Taking the Highway

ALL THE LIGHTS WERE off in Oliver’s house, the front door locked. Danny did a perimeter scan while Andre waved at the video pickup on the front porch, waiting for the house to recognize his face and let him in.

“You are not an authorized visitor.” The house system was using its butler voice.

“Come on, you piece of shit. You’ve seen me ten thousand times.”

“Please leave now.”

Danny stepped behind him, credentials in hand. “Bet it will open if I flash my shield.”

Andre caught his arm. “And tell Captain Evans exactly where you are.” He pointed to the Eurosafe logo on the welcomat. The company was one of three tied directly into copnet.

He pounded on the door. “Nikhil! It’s Andre.”

A curtain twitched, and then Nikhil’s voice came through the pickup. “Who’s that with you?”

“Open the door!”

“Why aren’t you alone?”

In one motion, Andre unholstered his weapon, aimed it at the door, and shot the lock off. The electronic charge made a popping noise and the bullet pinged into the lock, but nothing loud enough to alert the neighbors.

He nodded to Danny and reholstered the Yavorit. “We’ll have to turn the alarm off from inside before every patrol in the city gets here.” He shouldered the door open and walked in.

Nikhil stood in the door to the dining room, peeking into the entrance hall. He was barefoot, his hair uncombed, wearing ratty jeans and a WSU t-shirt.

Andre grabbed Nikhil’s shirt front and pinned him to the wall. “Listen, turdsack. When I say open the door, I mean—”

“I saw people! I thought you were . . . and when I opened the door, he’d—”

“He’s a police officer.” Andre pressed his forearm across Nikhil’s throat and Nikhil’s eyes widened. “And since he’s probably going to keep me from killing you, he’s also your new best friend.”

“Hey, hey!” Danny pulled at his arm. “This gets us nowhere.”

Andre let go. “See?”

Nikhil backed away, straightening his shirt, while Andre crossed his arms and glared.

“This isn’t all his fault,” Danny said quietly.

Nikhil put his fingertips to his throat. “Maybe not all of it, but enough. I should have been smarter.”

Danny looked pointedly at Andre.

“I guess we all should have been smarter,” Andre said. “Go find your alarm and turn it off.”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Andre. I’m so sorry.” Nikhil brought his arm up to wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his t-shirt. His face was flushed and strained. His eyes were still full, and Andre was glad when Danny cleared his throat.

“You got a bathroom around here? I gotta piss away four beers.” Danny walked toward the back of the house. “Never mind. I can find it.”

Andre sat in the nearest chair in the formal front room. He glanced at the reproduction train station clock that dominated the opposite wall. Five-thirty already? Maybe it was fast. He checked his datapad. Nope. In fact, the clock was half a minute slow.

Nikhil canceled the house alarm, took a shaky breath, and collapsed onto the sofa.

“Nikhil,” Andre said.

Nikhil neither answered nor looked at him.

“Nikhil. I need you to man up, here. On Monday, you and your friends sabotaged Overdrive.”

“I didn’t know it would be like that. I thought it would be like the first time, hurt cars, not people.”

“Right. The guy who tried to kill you that day—”

“Talic.”

Andre nodded. “Talic. And I want to know how the hell you knew that.”

Nikhil folded his arms and stuck out his chin, making him look far younger than his twenty years. “I know a lot of things.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like . . . like my dad . . .” Nikhil took a shaky breath. “Something happened to my dad.”

“Talic has him,” Andre said. “Thinks he can trade him for you.”

Nikhil jumped off the sofa and paced in front of Andre’s chair. “Is that why you’re here? Take me to him. Take me right now.”

Andre stuck out his foot, hooked it around Nikhil’s ankle, and pulled. Nikhil stumbled and glared. Andre pointed to the sofa. “Sit.”

“No! Let’s go! If he’s got my dad, then—”

“Shut up and listen to me. Talic doesn’t want you.”

“But you just said—”

“He wants Topher Price-Powell. He thinks you can deliver him. We need to cut out the middleman and give him Topher. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”

Nikhil pressed the back of his hand to his sweaty upper lip. “What about Topher?”

“What do you mean?”

“How are you going to keep Topher safe?”

