Kathy Tatopoulos hated using the main parking garage. The ceiling was filthy, the spaces were too small and some of the darker corners smelled suspiciously like urine. The building staff insisted it was just the wholesale cleaning products used to keep the vast concrete tomb sanitary, but Tatopoulos had her doubts. Budget cutbacks across the city had left the civil service with an ever-decreasing staff of disgruntled workers with shrinking pension funds and full bladders.
The DA's hard soles clapped loudly on the painted concrete as she strode through the echoing space. She passed by row after row of empty bays, her tall form casting no shadow in the hard light that washed through the garage from all directions, shining from plastic sconces in every pillar. Her car was at the far side of the garage, not far from a goods ramp that was at present closed off by a heavy metal shutter. That would be her exit, bringing her out from beneath a neighbouring building (an inconspicuous office block), thus allowing her to avoid the rabble that had gathered outside.
Tatopoulos sighed with frustration as she fished through her purse for her keys. It wasn't that she didn't understand the reasons for the protests. She had seen enough of the suffering caused by the financial crisis to sympathise with the angry gathering that picketed the building's front entrance. What frustrated her was that, for the most part, the people outside had scant understanding of the forces that were driving Mars's economic downturn. Most of what they thought they knew was based on narrow personal experience and anecdotal evidence. And their ideas for how the downturn should be dealt with were based on even less. The DA had heard outcry over everything from government conspiracies to corrupt banks, immigration from Earth to alien invasion. And the worst part was that, were she to explain the prime catalyst for the downturn, it would only serve to bring more grief upon her and her already overstretched office. She was taking steps to fix things, to set things right as best she could, but she was playing a dangerous game in doing so. Not that there was much new in that.
Tatopoulos had snagged the elusive keyring on a finger when the squeak of a shoe on the parking lot floor caused her to freeze. She looked up to see a large figure, made larger still by a cavernous black jacket, emerge from behind a pillar ahead of her.
"Kathryn Tatopoulos?" asked the stranger. The voice was low and husky, but unmistakably female. She tapped at the peak of a leather cap with her right hand as she spoke - a nervous gesture, an unconscious demonstration that the hand was empty and its owner, therefore, intended no threat.
Tatopoulos clipped her bag shut and answered, "That's me." She stood and waited for the second one to emerge.
"Sorry to trouble you at home time, Kathy," said a second voice, also deep and female, but much smoother than the first. A tall, slender woman in a short dress stepped out into the open from a pillar to Tatopoulos' right, pretty much where she'd expected. "But we'd like a little chat." The woman spoke with a mocking familiarity. She had an impressive afro hairstyle and, somewhat ridiculously, was wearing a pair of bug-eye shades despite being indoors, and the sun having long since set outside. Appearances, it seemed, were everything with this one, though there was also a simmering tension there. This woman wasn't here to fight, but that could all change in a second if need be.
"I'm sorry ladies," said Tatopoulos, adjusting her purse at her side. "If you want to arrange a meeting, then you'll have to call my office between the hours of eight and five thirty." She started towards her car again, passing between the women without making eye contact. "Or you can book online, though I must warn you, you're looking at a bit of a wait."
"No kidding," said Shades. "We saw the line outside. Decided we wanted to jump the queue."
"It'll only take a few minutes of your time," said Leather Cap in a conciliatory tone. The dynamic between these two was becoming quite clear, as were a number of other things.
"Again, I'm sorry but that just won't be possible," said Tatopoulos. "Even if I weren't clocking off for the day, I couldn't be seen to play favourites. Not even for two of our system's fine bounty hunters." She stopped and glanced over her shoulder. The looks on their faces were priceless.
"That obvious, huh?" sighed Leather Cap.
"I'm afraid so," said Tatopoulos, turning a little toward her addresser. "Bounty hunters are the only people in the system with such… kitsch dress sense."
Shades lowered her glasses. "Excuse me?"
Tatopoulos let out a long sigh. She turned fully to face the bounty hunters, deliberately relaxing her posture as she did. "I think I can guess what this is about," she said, trying to sound as sympathetic as she could. "You caught some bounty head or other, dragged him down to a station, only to find the bounty had been lifted. Now you're here to find out why 'The Man' won't pony up. Am I close?"
