Longevity (16 page)

Chp. 13 Strategy (Friday evening)

Timing was crucial. Before walking into The Vat on the trail of Michael Agnew, Livvy forced herself to wait a half hour. She figured that should have allowed him enough time to settle in, start on his anesthetic of choice, and meet with whomever he might have planned to meet, if anyone. He'd gone in alone. The Vat wasn't known as an Enforcement bar and wasn't in the vicinity of City Central, and sitting in her car, observing the foot traffic, Livvy recognized no one among those who followed Agnew in, but all that meant nothing. They might have arrived first.

Since her experience had always been that she was unlikely to pass unnoticed walking into a bar alone unless she was wearing a burka, and probably not then either, she didn't try.

The Vat was dark and a little dingy, with the run-down ambience that seemed to suit serious drinkers and the overweight men in leather vests playing pool in the cubbies along one side. When she walked in she heard a couple of comments she'd rather have missed and everyone looked her over thoroughly. Except Agnew, who didn't even look up.

Looking miserable, Agnew was sitting alone, in a corner booth, and paying no attention to anyone around him. Livvy's research had shown that he still lived at home, with his parents. He apparently hadn't wanted to go home.

"Agnew. Mind if I join you?" Livvy asked while sliding into the booth.

Agnew glanced up at her and reddened, then went back to staring at his drink.

"Do you have any Irish whiskey?" Livvy asked when the waitress appeared.

"I can check," she said.

"No, never mind," Livvy said. "Whatever beer you have on tap, some pretzels, and a refill for my friend."

From the glasses on the table, that meant three for Agnew. She took it slow, finishing one beer and ordering another for them both before even trying to initiate a conversation. It wasn't hard to let her mind wander back to when she had been so young that disillusionment this serious could feel like the end of everything that mattered. She was dealing with a very bright young man, and part of her goal was to remind him that he still had a future and work that made a difference.

"Your first assignment, right?"

Agnew glanced up at her again.

"Why LLE? No, never mind, you don't have to tell me. If it's a good reason it never sounds right when you say it out loud," she said companionably.

She took a sip and examined the beer in her glass. There was nothing floating in it at least. After two nights ago and considering what she expected she might have to do later tonight, she really didn't want to drink any more of it. Agnew kept his head down except when he was taking another swallow.

"My training officer, when I was in Tactical in San Francisco, could talk your ear off about the philosophy of this and the purpose of that," Livvy said untruthfully. "Does Williams lay it on thick?"

"Not really," Agnew said. He had started looking out over the crowded bar, perhaps with a faint hope of rescue, and he flicked an oblique look her way.

"Personally, I doubt that it's ever all that complicated. You can over-think these things. If it feels right, it usually is. To serve and protect, right?"

Another sip.

"Where it does get complicated, though, is when you have people of your own. Trying to take care of everyone else's family and take care of a family of your own. I suppose it can get to be a bit of a paradox at times, to do both unstintingly. But it's the job, and there's a long tradition of people that have been able to handle both."

She took another sip, then realized that had to be it. She'd had some extra time, but the warmth was spreading, and it was getting late, and she had a long night ahead of her. She wanted it to be his decision to talk to her, but if he didn't open up in another 5 minutes, then she had to lay it out for him, and ask him some direct questions.

"I don't
know
anything," Agnew said. "How do you handle that?"

"You tell me anything that might be at all useful, and let me decide. If it's innocent, nothing comes of it. If it isn't, then McGregor and I will deal with it, if I can find him."

After a moment, he lifted his head and started talking. "He's taken a few calls outside the car, as though he doesn't want me to hear.

"Last week one day we drove to this huge, gated mansion in Potomac Falls and he went in alone. When he came back out, he was raving about this guy that lived there. How rich he was. How paranoid. How he had this fully stocked bunker under the house, waiting for the end of the world.

"Williams has been... in some kind of fission mode. Yesterday, he took personal time for the whole afternoon."

"Yesterday afternoon... all right," Livvy said. "Did you get the address on the mansion?"

"Yeah," Agnew said. "How dumb does he think I am? Does he just not care?"

Livvy thought for a few moments. "Maybe, just maybe... Look, I know this is hard to understand. It's possible that he doesn't care, that he may want to get challenged, to get caught. He's no fool, either, and he may have intended to slip you useful information.

"Sometimes out of anger or desperation or just plain dissatisfaction people get wrapped up in things they regret. They lose their way, and don't know how to get back. A mid-life crisis, it used to be called. Now we have all kinds of additional issues and labels for them, but I suspect they're still the same sort of thing."

She pulled herself out of the booth and stood there, looking down at him.

"Personally, no matter what a person does or doesn't do, I believe in redemption. I doubt that it's ever too late to change things and be again that person you want to see in the mirror in the morning."

