John Shirley - Watch Dogs - Dark Clouds

No. She’d liked GlowWorm. She’d liked Ruth Medina. That was two people she’d liked, murdered—and the “tracks” all led back to Chicago.

No. She was going to find the alternate contact, on this flashdrive. And she was going to convince them to upload the file—despite what had happened to GlowWorm.

This morning, police said that the victim at yesterday’s shooting in one of the most serene settings of south Washington Park was killed with a 7.62 mm rifle bullet associated with sniper rifles. The man has not yet been publicly identified. Bullet casings were found on the roof of a parking garage across from the park.

A press release from the CPD indicated…

Wolfe felt a chill reading the article in the online Chicago Tribune. He had no clear reason to assume this killing was related to him, or Verrick. Or Purity. But something about the use of that particular ammo, and the military-style placement of the shooter, suggested Purity.

“Hey Wolfe…”

Wolfe almost jumped out of his chair again. “Dammit, Pearce, do you have to boom your voice like that out of the PC? That’s the second time you made me jump.”

Pearce’s face suddenly filled the PC screen. “And how come you’re so jumpy?”

“That’d make anyone jump.” After a moment he admitted, “But this sniper killing in Washington Park…”

“Yeah. I’m following that too. I suspect Purity. Police haven’t released the info but they think the guy was a hacker who went by the name GlowWorm. Might be associated with DedSec. But that’s always hard to confirm. DedSec specializes in making it hard to confirm. ”

“You made any progress on confirming Niall Quinn in sending Grampus after you?”

“Not definitely. But I’ve confirmed he’s taking over the Club. He’s not quite there yet—he’s got rivals. But he’s got control of some sex slavery ring they’ve got going.”

“Nice guy.”

“Yeah. I’m ninety per cent sure he’s the one who called for a hit on me. I’ll get closer to a hundred per cent… and I’ll take him out. In my own time, in my own way.”

“DedSec… T-Bone’s got some connection with them.”

“Some. He’s not one of them though. How’d you get to know T-Bone anyway?”

“We used a white-hat hacking consultant, to try to work up protections against drone spoofing. The guy told me about T-Bone. Said he had ‘the dirt under his fingernails’. Whatever that means. I guess it means he’s not particularly ‘White Hat’.”

“Definitely not. But he’s an idealist, in his own way.”

“When I got out of prison I thought he might be the guy to find you for me. I called my friend, he sent a text to T-Bone. Who called me. Told me about Blank…”

“Okay. You…” Pearce’s face and voice fuzzed out for a few seconds, then came back. “…and if he’s willing to talk to you…”

“Wait, I lost you there. That indicate we’re being tracked?”

“Nah, it’s my system for keeping them from tracking us. I switch from server to server, frequency to frequency. It’s set up to be smooth but sometimes there’s delays. I was saying, you should get in touch with DedSec. See if you can find out what the story is on that file. Maybe they’ll give it to us if they don’t want to leak it themselves. I’ll give you another contact. This guy’s kinda mercenary—he’s in and out of DedSec. But he’s the right contact for what you’ve gotta do. He’ll need ’’a fee though. Fancies himself a fixer. Guy’s name is Garnet. Just… Garnet .’ You need cash?”

“I’ll be okay. I’ve been using the PearcePhone to listen in to street dealers. Then I do the ATM thing. Most pushers have at least some money in the bank. I’ve accumulated a pretty good pile. I can pay with that.”

“Wait—the ‘PearcePhone’?”

“What I call it. The special phone you got to me.”

Pearce winced. “It’s not the phone, it’s the software that’s special. The custom apps. Just keep that ‘PearcePhone’ stuff to yourself. Don’t refer to it that way anyplace. In fact, don’t refer to it at all. One of these days, you’re gonna give that phone back to me.”

“And if I don’t?”

“If you don’t, I send it a signal to make it meltdown, Wolfe. If you happen to have it in your trouser pocket, you might need a testicle transplant.”

“Do they do those now? Because Verrick could use one. He hasn’t got the balls to face me.”

“Thinks like a military man. A Special Forces guy. How often did you Delta Force types take the enemy on face to face like Redcoats running toward the Minutemen so they could get mowed down?”

Wolfe smiled. “Point taken.”

“You need more supplies there?”

“There’s a guy with the Black Viceroys who buys stuff for me, meets me about a block away. I pay him good—but he’d probably do it anyway. Wants to keep Shuggie happy. Got to get some aspirin in but that’s about it. That Scotch of yours is a little too tempting when I’m having a rough day.”

“Keep your head clear, Wolfe. Things are about to get intense.”

“About to? What’s this been up to now?”

“Just mildly tense. Look for intense now. I’ll send you that new contact info for Garnet. Handle him carefully.”

“Wait—you say he’s on the fence… like you don’t always trust him.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why do you think I can trust him?”

“You can’t. But he’s your best shot right now to get in touch with DedSec. They’re kind of annoyed with me. Seems they think I brought too much spotlight down on them, and I refused to give them some accesses. Bunch of pussies.”

And Pearce ended the call.

Garnet was a man with his face and head so covered with tattoos it was difficult to identify his ethnicity. He was a blue-and-red man now. He had a ring through his nose and a small shark’s tooth through each earlobe. Garnet had defiant dark brown-black eyes, a sweatshirt with an obscure cryptogram on the front, almost like a superhero’s chest symbol; there were copper clasps on his Maori tattooed forearms.

Actually, Garnet was laughing at the whole world’, because Wolfe, who was on the roof of the old tenement, was seeing Garnet on the PearcePhone’s screen… and he was seeing a frozen digital image Garnet used for trusted contacts. That is, relatively trusted contacts.

Suddenly the animated image moved. “What do you want?” came ’Garnet’s voice. The image looked at Wolfe with Max Headroom cynical inquisitiveness.

“I don’t know if you remember me, last time it was just texts, my name is—”

“I know who you are, Wolfe,” the animation interrupted. “I can see you. ”And I used my own system to I.D. you. You’re ex-military. Army special forces. With your technical training, I figure you’re one of those scumbags who blow up kids with drones.”

Wolfe controlled his temper. “I only hit targets that we knew were… never mind. You want to talk to me or not?”

“Why should I?”

“I need a connection.”

“This won’t be free, if I decide to do it. Far from free.” Garnet told him.

“You’re kidding me.”

“No, Wolfe, I’m not fucking kidding you. You got it or not?”

“Why am I looking at an animation of you?”

“Because it’s better security for reasons I don’t care to explain. Especially to an ex-military geek like you.”

“From what I’ve heard, your hands aren’t so clean either.”

“Wolfe—fuck off.”

“Wait a minute. I’ll meet your price.”