. Mordecai had come close to the truth, but not close enough. Galway's plan was still safe. "Sounds kind of iffy to me," he said. "The Chryselli wouldn't be foolish enough to send anything too valuable into a Ryqril-held system, would they?"

"Of course not," Shaw said scornfully. "Besides, in order to set up that kind of ambush, the Ryqril would have to pull some major ships of their own off the battlefront, which they can't afford to do."

"I suppose," Mordecai said. "I just thought that—"

"And we appreciate the effort," Shaw cut him off. "But next time do us all a favor and leave the tactical thinking to the experts, all right?" Deliberately, he turned his back on the other and looked at Lathe. "Is there anything else you wanted to see up here?"

"No, I think we've seen enough," Lathe said. If he was upset at the tactor's verbal abuse of one of his men, he wasn't showing it. "You said you had some schematics of the place?"

"We have some fairly good guesses, based on long-range photos we took while they were building it," Shaw said. "But they're hardly comprehensive."

"They'll do for starters," Lathe said, returning his binoculars to their pouch. "Let's get back to town and take a look."

The sun had disappeared completely below the horizon by the time they retraced their steps to the off-road clearing where they'd parked the van. With Shaw again at the wheel, they headed to the main road that would take them back down the mountain.

They were out of the foothills and once again into the more orderly city streets when Judas first realized they were being followed. "Lathe?" he spoke up hesitantly, tapping the blackcollar on the shoulder.

"Yes, I see them," Lathe said.

"We all see them," Shaw growled, his profile tight in the shifting streetlight. Taking his left hand off the wheel, he reached under his right sleeve, and Judas felt his wrist tingle with blackcollar code. All blackcollars in range respond for assist.

There was no answer. "Been on our tail for the past eight blocks," Shaw went on, tapping out the message again. "Prefect Haberdae is nothing if not unsubtle. Looks like we're on our own, too."

"What are we going to do?" Judas asked, an unpleasant sensation crawling up his back. This wasn't part of the plan, at least not any plan he'd been told about. Once he'd been swapped in for Caine, Security was supposed to back off and leave the blackcollars alone.

"Well, we're sure not going to lose them in this beast," Shaw commented. "We'll have to ditch it."

"Where?" Lathe asked.

"There's a viaduct eight blocks ahead to the left," Shaw said. "Where Oak passes under Eleventh."

"That the one with a shopping mall on one side of the overpass and a casino on the other?"

"Very good—you've been doing your homework," Shaw said, a hint of reluctant approval seeping into his voice. "Yes, that's the one. What the current maps don't show is that one of the entrances to the old subway system used to be at that intersection."

"Subways are always promising," Lathe said.

"Very," Shaw agreed. "Which is why the Ryqril went around plugging all the entrances when they took over. The maps also don't show that Inkosi City's less reputable citizenry have sunk a few new entrance shafts to the system, using them to move contraband and for private meetings. One of the rabbit holes just happens to be in the casino restaurant's back room."

"Handy place to disappear to," Mordecai murmured. He already had his flexarmor gloves on, Judas noted. Reaching beneath his coat, he got out his own gloves and started pulling them on.

"Provided we can get out once we're in," Lathe said. "How well do you know the system?"

"Well enough," Shaw said. "I can certainly get us in and back out again."

"And how well does Security know the system?" Mordecai asked.

"No idea," Shaw conceded. "I'm sure they've located at least some of the rabbit holes, but I doubt they've explored the whole thing. Security snogs who go down there don't always come out again."

"We'll just have to chance it," Lathe decided. "What's the shopping mall like?"

"All sorts of back entrances, hallways, nooks, and crannies," Shaw said, throwing him a frown. "But the subway shaft's from the casino, not the mall."

"I was thinking we might want to split up," Lathe told him. "Make them chase two targets instead of one."

"Bad idea," Shaw warned. "Especially since I'm the only one here who knows the tunnel system."

"Which just means the other pair stays above ground," Lathe countered. "Plenty of crowds and buildings out there to disappear into."

"Still not a good idea," Shaw said sourly. "But I take it your mind's already made up. Fine. I'll take Caine underground; you two can play dodgeball with Security. Get ready; we're coming up on our turn."

"Caine, stay with him and do exactly as he says," Lathe said, glancing over the seat at Judas. "What's our drop strategy?"