"592 McCarthy Court. I never heard a name," Agnew said.

"If it makes you feel any better, I knew it, I just needed confirmation," Livvy said. "You saved me from a lot of worry about a costly mistake. Thanks."

She started to take a step towards the door, and Agnew touched her wrist. "It's a fortress," he said.

Livvy smiled at him, and gave him another reassuring half-truth, "Young man, I've dealt with fortresses before."

• • •

After Bedford left, Chris got up and moved slowly around the room, checking for anything that might prove useful. As long as he stood up straight, he found moving tolerable, but it still took him over two hours to find and destroy eight tiny acueyes. He could only hope they were the only visuals that covered the room.

The door and the lock were, as far as he could tell, impregnable, and the walls were solid concrete and probably very thick. He thought that, knowing Bedford, there might be a hidden back exit somewhere, with a tunnel to some other safe room, but he couldn't find it. He did find some knives in the kitchen. He also found some ready-to-eat meals in a pantry, and helped himself to some delicious seafood pasta and two glasses of excellent Chablis.

Livvy sent her sixth request for a response to his ear comu. Since he had no access to a transmitter, all he could do was appreciate the subtle message it sent: she had nothing new to worry about other than the fact that he was not responding, and she knew enough not to send any important information. It was good to hear her voice.

He had little to do except think, and few of his thoughts were comforting. If he were alone on the case, it would be over for him, at least for now. But he had a partner, and he had to think about what that meant. He wasn't a training officer, but that didn't absolve him from giving Livvy the essentials of LLE work. He had thoroughly discussed the case with Livvy, and tried to give her a few basics along the way, but there was a lot he had neglected.

Did Livvy know by now that if the Chief followed his own strict policy, she was left to working the case alone? Chris understood and respected the policy, and had preferred working cases alone, for that matter, but Livvy was an LLE rookie. He had faith that Livvy would continue to work energetically, but that meant that his inattention yesterday, which had landed him here, was likely to get her killed.

It was no excuse that they had been thrown almost immediately into this complicated case with the concomitant distraction of becoming targets for assassination.

Did she know she could trust Meg and the Chief, and not trust Williams, who was almost certainly Bedford's LLE ally?

She was a quick study; she'd understand by now how important it was to avoid media attention. That was probably Bedford's biggest advantage, knowing from Williams that LLE shunned publicity so completely that
the sad truth was that if he succeeded with his plan, unless someone very persistent found some incontrovertible evidence and refused to bury it, he wouldn't be challenged, at least legally. Jesse would take Bedford's place and die; John would get Jesse's allotment. Jesse's parents would be dead and everyone else in his life could be replaced. No one, other than a few people in LLE and Paula Bedford, would suspect. The scandal would be buried with Jesse.

On the other hand, odds were good that he could count on Williams to minimize to Bedford the threat Livvy represented. Williams might also let Bedford understand that Chris could be held indefinitely without significant LLE retaliation, and emphasize to Bedford how important it was to figure out how Chris had found Bedford's connection to Josephson. That might keep Bedford from killing him outright.

He kicked the guilt around a while longer and then set it aside as unproductive. Later, if there was a later, he could re-explore it and what it meant to him.

By 10 pm he was tired of mentally running through the same pointless scenarios.
A small, private war. For now, it was all on Livvy.

He had another glass of Chablis while he set a chair loaded with some cooking equipment leaning against the sliding door. Sometimes, primitive traps were the most reliable. Even if he had missed an acueye or two and they knew he was sleeping, no one could come in without creating a racket. Then he went back to the bed, carefully lowered himself until he was flat on his back, and stared at the ceiling. He might as well sleep, if he could.

Chp. 14 Tactics (Friday night)

When Livvy called Bruno Morelli's home code a woman answered. Chris had mentioned, after they were introduced, that Bruno had been happily married for over sixty years. Cara, that was her name.

"Maybe yes, maybe no," the pleasant female voice answered when Livvy asked to speak to him. "You do realize that it's 2230?"

"Yes, ma'am," Livvy said. "Unfortunately I still need to speak to him. It's important. Urgent really."

"But not quite an emergency yet, and you're counting on Bruno to help prevent one."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Whom may I say is calling?"

"Livvy Hutchins. I'm Chris McGregor's new partner."

"Ah, yes. Well, my dear, I'm quite sure Bruno will talk to
you
," the voice said, then, in a muffled shout, "Bruno. It's Chris' Botticelli Venus."

"How is Chris?" the voice asked, back on the comu.

"Currently missing."

"Hmm, and how long has that been going on?"

"Over 28 hours now."

"I see," the voice said, and then again, muffled. "Bruno, you might as well get dressed and take the call in the car.