Shades pushed her glasses higher on her nose. Leather cap shifted uncomfortably. "Something like that," said the latter.
"Well, believe it or not, you're not the first bounty hunters to have that idea," said the DA, truthfully. "And you probably won't be the last. Listen, I'm not going to insult your intelligence by telling you that it's beyond my control. What I will tell you - and this is the exact same thing I've said to the cowboys who've preceded you, and it's what I'll say to those that follow - is that it's necessary." Leather Cap frowned, while Shades clucked in disgust. "Hey, I don't like it either. The Force is overstretched as it is, but it's either cut back on bounties or cut back on staff. That's the choice the Department has been given." The pair had nothing to say to that. "Well, it's been a pleasure, ladies." Tatopoulos turned and began walking slowly towards her car. "So, if there's nothing else-"
"I got a question," called Shades.
Tatopoulos stopped, let her head drop with exasperation, then glanced back. "Yes?"
Shades shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Who is Tiamat?"
For a moment, Tatopoulos thought she might have misheard. She wanted a moment to process the question but dared not let the silence stretch. She turned back to face the bounty hunters, being careful to keep her expression neutral. "Where did you hear that name?" she asked calmly.
"That ain't an answer, Kathy," said Shades, belligerently.
The few seconds Shades had spent speaking had allowed Tatopoulos to register the expression of her partner. She looked even more surprised than the DA felt.
Interesting.
Tatopoulos considered for as long as she felt she could afford before reaching a decision. "I think maybe we should continue this discussion in my office," she said. She strode back the way she'd come, passing between the bounty hunters once more. "This way, ladies."
"Uh, okay," said Leather Cap, as she passed. She and her partner fell in behind.
Kathryn Tatopoulos was playing a dangerous game. A couple of extra pieces on the board could make all the difference.
ooo
Tatopoulos's office was a much more spartan affair than VT had expected. Although, she hadn't really known what to expect. In any case, the modesty of the plain white room, lined on two sides with filing cabinets and with a grey, plastic desk stood at its heart seemed incongruous with the status of its occupant. The district attorney sat at her desk, framed by a window that spanned the back wall of the office and opened out onto the grand vista of Alva City's darkening skyline - a view that was perhaps the only luxury in this bland little box of an office. She regarded VT and Coffee over steepled fingers that hid her mouth, her dark eyes intent beneath tightly knitted brows. VT shifted uncomfortably under the DA's inscrutable gaze. "Nice office you got here," she said, just for something to say.
Tatopoulos didn't reply, though VT thought she might have nodded very slightly. The woman's eyes remained locked, almost unblinking upon the trucker and the bounty hunter.
Coffee, for her part, looked relaxed. She lounged casually on an angular office chair, her lithe form flowing over the lines of steel and plastic as if they had been sculpted to her fit. Damn it all if that woman couldn't look comfortable just about anywhere.
VT shuffled her backside again. The back of her chair was hard and the seat a little too small. The latter dug in places where things shouldn't be digging into a lady. It was probably intentional, a way for Kathy to keep visitors to her office on edge, to help her maintain the upper hand. Despite the discomfort, the chair was a welcome relief after the marathon stair climb from the basement. Tatopoulos had insisted on taking a set of service stairs to her floor, presumably because it would get them past security without her having to explain the whos-n-whys of her guests. One swipe card and sixteen flights of stairs later, the three women were sitting in the DA's office, sharing a delightfully uncomfortable silence.
VT cleared her throat. The silence continued.
It was Coffee who finally kick started a conversation. "Listen Kathy," she said, examining the nails of her right hand. The focus of Tatopoulos's eyes shifted almost imperceptibly to the bounty hunter. "It was real nice of you to invite us up here and all, but my associate and I came here to talk, not to get the glad eye from an overpaid public servant." She lowered her hand and met the DA's gaze. "Now if you recall, I asked you a question." She leaned forward, one forearm resting on the back of her chair, the other on her lap. "Who is Tiamat?"
