“Thanks again. Gwen.” He said, a little awkwardly.
“No problem, Anselm.” She replied as she keyed a command that brought the door of the car down, then the police Eliica pulled away, leaving Anselm Gunnar looking at his home for the next few days at least.
Checking in went smoothly, mostly an automated process that involved dealing with only one actual person who noted his room and gestured to an elevator without looking up.
“You’re on Sub Level three, room S3-22.” The man said, filling out a form before flipping the electronic pad over, “Sign here, Mr. Gunnar.”
Anselm signed, then shouldered his bag and headed toward the elevator.
He had to check in with the agent who was on her honeymoon before he could do too much else, and see if she’d chanced another glance of Amir, but he didn’t expect much of that. Other than that, it was going to be hard going to close this case.
Abdallah had extensive practice in hiding from authorities’ intent on his capture, and the multinational culture around the Tower Project, just from what Gunnar had seen so far personally, would make it an effective place to hide for the terrorist. In fact, if he was actually lying low, there was little chance that Gunnar would locate him.
It was just too big a haystack, and too easy to miss a needle.
If the needle was poking into places it shouldn’t, however, Gunnar might just have a shot.
The elevator dinged and opened as he approached, so Gunnar walked right in and waited for the door to close. When it had he didn’t press the SL-3 button, but instead punched in the button for the fourth floor and settled in as the machine accelerated upward.
“Agent Gunnar”
Anselm nodded as he recognized the slim blond who opened the door, “Adrienne Somer, the Home Office sent me to investigate your sighting.”
“So it was confirmed” She asked, stepping aside to let him in.
Anselm nodded as he stepped inside, “Facial topography gives it ninety-seven percent chance of being Amir.” Anselm confirmed, “You weren’t informed”
She shook her head, “no.”
“Bureaucrats.” Anselm sighed, deciding to lay it out. “I’ve been sent to scout the project out, try to locate him and see what he’s here for. So I’ll be poking around in a few places I probably shouldn’t, if they make me they might do a computer search to see what other Interpol people are in town.”
The implications were left unsaid as he let himself trail off, but Somer understood.
The Interpol inspector nodded with a wry smile, “I had expected something of the like. My husband and I will be gone tomorrow morning.”
“Good.” Anselm told her, “As I said, I don’t expect any serious trouble, the odds are that he’s laying low here.”
“He’s not.” Adrienne Somer told him, “I read his file the night I sent that email. Amir isn’t the kind.”
Anselm nodded, the young inspector raising a notch in his esteem. “I know. Now, have you had any other contact”
“No.” She shook her head, “I’ve gone back to the fountain every couple days, but haven’t seen him again.”
“Was this the Pleasant Chimes Fountain”
She nodded, looking surprised. “How on Earth could you know that”
“Local contact.” He told her, “Alright. I think that we’re done here. I’m sorry that your honeymoon is being disrupted, Inspector.”
She smiled wanly, “My husband is less than enthused about cutting our time short, he wanted to try some of the thermal gliding they do in the area.”
Anselm grimaced wryly, shaking his head. “My condolences on marrying a lunatic.”
She laughed lightly, shaking her head. “He’s not that bad.But you have to admit that the opportunity to catch a thermal and climb four or five miles straight up isn’t something that comes around just anywhere.”
“I suppose not, but I’ll keep my feet on the ground just the same.” Anselm told her, and then glanced around, “Where is your husband”
“At the airstrip,” She shrugged, “Trying to hitch a ride to the top of the tower.”
Anselm rolled his eyes, “Good luck with him, it sounds like you’ll need it. Do you have anything to add to the report”
“No, I sent everything when I mailed the pictures.” She said, “I wish I could help.”
“Don’t.” He told her, straightening up. “This is a scout job, not delivering a warrant or making a bust. Too many witches spoil the brew and all that.”
She laughed, again lightly, and then showed Anselm to the door.
He bid her goodbye as they shook hands, and headed back to the elevator.
This time he hit the button for SL-8.
Inspector Gwendolyn Dougal left the Eliica in its charging nook and walked away from it without worrying about theft. The vehicle would only run for a member of the Shanty Town PD thanks to the radio identity transmitter incorporated into each of their badges. It made things easier on them in some ways, though losing a badge was even worse than it had been in the past.
She was walking into her office when a noise to her right startled the police inspector, and she jerked around.
“Sorry!” The man there held up his hands, smiling. “Didn’t mean to give you a start, Gwenny.”
Gwen caught her breath, shooting a glare at the man, but didn’t say anything for a moment.
Finally she shook her head, “You shouldn’t sneak up on someone who’s armed, Ryan.”
Police Chief Ryan Emmerson smiled in response, “You wouldn’t shoot me, Gwen. If you did, you’d get stuck with my job.”
Gwen shuddered. God forbid.
Ryan spent the majority of his time liaising with the Tower Project people, basically keeping the lines of communication open and generally spending all of his time under the huge facility, in the tunnel complex where they kept their offices. Gwen liked being out in the light, and even getting to drive once in a while.
“Did that Interpol guy come through today” Ryan asked as Gwen tossed her coat on a rack and settled in at her desk.
“Yeah,” She nodded, “He thinks they have a lead on a terrorist they’ve been looking for.”
“Here” Ryan chuckled, “What’s he doing Wait, don’t tell me.He’s one of the Eco Terrorists that we hear so much about in the movies.”
Gwen had to chuckle at that, while the occasional ecologist went over the line in their methods the myth of eco-terrorism was an all too frequent plotline in the mainstream entertainment that seemed to pervade all walks of life. Working around the Tower had taught everyone in the area that the average ecologist was about as dangerous as a stiff breeze, and usually not as interesting.
“Fraid not,” She said after a moment though, becoming serious. “This is the real deal. One of the fundamentalist movement, big time bomber.”
Ryan grimaced, “You’re joking”
She shook her head.
“Why would he be here The Tower has nothing to do with any of their beefs.”
“I know that, and you know that,” Gwen shrugged, “But whether he knows that is something else. All we can do is give Agent Gunnar a hand if he asks, and maybe keep an eye out ourselves.”
“We have a photo”
Gwen punched up a command on her computer, accessing the Interpol most wanted lists. Sure enough Abdallah Amir was on the list so she sent his sheet to the printer.
Ryan picked it out of the high speed printer almost before it was done and flipped it around to look at. “Hmm.Doesn’t look like an Arab.”
“Don’t know for sure if he is.” She told him, “He’s one of those types that change their name.as if God cares what name they were born with.”