“Ah,” Anselm nodded. “Well anyway, they were admiring the photos later and damned if she didn’t recognize a face in the background. One email later and we have a computer run a facial topography scan, it came back ninety-seven percent match to our man, Amir.”
Gwen shook her head as the car roared toward a group of buildings that were approaching very rapidly, chuckling lightly. “Well wouldn’t that just suck You’re hiding out, lying low, and get spotted on someone’s vacation photos.”
“I’ve seen weirder ways to catch a perp.” Anselm said, but then admitted, “Not many though. But I’m not sure that he’s laying low.”
“What else would he be doing here”
“I don’t know,” Anselm admitted again, taking a breath. “But laying low isn’t this guy’s MO.”
“If that was true, then what do you suppose he’s been doing for the past five years”
“That’s sort of what’s worrying me, Inspector.” The blonde man said grimly.
“You can put your stuff on that desk for now,” Gwen told him as Anselm followed her into the small office space that had been appropriated by the Project Police Force.
He nodded and dropped his bag onto the empty desk and looked around.
The Police Headquarters were clean, neat, and very quiet. As far as he could tell they were the only people present at the moment, and there hadn’t been any sign of other cars or officers on the way in.
“We’ve only got about twenty full time officers here,” Gwen spoke up, divining his thoughts.
“For a city of eighty thousand” Anselm asked, surprised, it didn’t sound like much.
“Most of the security is still handled by the Project staff, and we mostly just investigate domestic calls around here and serve the occasional warrant.” She explained, “There’s no traffic crime to speak of, only a few hundred cars in the entire city, and most of the people who live here genuinely want to be here. It makes a difference.”
Anselm nodded, pulling the seal of his bag open. “Makes sense.”
“Yeah,” She nodded, “Look, I have to ask.Are you carrying”
“Service issued FiveseveN Magnum.” Anselm confirmed.
“Alright, hand it over to me so I can register it for you.” She told him, “We’ve got a local convention against guns, but I’ll fit you in under the law enforcement exception.”
“Thanks.” He said, pulling his clip-on holster from his belt behind his back and handing it over. “Here.”
She accepted it, pulling the Fabrique Nationale five point seven millimeter pistol from its custom formed holster and carefully transcribed the serial number into her computer terminal. The FiveseveN Magnum, or Fifty-Seventy as it had become known, was an improvement on the older FiveseveN pistols FN Herstal had designed for police and counter terrorist agencies as a companion piece to their famed P90. Its cartridges were a few millimeters longer than the standard five point seven round, and ran a lot hotter in order to perforate modern composite body armors.
“Nice piece,” She said as she handed it back, “Did you bring your ballistics information”
Anselm nodded and handed over a flash chip he always kept in a belt pouch. The postage sized piece of smoke colored transparent aluminum contained several gigabytes of information about Anselm, his medical records, Service files, current assignment and, of course, a complete ballistics work up on his service weapon.
“Backup”
Anselm smiled, propping his foot up on the desk and pulling the M-45 Firestar from the ankle holster. Gwen returned the smile with an arched eyebrow, but accepted the compact weapon without comment.
The Firestar was Anselm’s personal gun, a compact forty five caliber pistol with six rounds in the box and one in the pipe that had served him well for over a decade. It wasn’t new, and it wasn’t flashy, but the Firestar had always done the job in a pinch. Gwen simply ran the number from it in a few seconds, then inserted the flash chip into her computer and let it load up the ballistics info automatically.
“Alright,” She said, closing the file. “You’re registered. I’ll get you a supplemental permit that you can keep with your Interpol ID.”
“Thanks.” Anselm said, replacing his weapons and straightening his clothing to cover them more effectively.
“Let’s get you checked in to a hotel, I think you’ve got a reservation”
Anselm nodded, drawing his portable from its belt pouch and flicking the fan shaped screen open with a snap of his wrist. “Yeah.at the Tower Arms.”
Gwen nodded, “nice place. I’ll give you a lift over, and show you how to ride the rails around these parts. You can probably rent a car if you want, there’s usually a couple available, but the fastest way to get anywhere is the rails.”
Anselm nodded, “Alright. Lead the way.”
“This way,” She nodded her head, “We’ve got to pick up your carry permit first.”
“The shanties grew up in a ring around The Project,” Gwen was telling him as she guided the Eliica patrol car around the gently curving road that circled the huge greenhouse that they could occasionally see glinting through the tangle of buildings. “No more than a half kilometer thick at its widest, and about the same in distance from the perimeter of The Project greenhouse.”
Anselm nodded, noting the curve that the streets all had, all of them following the same invisible line that would eventually bring them back around onto themselves.
“You want to get across town, you have two choices,” Gwen went on, idly dodging a car on the road at just over three hundred kilometers an hour. “You can drive, like us, which takes a while.even in one of these babies.”
Anselm held on to the seat, feeling the Gee force push him back into the seat as she accelerated again. The Eliica accelerated with almost a full gravity, making him feel like the car was standing on end as the Inspector casually negotiated the wide streets.
“But if you’re in a hurry,” she went on, oblivious to his discomfort, “you ride the rail. It cuts right through The Project and take you out the other side. Be there in a few minutes, tops.”
“So why are we driving” Anselm asked idly, watching the road intently.
Gwendolyn laughed, “Because I LIKE to drive.”
Figures, Anselm thought without speaking aloud.
“Besides,” She went on, gesturing just up ahead. “Your stop is right here. Tower Arms, not our finest establishment, but it’s got nice rooms, good service, and they keep the place clean.”
The patrol car slid to a near silent stop beside the Tower Arms hotel, and Anselm climbed out. He looked up over the building, and was surprised that it appeared to only be a few stories tall.
“I figured a hotel would be bigger.” He said aloud, ducking his head to retrieve his bag.
Gwen just laughed, “It’s pretty big, but most is underground. We don’t cotton to no shadows on the greenhouse around here, Agent Gunnar.”
Anselm nodded, understanding.
“Strict building codes keep the buildings limited to specific heights depending on how far they are from the greenhouse.” She paused, and then shrugged, “And what side they’re on too, of course. On the south side you can build pretty much any height you want. Most stay about the same anyway though, city planners seem to think it looks good. Besides, its energy efficient to build underground, and this is Tower City, Agent Gunnar.we’re all about being efficient.”
Anselm nodded and smiled, shouldering his bag. “Thanks for your help, Inspector.”
“No trouble. Here,” she leaned over, extending a card to him.
He took it, recognizing it as a standard swipe card.
“That’s my swipe card,” she told him unnecessarily, “Just pass it through any phone and it’ll figure out where I am and ring me.”