And half the pleasure of this was going to be seeing the look on Galway's face when they brought him in to see the prisoners.
Tactical command answered, and Quinn began issuing orders.
Chapter 17
It was nearly three in the afternoon, and Lathe was idly searching his maps for a secondary escape route from the Shandygaff, when Jensen arrived with the news.
"Where?" he asked the other as Skyler and Mordecai joined them from other parts of the safe house.
"Over on Rialto Avenue, Reger said—sixteen hundred block," Jensen told them. "Looks abandoned, but I doubt Caine's dumped it this soon."
"No, he'd hold on to it as long as possible," Lathe agreed, stroking his dragonhead ring gently.
"Having lost his original car, the only way to get a replacement would be to steal one, and Security would be bound to notice something that obvious."
"So what now?" Skyler asked. "We go pick him up, dust him off, and set him back on his feet?"
"I'd like to avoid that," Lathe said. "Besides the question of putting Caine's nose out of joint, there're certain advantages of running two independent groups. But we sure as hell are going to get our eyetracks back on him. Jensen, are you mobile, or did someone drop you off?"
"I've got one of Reger's vans—I was coming into the city to pick up some new equipment anyway when the word came through from his people."
"All right. I'd like you to come in convoy with us, if you can spare the time. We may need the van for surveillance purposes, depending on what cover's available in that neighborhood." Lathe glanced at Skyler and Mordecai, wondering whether he really needed to drag both of them out there for what was likely to be a simple reconnaissance probe. But this was enemy territory, and he'd hate to run into trouble with his backups unavailable. "You two can come along—the fresh air will do you good," he told them. "Jensen, you lead the way."
Lathe had long since resigned himself to the fact that he would never really become comfortable with Denver's horrendous traffic level, but as Skyler guided the car through the mess he found it was becoming possible for him to ignore the whizzing vehicles and concentrate on the buildings and pedestrians beyond them. Denver was easily the most prosperous city he'd seen since the war, and it was with a mixture of envy and determination that he gazed around them. Someday Plinry will be like this, too, he promised himself silently. Without the Ryqril, if at all possible.
"Makes you wonder what kind of deal the city's leaders struck with the Ryqril after the war, doesn't it?" Skyler commented, waving a hand toward the unscarred landscape. "They sure as hell didn't go down fighting."
Lathe shrugged. "Maybe they decided it was futile to do so. Plinry would've given in a lot faster if we hadn't been all hell-bent ourselves on keeping a guerrilla war going. Anyway, look on the bright side—if they'd made the Ryqril scorch the city there wouldn't have been nearly as large a populace here for us to blend into."
"There's that, of course," Skyler admitted. "Though I don't suppose—"
He broke off as their tinglers came on; Lathe: Note quiet Security position at right curb.
Frowning, Lathe took a careful look as they passed. It was a surveillance team, all right: a parked car with four men sitting in it trying to look inconspicuous. "Maybe it's a stakeout by one of the raft of criminal organizations in town," Skyler suggested.
"They're Security." Mordecai was quietly positive. "Backup position off on the left now—there.
Standard unimaginative Security placement."
"It's standard because it makes sense," Lathe pointed out. But a small knot was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. "Skyler, turn left up here," he directed, fingers finding his tingler. Jensen: Continue straight; rendezvous in three blocks. Watch for stakeout positions; estimate enemy strength.
Acknowledged. Battle conditions?
Lathe hesitated. Prebattle. Soft probe only.
"Damn them to hell," Skyler muttered. "I hope we're not too late."
"Me too." Lathe leaned against the edge of his window, trying to get a view of the sky above them.
"Mordecai, check out your side. Any suspicious aircraft up there?"
There was a short pause. "I see something that might be a spotter lazing around—it's too high to tell for sure."
Lathe pursed his lips and returned his attention to the street. If the spotters were still hanging that far back, chances were Security wasn't ready to make its move quite yet. "I'd say we still have some time," he told the others. "Let's get a fast strength estimate and rejoin Jensen. And try to figure out how the hell we're going to pull Caine out of here."
"Once we actually find them," Skyler murmured.
"There's that, of course."
Ten minutes later they had their estimate: something close to a hundred Security men and perhaps fifteen or twenty vehicles. Not counting whatever backup troops might be riding in the three aircraft they'd spotted circling the area.
"On the more hopeful side," Lathe said as they squatted in the back of Jensen's parked van, "Security seems to have a better pinpoint on Caine's location, probably from checking city records on abandoned houses in the area. If we can key out the net's structure, we may be able to get that information ourselves." He shrugged. "Then comes the fun part. Any suggestions on where and how we cut our way out of this one?"
"We find the sleepiest-looking carload and punch through there," Skyler offered. "Fast and clean, and not until we've got Caine's team in motion."
"The problem being that with this much invested in the primary net, they'll certainly have some insurance backup primed and ready to move," Lathe pointed out. "Ideally, what we'd like is to get a look at Security's operational map."
"Well, why not?" Jensen said, an odd edge to his voice. "The spotters up there have to have copies—let's get one down and look at it."
Lathe regarded him thoughtfully. "Interesting idea. Tell me, you think you'd be able to fly one of those things?"
"Sure. An airlift makes the most sense, anyway. I was wondering when you'd get around to it."
"Yeah. Well..." Lathe thought for a moment. "All right, let's try it. First step is to find the spotters'
ground-support vehicle—they're bound to have something like that around for tight communications.
Mordecai, you come in the van with me; you two follow in the car."
They found the unmarked van four blocks away, sitting at the far end of an office building's parking lot. A flying ambulance sat resting on its landing skids a few meters away; between and around the two vehicles were nine plain-dressed but obvious Security men.
"Signal Skyler and Jensen for slingshot backcover," Lathe told Mordecai as he pulled their van into the lot and drove toward the Security force. "You and I will handle primary assault if and when needed; we'll try the soft approach first."
"Got it." Mordecai busied himself with his tingler.
Two of the Security men, paral-dart pistols at the ready, stepped over to them as Lathe brought the van to a stop near the group. One opened his mouth to speak; Lathe beat him to the punch. "Where's your officer?" the comsquare snapped, striding between the pair of them toward the van. "Who's in charge of this unit?" he called in a louder voice as the two would-be challengers scrambled to catch up with him.
"I'm Major Garret," a middle-aged man said, stepping down from the open van door and taking a step forward. "Who are you and what do you want?"
Lathe pulled a card from his pocket and handed it over. "Captain Hari—Special Services," he identified himself. "We've got some unexpected trouble back there. This guy Caine's apparently gotten a lock on our command and tactical frequencies—"