Part 15 (1/2)
In the dark of the bedroom, Rico capped off a bottle of Nutrimax tonic water and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. With his Jikku eyes, he watched Piper grope around at the side of the bed, then slip carefully under the covers. Her face was a grayish mask. She turned her back to lie on her side.
Rico reached out to smooth a hand over her hair.
”You're still angry with me,” she said softly.
”Maybe,” Rico admitted. ”But tomorrow we might be dead meat,”
”Yes ... you're right. Please excuse me.”
A moment pa.s.sed, then she turned toward him and snuggled in against his side, laying her head on his chest. Rico ran his hand over her hair some more. It was smooth and soft like silk. ”I don't wanna lose you,”
he said. ”That's why I got so burned.”
”You were right,” Piper whispered. ”I was wrong. I'm so ashamed.”
”It couldn't be helped.”
”Jefe, I don't know ...”
It wasn't worth worrying about, not now. ”L Kahn ain't gonna be too happy when we give him the news.”
”That is true.”
”I don't know about this one, chica. I didn't like it from the start. Maybe it's like you said. We're just doing what somebody wants.”
”We can think about that tomorrow.”
”Sure. Tomorrow.”
The van rushed down the transitway, s.h.i.+fting lanes, veering from side to side, bypa.s.sing other traffic.
Rico glanced to his rear for about the fourth or fifth time, finding it hard to keep his mind where it oughta be.
Piper shared the rear bench with Shank, but she didn't seem any more aware of him than anyone or anything else. She had her axe in her lap, her head down-turned. Her long, curling black hair had slid in front of her shoulders, obscuring her face. She was past yesterday's trouble, the embarra.s.sment he'd caused. Probably, she was praying. Talking to the kami again. Rico wished that didn't make him so uneasy.
There had been a time, before he met Piper, when no one he knew paid any heed to G.o.ds till death was right around the corner, staring them in the face.
He'd known Piper for almost five years now and he still wasn't used to her praying.
Getting old. Obsolete? Maybe he'd been born that way. A couple of centuries too late. Into a world where honor meant nothing and a man's pride could be measured by the caliber of his gun. He figured he had some life left in him, regardless. Never mind what that slitch Ravage said.
”This gonna be a charity job, bossman?” Shank said gruffly. ”Or we gonna get paid?”
”We'll get paid,” Rico replied, lowly.
Shank and the team would get all they were due, and not just their share of the up-front money, even ifRico had to reach into his own pockets. Right now, the money was the least of his concerns.
Staying alive, at least a step ahead of the opposition, was the number one priority. After that came money. Somewhere in between staying alive and getting paid came his personal resolve to do what had to be done, find Surikov a new home, get the slag's wife busted out so that neither of them would be trapped in the ferrocrete fist of their corporate overlords. Rico just thanked his luck that he had a team he could rely on. Otherwise, everything went to scag, right out the window.
The transitway surfaced into Sector 10.
Time to get serious.
20.
The slag in the elaborate red uniform frowned in puzzlement as Filly and Rico got out of the big blue and white sedan and moved across the sidewalk toward him. Filly didn't know his name, but she sized him up at a glance. Doorman. Very decorative but probably not a threat to anybody. Maybe a little basic training in security procedures, such as how to call for help when something bad came down.
Filly motioned at him with her chin. ”Security super.”
”Right inside,” the doorman replied, waving a thumb at the transparex-fronted lobby of Forty East Seventy-third. ”What's the name?”
”Rasheen. Mo.”
”Thanks.”
The doorman smiled and nodded and put his key to the lock that set the double transparex doors to the lobby sliding open. Filly stepped on inside, Rico at her right. She took the lead because she knew the drill.
She'd spent nine years on patrol with Winter Systems in the Bronx. She knew the procs, the lingua, and most importantly the att.i.tude-casual, matter-of-fact, like she had every right to do whatever the h.e.l.l she was doing and there was no fragging question about it.
The lobby was big and open, a dunkfield worth of carpeting, small gardens in the corners. A broad, semicircular counter sat at the rear of the s.p.a.ce. The slag seated behind it wore the dark gray uniform of Fargo Security. He smiled and stood up as Filly and Rico approached. From his position at the security desk, the guard could have no trouble seeing the sedan at curbside, marked for the NYPD, Inc., or the matching uniforms worn by Rico and Filly.
”Hoi, chummers,” the guard said, still smiling.
”You Rasheen?” Filly inquired.
”Yes, that is right. I am called Mo. Is there something for which I can help you officers?”
”Got a little problem,” Rico said, as Filly walked around to the rear of the security counter.
”I am very sorry to be hearing that,” Rasheen said, glancing back and forth. ”How can I be helping you, please?”
The rear of the security counter was one big console equipped with monitor screens, two keyboards, and a suite of other controls. Those controls had complete override authority for the street doors to the lobby and the lobby doors to the elevators. No one got through the lobby unless the guard here tapped the appropriate key. Piper could commandeer the console from the matrix, but that wouldn't stop Rasheen here from calling a security alert.
Every guard on site carried a radio. Rasheen had a portable right on his console. Also, Fuchi internal security had a.s.signed a special detail to watch over Surikov's wife up on the thirty-fifth floor. That detail would go on full alert if they caught even a whisper of strange things happening. One radio call about a malfunctioning security console would do it.
Filly stepped up beside Rasheen, and ”said, ”Turn and face the wall.”
”We got a warrant,” Rico said.
Rasheen went wide-eyed. ”I am begging your pardon-”
”Do it NOW Filly ordered.
”Please explaining to me-!”
Filly grabbed Rasheen's arm and twisted it. That made him turn to face the wall or lose the arm.