Cliff Ryder - The Finish Line

Kate bit back the response that sprang to mind — which would have involved a physical impossibility — and tamped down her anger at being second-guessed. "Good, I'm glad that arrived so quickly. Yes, as I outlined in the report, there are several excellent reasons to keep them on the job, not the least of which is the fact that they are familiar with the situation, and are already on-site."

Judy shook her head. "Surely we have other Midnight Teams that could take over. If possible, I'd suggest plenty of downtime, evaluation and perhaps even some retraining. This Southerland operative — it sounds like he's got a definite problem with authority — not what a team leader needs in this kind of situation."

Kate resisted the urge to duck out of sight for a moment to massage her temples. "Judy, you know I like to have team captains police their units unless more drastic action is necessary. After all, they did stop the terrorist plot, recovered the bioweapons and took out two of the hostiles, as well. All in all, a good day's work in my book. And since M-One didn't request any kind of replacement, I am accepting his willingness to go forward as an indicator that his team is operating at full readiness."

"Be that as it may, it's how they did it that is of some concern, on-site or not…"

Kate decided to cut to the chase. "Judy, we have an unknown force running, who is willing to kill anyone in its path to get what it wants. I've made the executive decision to place a team in the vicinity and try to recover this missing person first to see what they're after. Rather than risk an operative, I'm using a Midnight Team because they stand the best chance of taking these people on again and coming out alive. I'm using this Midnight Team because they've faced these hostiles before and won, and they will most likely do it again. End of discussion."

Judy's lips pursed for the briefest moment, and Kate knew she had won. "I see. Rather like using a chainsaw to cut up a birthday cake, but I expect they'll manage without causing too much collateral damage. I'd hate to see more news reports like what the tabloids reported this morning."

"Yes, I saw it, too. Typical Fleet Street nonsense." Kate glanced at the front page of a prominent British rag, its headline screaming Joint U.S.-U.K. Anti-Terrorist Squad Loose On London Streets. If they only knew the real story, they'd crap all over their keyboards, Kate thought. "Just reporters grasping at straws to sell more copies. Besides, that's probably Samantha doing a bit of counterpropaganda. Hard to confirm anything when all of your sources refuse to be identified."

Judy barely nodded. "I suppose so. There are several other matters that require your input — if you're not too busy."

"Not at all." She should already know the words "I'm too busy" aren't in my vocabulary, Kate thought, but she merely smiled. They spent the next twenty minutes going over other matters, keeping their interaction at its usual, barely cordial simmer. Kate wanted to draw the call to a close as soon as she could, planning to get up and take a walk around, even if it was just up and down the hotel hallway. But to do that, she had to extract herself from middle-management hell.

"All right, Judy, launch the Vanuatu operation — should be interesting, given its location. Our operatives may be interviewing the local fauna for details about what's going on there. Also, please handle the debrief for the operative who just returned from the Yucatan — if that illegal-immigrant-smuggling pipeline is still there, I want to know the reason why. Thanks, but I've got to run, Judy, I have an important conference that's going to be starting here soon."

The British woman's face wrinkled in a frown of seeming concern. "What? I have your schedule up here, and I don't see anything posted for the next…"

"It just came up, and I'll send you the details afterward. Postop on the law-enforcement conference." Over Judy's surprised protests, Kate terminated the connection and leaned back in her chair with a sigh.

"It's a good thing I don't bother you that much." The low voice in the doorway made her spin around to see Jake leaning against the frame, both hands held up in reassurance. "Whoa, boss, calm down, it's just me."

Kate sighed. "I should be mad, but I guess sneaking up on me means you're doing your job well. How'd the training go?" Seeing as how she was going to be stuck in her hotel room, she had let Jake go for the assignment Samantha had discussed the night before. He had left without a word, leaving her to wonder when he slept.

"These guys are on the ball. Didn't have to show them too much. They were already well versed in most of the fine arts. We swapped a few tricks on covert surveillance and shadowing, and then spent a good hour on tactical driving." A grin split his serious visage for a second before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. "That was fun. On the way back, I checked with the lab about that pistol — no luck there. The serial numbers have been removed. It did have a fairly rare threaded barrel to accept a silencer, but they removed the numbers on it, as well. Looks like another dead end. How you doing here?"

Kate pulled off her headset and tossed it on the desk. "I'm about ready to climb these very nice hotel walls. What say you to a couple of hours of sightseeing?"

Jake bowed slightly from the waist and motioned toward the door with his hand. "I'm yours to command."

"Well, yeah, that is the idea. Just let me change and…" The insistent trill of the computer brought Kate back to reality, freezing her in midstep.

"Is our chariot turning back into a pumpkin?" Jake's face showed no trace of a smile.

Against her will, Kate sank back down into her chair. "Just a minute — maybe it's something that can be dealt with quickly." She slipped on her headset and connected. "This is Primary."

A twenty-something kid with green hair and several piercings dotting an eyebrow, ear and lip appeared on the screen. "Primary? This is Autom8. I got a line on your dead merc."

Turning the rest of her body toward the screen, which had her full attention now, Kate waved Jake off with one hand.

"Subject is — or was, rather — one Jordan Tancreo, formerly of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil." The man's picture appeared in a split screen next to the hacker's metal-decorated profile. "Former army military sergeant, then a police officer below the equator, but he apparently decided neighborhood bribery and shakedowns weren't enough for him, so he went for the big time and joined Mercury Security, Inc."

Kate leaned in. "You're sure about that?"

"Employed with the company for two years before his untimely demise."

Kate drummed her fingers on the desk. What does this mean? Was it pure coincidence that Terrence Weatherby, who had spoken to her at the conference yesterday, had no idea who she really was? Or did he? After a moment, she dismissed the thought. Paranoia is a way of life in this business. These two events had to be connected only by the merest of coincidences. However, she couldn't have been handed a better way to investigate them…

Kate moved the microphone away from her mouth. "Rain check, Jake — I've got something here I have to follow up on."

With a silent nod, he ghosted out of the room while Kate turned back to the monitor. "Good work, Autom8." She didn't pause at his online handle — Kate had been dealing with various hackers for far too long to be amused or concerned at their unusual idiosyncrasies. "Get me all current data on the company."

"It's uploading now for you, both public and private data. They seem to be having some cash-flow problems lately."

"That would explain their trolling for business at the convention. Great, this is great. Keep digging, but be sure to stay out of sight."