For a few seconds Tatopoulos didn't move. She just held Coffee's glare, her expression - or what was visible of it - unchanging. Then she leaned back in her chair - an ergonomic number that creaked as she shifted her weight - and pulled back her arms so that they settled on the armrests. The action revealed strong cheek bones, an aquiline nose and an expressive mouth set into a tense line. A severe ponytail fell in tight curls that rested on the shoulder of an expensive suit. The DA was what Ural would have called 'a handsome woman'.
Strange. It had been a long time since VT had thought about her late husband's wandering eye. She was surprised to find herself suppressing a smile at the thought of all those playful digs in the arm she'd given him when she'd caught him sneaking a glance at some woman or other. Of course, Ural must have known his wife would be watching, in fact VT was pretty sure he waited until she was watching before turning his head. Just another one of their silly games.
The DA's voice pulled VT back from her reminiscing. "Where did you hear that name?" she asked, almost without inflection.
"Ah ah ah," said Coffee, wagging a finger. "I asked first."
"And I asked last," the DA replied coolly. "Where did you hear the name Tiamat?"
VT had to admit, she was rather curious about that herself. It seemed she was the only person in the room who didn't know what was going on, and she didn't like it. Though she knew better than to show it.
"Kathy, I'm disappointed," said Coffee, theatrically. "You've been such a gracious host up to now."
Tatopoulos inhaled and exhaled audibly through her nose. It was the first sign of irritation - or any emotion, in fact - that she'd betrayed since sitting at her desk. She looked a lot closer to throwing Coffee and VT out than answering the bounty hunter's question.
"Listen," VT said. "We've obviously each got information the other wants. Why don't we agree to a trade. Kath- uh, Ms. Tatopoulos, we'll tell you what we've got, and then you answer our questions. Sound fair?"
Tatopoulos regarded the trucker for a long moment, her face motionless. It was like watching a computer screen displaying a 'Please wait' message while the CPU crunched numbers. Eventually the DA tilted her head and spread her hands to indicate her ascent.
"Great." VT turned to her associate. "Coffee, why don't you tell the DA here what we know."
Coffee looked like she might argue, but the pointed tone of VT's prompt and the expression that accompanied it invited no argument. The bounty hunter was left in no doubt as to just how pleased VT was at being kept in the dark. "Sure," said Coffee, shrugging as if this was what she'd planned all along. She turned back to the DA. "It was Cho. Y'know, the bounty head you stiffed us on?"
VT grimaced slightly at Coffee's words, but Tatopoulos appeared unmoved. "Cho Min-soo," said the DA.
"You know the guy?" said VT, surprised that the DA had called up the name so quickly.
"Low-level syndicate enforcer," said Tatopoulos. "Little more than an errand boy, really. He was one of the bounties that was downgraded just yesterday. I heard there'd been a claim on him." How brows knitted with what could have been mistaken for sympathy. "You ladies must have missed out on the bounty by a matter of hours."
"Yeah," said Coffee, her otherwise smooth manner edged with bitterness. "'Tiamat' was the last word outta your boy Cho's mouth before he went to the big safe house in the sky."
VT guessed Coffee had somehow patched into the comms on Cho's ship at some point. Maybe as a means of gathering intel or tracking the man's movements. Either way, it had given the bounty hunter front row seats to Cho's dying words.
"I see," Tatopoulos said at length.
"That's all we got," said Coffee. "Now it's your turn."
Tatopoulos appeared to go back into thinking mode as she processed the information. VT feared she might consider Coffee's anaemic intelligence unworthy of reciprocation or might just take it for an outright lie. Just as it seemed Coffee might protest the DA's silence, the woman spoke, "I take it you are aware of the collapse of the Red Dragon syndicate last year."
Coffee snorted. "Yeah, I'm aware," she said. "It's not exactly top secret. Nut jobs damn near burned down a whole city block. It was all over the news for weeks."
Tatopoulos's eyebrow twitched in another minute tell of annoyance. "Yes, it was," she said evenly. "But believe it or not, mob wars are about more than just guns and explosions."
"Tell that to the poor slobs who got caught in the crossfire," said Coffee.
VT decided now was the time to step in, before Coffee could scupper all their good work with her pointlessly adversarial behaviour. "We know that syndicate politics can be pretty complicated," she said carefully. "But you gotta admit, the fall of the Reds is common knowledge."