Andre blinked at Nikhil as the clock above his head clicked off seconds. Now what? Lie? Well, maybe not lie so much as tell Nikhil what he wanted to hear. “We’re going to do this the right way. I’ll help you any way I can. I’ll walk you through the justice system, I’ll get you set up with a lawyer, I’ll help you turn state’s evidence and testify against the CEJ. I can’t do any of that without Topher.”

Nikhil walked to the front door and tried to engage the lock, but thanks to the Yavorit, not even a hard shoulder to the door would seal it. He stood next to the nearest armchair and tugged it toward the front hall. “I hate Detroit, what it’s become, the haves and the have-nots. I hate the way my dad is working for the city. I thought the CEJ was going to make a difference.” He positioned the chair in front of the door and sagged into it. “They can’t, though. They can’t heal Detroit any more than my dad can. But at least Dad spends his days trying to fix what’s broken. Topher just wants to break it more.”

“Where is he, Nikhil?”

Nikhil sighed, dangling his forearms between his knees and lowering his head. “He’s at the economic summit pre-party in Greenfield Village. He went there to confront Madison Zuchek about the files.”

“Files you stole from your dad.”

Nikhil nodded. “Did you know that Talic owns two security companies? They do a ton of work for the city. Eight million dollars worth last year alone. You can hide a lot in those kinds of numbers, like his extra special payments from Madison Zuchek.”

Andre held up a palm. “Your dad has proof of this, on paper.”

“Of course. Yeah. There were these accidents—”

“And you handed those files to Topher?”

Nikhil took one look at Andre’s face, jumped off the sofa, and shot into the kitchen.

Andre chased after him, almost grabbing his collar before Nikhil ducked behind Danny.

Danny blocked his way. “What gives?”

The temp phone vibrated in Andre’s pocket. He grabbed it and held it to his ear. “You set the time, I pick the place. Meet me at Greenfield Village.”

A pause on the other end and then Talic’s low chuckle. “You do not dictate terms to me, LaCroix.”

“Why not? It’s a public place.”

“Too public. You are aware of the economic summit pre-party? The antique auto show?”

“The mayor’s there, isn’t she? And Mother Mad? You can turn Nikhil directly over to your bosses.”

Again the chuckle. “We both know I won’t be bothering Mayor Smith with this.”

“You want him or not? Greenfield Village, six o’clock.” Andre slammed the phone closed.

Danny looked down at him, arms crossed. “You realize that half the city’s at Greenfield f*cking Village today?”

“Half the police force, too. I hope.” Andre glanced at the front door and shook his head. It wouldn’t stay shut without the chair, and he didn’t want to leave it open. He led them out the other way, through the kitchen door at the back of the house.

And straight into Sofia Gao.

She still wore her favorite black pants and killer boots, but had traded her blazer for a worn leather jacket. Her mouth formed a red-ringed O and her eyelids seemed to disappear around widened eyes. The cut near her temple bulged angrily.

He heard a yelp and a scramble behind him, as Danny pushed Nikhil inside and locked the door.

Andre turned and knocked. “No, guys, it’s all right. It’s Sofia.”

“You are not an authorized visitor,” the welcomat said.

Andre turned to Sofia, “God, it’s great to see you. What are you doing here? How did you find me?” He wanted to wrap her in his arms, letting her spicy citrus scent blend with his until the two of them were impossible to tell apart. He wanted to take care of her, and let her take care of him. But his arms remained at his sides. It was as if she wore invisible armor. It was the same barrier he’d seen the day they’d met, as if Sofia were a stranger to him, not to be trusted.

She looked him up and down. “I might ask you the same thing.”

“Ladies first.”

“I’m here to do something I should have done a long time ago. No, something you should have done a long time ago. I’m here to arrest your nephew.”

Andre was suddenly glad that the door was locked and that he stood between it and Sofia.

“We have to. He’ll cooperate, yes? Maybe throw over his terrorist cell?”

“They aren’t a cell. They’re just a bunch of kids playing radical.”

“They’re terrorists, LaCroix. Someone has to pay for the Overdrive crash and right now Nikhil is all we’ve got.”

“I can get you more. Just hold on until—”

“I’m sorry about this.” She held her shield to the video pickup and the traitorous welco unlocked the back door. She pushed past him and into the house.