"There are stairs leading up both sides of the viaduct to the overpass above," Shaw said. "As soon as I reach them, I'll do a fishtail stop and try to block traffic in both directions. That ought to snarl the pursuit long enough for us to at least get up the stairs."

"All right," Lathe said. "Caine, keep your battle-hood ready, but don't put it on until Tactor Shaw tells you to. We'll try first to melt into the crowds."

"Got it," Judas said, trying to calm his racing heart. What the hell was Galway up to?

* * *

"They're moving into the left lane," the tech at the command van's status board announced, pressing his headset tightly to his ear. "Looks like they're planning to turn on Oak or Elsbeth."

"Stay with them," Haberdae ordered, a grim half smile on his face as he gazed at the board. "Guess they're not heading for the Queel District, after all."

Galway didn't reply, his eyes also on the board, a sense of imminent doom tugging at him. The spotters were in place over the city, the trackers were on Shaw's tail, and the intercept units were constantly updating their positions to be ready whenever Haberdae decided to make his move. The numbers were there; the ground and air support were there; and the landscape definitely favored the hunters. On paper, this should be a textbook-simple operation.

But no operation was ever textbook-simple. They were always riddled with variables and unknowns, uncertainties that blackcollars were experts at exploiting.

And even if it did work the way Haberdae expected—even if all the variables fell to the hunters—the evening might still end with the entire operation dead and buried in the dust.

Certainly, Shaw couldn't be permitted to snatch the Khorstron planning job away from Lathe. No one was arguing otherwise, least of all Galway. But Lathe himself hadn't even exhausted his options yet, let alone the various schemes Galway might be able to implement through Judas. And even if all other options were gone—even if Shaw was irrevocably hell-bent on running the show—trying to pull off this kind of surgical strike against the tactor while leaving Lathe and the others free and unscathed would take a finesse that Galway wasn't at all sure Haberdae and his men possessed.

But there was nothing he could do about it. He'd argued and warned and pleaded; but in the end Taakh had chosen to go with Haberdae's raid.

Perhaps that shouldn't have surprised him, Galway thought with a touch of bitterness. Khassq-class warriors were trained for direct action, not the kind of subtlety that was required here. Perhaps he, like Haberdae, was hungering for combat, even combat where all the Ryq and prefect themselves would do was watch.

"They've turned left on Oak," the tech reported.

"Means they're probably not heading for the Ring Village quarter, either," Haberdae muttered. "Too bad. I'd have liked a good excuse to go in and clear out that snake pit. All right, pull one of the units out of Ring Village area and shift it to—let's see—"

"Sir—accident in the Eleventh Street viaduct!" the tech said suddenly. "The van's gone into a fishtail."

"Were they hit?" Haberdae demanded, grabbing the headset he'd taken off earlier and jamming it back onto his head. "Tracker One, what the hell's happening?"

"Get one of the spotters down there right away," Galway ordered, his heart thudding suddenly in his chest as his eyes swept the board. If they got the nearest intercept teams moving immediately—

"Cancel that," Haberdae snapped, throwing a glare at Galway. "Someone's clipped them, that's all. The last thing we want to do is panic—what?" he interrupted himself, pressing hard on his earphone.

"What is it?" Galway demanded.

"They've left the van, all four of them," the tech said tightly. "They're on the stairs heading up to Eleventh."

"Scramble all units," Galway ordered. "Now. And get that spotter down."

"Do it," Haberdae confirmed. He glared at Galway again, but there was a sudden tightness now to his throat muscles. "How in hell's name did they spot the trackers?"

"They're blackcollars, that's how," Galway told him grimly. "Where are they going?"

"They've split up," Haberdae told him, pointing at the board. "Looks like Shaw and Judas are headed south toward the casino, with Lathe and Mordecai heading north toward the mall." He snorted gently. "Well, that's convenient. We can grab Shaw without having to worry about the wrong story getting back."

"Maybe too convenient," Galway cautioned. Sending a superior officer and the least capable fighter of their group to go running off on their own? That didn't sound like Lathe.

"I'll take what I can get at this point," Haberdae said. "Units Five through Eight: converge on the Spinning Wheel Casino—capture formation. Units One through Four: hold containment around Eleventh Street Mall. Stand ready to assist Spinning Wheel units."

"You should send at least a couple of units after Lathe and Mordecai," Galway said. "They're going to think it suspicious if we ignore them completely."