"True," said Tatopoulos. "But what's less well known is that the collapse came about as a result of a power play, new guard against old."
VT couldn't keep her eyebrows from hopping up. She'd always just assumed that it had been some kind of self-destructive turf war that had precipitated the fall of the system's biggest syndicate, along with its closest rivals.
Coffee seemed less impressed. "Yeah, yeah. Young bloods turn on the old guys. Attempt to take over the outfit while at the same time eliminating the top brass of rival syndicates. We've all heard the rumours."
VT hadn't. She'd had little idea that this civil war had taken place, and even less that it had coincided with a purge of the Red Dragons' rivals. That would certainly explain why there'd been no high-profile gang wars in the aftermath of the coup; there was no one left to fill the power vacuum.
VT really had been out of the loop for a long time.
"Fair enough," said Tatopoulos. "Well, the upshot is that syndicate activity in the system, on Mars in particular, all but ceased in the aftermath of the civil war. The leaders, old and new were gone, the remnants of the organisation scattered to the wind." She paused. "I think you can see where I'm going with this."
"A new leader," said VT.
"Or leaders," said Tatopoulos. "But yes, we believe that the Red Dragon syndicate is rebuilding in secret, and that this Tiamat is the driving force behind the resurgence."
Coffee cocked an eyebrow. "So, what. The syndicates make a comeback, and you decide that's a good time to start cancelling bounties? Smooth move, Ms. DA."
Tatopoulos brow furrowed. "You have to understand," she said, but stopped short of finishing the thought.
"Understand what?" asked Coffee.
The DA didn't answer immediately. She stared at the surface of her desk, perhaps considering carefully what she was about to say, or whether she should even say it at all. When she did speak, her voice was quiet, and carried a hint of defeat. "The impact of the Red Dragon collapse runs deeper than just a few gutted buildings," she said. Tatopoulos stood slowly, wearily, stepped from behind her desk and turned to face the window. "Most people don't realise just how much of the Martian economy is… was, propped up by syndicate money." Night was falling outside. In the harsh light of the office, it seemed almost as if the DA were addressing her own reflection. "When the Red Dragon syndicate fell, a chunk of the planet's economy - the system's economy - went with it."
"The economic downturn," VT muttered. "You're saying the fall of the syndicates-"
"No," the DA cut in. "The fall of the syndicates didn't cause the recession. We'd already been on thin ice for a while. But when the syndicates did collapse… well, it was one crack too many." She lowered her gaze to the street below, to where the protesters were no doubt settling in for their night's vigil. "Companies collapsed, services were cut, jobs were lost. And all the while the police and judiciary were dealing with an increasingly restless population, and while at the same time having to adjust to ever shrinking resources."
"Rock and a hard place," said VT. She suddenly felt rather silly for fretting over the cost of a new antenna.
"Something to that effect," said Tatopoulos. She turned away from the window and returned to her chair.
"That's a real heart breaker," said Coffee, sounding not the least bit heartbroken. "But if you know so much about this Tiamat and her plans, then why not hit 'em now, before they have a chance to consolidate?"
Tatopoulos glared at Coffee as she lowered herself into her chair. "What part of shrinking resources was unclear to you?"
"The part where you waste time and manpower babysitting those placard jockeys out there when you should be dealing with the real threat. I'm pretty sure your bosses would understand if you diverted resources to dealing with this Tiamat character."
Tatopoulos expression hardened. She looked like she wanted to slap the bounty hunter down but hadn't the right words to do it. It was that moment of hesitation that brought VT to a sudden realisation.
"They don't know," she said. The eyes of the other two women snapped to her. "The Mars government don't know about Tiamat, and they don't know that you've been monitoring the syndicate revival." It explained why Tatopoulos had been careful to bring VT and Coffee to her office with the minimum of witnesses, and more to the point, why she might be looking for allies, in even the most unlikely of places.
"No," said Tatopoulos. "They do not. Or at least, the majority don't know."
"And the ones who do…" VT shook her head. "Geez."
Tatopoulos leaned forward and steepled her fingers once more. She didn't speak again until her lips were hidden. "I wish I could tell you that corruption was a new phenomenon within the Martian administration."
