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“Same source?”

Leif nodded. “Oh, yeah. Ever heard of D’Arnot Industries?”

“D’Arnot Industries,” Captain Winters said, “is a France-based corporation heavily invested in the production of munitions.” His holo stood in the center of the hotel conference room. A Net Force team had secured the premises, encrypting telecommunications that passed between all interested parties. The captain’s image blurred and his words sounded hollow occasionally because those telecommunications were being cached and sent as bursts, making them even harder to access over the Net.

Maj listened intently. During the hour it had taken Winters to arrange the meeting place, she’d done some research on D’Arnot Industries herself. The other Explorers and Roarke occupied chairs around the room.

“The corporation got its start back during the Cold War in the 1960s,” Winters went on. Slides and vid projected in the air as he spoke. “They produced small arms through most of the 1970s and 1980s. By the 1990s, when all the unrest started in the Russian satellite countries, they started producing tanks and attack helicopters as well.”

“It was a major corporation after 2002,” Leif said. “They made a bigger profit every year after that. They also invested heavily in software development.”

Winters nodded. “War makes for good business. It always has. However, D’Arnot traded freely with whomever they wanted, using shell companies to sell some of the goods they produced. There were times during the crises then that D’Arnot or their affiliates supplied both sides of a conflict.”

“You said they’re based in France,” Matt said. “That’s where Oscar said Peter Griffen stayed while he built his game.”

“After D’Arnot arranged the financial deal with Eisenhower,” Leif said. “We took a peek at Griffen’s passport. The dates all match up.”

“Then why aren’t we busting D’Arnot?” Andy asked.

“Because it’s not a crime to invest in another corporation,” Leif answered.

“They hid the money,” Andy protested.

“That’s suspect,” Winters replied, “but not criminal. So far, we’ve yet to uncover any malfeasance on D’Arnot Industries’ part.”

“What about Heavener?” Maj asked.

“We can’t prove that she works for D’Arnot.”

“What about her passport?” Catie asked. “Has she been in France lately?”

“It depends,” Winters said, “on which passport you’re looking at, under which name, or which intelligence report on her movements you want to believe. The woman is a ghost.”

“Even if we had anything against her, kid,” Roarke said, “we’d have to find her. I’ve got a feeling that’s not going to be easy.”

“As many people as she’s had on the scene here,” Winters said, “she’s got a local base of operations. I’ve got security teams going through records on this area and the surrounding counties. If they can be found that way, we’ll have them.”

“What about a Net Force team?” Roarke asked.

“I’ve got one in-bound,” Winters said.

“There are local guys,” Roarke pointed out.

“And they’re all tied up, Agent Roarke,” Winters said with the steel in his voice that Maj had seldom heard before. “I need a team here who has worked together before, not one cobbled together on a moment’s notice.”

“I’m just saying maybe we should get these kids out of the way.”

“I don’t think these young women and men are in any danger here, and to enforce that belief I want you to stay with them.”

Maj could tell by the look on the agent’s face that the assignment didn’t sit well.

“They also serve who baby-sit,” Roarke grumped.

“Agent Roarke,” Winters said, “at another time, you and I will discuss that point of view regarding my people. At length.”

“Yes, sir.”

Winters turned his gaze back to the Explorers. “Pulling you people out of the convention after Heavener knows who you are might be safe, but it could also tip our hand. It would be better if they thought this meeting was over the ongoing investigation regarding Peter Griffen’s disappearance. If you vanish, they’re not going to believe that.”

All the Explorers agreed.

“However, if any of you want to leave, you’re free to do so.”

No one took Winters up on the offer.

“I think we’re safe here, sir,” Maj said. “Besides, you may have a Net Force team on-site, but they can’t move until you prove a crime has been committed by D’Arnot Industries.”

“Heavener has a record under two other aliases,” Roarke said. “D’Arnot must not have known that.”

“Or they chose to ignore it,” Winters agreed. “A female agent is overlooked a lot in this field.” The captain paused for a moment. “She is their weak link. We’ve got six hours and thirty-seven minutes till Eisenhower Productions goes online with Realm of the Bright Waters.”

“If we find Heavener before that time,” Roarke said, “we can bring her in, sweat her, and see if she’ll give anything up to make a deal. No one’s going to look after her interests, and she knows it.”

Maj looked at the neutral expression on Roarke’s face and knew the man was talking from personal experience.

“Agreed,” Winters replied. “Net Force Explorers, make the most of these remaining hours. Keep your eyes and ears open, and stay in contact with each other. If the slightest thing feels off, get out and call me at once.”

Gaspar Latke sat in his veeyar workspace, for the first time in his life feeling crowded in by everything around him. He watched the monitors.

The central monitor showed the hallway outside Maj Green’s hotel room. The image was broadcast by a buttoncam worn by one of the three men Heavener had with her.

“Shut down the alarms,” Heavener ordered over the comm-line.

Gaspar’s breath was tight in his chest, and the back of his throat felt raw. He knew those were physical sensations seeping over from the flesh-and-blood world. He drew a circle in the air with his forefinger, and a blue knob appeared, linking him with the virus he had in place to circumvent the hotel’s security system. He pressed it, sending it on its way. For the next twenty-two minutes and nineteen seconds, the hotel wouldn’t know the room existed.

“Done,” he hissed, feeling like a traitor. Forgive me. I thought maybe we could help each other. Only he’d put her in danger by meeting with her.

One of Heavener’s people moved forward and took a short crowbar from his jacket sleeve. They all wore street clothes and wouldn’t draw a second glance from the gamers still wandering the halls. The man fit the crowbar into place and popped the lock, shouldering the door open.

Heavener and the next man stepped through the doorway. Gaspar’s main monitor view was now through Heavener’s sights. Ruby laser beams tracked through the darkness filling the room.

For a moment Gaspar thought Maj was in bed. But as Heavener got closer, he saw that it was only the twisted bedclothes.

“She’s not here,” Heavener said irritably. “Find her. Find her now!” She waved the men from the room and closed the door behind her.

Gaspar’s relief drained from him as he started to scan the hotel vidcams he’d hacked into. “Searching.”

“In twenty minutes and thirty-four seconds,” Heavener said, “that little mojo you’ve used on this room is going to elapse and the alarm will sound. If we haven’t found that girl by then, she’s going to run, and Net Force may take a big interest too soon.”

“Give me a minute.” Gaspar searched through the hallways and banquet areas, using a computer search engine working with Maj’s image as well. The convention center was open, and he thought she might be there.