Andre followed, almost plowing her over when she stopped short in the front hallway.

“Shit!” Sofia stamped her foot and glared at the front door, which stood wide open. Andre swept past her to the front porch, where he saw the tail lights of Nikhil’s Octave disappear around the corner. Danny’s Jeep was still parked at the curb.

Sofia mumbled a string of harsh syllables that Andre took for Chinese curse words.

“It’s been four days and the media are all over this. We look like idiots.”

“And you need a glamour arrest? I wasn’t aware that the police department was on the newsnets’ payroll.”

“Is that what you think this is?” Sofia spread her hands. “Where’s my backup? Where are the cruisers and the SWAT team and the newsnets on standby to make sure they all get footage? Where’s my goddamn help?”

Andre shrugged. “Welcome to my world.”

“No, I am not going to your world. At least I still care about my shield. More than that, I still care about doing what’s right.”

“Oh, and you’re so qualified to judge what that is.” Andre marched out the open front door and across the lawn to Danny’s Jeep.

Sofia trailed after him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Andre turned on her. “He has my brother!”

“Who?”

“Talic. Jae Geoffrey Talic took my brother and if I don’t deliver a body to him at six o’clock, Oliver dies.”

“Talic? No—he can’t—what body?”

“Topher Price-Powell. Chief terrorist and the man who crashed Overdrive. I give him to Talic, and my problems are over, your problems are over, and the city’s problems are over. With Topher out of the picture, Overdrive is safe once and for all. I think you’ll agree that’s better than a glamour arrest of someone who doesn’t even matter.” He levered himself into the Jeep’s front seat.

“No.” Sofia gripped the door. “Not this. I won’t let you hand over a man to be executed without trial. That isn’t what we do.”

Andre had the uncomfortable feeling he’d used the same argument with Quigg, but pushed it out of his mind. “What about my brother?” he asked. “He’s an innocent man. Should Oliver be executed instead?”

“There has to be another way.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know . . . something!”

“When you think of it, let me know. I’ll be at Greenfield Village, saving my family.” He yanked the door out of her hand, slammed it, and drove away.

Andre waited until he was on the highway, sure he wasn’t followed and letting Overdrive do part of the work. He buzzed Danny’s personal code and was rewarded by his growling voice. “Don’t worry,” Danny said. “I got him.”

“Greenfield Village?” Andre asked.

“By surface streets. You?”

“Highway.”

“Sofia?”

“Pissed.”

“You lose her?”

“I think so.” He’d had a good head start and had backtracked down several side streets, but he’d already told her where he was going, so what was the point?

“Did you lose her or not?”

Andre consulted the rear display. “I lost her.”

“Yeah.” There was a skeptical pause. “Did I leave my coat in the back of my car?”

Andre reached over and snagged the lump of fabric from the back seat. It was a jacket built for an orangutan—too short, too wide, the sleeves too long. The coat was a faded brown, unnaturally shiny all over, worse in the elbows and hem.

Andre raised his eyebrows at Danny. “Kincloth?”

“My lucky jacket.”

“Lucky that you’ve never been laughed out of the building?”

“Put it on.”

“There’s no way I’m going to fit into this thing.”

“Look, dipshit. I have stuck my ass out for you so far that I’m mooning them in Windsor. I’m asking you to do one lousy thing for me.”

Andre shrugged and put on the hideous coat. It rode up over his shoulders and ballooned in front. The pockets sagged with everything from sunglasses to pepper spray.

“Is it buttoned?” Danny asked.

“That will make it look worse.”

“Button it!” Danny and Nikhil chorused.

Buttoning the jacket made it ride up behind him, too narrow across the back. He tried, and failed, to yank it back into place. The extra weight in the pockets didn’t help. “Jesus, Danny, how much shit do you have in here?”

“Some of that shit is useful.”

Andre pawed through Danny’s pockets and his own, keeping only the essentials—cuffs, cutters, weapons, and wallet.

Danny lowered his voice. “Sofia Gao can do a thousand things right now, none of them good for you.”

“I know.” Andre continued to shed unnecessary gear. “And there is nothing I can do about that.”