"Corrupt politicians?" said Coffee, her voice heavy with irony. "Kathy honey, you are just full of revelations."
"Who else knows?" VT asked.
"Not many," said Tatopoulos. "A few trusted colleagues in the Judiciary, a few among the police. You'll understand if I don't name names. I assume I can rely on your discretion."
"Of course," said VT seriously. She had no desire to get dragged any deeper into this.
"Well, I ain't promising anything," said Coffee, apparently unheeding or unaware of the gravity of the information to which she was being made privy. "Not unless it's worth my while."
"Typical bounty hunter," muttered the DA. "I can assure you that keeping this meeting to yourself would be very much in your own best interests."
Coffee tensed. "Is that a threat?"
Tatopoulos rolled her eyes and leaned back. "You do realise that word will already have got around that Cho Min-soo was apprehended by bounty hunters? If you're lucky, Tiamat and their allies will assume Cho died before he could give up any information. But either way, you'll be on their radar now. Your best defence at this point will be discretion."
Coffee glared at Tatopoulos, then sank moodily back into her chair. "Fine," she said. "But there'd better be something in this for us."
"That's fair enough," said VT to Tatopoulos, counterbalancing Coffee's surliness. "But if all you wanted was our discretion, then I'm pretty sure we wouldn't be up here."
"True," said Tatopoulos. "As I said previously, it would be… difficult for me to move against Tiamat as things stand. But if I could gather enough information on their activities, then maybe I could persuade my superiors to divert the resources I'll need to bring them down."
"And what about your crooked friends at City Hall?" asked Coffee.
"If we can gather enough information to justify and organise a move, I doubt my friends would object. In my experience, those kinds of people are only interested in being on the winning team. They won't stand in the way if it means they get dragged down with the syndicate."
VT shifted in her seat again, her discomfort as much to do with talk of syndicates and corruption and being 'dragged down' as it was to do with the chair. Although the chair was playing its part. "Listen," she said. "I understand the position you're in, and I sympathise. Seriously, I do. But… we can't get involved in this." Out of the corner of her eye, VT saw Coffee tense. She pushed on regardless. "It's too big. Too dangerous." She let her head drop back and gave a bitter little chuckle. "Damn it, this was supposed to be one bounty. Pocket change."
"Oh no, you ain't backing out on me now," said Coffee in a warning tone.
"Damn it, Coffee!" VT snapped. "I was never in it to begin with. Not with syndicates and corrupt governments and God damned mystery mob bosses. And when, exactly, were you planning on telling me about that, anyway?" She sighed and sank forward to rest her forearms on her lap. "All I wanted was the money to fix my ship," she said quietly.
"My heart bleeds," said Coffee. "But like it or not, you're in now."
VT ground her teeth. Why in the hell was Coffee so intent on driving full throttle into this shit storm? The trucker was about to ask as much when the DA intervened. "I'm sorry," she said, "but your friend is right." Tatopoulos was sitting calmly, her hands clasped on top of her desk. She looked unfazed by the altercation.
"If it's my discretion you're worried about, then I already told you I-"
"No," said Tatopoulos. "It's more than that. Like it or not, you're a part of this now. You have been ever since you set foot on that station with Cho's corpse in your custody."
VT cast a resentful glance in Coffee's direction. The bounty hunter glared back at her.
"They know you now," the DA went on. "Maybe even by name. At the very least they'll have faces and ship configurations. At this point, it would be in your own best interest to see this matter through to its conclusion."
VT let out a bark of frustration. She leaned back in her chair, took off her cap and rubbed at her head with the same hand. "Some damned vacation this is turning out to be," she said through gritted teeth.
"For what it's worth," said Tatopoulos, "I am sorry." Her words seemed sincere enough.
"Yeah, we're all real sorry," said Coffee, hers sounding less so. "So, what now?"
Tatopoulos leaned back in her chair. "Now, we gather intelligence." She regarded Coffee and VT for a moment. "Are either of you familiar with a man named Constantin Kolarov?"
VT knew exactly who Kolarov was. She said nothing.