Haberdae made a face. "Fine. Unit One: move on the mall." He looked back at Galway. "They'd just better not actually interfere with them," he added ominously.

Galway looked back at the board. "Somehow, I don't think that's something you need to worry about."

* * *

Judas and Shaw were nearly to the casino's front entrance when Security cars suddenly appeared, screeching around various corners as they sped into the parking lot, their red and blue lights flashing. "Like I said, Haberdae's nothing if not unsubtle," Shaw said, picking up his pace and digging beneath his coat. "Button up."

"That'll make us awfully conspicuous," Judas objected, searching desperately for a good reason why they should leave their battle-hoods off. He had a fair guess now as to what was going on, and with Lathe and Mordecai out of sight a straightforward paral-dart attack would be the easiest way to get Shaw out of the picture.

Unfortunately, Shaw knew that, too. "You want a face full of paral-darts?" the tactor countered as he pulled on his battle-hood and snugged it down over his flexarmor turtleneck. "Get it on."

Grimacing, Judas pulled out his own hood. So that was that. With Security's best weaponry now useless, he would just have to look for an opening to take Shaw down himself.

He had the hood on and was adjusting the goggles over his eyes when a spray of paral-darts from the approaching cars washed over him, jabbing tiny needles into his outer clothing and ricocheting off his battle-hood. A pair of passersby, caught by the edge of the spread, collapsed silently onto the sidewalk. "Watch your mouth," Shaw warned, holding a gloved hand up to protect his own exposed skin as a second burst swept over them. Running past the casino's startled doorman, the tactor straight-armed one of the two side doors flanking the elaborate central revolving door and headed inside.

Judas was two steps behind him, slipping neatly through the opening as the door swung closed again. "Where to?" he asked, breathing hard.

"A moment," Shaw said. He spun around to face Judas—

And to his horror, Judas saw the other had a shuriken in his hand. He had barely enough time to flinch back before Shaw cocked his arm and let the star fly.

But it didn't slash through Judas's cheek and teeth, as in that frozen second he'd fully expected it to. Instead, the shuriken whistled harmlessly past his ear; and as he turned to follow its path he saw it bury itself in the edge of the door they'd just come through, cutting through the panel and into its frame, effectively jamming it shut. Two more stars followed the first, sealing the revolving door and the other side door as well.

"Can't make it too easy for them," Shaw said casually. "This way."

Pulling out another shuriken, he headed off in the direction of a gaudy restaurant sign set into the high ceiling to their right. Judas followed, a creepy numbness settling into his gut. Barely thirty seconds earlier, a distant part of his mind reminded him, he'd actually been considering trying to personally take this man down.

Like the doorman, the restaurant's hostess merely gaped in surprise as the two men charged past her. Some of the patrons did the same, while others simply ignored the sight, as if a pair of masked men in a hurry were nothing particularly out of the ordinary. No one tried to stop them as Shaw led the way across the main dining area and through a service doorway. "Hood off," he muttered to Judas, pulling off his own battle-hood and goggles as he led the way down a wide service corridor.

Frowning, wondering what the other was up to now, Judas complied. They reached a T-junction and Shaw turned into the cross corridor, and Judas saw an unmarked door five meters ahead.

A door flanked by two of the biggest and ugliest men he'd ever seen.

And with that, Shaw's plan became clear. Neither guard had a gun in his hand, but that would have quickly changed if they'd seen a pair of blackcollars in full battle gear charging down on them. Their weapons wouldn't have been much use against flexarmor, of course, but the sound of shots would have shown Security which way they'd gone.

But with their hoods off and the rest of their flexarmor concealed, he and Shaw were just a couple of guys who might have taken a wrong turn. The sort of intruders toward whom even professional bodyguards might be inclined to show a little initial restraint.

Sure enough, one of the guards took a step forward, holding up a hand palm outwards. "This here's a private party," he said as Shaw continued striding toward him. "The main room's back that—"

The last syllable came out in a grunt as Shaw leaped across the last two meters, pivoting on his left foot and snapping his right up in a side kick to the man's stomach.

The second guard threw himself back against the door, his hand diving beneath his jacket. Without bothering to put his right foot down, Shaw cocked it back and did a little chicken hop past the crumpled body of the first guard. As the second man's hand emerged gripping a flat handgun, Shaw kicked the weapon hard into the man's chest.

