The Agent Gambit by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee

Salene, included a holo, which was duly copied and sent around to cops, firefighters, and disaster crews present at the "fire" at the Mixla Arms.
    Sergeant McCulloh stepped forward immediately. "Yeah," she told Pete, "I seen him. Redhead kid, him, an' four turtles all left together." She corrugated her forehead in an effort to aid memory. "Said his name was something-or-nother-yos-something. Geek name. Dunno hers. 'Nother geek. Talkin' Trade with the turtles-something about all traveling together for a couple days . . . ." She shrugged broad shoulders. "I'm real sorry, Mr. Smith. Coulda kept the whole bunch right then, if I'd known."
    "That's all right, Sergeant," the Chief of Police said, forestalling Pete's frustrated growl. "Now, did you overhear anything that might have indicated where they were going?"
    The sergeant shook her massive head. "Nossir. Only that they should all go together."
    "Well," the chief said, "that's quite a bit of help, actually. Four turtles and two humans traveling together? They'll be easy to spot." He smiled at his subordinate. "That will be all, Sergeant. Thank you for coming forward with that information. You've been very helpful."
    "Yessir. Thank you, sir. Thank you, Mr. Smith." The sergeant whirled on her heel and marched out of the room, shutting the door crisply behind her.
    "Great," Pete swore. "All we got to do, I guess, is put out an all-points on four turtles and two geeks and wait till we get a report."
    "Actually," the chief said, leaning back in his chair, "that's close. We send out a picture and a note to report any combination of turtle and human. Instructions to observe and report to Mixla Headquarters. Under no circumstances are they to be taken."
    "What!" Pete stopped in mid-pace, staring at the other man.
    The chief shook his head. "Think about it. The boy's inventive-got himself a nice little diversion there: limited property damage, no risk to life-and if he's linked to the O'Grady incident, like you think, he's probably a tad dangerous." He propped his foot up on the desk top.
    "Turtles occupy a very ticklish diplomatic niche. We can't afford to make them mad. And they will be mad, if they count the boy as a friend and some poor joke of a cop comes to arrest him." He shook his head. "The girl's an unknown, but it's a good idea to assume she's as dangerous as the boy-and the turtles are her friends, too."
    Pete blinked thoughtfully. "So we wait till they're spotted and nailed, then hit 'em with everything we got so fast the turtles got no time to yell 'ho!' We can say 'sorry' later."
    The chief nodded. "Exactly."

    "Flawed blades." Edger was saying when Miri entered the room in the early evening. "And only flawed blades, my brothers! All that we have now-warehoused, do you recall, Sheather? Nearest the river?-and all that thrice-accursed cavern can spawn! Who could have imagined such a thing?"
    "What use can any being have for flawed knives?" Handler asked, squinting his eyes in puzzlement.
    "Ah, they are to be given to certain special individuals in the organization of this Justin Hostro. These individuals are entrusted with tasks having much to do with the honor and integrity of the organization. It is Justin Hostro's thought that a blade used for such a purpose need be used for that purpose alone and never for any other. More, it should be a weapon of impeccable crafting, that it not fail during the task itself.
    "These knives fit the criteria Justin Hostro has set down most admirably, is it not so, brother?" This last was directed to Selector, who inclined his head.
    "It is, indeed, as if the Cavern of Flawed Blades were created and discovered only for this bargain we have struck with Justin Hostro."
    Val Con, perched on the arm of a chair set a little apart from the circle of Clutch members, grinned at the undercurrent of venom in that comment and glanced up as Miri's door sighed open.
    She was dressed in a dark blue gown that sheathed her like a second skin in some