Freedom Incorporated - Peter Tylee (best biographies to read TXT) 📗

much smaller employee base and fewer reasons to keep staff working on the weekend. They dealt with apprehensions and kept the clockwork of sanctions oiled, but those logistics were nothing compared to PortaNet’s daunting daily regime.

Esteban’s door was closed. He tapped a polite rhythm with his knuckles and waited patiently for a response. Nothing happened. He knocked again before turning the handle and entering. One step into the room, he found the barrel of a gun pressed firmly to his temple.

“Jezus fucking Christ!” Esteban breathed an exasperated sigh of relief. “What the hell are you doing? I could’ve killed you.”

A shiver of panic resonated through Adrian’s body. He’d hoped Esteban would be elsewhere and thought it was cruel for fate to allow his hopes soar only to dash them on the rocks a few seconds later. “Don’t point that thing at me.” He gently brushed the barrel of Esteban’s weapon aside. “What’s got you so nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” Esteban snapped. “I’m just being cautious. Sutherland’s removed his chip so we won’t know when he leaves Australia.”

“Which means you think he’s here already.” Adrian nodded understanding.

“Maybe.” Esteban clicked the safety on his weapon. “I know he’s using Tedman Kennedy as an alias. Do you have any idea how many Tedman Kennedy’s there are?”

“Lots?”

“The Kennedy’s are prolific and seem to have a genetic predisposition for the name Tedman. There are too damn many to keep track of, and besides, if he has one false identify he may have more.”

“Fantastic,” Adrian drawled, scanning the room and trying to look natural despite his racing heart. “So the Guild is the safest place to be then?”

Esteban nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to wait for him here; he’ll come eventually. What the jolly-fuck are you doing here anyway? I told you never to come to my office.”

Adrian’s prefabricated excuse sounded weak under the circumstances. “We hadn’t heard from you for ages and wanted to make sure everything was okay.” Another shimmer of panic passed behind his eyes, temporarily blurring his vision. With the mounting time pressure, he’d forgotten to manipulate Junior into corroborating the story. Now, if Esteban became suspicious and talked to Junior, he’d discover Adrian had been missing for two hours already. “And we needed beer. We’re out.” He shrugged. “Under the circumstances it seemed safer to get it from here rather than Liquor-Time.”

“God, Adrian.” Esteban pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sometimes you’re even stupider than Junior.” Esteban had never looked more exasperated. “Don’t you understand what’s going on here?” He lowered his voice until it was barely above a growling whisper. “You kidnapped a bounty hunter’s girlfriend and he bloody well wants her back.” He grudgingly agreed that Dan was good at what he did. “And he’s not one of those weekend-troopers either, this guy’s for real. Now get your arse back to the Guild and stay there until it’s all over. I’ll be back with Sutherland in tow as soon as I can, okay?”

Adrian nodded meekly and stepped further into Esteban’s opulent office. “I’ll just grab a couple of buds and be on my way. You want one?”

Thirst licked Esteban’s mind but he overcame the weakness. “No, I’ll celebrate later.”

“Suit yourself.” Adrian strode to Esteban’s bar fridge and yanked the door roughly open. He squatted, using his body to block Esteban’s view while a fire rippled from his adrenaline glands. It tingled in every fibre of muscle and boiled the acid in his stomach. He knew about Esteban’s secret compartment and hoped that was where he’d stashed Jen’s chip selector. But first, the beer. He had to work as inconspicuously as he could and lined seven beer cans along the bench before tampering with the compartment. Veins of ice and frost had crystallised over the false plastic wall in the freezer, making it difficult to open. “You got any ice?” Adrian asked to cover his dash for the concealed latch. It wasn’t a safe. Esteban didn’t believe in safes. He kept repeating how easy they were to crack and how thieves could find them with a simple metal detector. But he did believe in keeping things hidden and used his refrigerator as an effective office tool as well as the perfect vessel for chilling his beer.

A stalactite of ice splintered with a crackle when he tugged on the plastic door. He’d only seen Esteban use the compartment once and had no idea whether he had more hidden caches. Maybe he retired this one. Maybe he uses them on a rotating roster. Should there be this much ice if he used it recently? Still, it was worth a try. He yanked harder, veiling the sound of grating ice behind a rough thump of the next beer can on the bench. More adrenaline gushed through his arteries when he saw what Esteban had hidden inside: phials of something clear, liquid despite the temperature, and Jen’s chip selector. White frost covered the hard black plastic and Adrian wondered whether microchips were sensitive to cold. What if it doesn’t work anymore? What if the inside wires have snapped? They were disturbing thoughts. All his efforts could be for naught. Engineers had designed microchips to survive in a moist 37 degrees Celsius, not in a freezer.

He discreetly slipped it into his pocket and took a beer in each hand before closing the fridge with his feet. He’d reduced Esteban’s stock to five. But Esteban, who was busy guarding the door, hadn’t paid a scintilla of attention to Adrian or to his beer.

“Now, how am I going to carry these?” Adrian asked, genuinely seeking input.

“Ten?” Esteban exclaimed when he finally turned around.