Coffee cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe," she said, "Maybe not." It was a real struggle for VT not to roll her eyes.
"As bounty hunters, I'd have thought you might be," said Tatopoulos, more likely playing along with Coffee's mummery than fooled by it. "He's an informant. A former mob enforcer for the Red Dragons."
Coffee shrugged. "I ain't been working Mars long," she said.
"I see," said the DA. "Well, as I said, he was an enforcer and an informant. He's also a greedy, paranoid coward who was playing both sides of the argument for his own gain until the whole thing went to hell. As soon as the syndicate collapsed, he vanished, presumably for his own safety."
"Sounds like a real hero," said Coffee.
"Kolarov is filth of the worst kind," Tatopoulos allowed. "But he's also smart, at least by the standards of those that operated at his level of the syndicate. He values information, and I'm certain he took a lot of very valuable intel with him when he went to ground."
"So, why not bring this Kolarov character in?" asked Coffee. "I'm sure a big, scary lady like you could persuade him to share and share alike."
Tatopoulos fixed Coffee with a level gaze. Her face was still, but VT could sense the wheels turning as she searched for the correct - or perhaps the most politic - words.
The silence lengthened. VT decided it was time to move things along, albeit very carefully, before Coffee lost her patience. "It's because he won't talk to you, even if it means prison time," said VT. The DA turned to her, and suddenly VT felt very exposed. Careful to maintain a casual tone, she went on, "It's pretty likely that Kolarov knows about Tiamat, or at least that the Reds are making a comeback. He's worried. There'll be a lot of people in the new set up who'll want a stern word with their old enforcer. He won't talk to the police because there are too many cops in Tiamat's back pocket, but he might just talk to a nice, unaligned bounty hunter. That sound about right?"
"Near enough," said the DA. "Kolarov's main source of income is information, and right now bounty hunters are about the only people it's safe for him to do business with."
"If it's so dangerous for him on Mars, then why doesn't he just leave?" asked VT. Again, VT had an inkling as to why, but it didn't hurt to feign a little ignorance.
"Kolarov won't leave Mars because he's too tight fisted to ditch his assets," said Tatopoulos. "And trying to move them would draw too much attention." She shrugged. "Greedy, paranoid coward."
"Well, his business has gotta be on the ropes," said Coffee. "If those bounties keep getting cancelled there aren't gonna be any bounty hunters left for him to do business with."
"She's right," said VT. Ignoring the surprised glance Coffee threw her way, she went on, "If you keep squeezing his wallet, he's bound to come to you eventually, probably asking for some kind of reward or protection, or both. Why not just wait him out?"
A car horn blared outside, sounding sharp and loud in the night before shrinking into the distance - a driver showing his support for the protesters, VT figured.
"Time constraints," said the DA.
VT frowned. "You expecting Tiamat to make some kind of move soon?"
"Maybe," said Tatopoulos. "In all honesty, I don't know. But if we wait much longer-"
"There'll not be much of a police force left to deal with whatever this Tiamat character's got planned," said Coffee, her tone suddenly grim.
Tatopoulos spread her hands as if to say 'there it is'.
There was a long silence. VT sat back and let out a long, slow breath. A couple of days ago she'd been contemplating a lazy fishing trip on Ha Long Bay, now she was sitting in the office of the Alva City District Attorney, discussing a possible syndicate uprising and how she might be able to help stop it. Damn it, she knew taking a vacation was a bad idea!
"Alright," said Coffee. "We'll find your boy, Kolarov."
VT cringed inwardly at the sound of the word 'we', but she didn't protest. That could wait until they were in private.
"Good," said Tatopoulos. Her tone was neutral, as if they'd just finished haggling over a bag of apples, rather than plotting a gambit to prevent a planet-wide gang war.
"But we get paid," Coffee put in hastily. "This service doesn't come free."
"Understood." The DA sounded neither surprised nor fazed by the bounty hunter's mercenary attitude in the face of global peril. She pondered a moment. "The price of Cho's bounty, plus what you lost in salvage for his ship."
"And expenses," said Coffee.
"Fine."
"Up front."
