The line went dead.
A few seconds later an encrypted message arrived with an address at the edge of the central district nearest to her shop. I’d have to hustle to make it early enough to scope out the location.
With no time to waste, I headed straight for the meeting point. Enough people were on the streets that I could blend into the normal hustle and bustle. I stopped two blocks away. Our meeting place appeared to be a tiny tea shop tucked between two boarded-up buildings. The shop had a steady stream of business.
I activated my cuff into the same defensive mode I’d used yesterday. If I got close to someone they might feel an odd sensation, like the air before a storm, but it wouldn’t activate unless someone shot at me.
It was a paltry defense, but it was the best I had.
I approached the shop with unhurried steps. Nothing appeared out of place and I didn’t feel watched. A bell over the door announced my entrance. A lovely older lady stood behind the counter taking orders. An older gentleman—her husband, perhaps—prepared each order.
Veronica was not in the store.
It was dinnertime, so I ordered a pot of jasmine green tea, a lemon scone, and a plate of tea sandwiches. I considered paying with the currency chips I had, but Veronica knew I would be here. I’d save the chips for when I truly needed to be anonymous.
After I paid, the old woman peered up at me then nodded. “She is waiting in the back,” she said with a wave. “Go on, I will bring your food and tea.”
“Thank you,” I said.
I pushed through the curtained door, not entirely sure what to expect. Veronica sat on a floor cushion next to a low table. A cup of tea steamed softly in the cool air of the room. She was dressed much the same as I was, except her hood was thrown back.
“Join me,” she said. Her voice was just as lovely as I remembered.
I knelt on the cushion that put my back to the wall. It put me adjacent to Veronica instead of across from her. She smiled into her cup but didn’t comment.
The woman from the front brought my pot of tea and a delicate porcelain cup. She poured the first cup then went back to get my food. She placed it on the table, bowed, and returned to the counter.
I swiped my identity chip over the tabletop reader and added a generous tip to my order. I’d recently spent four months as a waitress and bartender. It was one of the longest times I’d been able to stay in one place, hiding in plain sight. After all, no one expected Lady Ada von Hasenberg to be running plates and dealing with drunks.
I hadn’t needed the money, but after more than a year on the run, I had needed the companionship. The ladies I worked with were amazing, and unlike my experience with the merc squad, I enjoyed their company. But it had been eye-opening just how little a full-time job could pay, so now I was even more conscious about tipping well.
Veronica set a circular device on the table and clicked the middle. I took a sip of tea and pretended ignorance. I didn’t know where she’d gotten her hands on a silencer, but I would dearly love to. All communications from inside a six-foot radius from the silencer would not transmit outside that radius—voices, coms, bugs, nothing. Yet we could still hear the faint murmurs from the front of the shop.
They were so illegal that I hadn’t even bothered to steal one when I’d left home. Because while Ada von Hasenberg had permission to carry one, neither Irena Hasan nor Maria Franco did. And getting caught with one was an automatic ten-year sentence.
“You may lower your hood, if you like. It’s safe here. And would you prefer Irena or . . .” She paused delicately.
If it was meant to shock me, it worked. I pulled myself together and refocused on my purpose. I lowered my hood. “Irena is fine. Thank you for agreeing to meet,” I said after another sip of tea. At least the tea was good.
I picked up one of the delicate triangle tea sandwiches and was transported back to my mother’s afternoon tea parties. The women of the Consortium were just as bloodthirsty and power-hungry as the men, perhaps more so, and entering a ladies’ tea always struck me as entering a nest of pretty vipers.
“I am still not sure it was a good idea,” she said, breaking me from my thoughts.
“Probably not,” I agreed. She grinned. The expression made her look years younger. Perhaps she was not that much older than me after all. “But all the same, I’m glad you did,” I said. “I need . . . assistance. I am willing to pay.”
“Money is only an incentive if I’m alive to enjoy it,” she said. “And considering I have an idea of the trouble hounding you, that’s a pretty big if.”
“I’m not asking for involvement. Just a little information and perhaps an item or two, if you happen to have them sitting around.”
She took a sip of her tea. I let the silence settle around us. I’d said all I was willing to at this point. The rest was up to her.
Finally, she said, “And if I want to be involved?”
“I would strongly discourage it,” I said immediately. I paused, reconsidered. “Unless you are special ops,” I said. “Then I could use the help.”
Her laugh was even more entrancing than her voice. “You are not what I expected,” she said. “Let us discuss details. As I’m sure you’re aware, the silencer will keep our conversation private. I will begin: I want off this planet.”
Warning bells went off. “What is preventing you from doing that now?” I asked. From the look of her shop she was highly successful. Successful fences were not poor.
Shadows darkened her eyes. “No one will take me. Even new visitors are warned off before I can book passage.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “If I take you, do I need to worry about an angry husband hunting us? It won’t affect my decision, but I need to be able to prepare for it.”
“He is not my husband, and he is off-planet now, so we should not have to worry about him. But, yes, he will follow me if I leave a trail, so I will not leave a trail. And when I am safe, I will deal with him.” She smiled with vicious intent.
I finished the last of the tiny sandwiches and broke off a piece of scone. “I am not opposed to taking you off-planet, but my own escape plan is shaky at best. There are many things that can go wrong. Most probably will. And even if it goes off perfectly, we won’t be safe. You should know that before you commit.”
She tilted her head and studied me for a few seconds before her eyes widened. “You’re stealing a ship,” she breathed. “You’re stealing Rockhurst’s ship.”
I neither confirmed nor denied the claim.
She laughed, caught between delight and astonishment. “What do you need to pull this off?”
“First, I have reason to believe my companion has been captured. I need to know his location, as well as the building blueprints. Guard locations would be helpful, too.”
“Do you know who he is?” she asked. I gave her a pointed look. She smiled, then sobered. “He is being held at the detention center the mercs use before they ship out their bounties,” she said. “News travels fast here. So far his identity remains secret but it won’t for long. Same for you.”
“I am hoping to be gone before it becomes a problem. I also need these items,” I said. I held up my com display so she could see the list.
Her eyebrows climbed her forehead as she read but she didn’t balk. “I can get most of those today. The last two will take a bit longer. Maybe by tomorrow.”
I nodded. “Good. I’d like to be ready by tomorrow night if possible. The longer I stay, the worse the danger becomes.” I let frost creep into my expression. “And if you betray me, your not-husband will be the least of your worries.”