“Yeah, five for me, five for Junior. It’s Saturday, what’d you expect?” In times past they’d consumed up to twelve, and once Adrian drank twenty, though he had no recollection of the event.

“All right.” Esteban snivelled. “Just get back to the Guild and stay there. If I haven’t bagged Sutherland before midday tomorrow I’ll come back anyway.”

“Fair enough,” Adrian agreed, slotting a can of beer into every pocket large enough to carry one. That still left him with four beers too many. “Don’t you have a bag or something?”

“No,” Esteban said, thinking of a more elegant solution. “Take off your jumper and carry them in that.”

Adrian shook his head. “I’m not taking off my jumper.” It was fine, hand-knitted wool and four beer cans coupled with a rough knot would stretch it out of shape. Adrian was too compulsive to allow that to happen.

“Then don’t take the beers.”

He sighed. “Okay, fine.” He carried an extra beer in each hand and tucked one under each arm, feeling like a hunched-over monkey. “I’ll see you back in the Guild, hopefully with Sutherland.”

Esteban set his teeth into a mean grimace. “Count on it.”

A bead of sweat was streaking down Adrian’s temple by the time he left Esteban’s office. It’d been a tense five minutes, every second a small miracle that Esteban hadn’t noticed what he was doing. The chip selector was digging into his thigh, wedged uncomfortably on the other side of a beer can. His fingers were numb and he was agitating the cans; he hated to imagine what would happen if he tried to open one. A sticky froth shower. The image sent shivers down his spine and he felt compelled to adjust his glasses. He tried to ignore it but the intensity only grew until he had to set two cans on the ground to push his spectacles back onto the bridge of his nose.

He couldn’t believe he’d finally plucked enough courage to cross Esteban. Man, he’s going to be pissed when he finds out. It was an intimidating thought. Adrian had a touch of obsessive-compulsive disorder but he definitely wasn’t stupid. I’ll have to disappear. He knew Jen would scream to whoever would listen as soon as she was free, and that type of publicity could spell the end of the Guild. Or, at the very least, it would mean doom for several members, himself included. The possibilities of where to go seemed boundless. Asia? South America? He’d scratched Africa from his list. He had to draw the line somewhere and refused to live in a place that didn’t have adequate portal facilities.

So much to do, so little time. He wanted to pack a few personal things. Which means I’ll have to visit Cincinnati, briefly. He was jotting a mental list of the arrangements he still had to make as he returned to the portals. The more he thought, the more extensive his list became. And I only have an hour left…

*

Dan shook his head. “No.”

“Afraid so,” Cookie confirmed for the fourth time.

“You must be kidding.” Dan closed his eyes in resignation.

“I don’t know how else to put it man.” Cookie paused. “What’re you going to do?”

Dan looked up at the sun, enjoying the scant rays that filtered through the atmosphere. When he thought about the task ahead, he suspected it would be his last opportunity to bask. “I’m going in to get him.”

“But if he’s there-”

“I know,” Dan snapped, cutting him off. “It means they’re both there, and possibly all three of them - not to mention UniForce security and anybody else Esteban has recruited to make my life difficult.”

“Maybe you could…” Cookie didn’t know. He wished he could see another way out.

“I doubt it,” Dan said to fill the silence. “If that’s where they want to play, that’s where we’ll play.” He barred his teeth and summoned his determination. “Into the lion’s den it is.”

“Good luck man.” It was the only thing left to say.

“Thanks Cookie.” I’ll need it. “I’ll” - hopefully - “be in touch later.” He hung up before Cookie could dribble more doubt into the digital data stream. Okay, so now I know. He had positive confirmation that Adrian Miller was in UniForce headquarters. Or his mobile phone is anyway. He didn’t want to waste time by waiting them out. Either they’d stay where they were until Dan agreed to a showdown, or they’d leave, in which case he’d lose them again.

He was near a portal station and jogged the final hundred metres, eager to proceed now that he’d made up his mind on a course of action. Standing in the portal tube, he punched in the familiar number and his vision shifted into something he recognised: the UniForce lobby.

He was playing an extremely dangerous game, particularly since it was the weekend. Fewer visitors meant UniForce security would watch new arrivals like a hawk. His only consolation was that it’d be easier than his incursion the previous night - this time he knew where he was going.

What am I doing? Too many UniForce employees recognised him to make anonymity an option. He calmly walked to the toilets and bottled himself into the first stall, sitting on the edge of the plastic seat to ponder his next move. They’ll be in Esteban’s office if they’re anywhere. He chewed absently on his lip. And they’ll have a good idea that I’m coming… though they don’t know I’m Tedman Kennedy so they won’t know I’m in the building. Yet. He knew it was possible to slip around without people noticing, he’d done it before - not in UniForce and not for over a decade, but it was possible. Complete perforation of the building with portals helped, nobody used the stairs anymore so they were likely deserted.

Then a piercing thought fuelled his lust for success: What if Jen’s upstairs too? It was unlikely. But wouldn’t that make it the perfect place to hide her? He couldn’t take a portal upstairs; he’d been lucky to reach the lobby. UniForce scanned for unauthorised microchips and barred access to restricted areas for people that shouldn’t be there. The public couldn’t access most