"Back to station, Willie," Hart ordered. "They're leaving in small groups and we don't want to miss any. If the pattern holds, my guess is that all but one were present tonight."
"Roger."
The drone flitted back. It swooped four more times to record the passage of furtive groups leaving the scene. When the last group had left, the policemen began to move in. Taking a risk that the badges would spot the drone, Willie sent it in ahead of them for a fast pass to confirm the contents of the building. Deep in its heart lay six skeletons, already being attacked by scavengers.
"Do we tell Estios?" Willie asked.
"Not just yet. Let's run down the images first,"
Hart suggested.
"It's your call, Twist," Willie said.
Sam sighed. "We'd better identify them first."
"Roger," Willie responded. She dumped the recordings to the cyberdeck and began the process of image enhancement and correlation.
Sam hoped it wouldn't take long. If the pattern held, and he had no reason to believe it wouldn't, seven more innocents would die in less than forty-eight hours.
"Your report was most enlightening, Katherine." Bambatu smiled, his teeth a dazzling white against the darkness of his skin. "But I fear that you must change your plans. The Lady has considered the information and is determined on a new course of action. The foolish druids of the Hidden Circle have embarked on a course that the Lady believes will be their downfall and that of the Lord Protector. She is convinced of it. In fact, she is sure that they will collapse in such a decisive and spectacular manner that they shall need no help from us. Such self-destruction suits the Lady's plans better than the original plan to disrupt them from outside. Therefore, she wishes that you no longer par — _
172 Robert N. Charrette ticipate in any operations that will curtail the Circle's activities."
"What about Verner and the Estios's crew?" "They must not be allowed to disturb the Circle, either.''
That was a troublesome order. Sam was not going to be easy to dissuade. She had encountered his dogged persistence during the doppelganger affair. And since they had become lovers, she had learned how deeply his passion for justice ran. He would not give up on this chase until it was concluded. He would be impossible to live with if she forced him away from his quest to make the Circle pay for their evil. To her surprise, she found herself worried about that possibility. Why? He was just another bedmate. Wasn't he? She hadn't even begun to consider the implications of her concern when Bombatu resumed speaking.
"The Lady has decided that eliminating Verner from the situation would disrupt the runner operations most effectively with the least repercussions. She expects you to handle the details with your usual efficiency. "I'll get him out of the country immediately." "Oh no, Katherine. That will not do. He must be killed."
"West on Romford Road."
The audio signal was a surprise. Willie didn't often speak while rigging. She claimed that it disturbed her rapport with the machine.
She was trailing one of the newly identified druids,
Thomas Alfred Carstairs, Lord Mayor of the industrial Birmingham District of the London Sprawl. The Lord Mayor was accompanied by a pair of toughs who registered as enhanced on Willie's scanners. All three were carrying weapons. Beyond his bodyguardservants, the Lord Mayor had dispensed with the usual entourage. He had business tonight; private business.
The pattern of killings predicted that tonight would see another kill of seven, one for each druid. The runners knew now that the Hidden Circle had not replaced the members lost on the Solstice. They had not recruited replacements to restore their number before engaging in further ritual activities. Did they feel the press of time? Were they facing some deadline? The runners were still in the dark as to the reason for the Circle's nefarious activities.
Sam hoped that Carstairs was going to be easier to trail than Glover had been when they had first discovered the connection between the Bone Boy killings and the Hidden Circle. The runners could not afford the time to search house-to-house if he lost them as he neared his proposed murder site. Sam didn't want to see anyone else die to serve the Circle's ends.
Following Inspector Burnside was also no longer an option. That course had gotten expensive when he had spotted one of Willie's spy drones and had it skragged by a stiage from the precinct anti-surveillance squad. The dwarf rigger had flatly refused to send any more with him.
With the night of sacrifice upon them, they had just finished identifying the Circle's members by name, and there had only been enough time to locate one of them, the Honorable Mister Carstairs. Like all of the druids, the Lord Mayor was a magician, and that made it risky to follow him astrally. The ground team worked a mundane trail, supplemented by Willie's drone.
The group of hunters managed to move through the crowds and cold winter fog without incident. Willie signaled that Carstairs had reached a destination, and the runners regrouped. Carstairs had entered an old warehouse, its name and trade long obliterated by time and the corrosive action of the London atmosphere. The broken pavement of the street sloped and Sam knew they were somewhere near the river; the fog was always thicker there.
"Recon, Willie," Sam ordered. "Find out where they've set up and signal when they begin the ritual. We'll want to catch them then. That'll be as low as their guard will get before they start killing people."
One beep signaled Willie's affirmative.
They waited.
Estios and his team checked their guns, returning them to concealment under their long coats whenever a passerby wandered close. Hart fingered one of the decorations on her belt. They were deadly throwing weapons but looked like mere decorative flash. Fidgeting wasn't like her. She had seemed distracted for the past two days, but she had shut down his every attempt to talk with a shake of her head and a sad smile. Her attitude only increased his own nervousness. He jumped when Willie sent twin beeps to the receiver in his ear.
That wasn't the pre-arranged signal. Sam's mouth went dry.
"Willie?" he asked tentaively.
"What's going on?" she replied. "Where are you guys? It's been twenty minutes."
"We're holding for your signal. You didn't signal."
There was a pause. "Couldn't you hear the screams?"
"Drek!" No sound had reached the watchers.
Sam leaped up, drawing his Narcoject Lethe as he did. The tranquilizer gun felt light and insubstantial. People were being tortured to death and all he had was a toy gun. Was that justice?
Estios was already halfway across the street by the time Sam left the sidewalk. Chatterjee and O'Connor were only a couple of meters behind their leader. As usual, the tall elf was going to be the first one in. Hart hung back, pacing Sam. He knew she could move faster than that. Didn't she feel the same urgency as the rest of them? They were only five people and a drone against the seven druids and an unknown number of flunkies. Sam wished Dodger and his Sandier were along, but the elf was still haunting the Matrix.
Estios barreled through the doorway, only to be flung immediately back. Sam skidded to a halt and shifted to his astral senses. A glow lit the doorway, a magical barrier. Estios picked himself up, his own aura flaring as he did. Sam watched the color shift toward the hue of the barrier as Estios attuned himself to its psychic frequency. The tall elf leaned grimly on the luminescent wall until the tones matched and he passed through.
Chatterjee grabbed O'Connor, enveloping her with his own power and dragging her through. Sam shifted back to normal perception and followed. Maybe it was a good thing that Dodger wasn't there; Sam didn't know Chatterjee's trick and Dodger would have been unable to pass the barrier.