His breath went out in an explosive gasp, and Shaw again cocked his leg back and threw one final sweeping kick across the side of his head. Toppling to the floor beside his partner, he lay still.

"Whoa," Judas muttered as he stepped gingerly over the crumpled bodies. "I thought you tactors were just the planning end of the organization."

"We're also blackcollars," Shaw reminded him tartly. "Quickly, now."

To Judas's mild surprise, the back room itself was empty. But as Shaw headed toward a shallow coat closet he saw that the back of the closet was open a crack, with a wide circular stairway visible beyond it. With Shaw in the lead, they headed down.

The subways of central Europe had similarly been sealed down when the Ryqril had taken control of the TDE three decades earlier. But Judas had seen old photos of some of them, and Inkosi City's system seemed fairly typical. A wide, dome-topped tunnel stretched out, heading east and west, with a pair of monorail tracks set into straight-walled trenches in the center. From the size of the area, he guessed they'd come down in one of the original stations, with wide platforms and empty booths where venders would have sold food or reading material or trinkets. The ceramic wall and floor tiles were done up in flowing patterns of yellow and green and brown, though with the low-power overhead lighting creating only isolated pools of light the décor was difficult to properly appreciate. Rather to Judas's disappointment, there were no actual subway cars in sight.

What was there, centered in one of the light pools, was a circular graystone table that looked glaringly out of place. Seated around it were a half-dozen hard-faced men.

All of them looking up at the intruders.

The two men standing guard at the bottom of the stairway, unlike those Shaw had dealt with above, had their guns out and aimed by the time Shaw and Judas reached the bottom. "My apologies for the intrusion, gentlemen," the tactor said, coming to a halt a couple of meters from the gunmen and motioning Judas to do the same. "I'm afraid the rest of your meeting will have to be postponed. Security's on the hunt upstairs."

"Hunting you, I presume?" one of the men suggested.

"As it happens," Shaw said.

"Is there some reason we shouldn't just give you to them?" someone else put in sarcastically.

Shaw inclined his head slightly. "You could try."

There was a short silence. Judas found himself staring at the guns pointed at him, hoping fervently the guards wouldn't try anything rash. Not for his and Shaw's sake, but for theirs.

The first man stirred and got to his feet. "Don't think it's really worth it," he said calmly, gesturing to the others. "Besides, whoever they're after, they'd be happy enough to bag one of us. Anchor, Veeling—go secure the exit."

Silently, the two guards lowered their guns and brushed past Shaw and Judas to the staircase. "Good luck to you," the first man said, nodding to the blackcollars as he headed up, the others trailing behind him. "If they catch you, try not to mention us."

"No problem," Shaw promised.

A minute later, they were gone. "Come on," Shaw said, heading west down the tunnel at a quick jog. Fifty meters away, Judas saw, the station ended and the tunnel narrowed down into permanent darkness. "As quietly as possible."

Grimacing, Judas ran after him. So not only was Shaw a tactor with other blackcollars to call on, but he was also apparently on speaking terms with the city's criminal underground, with its potential for additional manpower. More than ever, it was becoming clear that Shaw needed to be taken out of the equation.

Judas only hoped Galway was up to the task.

* * *

Lathe and Mordecai had made it nearly to the mall's south entrance when a lone Security car appeared at the western end of the parking lot and headed their direction. "About time," Mordecai commented. "I was starting to think they'd forgotten about us."

"They do seem more interested in the others, don't they?" Lathe agreed, turning to look back at the casino parking lot. There were at least three Security cars already there, their flashing lights strobing eerily off the buildings and cars. At the casino's western end, a fourth car was heading in to join the party. "I suppose we should do something about that."

"We can't just let Security have them?"

Lathe smiled. "He does have a gift for rubbing people the wrong way, doesn't he? Still, it would be unprofessional to throw him to the wolves."

"I suppose," Mordecai conceded. "What's the plan?"

"Let's first see how much they really want us," Lathe said, eyeing the approaching Security car and picking up his pace. "We'll beat them to the mall, do a flip and drop, and see what happens. Ready ... go."

Abruptly, he and Mordecai abandoned their unconcerned walk and broke into a dead run toward the mall entrance. The Security car surged forward as the driver saw their quarry rabbiting, but he was too far back and the two blackcollars had too much of a lead. The car was still fifty meters away as Lathe shoved open one of the tall glass doors and slipped inside.

