Ideally, we want to net this Sheppard character and his cargo…”
Miller nodded again. “Agreed. And as much as I’d like to be there with you on this, I’ve got fires to put out here in Prague. But there’s one other piece of the puzzle we got from our intercept that you’re going to find real helpful. We know where Sheppard and his crew are heading, and my guess is, that’s where the exchange will go down.”
Jarreau felt a tingle of anticipation. This could be the strongest lead they’d had in months. “Let’s hear it.”
“You ever been to Detroit?” asked Miller, with a wan smile.
SARIF INDUSTRIES – DETROIT – UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
The twin pillars of the building rose up into the midnight sky before them, and Jensen traced the shapes of the towers, black and dead against the rain that was falling. For a brief moment, it was like looking up at a giant grave marker, and the harshness of the mental image made him grimace. For all the light that David Sarif’s self-styled ‘beacon’ had cast over the streets of Detroit, it would always be cemented in Jensen’s mind as a place that had changed his life in darker ways than he would have wished.
Pritchard nodded toward the main entrance from beneath his hoodie. “Can’t get in that way,” he said. The first two floors of the building were surrounded by a fence topped with barbed wire, the windows blacked out by metal security grilles retrofitted to the walls. Dim lights moved around behind the panels, back and forth in regular patterns.
“Guards in there?” asked Stacks. His breathing was labored, but he was keeping up.
“Not human ones,” Pritchard explained. “Follow me. There’s another route inside.”
The streets were deserted here. Aside from the metallic rumble of the occasional passing people mover overhead, there was no-one around to see the three of them pick their way toward the locked entrance to the SI building’s underground car park.
A massive metal shutter sealed it off from the street level, but one corner of the panel had been dented and stove in. Jensen saw the hulk of a burned-out Motokun cargo truck nearby.
“Some people tried to break in the hard way,” said Pritchard, off his look. “They didn’t get very far.”
Rounding the front of the dead truck, Jensen saw that the grille and the windshield were a mess of bullet holes. Whatever weapon had done the damage was large-caliber and fully automatic. “Cops just let that happen?” he asked.
“They pulled out of the local police precinct after the riots,” said the hacker. “These days, the law doesn’t come down to this part of the city unless it’s in an APC or a gunship.”
“So, who did that?” Stacks pointed at the truck.
Pritchard jerked a thumb at the barrier. “The new owners.”
On the drop-gate there was a warning sign in Chinese, English and Spanish which made short work of explaining that this site now belonged to Tai Yong Medical Incorporated, and that intruders would face lethal force.
The hacker crouched low and peered into the gap between the floor and the bent door. “A little help?” He looked pointedly at Stacks.
The other man blew out a breath, and with a grunt of exertion, he pulled the bent corner of the door up a little more, enough so Pritchard could squeeze through. Jensen went after him, and Stack followed, shouldering awkwardly through the gap.
Inside, the parking garage was murky and the air held the lingering stink of burned plastics and battery acid. The smart-vision system in Jensen’s cyberoptics immediately adjusted for the low-light level, and he watched Pritchard advance gingerly across the concrete cavern. Keeping pace, the three men moved as silently as possible from one support pillar to another. In the far corner of the garage, Jensen saw a blinking crimson light on the exit door leading to the stairwell.
Pritchard had explained his intrusion plan on the way from the Rialto, and Jensen didn’t like it.
Miller nodded again. “Agreed. And as much as I’d like to be there with you on this, I’ve got fires to put out here in Prague. But there’s one other piece of the puzzle we got from our intercept that you’re going to find real helpful. We know where Sheppard and his crew are heading, and my guess is, that’s where the exchange will go down.”
Jarreau felt a tingle of anticipation. This could be the strongest lead they’d had in months. “Let’s hear it.”
“You ever been to Detroit?” asked Miller, with a wan smile.
SARIF INDUSTRIES – DETROIT – UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
The twin pillars of the building rose up into the midnight sky before them, and Jensen traced the shapes of the towers, black and dead against the rain that was falling. For a brief moment, it was like looking up at a giant grave marker, and the harshness of the mental image made him grimace. For all the light that David Sarif’s self-styled ‘beacon’ had cast over the streets of Detroit, it would always be cemented in Jensen’s mind as a place that had changed his life in darker ways than he would have wished.
Pritchard nodded toward the main entrance from beneath his hoodie. “Can’t get in that way,” he said. The first two floors of the building were surrounded by a fence topped with barbed wire, the windows blacked out by metal security grilles retrofitted to the walls. Dim lights moved around behind the panels, back and forth in regular patterns.
“Guards in there?” asked Stacks. His breathing was labored, but he was keeping up.
“Not human ones,” Pritchard explained. “Follow me. There’s another route inside.”
The streets were deserted here. Aside from the metallic rumble of the occasional passing people mover overhead, there was no-one around to see the three of them pick their way toward the locked entrance to the SI building’s underground car park.
A massive metal shutter sealed it off from the street level, but one corner of the panel had been dented and stove in. Jensen saw the hulk of a burned-out Motokun cargo truck nearby.
“Some people tried to break in the hard way,” said Pritchard, off his look. “They didn’t get very far.”
Rounding the front of the dead truck, Jensen saw that the grille and the windshield were a mess of bullet holes. Whatever weapon had done the damage was large-caliber and fully automatic. “Cops just let that happen?” he asked.
“They pulled out of the local police precinct after the riots,” said the hacker. “These days, the law doesn’t come down to this part of the city unless it’s in an APC or a gunship.”
“So, who did that?” Stacks pointed at the truck.
Pritchard jerked a thumb at the barrier. “The new owners.”
On the drop-gate there was a warning sign in Chinese, English and Spanish which made short work of explaining that this site now belonged to Tai Yong Medical Incorporated, and that intruders would face lethal force.
The hacker crouched low and peered into the gap between the floor and the bent door. “A little help?” He looked pointedly at Stacks.
The other man blew out a breath, and with a grunt of exertion, he pulled the bent corner of the door up a little more, enough so Pritchard could squeeze through. Jensen went after him, and Stack followed, shouldering awkwardly through the gap.
Inside, the parking garage was murky and the air held the lingering stink of burned plastics and battery acid. The smart-vision system in Jensen’s cyberoptics immediately adjusted for the low-light level, and he watched Pritchard advance gingerly across the concrete cavern. Keeping pace, the three men moved as silently as possible from one support pillar to another. In the far corner of the garage, Jensen saw a blinking crimson light on the exit door leading to the stairwell.
Pritchard had explained his intrusion plan on the way from the Rialto, and Jensen didn’t like it.
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