"Hang on. He was in the laver, but if you give him another moment, he'll be in the car, and you can explain it to him while he's on his way."

Twenty minutes later Livvy was in Bruno's office in the Special Tactical unit. She'd told him as much as she could over the comu while he was on his way. Given the blanket order from the Chief, that wasn't much. In the end, he knew little more than what she'd told Cara: Chris was missing and hadn't responded to communication for over 28 hours, and that she and Chris had been working on a major case that had given Livvy reason to be worried.

"Look, I know how LLE works. I've been supplying McGregor with bags of tricks for almost 60 years, and never asked a question I didn't need answered to do the job. But you are one little... " Bruno said, frowning briefly and then giving her an apologetic smile, "... woman, and most of the guys LLE goes after have plenty of resources, which means brigades of lethally-armed muscle-bound security lugs."

"Yes, but I'm quick and strong on initiative," Livvy said. "Look, Bruno, I'm going after McGregor with or without your help, and I don't have much time.

"If it comes down to numbers, which we can surely anticipate it will, McGregor, or even you, won't weigh in that much heavier than I do. It's your tricks and my enterprise. Synergy."

Bruno assessed her. He wasn't going to find a nick in her resolve, she thought, which meant that he was worrying about her capabilities. She sat up straight and firmed her jaw, concentrating on projecting the kind of image that would dispel his concerns about her atrophied tactical skills.

"Okay, so we need to start with the basics," Bruno said finally. "I'm gonna guess it's been a while since you've been on the street in some situations. You know about the reversal implants the pros are getting now? They're better than ours."

Livvy nodded.

"These mickey-mouse gangs of security guards most of the rich are hiring get them, too. The guards put it on their friggin' resumes.

"So. In a take-no-prisoners kind of scenario you want to use duoloads and put two in everyone. They have a short, very fast-acting sop and a much longer-acting one. They're still considered safe so you can use two even on non-players, but even three is unlikely to kill anyone, especially if they have an implant. Use 'em if you need to. I'll set you up with some clips of duoload darts that will work with a standard Stinger.

"What else do you think you'll need?" Bruno asked.

Livvy put her elbows on Bruno's desk, rested her chin in her hands, and prepared to pay close attention.

"What kind of bombs do you have?"

Bruno smiled.

• • •

When Agnew had called Bedford's mansion a fortress he had exaggerated. There were no ramparts, canons, or visible guards, other than one man at the gatehouse. There was a complete seven meter tall perimeter wall topped with glass and razor wire with an ironwork gate at the driveway - the old ways were often still the best, especially if one worried about technical failures - and there were undoubtedly security acueyes with comprehensive coverage of the house, inside and out. The rest of the guards would be inside. Not a fortress, a fortified mansion. She parked three blocks away, and resigned herself to waiting. She was so tired of waiting.

During the half hour she'd delayed before confronting Agnew in the bar, she'd accessed 3-D utility maps of all of Bedford's known properties in the city and narrowed her search down to a few possibilities. By mentioning the bunker, which of course wasn't portrayed on anything official, Agnew had given her a final direction. She couldn't confirm; Chris' comu positioning system was jammed, as it had been all day, but this was her one chance and her best information. McGregor had to be in this house.

"Why should our luck start now?" Livvy muttered to herself. From the passenger seat, Louie wagged his tail hesitantly.

"Yes, Louie, we're going in to look for Chris," she said. "Soon."

She had an hour before the time she had selected for going in, and while she waited she unpacked and repacked her satchel of Bruno's gifts, reviewing the use, operation, and position of each one. LLE was even more powerful than she'd imagined but she knew she was going well beyond its legal mandate, both in what she was going to do and how she was going about it. It no longer mattered. Later, when she had time, she'd dwell on the twist LLE gave her philosophical question: did this make her a good cop or a bad one?

Chris had warned her: a private little war. Megan and the Chief had unofficially sanctioned it. Bedford had asked for it. At the moment, fueled by rage over Mickey Bedford's death and Jesse's kidnapping, she was looking forward to it. Handy thing, rage.

She was counting on a number of factors to make her effort possible: Chris would be in the underground bunker, safe from her first assault and retaliation from the guards. The element of surprise, and the fact that she would be almost alone, would make it difficult for Bedford's security to respond effectively. And more importantly, Bedford's guards wouldn't be calling in anyone from the public sector because the last thing Bedford wanted was regular Enforcement responding to the breach. She was cool with that; secrecy was part of her mandate, and everyone she met would be his private security, and fair game.

And last but not least, they wouldn't expect that she could be lead straight to Chris' location. They wouldn't expect Louie.