Beyond the outer doors was a wide vestibule with another line of glass doors four meters back. Slowing to a fast walk, he headed toward the inner doors, peeling off his flexarmor gloves as he did so and giving the area beyond the vestibule a quick scan. Off to the left was a small, open-air coffee-and-pastry shop with a dozen small tables scattered around at the edge of the main corridor. Stuffing his gloves into his coat pockets, he shifted direction to angle across the vestibule toward the shop. He reached the inner doors, pushing open the nearest with one hand as he unzipped his coat with the other, and stepped through into the warm air and soft background music of the mall. As he walked toward the coffee shop he pulled off his coat, grabbing the sleeves with his hands as he did so, and turned the garment inside out, replacing the plain navy blue he'd been wearing with a black-and-burgundy herringbone pattern. By the time he reached the first group of tables he had it back on and zipped up.

One of the tables had recently been vacated, the previous patrons' discarded cups, plates, and napkins still there. He sat down in one of the chairs facing the mall entrance as Mordecai, his own appearance also transformed, took the seat across from him.

They were barely settled when the vestibule doors burst open and four armed Security men charged in.

Lathe had already lowered his head, looking down at his chest as he daubed vigorously with a napkin at an imaginary coffee spill on his coat. Mordecai picked up one of the empty cups with one hand as he rested his chin in the other, his fingers partially covering the side of his face as he pretended to watch Lathe's cleanup operation. Out of the corner of his eye Lathe saw the Security men pause for a moment and look around, then continue down the hallway, spreading out into a loose sweeping formation as they searched for their quarry.

"Clear?" Mordecai murmured.

"Clear," Lathe confirmed, giving his coat one last swipe. The Security men were still moving down the hallway, peering into each shop door as they passed. "They'll give anyone a uniform these days."

"Or else they had orders to leave us alone."

"No, they didn't spot us at all," Lathe told him. "I'd have caught the body language if they had. As an overall command decision, though, I think you're probably right."

"So what's our next move?"

Lathe nodded his head toward the door. "Car's right out front. Let's go see if the others want a ride."

The Security car had been pulled quickly and rather sloppily to the curb, its engine off but its lights still flashing. The driver had remembered to take the key with him, but that was only a minor inconvenience. Thirty seconds later, Lathe pulled away from the curb, made a tight U-turn, and headed back westward across the parking lot.

"Any idea where they'll be coming out?" Mordecai asked as he shut off the flashing lights.

"There's another of these private subway entrances half a klick west of the casino," Lathe told him, pointing ahead. "I'm guessing that's where the rest of the Security force will be congregating, either to go in after them in a pincer or else just wait topside for them to pop out."

"A pincer would be risky," Mordecai pointed out. "Still, against an aging tactor and a nonblackcollar they might be stupid enough to try it." He slipped his fingers under his sleeve. "I wonder how well these things transmit underground."

On his own wrist, Lathe's tingler tapped out Mordecai's message: Shaw—Caine—respond.

There was no answer. "Not very well, I guess," Mordecai concluded. "Maybe when we're closer—"

"Unit One, report," a voice called suddenly from the car's radio. "You're out of position."

"At least they've got competent people in their spotters," Mordecai commented, rolling down his window and peering skyward. "That could be trouble."

"We'll just have to do something about it," Lathe agreed as he pulled the microphone from its clip and thumbed it on. "Unit One," he reported, dropping into the characteristic Security style of clipped speech. "Suspects inside mall, heading west. We've split forces and are attempting to cut off their escape."

"Cancel that," a different voice growled. An officer's voice, Lathe decided from the medium-high arrogance level in his tone. "We're concentrating on the others now. Pick up the rest of your team and proceed immediately to the casino."

"Yes, sir," Lathe said. "I'll park and wait for the others to catch up."

The radio clicked off, and Lathe shut off the mike and returned it to its clip. "You see him?" he asked.

"Yeah, he's right up there," Mordecai said, nodding upward. "Looks like he's directly over the other subway entrance you mentioned." He pulled his head inside again. "They aren't really going to send this unit over to the casino, are they?"

"I doubt it very much," Lathe assured him. "I'm pretty sure that was wholly for our benefit."

"That's what I thought," Mordecai agreed. "So you feel like an evening's stroll by the light of a spotter's searchlights?"

Lathe smiled tightly. "Don't worry," he said. "We'll figure something out."

