trying to see it."
"You were looking for it, sir?"
Brownbarr shrugged. "If you were an ASP agent, what would you do? You needed to leave some sort of message."
Mothinghotch was silent for a moment. "Uh, sir," he started, "The letter A isn't much of a message."
"On the contrary," Brownbarr said, turning around and striding out the door. "It gives us our murderer's identity."
"How?" Mothinghotch trailed Brownbarr into the hall.
"It tells us what we're dealing with."
"I don't quite understand, sir."
"A is the first letter in an acronym that should be well known to you." Brownbarr halted at the hotel's stairs and glanced back at Mothinghotch.
Mothinghotch's eyes widened. "The AAA."
************
On his way out of the hotel, Brownbarr called Rolvo back at intelligence. Mothinghotch followed silently.
"Call connected," said his comm.
"Rolvo, can you hear me?" Brownbarr said.
"Loud and cleah, sah." Rolvo's voice crackled a little, but the connection was otherwise good.
"Any news on Tarent's comm?"
"We've traced a signal. It showed up first in the hotel, but the signal was either corrupted or permanently shut down."
Brownbarr frowned. "It fits with my theory, I suppose."
"Which is?"
"We're dealing with an AAA man. Tarent scrawled the letter A on the wall of the hotel, and someone tried to scrub it off."
There was a pause. "That cleahs things up," Rolvo said. "The man is obviously good with tech, which means we may be dealing with the AAA ringleadah, the one that kidnapped Mr. Vullahman. He has yet to be found.”
Brownbarr thought about this for a moment. "Continue working on locating Tarent's comm. I'll do some detective work here."
"Yes, sah. I'll call you if I have any furthah information."
Brownbarr disconnected the call and walked back into the hotel.
"Uh, sir?" Mothinghotch again, walking along behind Brownbarr. "Where are you going?"
"Into the hotel." Brownbarr pushed open the door and walked up to the stomach-high front desk. A young lady in blue slouched behind the counter, fiddling with a hotel pen and looking indescribably bored. Her name tag read "Florence".
"But sir, we've already been in—"
Brownbarr turned. "You do your job, Mothinghotch, and I'll do mine. Now do me a favor and shut up."
Mothinghotch pressed his lips together and didn't say another word.
Brownbarr faced the desk again. "Miss?"
Florence sat up. "Yeah?"
"I'm looking for a friend of mine. He's a bit shorter than me, with close-cropped black hair and dark eyes, probably dressed casually, with a Persian complexion. He also has a bracelet made of wood around his wrist."
"Look, grandpa," Florence said, leaning back in her chair, "I'm only takin' a summer job while my uncle's makin' moolah. I don't know this place any better than—"
"Look, miss, can you just tell me if you've seen my friend?" Brownbarr restrained his anger. It probably wouldn't do any good to rant at a spoiled teen—she'd probably just clam up.
"Maybe I have." Florence glanced at him.
With a huff, Brownbarr dug into his pocket and threw some money on the table. "Will that help jog your memory?"
"Just fine, grandpa." Florence counted up the money. "I saw your...friend. A couple days back. He left early in the morning. He was a handsome guy, so I tried talkin' to him. Couldn't get much outta him, but he said he was headin' somewhere west of EC."
"Thanks, that's all I need." Brownbarr turned and headed back out the door.
Mothinghotch walked beside Brownbarr and glanced at him. "Uh, sir, what exactly just happened?"
Brownbarr ignored Mothinghotch and called Rolvo again. "Rolvo? I've got news."
"Yes, sah?"
"We're after the AAA ringleader. The lady at the hotel desk needed a bit of cash to jog her memory, but she's seen him, and he's heading somewhere west of the European Confederation."
"On it, sah."
Brownbarr hung up.
"Sir—" Mothinghotch started.
"Mothinghotch, if you say another word, I'm going to lynch you. You'll find out what's going on soon
"You were looking for it, sir?"
Brownbarr shrugged. "If you were an ASP agent, what would you do? You needed to leave some sort of message."
Mothinghotch was silent for a moment. "Uh, sir," he started, "The letter A isn't much of a message."
"On the contrary," Brownbarr said, turning around and striding out the door. "It gives us our murderer's identity."
"How?" Mothinghotch trailed Brownbarr into the hall.
"It tells us what we're dealing with."
"I don't quite understand, sir."
"A is the first letter in an acronym that should be well known to you." Brownbarr halted at the hotel's stairs and glanced back at Mothinghotch.
Mothinghotch's eyes widened. "The AAA."
************
On his way out of the hotel, Brownbarr called Rolvo back at intelligence. Mothinghotch followed silently.
"Call connected," said his comm.
"Rolvo, can you hear me?" Brownbarr said.
"Loud and cleah, sah." Rolvo's voice crackled a little, but the connection was otherwise good.
"Any news on Tarent's comm?"
"We've traced a signal. It showed up first in the hotel, but the signal was either corrupted or permanently shut down."
Brownbarr frowned. "It fits with my theory, I suppose."
"Which is?"
"We're dealing with an AAA man. Tarent scrawled the letter A on the wall of the hotel, and someone tried to scrub it off."
There was a pause. "That cleahs things up," Rolvo said. "The man is obviously good with tech, which means we may be dealing with the AAA ringleadah, the one that kidnapped Mr. Vullahman. He has yet to be found.”
Brownbarr thought about this for a moment. "Continue working on locating Tarent's comm. I'll do some detective work here."
"Yes, sah. I'll call you if I have any furthah information."
Brownbarr disconnected the call and walked back into the hotel.
"Uh, sir?" Mothinghotch again, walking along behind Brownbarr. "Where are you going?"
"Into the hotel." Brownbarr pushed open the door and walked up to the stomach-high front desk. A young lady in blue slouched behind the counter, fiddling with a hotel pen and looking indescribably bored. Her name tag read "Florence".
"But sir, we've already been in—"
Brownbarr turned. "You do your job, Mothinghotch, and I'll do mine. Now do me a favor and shut up."
Mothinghotch pressed his lips together and didn't say another word.
Brownbarr faced the desk again. "Miss?"
Florence sat up. "Yeah?"
"I'm looking for a friend of mine. He's a bit shorter than me, with close-cropped black hair and dark eyes, probably dressed casually, with a Persian complexion. He also has a bracelet made of wood around his wrist."
"Look, grandpa," Florence said, leaning back in her chair, "I'm only takin' a summer job while my uncle's makin' moolah. I don't know this place any better than—"
"Look, miss, can you just tell me if you've seen my friend?" Brownbarr restrained his anger. It probably wouldn't do any good to rant at a spoiled teen—she'd probably just clam up.
"Maybe I have." Florence glanced at him.
With a huff, Brownbarr dug into his pocket and threw some money on the table. "Will that help jog your memory?"
"Just fine, grandpa." Florence counted up the money. "I saw your...friend. A couple days back. He left early in the morning. He was a handsome guy, so I tried talkin' to him. Couldn't get much outta him, but he said he was headin' somewhere west of EC."
"Thanks, that's all I need." Brownbarr turned and headed back out the door.
Mothinghotch walked beside Brownbarr and glanced at him. "Uh, sir, what exactly just happened?"
Brownbarr ignored Mothinghotch and called Rolvo again. "Rolvo? I've got news."
"Yes, sah?"
"We're after the AAA ringleader. The lady at the hotel desk needed a bit of cash to jog her memory, but she's seen him, and he's heading somewhere west of the European Confederation."
"On it, sah."
Brownbarr hung up.
"Sir—" Mothinghotch started.
"Mothinghotch, if you say another word, I'm going to lynch you. You'll find out what's going on soon
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