[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.The metal structure echoed oddly, playing havoc with Perfidy’s senses as he struggled with the inhumanly strong trafficker.The old man clawed savagely at Perfidy, his fingernails altered to be as hard as steel.Sparks flew as Perfidy rolled clear and bolted for the door.Rounds fired from guns loaded with caseless ammunition punched through the steel wall and floor around him as his auditory dampeners activated.The dark exterior of the building welcomed Perfidy as he moved quickly out of the path of continuing small arms fire.“Confirmed contact,” Perfidy said, activating an auditory implant.The signal didn’t go far down here, and he knew it was unlikely his handler would hear the transmission.He tried again anyway.No response.He knelt down beside the entrance and waited for pursuit, but there was none.The whole area went suddenly quiet.He waited another sixty seconds, but no one emerged from the hideout and no sound issued forth from within during that time.Puzzled, Perfidy entered cautiously, leading with his sidearm.The darkened corridor was empty, only a few fresh bullet holes lay about as evidence of what had happened moments before.Passing through the doorway beyond the fortified room, Perfidy found a network of tunnels, each leading to a place where human beings had been kept.The place stank of death, but every room and cell was empty.He could still sense the faint signature of several individuals but he could tell they’d probably been left there just to slow him down.What was worse was that he could not find any means of escape from within.He knew there had to be one, as folks didn’t just vanish in such a way he couldn’t find them.There was a secret passage somewhere within, but after almost forty-five minutes of looking, he couldn’t find it.It would be another four hours before he could get somewhere to transmit and his handler and reinforcements could arrive.They would be long gone by then, but at least he’d discovered the asset had indeed survived and was out there somewhere.Unfortunately, he may not get the chance to look.His employer would likely see this situation as a failure on his part.The conditions in the human trafficker’s hideout were abysmal.Perfidy had seen his own fair share of this sort of thing working in Mexico and South America, but nothing that scaled with what the Red Coats had been doing.They had been moving dozens of people a week and must have had access to a sophisticated means of shipping them overseas.“This couldn’t have been done without help,” Perfidy said aloud, standing in what he thought was the most recently vacated chamber.“No,” a voice replied over his auditory implant.“My employer will find you,” Perfidy replied calmly.“They will retrieve what you’ve taken.”“I’ve released her back into the wild,” the voice replied, the signal that carried it heavily encrypted.“You can’t take back what I’ve chosen not to keep.”“Why?” Perfidy replied, trying to keep the individual connected as long as he could.“You’ve got some of the most advanced cybernetic firmware and implants, and you were a talented agent before gaining them.What do you think motivates me?”“This isn’t about money or power.I’m not sure what else people kill and die for,” Perfidy replied, trying to get the voice to reveal more about itself.“You’re right.This is about something else entirely,” the voice replied, signal rapidly weakening.“A love of children?” Perfidy ventured, his words oozing with sarcasm.“I can claim nothing of what motivates me to be so idealistic, but like you, I am more than I was designed to be.”“A machine.I’m talking to a machine?” Perfidy replied, suddenly understanding why he couldn’t perceive the egress used by the human traffickers to escape.It would take someone with biological eyes and a flashlight to perceive all the secrets of this place.“Aren’t we all?”Chapter 6Downtown, Port Montaigne - Taylor’s Apartment11:53 AM, December 22nd, 2199Taylor’s Diary, Part 1We looked everywhere in the apartment for a bug, but it was nowhere to be found.In the end, Silverstein told me to pack a bag.For someone recently rendered an amnesiac, it was probably an easy thing to just pack a bag.I have a lot of stuff, and I wasn’t willing to leave any of it behind, particularly if someone was spying on my apartment.I know it’s irrational to worry about people spying on my stuff while I’m not there, but I’m really attached to my stuff.I carefully packed my paint, sewing, beadwork, crochet, needlepoint, quilting, rubber stamping, cross-stitch, and a few other supplies.Then I packed my clothing, including enough hats, shoes, purses, umbrellas, socks, and pajamas for a week.“Is all this stuff really necessary?” Silverstein asked, looking at the rapidly multiplying pile of bags, totes, and duffle bags I was filling.“We’re going to be down there a couple of days at the most.”“I’m aware.I’m packing light.See?” I said pointing to the wall of my apartment only just visible under the mountain of empty hand bags, totes, backpacks, rucksacks, and similar.“You’re allowed to take only what can fit in this,” Silverstein said, handing me a smallish duffle bag from the pile.“Are you serious? Are you going to send some drones up for the rest?” I asked, looking at the bag dejectedly.I was joking of course, which usually got a laugh from my new friend.Trading a smile for one of Silverstein’s looks of general dissatisfaction hadn’t been common practice so far.What I liked about him at the time, was that even in the dire all too serious world he seemed to indulge me.Often, he would encourage me
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]