Her hour was up. She got out of the car, Louie following, and hefted her pack onto her shoulder, where it settled securely. It was a cool night with a quarter moon and a slight breeze. The only sounds were from a few mechanicals along the distant arterial roads, the whispery scrunch of her shoes on the sidewalk, the crickets, and Louie's intermittent excited panting. When she got to a point across the street and far enough from Bedford's property that she should still be out of range of the acueyes at the gate, she paused and dropped to one knee by Louie's side.

This part couldn't be helped. She could only hope that Louie was as smart as she believed he was.

"Louie, gate," she said, speaking clearly and pointing at the ironwork gates 80 meters ahead. "Gate. Sit. Stay now."

If Louie was puzzled, he didn't show it, other than to cock his head to one side and look her in the eyes. He sat silently and watched her walk away.

This part of the city was full of mature trees and some of them, fortunately, were close to Bedford's perimeter wall and probably cherished by neighbors who didn't share his paranoia. If Bedford was obeying the strict privacy laws enacted at the beginning of the century, and she was counting on his powerful neighbors to compel him to do so, then he'd have no acueyes overlooking his neighbor's property. On the other hand, Bruno had assured her that those same neighbors would respect her LLE sleeve insignia when they saw it glowing for their acueyes. They would certainly monitor her intrusion like an owl tracking a mouse, he'd said, but would know better than to interfere. She was LLE.

She crept along the outside of Bedford's perimeter wall a short distance through the neighbor's yard and approached the tree she had spotted earlier during her drive-by. Using it would allow her to avoid any early contact with the wall, which was probably touch-sensitive, or at least she had to assume so.

Tonight, getting into her first position would be the last time she would be able to hesitate. Once she left there, she couldn't stop again until she found her partner. As she climbed up and settled into a good place to sit in the lower branches she thought briefly of Robert Maas, and experienced a bitter aftertaste of vulnerability. If there was after all a perimeter acueye capturing her every move, they were just waiting to find out if she was alone before starting to take shots at her, and she would have no chance at success.

Forcing herself to wait one more minute, she took her first good look at the house. As far as she could see Bedford's house plans and the security plans for the neighbor's were both precisely matching the plans she'd gotten from the city's building permit files. She opened her expandable pack, and while she continued to survey the compound with half her attention, she took out the launcher piece by piece and she assembled it by touch. Now, she heard only the crickets, the soft rustling of the leaves surrounding her, and the incongruous clicks of the launcher pieces snapping together. Other than the guard at the gate, she saw no movement.

Here we go
, she thought. With the launcher set to automatic fire and her entire supply of 30 Spritzer'n'Smokes, or Spritzers as Bruno called them, fit into the magazine, all she had to do was aim so that they landed, one every 2 seconds, in variable positions on the roof. The launcher made only a small puff when the bombs were fired, but they hit the roof and occasionally the side of the house with thumps and clanking that was surely enough to awaken everyone inside. The Spritzers that landed on the roof all rolled off onto the balconies and decks and terraces with which the mansion was generously outfitted, making rattling sounds as they rolled.

When she'd fired off the last Spritzer, she tossed the launcher over the wall into Bedford's yard and lobed the Basebombs at the windows across the side of the house by hand. They exploded instantly with a louder pop, still quiet enough to keep the noise within the perimeter wall, and sprayed dangerous dissolving liquids over the glass, giving her a choice of entrances. Thirty seconds after landing, the Spritzers began going off with a soft hiss. They were as spectacular as Bruno had promised, sort of a combination of sustained low-key, sizzling fireworks that confounded infrared and motion detectors, and copious thick smoke that not only enclosed the entire two floors of the house, but billowed across the yard with the slight breeze.

It was time to move. She threw her armored tarp over the sharp hazards, tossed her pack after the launcher and jumped, briefly settling on top of the wall. From there, she grasped the lower edge of the tarp hanging inside the wall and swung down into Bedford's home territory. Her grip on the tarp was enough to let her hang for a second and then she dropped with a soft thump, rolled, and got to her feet in one continuous, unforgiving move.

There was no phalanx of gunmen rushing like apparitions out of the engulfing smoke and the sustained flaring of the Spritzers, so she wouldn't need to drop her pack, throw hands in the air and pretend she'd made a wrong turn. They hadn't spotted her approach, and now, the acueyes had to be in a three-way daze. Cloaked in the sensory confusion, she should be essentially invisible.

First Louie. Since she was as blind as they were, it was a matter of vectors of planned movement, using the house for orientation. A 50 meter rush to the house through drifting smoke and the sparkling light show she'd created, then a turn towards the gate, tossing some pure Smokes through the dissolved windows as she picked up speed passing along the side of the house. Her advantage approaching the gate was that she knew where the gatekeeper had been standing. She ran towards that spot out of the smoke, already aiming, and hit him with two duoloads without slowing down. He went down like an axed tree.