"No," said Tatopoulos. Something in the set of the DA's face seemed to check any further argument from the belligerent bounty hunter; VT had to learn that trick. "I'm already moving outside official channels by bringing you on board. You'll be paid, but it will have to be after I have the information I need to move against Tiamat."
Coffee's frustration was palpable; VT was feeling something of it herself. But neither woman argued. The DA's reluctance to start moving around large, or even moderate sums of government money was understandable. Who knew who might be watching, and what they might infer from the activity? Better not to tip her hand.
The atmosphere in the room had gone flat, any residual confrontation sputtering out as all three women contemplated a negotiation wherein all parties had their backs to the wall in one way or another.
VT sighed loudly. "Well, looks like we've got ourselves an informant to find," she said. She stood and stretched her arms out to either side.
Coffee stood too. "Thanks for the hospitality, Kathy," she said. "We'll show ourselves out."
Tatopoulos frowned.
"Yeah, you're going to want to change those crumby old keypads," VT said with a weary smile. "We could've let ourselves into your office if we'd wanted to."
Coffee was already on her way out the door. "Budget cuts are a bitch, huh?" she threw over her shoulder.
For the first time, the DA showed just the slightest hint of a smile. "I guess so," she said.
VT touched a finger to the brim of her cap. "We'll be in touch."
ooo
VT descended the stairs in silence, allowing Coffee to chatter her way down every one of the sixteen flights of stairs that would take them back to street level. Mostly the bounty hunter just expounded on what VT had already surmised from their audience with Katherine Tatopoulos, namely that the she knew exactly who Kolarov was and though she had never had any dealings with him directly, had a couple of contacts in the business who had. It paid to know where information could be found in her line of work, apparently. It irritated VT no end to find herself enrolled back in Bounty Hunting 101, but she let Coffee continue her lecture uninterrupted. An arrangement she suspected suited her partner as much as herself. Coffee had made sure to enter the stairwell first, speaking with her back to VT so as not to make eye contact. So as not to address to the elephant in the room.
Eventually they reached the foot of the stairs where a fire exit let out into an alley beside the building. "Anyway, I think I have an idea where we can find Kolarov," said Coffee as she pushed the release bar and strode out into the cool evening air.
VT paused in the doorway, holding the door open with one hand and casting a sharp, disgruntled shadow on the far wall of the alley. "So. Tiamat, huh? When were you planning on sharing that little revelation?"
"He owns a little dive bar across down," Coffee went on heedless of VT's question. She walked a little way up the alley to where the little brown rental car crouched behind a row of trash cans like a cowering dung beetle. "Only bought it last month. Been moving around a lot lately, probably trying to throw off his old syndicate buddies." She unlocked the door and made to climb into the driver's seat. "Genius probably thinks he's safest hiding under everyone's noses. If we can get over there tonight, catch him off guard, maybe-"
"I asked you a question, Coffee," VT barked. She stepped out of the doorway, allowing the door to fall shut behind her. With the door closed, their surroundings were lit only by what little light penetrated the alley from the street beyond. "When were you planning on telling me about this Tiamat character? Is there anything else you wanna tell me? Any other mystery mob bosses you got hidden up your-"
"If we can catch him off guard," Coffee repeated. She was now standing with one foot in the car's foot well, the open door a shield between her and her partner, "maybe we can shake him down for what we need."
VT fumed in the darkness, letting a thick silence fill the alley. A protester bellowed a pithy slogan somewhere out on the street. A car horn reverberated from the shadowed walls.
"You really are a piece of work," VT said, barely loud enough for Coffee to hear. "You think I'm just gonna hop into the passenger seat of your rig and let you whisk me off into the night, to who knows where and God only knows what?" She strode forward a couple of paces.
Coffee stepped out from behind the car door to face her. "Yes, I do," she said.
"Seriously? You expect me to trust you, after holding out on vital intel and making an ass of me in front of the District Attorney?"
"No," said Coffee, keeping her tone level. "I don't. I expect you to sit in the car while I do all the work, then take your money and go fix your damn antenna. Believe me, the last thing I expect is for you to trust a damn cowboy."
