Bluescreen (Mirador, #1)

“Keep your djinni turned off,” said Marisa. “We can do this, and we can’t risk losing you to Bluescreen again.”


The search narrowed to North America, and then California, and then Los Angeles. Marisa watched as it sectioned off each part of the city. Los Angeles had tens of millions of people, almost all of them with djinnis, which meant there were thousands of relays and repeaters to sort through—it took time, but it would allow a very specific result when they found the target. The Johara display highlighted areas on the map, drilling down to . . .

“Mirador,” said Marisa.

“Your search found us instead?” asked Bao.

“No,” said Marisa, “the map’s not showing San Juanito, it’s . . . south, maybe a mile or two. A warehouse.” She looked at him. “But it’s here. The Bluescreen headquarters is right here in Mirador.”





EIGHTEEN


“What do we do?” asked Bao.

“We talk to the police,” said Saif. “If they’re not working with Tì Xū Dāo, maybe we can trust them—”

“You keep suggesting that,” said Marisa. “You know we can’t trust them. Even if they hadn’t warned the dealers about the drone we were using, there was a barrio-wide shootout this morning and they still haven’t followed up on it. The police are out.”

“And we can’t go to La Sesenta, either,” said Sahara, falling into her standard role as the leader. “Not after what happened last time. We have to do this ourselves. Our way.”

“You want to try to hack them?” asked Anja. “The programmers who figured out how to circumvent every cyber security system in the world?”

“Not a hack,” Sahara said, and looked at Bao. “An infiltration.”

Bao looked at her in surprise. “You want to go inside? In person? Did you get shot in the brain this morning?”

“No, she’s right,” Marisa said, and blinked on the satellite display, saving the image and cutting the connection to Johara. She looked at Sahara. “We’re still hidden?”

Sahara nodded. “They’ll find your search history if they’re paying attention, but they won’t trace it to us.”

“Thanks.” Marisa looked around the restaurant for a large screen, and found an undamaged TV on a side wall. She sent the satellite image to it, and the five of them stared at the top-down view of the warehouse. It had a wide stretch of pavement around the building, with a fence around that, and the roof bristled with solar trees.

“What are you trying to do?” asked Saif. “Specifically. I assume you don’t want to blow it up or murder everyone inside, so . . . what? What’s your endgame?”

“First we need to cut their connection to the net,” said Marisa. “And then trash their system, so they can’t control anybody ever again.”

“They’re connecting over satellites,” said Anja. “See the size of that antenna? The only way to shut them down will be to cut their power.”

“But look at all the solar trees on that place,” said Saif. “There’s no way you’re killing their power supply.”

“You’re not thinking about the kind of hardware they’ve got in there,” said Marisa. “The VR is probably as simple as a chair, like we used in the parlor, but the server farm they’ll need to run it has got to be massive. They almost certainly supplement with an outside power source.”

“Right here,” said Sahara, pointing to the image. “There’s a cable running into the warehouse—we cut that and we drop them to emergency levels.”

Bao nodded. “And don’t forget, the solar trees don’t connect to the server farm through magic. There’s going to be one or two heavy cables right there in the server room that we could cut once we get inside.”

“Okay then,” said Saif. “How are you going to get inside?”

“These people have been working closely with a Chinese gang,” said Bao. “I, as you may have noticed, am Chinese. What are the odds that any given security guard employed by the Bluescreen cartel knows every Tì Xū Dāo thug by sight? It’s virtually impossible. If I can get my hands on one of those goofy, spangly jackets, I’m betting I can slip in.”

“That . . . shouldn’t work,” said Saif. “Is this a live image?”

“It was two minutes ago,” said Marisa.

“Then look,” said Saif, pointing at the parking lot. “This entire fenced area is crawling with people and vehicles. That’s got to be Tì Xū Dāo, and I guarantee they know each other. You’re not getting past them.”

“Not easily,” said Bao. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

“This exterior power cable probably goes right to the server room,” said Anja, pointing at the screen. “With only one angle, though, I can’t tell exactly where that room is. Main floor? Second floor? How many floors does this place have?” She looked around at the rest of the devastated restaurant. “How many of these screens work? Let’s get some street views of this place.”