Water Dictatorship Part 11

"Help." Angelo said at the mike.

The man's gun twitched up under Angelo's nose. "None of that Detective. Besides, your partner still hasn't arrived."

Angelo sighed and raised his hands.

The man finished patting Angelo down. He was very thorough and didn't miss anything. Angelo's back-up weapons and everything of possible use was taken away. The man and woman were both wearing nylon gloves. They were cheap gloves designed to mimic leather driving gloves. The cheap suits and the cheap gloves were intended to be burned after the hit. That and a good scrub down afterward would destroy most of the forensic evidence of Angelo's death. In cases like these. evidence was not the strong suit. The people involved were the key. Crack them and you crack the case. If no one cracks, then no one pays for the murder.

Angelo's brain had split once again into two parts. The detached, clinic part of his brain was cataloging facts. These were professional hit people and he'd stumbled into their trap like a d.a.m.ned amateur. The emotional part of Angelo's brain, the part that really felt like him alternated between desperate hope and despair. Maybe something would break right. He had to stay alert and be prepared to take advantage of anything. There probably wouldn't be anything. These people were good at what they did.

After making sure that Angelo was disarmed and not transmitting, they put his personal possessions in a cheap briefcase and ushered him outside. Angelo knew that he could make enough of a scene to draw attention. Then they'd shoot him and try to slip away. They'd probably succeed, too. It's hard to catch people right off the crime scene. You had to run them down and out think them. So Angelo could exchange his life for severe inconvenience on the part of his captors. It didn't look like a good bargain.

They walked though the lobby quickly and yet blandly. More business people on the way to a meeting in some office somewhere. No one gave the a second glance. Out into the garage. An older generic BMW waited for them. It sounded bad. Probably recovered from a wrecking yard and given just enough of a work over to make it run one last time. It only had to look good enough to escape notice. Unfortunately for Angelo, L.A. was lousy with aging German sport sedans. No one noticed. They got in, the woman driving, Angelo in the front pa.s.senger seat, and the man covering from the rear seat. They drove out of the hotel and towards the freeway.

"Where's Angelo?" Captain Brown shouted.

"Don't yell at me. Where's my lawyer?" Uhura shot back.

"I don't even know if you're charged with anything yet. Just tell me where that idiot Angelo is!" Brown tried to restrain himself.

"Why should I tell you?" Uhura asked. If Angelo could trust this man he wouldn't have needed her for back up in L.A.

"Because I'm the cop around here! Investigating crimes is my job! That's why!"

"Has there been a crime committed?" Uhura asked sweetly.

"I'm not stupid, I can read a post mortem report as well as anyone. Just tell me what you and Angelo were doing here before it gets ugly!" Brown returned to yelling. He could smell a big lawsuit and a ruined murder case circling him like a buzzard.

"I don't know. The patrolmen let him go." Uhura admitted.

"d.a.m.n!" Brown cursed. He stomped out of the interrogation room. "Get me Souza and Mangar!"

The door shut. "Hey, wait!" Uhura yelled. it was too late. the interrogation room was locked from the outside.

A few minutes later, a tall man with sandy brown hair and a blond woman with a dancer's figure came in.

"Um, Ms. Young? I'm Detective Anderson, and this is Detective Franks." The man introduced.

"Pleased to meet you." Uhura said automatically.

"Is your first name Uhura?" Franks asked.

"Yes," Uhura said tiredly. "Like in Star Trek. My parents are Trekkies."

"Interesting." Franks said.

"You have a badge from the Vista City Police Department. Is that right?" Anderson asked.

"Yes. I'm with them." Uhura said.

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe you." Anderson said. "You couldn't make the height and weight requirements to be an Officer."

Uhura sighed. "Technically the badge is a courtesy. I needed it to examine computer evidence on the crime scene."

"Computer evidence?" Franks asked.

"I'm an expert in the field. I run the Vista City Police system and I also examine left over Computer records at crime scenes." Uhura said.

"What got you involved in this case?" Anderson asked. "Angelo couldn't find anyone else willing to back him up?"

"We suspect that Marlowe and Chee destroyed our system." Uhura admitted.

"Destroyed? What does that mean?" Anderson said.

Uhura told him about the anti-Geos virus that invaded the VCPD system.

"Hmp. There's vandalism." Franks said.

"Is there any concrete evidence that it was Marlowe and Chee?" Anderson asked.

"None. There's some circ.u.mstantial evidence, but..." Uhura shrugged.

"Would Judge James grant us a search warrant based on that?" Anderson asked Franks.

"Let's talk to him and see." Franks said. "It's only two in the morning."

The ride out into the desert took two and a half hours. Angelo said nothing. He considered trying to grab for the wheel of the old Beamer and swerving them off the road. It would get him shot, and then crashed, and possibly shot again if the two hit people survived the crash. It would take a serious accident at the speed they were going to accomplish the destruction necessary. Angelo tabled the idea.

He considered bailing out, but the car was moving an about sixty miles an hour. Angelo could look forward to several broken bones and possible death bailing out of the car at that speed. Then he'd be in no shape to resist when they backed over him and drove away. Another idea tabled. That one might work if there was a patrol car around, but the night was devoid of them.

They pulled off the highway halfway to Palm Springs. The high desert air was crisp and a little cool in the night. Angelo was preparing to run for it when he was escorted out of the car. There was a black SUV there. These vehicles were so generic that Angelo couldn't tell which make it was. John Marlowe and Shane Chee got out of the SUV and walked forwards to meet them.

"Angelo." Marlowe said. "You finally have my undivided attention. What did Randi leave for you in her safe deposit box?"

"She left me a complete copy of Shane's virus." Angelo said. "And enough notes to reconstruct your plan."

"Reconstruct it on what?" Chee smirked.

"Uh huh, and what did you do with this evidence?" Marlowe asked.

"It's safe." Angelo breezed. He sobered. "I guess that's what Randi thought, too, isn't it?"

Marlowe shook his head. "Soon that won't matter to you. There's billions of dollars at stake and we're too close to launch to let you or anyone derail it."

"I guess that means job security for you two, huh?" Angelo said to the bland woman. She looked back with cold eyes. She probably didn't even hear what Angelo said. He was just meat.

"I'll make you a deal, Angelo. Possibly your last one." Marlowe said. "Turn Randi's disks and all evidence over to me and walk away. In return I'll let you live."

Angelo looked Marlowe in the face. He was signing his death warrant and he knew it, but he couldn't let it go. "Someone has to pay for Randi's death."

"Oh, what the h.e.l.l does it matter now?" Marlowe barked. "Buy a clue. She dumped you fifteen years ago. What's she going to do now, take you back Angelo? Say 'I'm proud of you'? She wanted to drown in money but couldn't handle getting her hands dirty to get it. Is that who you're going to die for, really? Is that what your life's worth?"