Maybe it was these last, long couple of days, or maybe it was the exhausting trek up and down the stairs of the Justice Department building, but that last comment knocked the fight right out VT. Some part of her wanted to plough on, wanted to rip Coffee a new one for sitting on information she must have known was vital, for dragging her into a dangerous mess of syndicates and corrupt officials and, worst of all, pulling her back into the grubby world of bounty hunting. But suddenly she just couldn't find the energy. Her jaw worked and her eyebrow twitched, as if maybe her face might form a scathing comeback independently of her brain. But nothing came to her lips and in the lengthening silence Coffee began climbing back into the car. "Now, are you coming or not?" she called over the angle of the door.
VT pulled off her cap, ran a hand through her hair then plopped the garment back on her head. "Yeah," she growled, then added, "but we will have this discussion again," as she stumped back to the car.
Coffee might have spat a derisory "whatever" in VT's direction, but it was lost beneath the slam of the driver's side door.
ooo
Tanaka desperately wanted to scratch his nose. But he couldn't. He was on retainer duty, which meant hours of standing motionless in the clammy, incense-stinking air of the throne room. So, there he stood, stock still, cowl down and nose itching furiously as he waited for his shift to end.
Yet another mid-level grunt had entered the room to attend his scheduled audience with Tiamat. The man stood almost as motionless as Tanaka and his colleagues, or so it seemed; Tanaka's drooping cowl meant that he could only see the visitor from the waist down. He wondered sometimes what good was a retainer who couldn't properly see a threat, let alone subdue it. But this new leadership, like the old, were sticklers for ceremony. It was a little annoying but at the same time oddly comforting. Tanaka was a creature of habit, and the fact that Tiamat had the same propensity for the theatrical as his erstwhile bosses provided a pleasing continuity.
"Speak, child," came the rasping voice of one of the old women.
It took all of Tanaka's concentration not to flinch. Standing where he was it felt as if the mysterious old hags were right at his shoulder. Still, it beat the long, tedious periods in between appointments, when all Tanaka could do was stand there with the laboured breath of ancient lungs rattling in his ears.
"Mistress," said the newcomer. "Cho's body and ship are taken care of." His voice was deep and grizzled but carried a waver that betrayed nervousness. Tanaka had become very good at picking out the fear in even the most composed of Tiamat's visitors. He could hardly blame them. The old women were creepy as hell.
"Good," spoke a second old voice. There was a long pause. "You've something else to tell us, child?"
The newcomer went to speak, but his voice seemed to catch in his throat. He coughed and started again. "It seems that the bounty hunters, the ones who killed Cho, have started asking questions, My Lady."
"Questions, child?" A third voice, slightly deeper than the other two.
"Yes, Mistress. Questions about… about you, Mistress."
Another pause. Tanaka watched the anxious shifting of the man's feet on the thick carpet. It was no surprise that the guy was worried. Secrecy had been paramount in the rebuilding of the Red Dragon empire. If that secrecy had been compromised, then there was no telling how Tiamat might react. In his time as a retainer, he had never heard them, or her, or whatever, get angry. That was one of the scariest things about them.
After a small eternity, the first voice spoke again. "I am aware, child," she said.
"You are?" asked the newcomer in naked surprise, then added hastily, "Er, I mean, you are, Mistress?"
Tanaka had heard that little exchange a dozen times before. Tiamat had sources so efficient, and so discrete, that she possessed knowledge that at times seemed to border on prescience. Again, creepy as hell.
"Indeed." There was a long, rattling sigh. "I suspect young Cho may have been rather careless at the end. But it is of little consequence. We are nearing the culmination of our great project."
"How would you like us to proceed, Mistress?"
Tanaka liked this guy. He was nervous, but at least he had balls enough to ignore the doorman's bullshit about only speaking when spoken to.
"Monitor the bounty hunters' movements for now," said Tiamat. "Nothing more. Should they get too close, only then will we move against them. It would be unwise for us to tip our hand too soon."
"Yes, Mistress," said the newcomer.
Finger cymbals sounded from a hidden speaker, providing a pseudo-mystical signal that the audience was at an end. The newcomer's feet shifted in such a way as to suggest a bow. He then turned and walked away. The doors slid open and closed, and Tanaka was left once again in the company of that awful, threefold wheezing.
God, he wished he could scratch his nose.