* * *

Haberdae clicked off the comm and turned to face Galway. "Clever little things, aren't they?" he said sardonically as he draped his headset around his neck. "Obviously think we're as stupid as they are smart." He gestured to the tech at the board. "You still in contact with Unit One Leader?"

"Yes, sir," the other said. "He requests orders."

"Tell him they'll be leaving his car near the west mall entrance," Haberdae instructed. "He's to double-time it there, then get over to Intercept Two and join the net Units Two, Three, and Four have set up. Then tell Spotter Two to watch the area west of the Unit One car and make sure Lathe and Mordecai don't go that direction. I know he won't be able to keep track of them long with all the pedestrian traffic out there, but he's to make damn sure they don't head for Intercept Two."

"Yes, sir." The tech turned to his mike and began issuing the orders.

"This all assumes, of course, that Shaw and Judas will come up that particular stairway," Galway warned. "What if Shaw decides to keep going to the next exit instead?"

"He won't," Haberdae said. "Next exit's over two kilometers away, and it's one he should know we've already found. No, he's got to be figuring the Thirteenth Street slot is still secret. Besides, with two units on their way down behind him from the casino he can't afford to spend any more time down there than he has to."

"Sir, Spotter Two reports Unit One's car has parked near the west mall entrance," the tech announced. "Two men getting out—"

Distantly, through the headset around Haberdae's neck, Galway heard a yelp. "What is it?" he snapped.

"Nothing," the tech assured him as Haberdae hastily put his headphone back on. "They turned the car's searchlight on Spotter Two, that's all. Dazzled them for a moment until they could get out of the beam."

"So where are they now?" Haberdae demanded into his mike. He listened a moment, his lip twisting. "They were dazzled just long enough for Lathe and Mordecai to slip away," he said sourly, looking at Galway. "No idea which way they went."

Galway looked at the board, his stomach tightening. "They're heading west," he said.

"No." Haberdae was positive. "There's no one heading west. Both spotters agree on that."

"Then they're going the long way around," Galway insisted. "Or maybe they're going to grab one of the civilian cars in the lot and drive there."

"Galway, will you calm down?" Haberdae said in a tone of strained patience. "We have spotters in the air, we have men and cars on the ground, and every one of them knows Lathe and Mordecai by sight. They're not going to get within a hundred meters."

"A hundred meters might be close enough."

"Fine—they won't get within two hundred meters," Haberdae growled. "You want me to make it three hundred?"

"Prefect, Lathe isn't going to abandon the others," Galway said, forcing his voice to remain calm and reasonable. "That's not the way he does things. Unless you get to them first, he is going to rescue them."

"And what exactly do you suggest?"

Galway looked up at the board. "Send your men down the Thirteenth Street entrance now," he said. "Catch Shaw between them and the casino units and make the capture underground where Lathe can't interfere. Once you've got him, flip a coin as to which exit you use to bring him out. Even Lathe can't be two places at once."

"You want me to send my men down a dark subway tunnel where the quarry has all the advantages?" Haberdae countered. "Don't be ridiculous."

"You'll have them in a pincer—"

"I'll have my men in a crossfire situation, that's what I'll have," Haberdae cut him off. "Look, Galway, Lathe is a blackcollar, not a magician. He can't fly, he can't dematerialize, he can't cloud men's minds. And flexarmor or not, he can't just charge through a line of men armed with lasers. Not without getting himself killed."

"Prefect—"

"We're going to do this according to plan," Haberdae cut him off. "We're going to push Shaw to the rat hole and nail him as he comes out. If you're that worried about Lathe, I'll call a car and you can go over there and help watch for him."

"You know I can't do that," Galway bit out. "If he finds out I'm on Khala, it could wreck the whole operation."

"Exactly," Haberdae said with satisfaction. "And if you're not really here, you can't tell me how to do my job, can you?"

Galway sighed silently to himself. Haberdae simply refused to understand. "Fine," he murmured. "It's your show."

"Damn right it is." Haberdae turned back to the board. "What's happening with Unit One?"

"They've reclaimed their car and are heading over to Intercept Two," the tech reported.

"Good." Haberdae looked back over at Galway. "Tell them to keep an eye out for Lathe and Mordecai along the way," he added, almost reluctantly.

"They're already doing that, sir," the tech said. "So far, no sign of them."

"Fine," Haberdae said. "Alert all units to stand ready. Let's get this done."

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Framed