To Snatch a Thief

CHAPTER FOUR



There was always a catch, Skye decided, eyeing the humungous syringe the police ME at Combined Forces HQ was wielding. She should have known the get out of jail card had a sting in its tail.

‘The tracker goes just under the skin. You won’t know it’s there.’

‘Whoa! Wait one needle-sticking minute.’ Skye rounded on Hunter who had propped a hip on a desk and was flicking through medical journals without a care in the world. ‘You didn’t say anything about any tracker.’ Like he hadn’t said anything about homework either, she thought. That still rankled.

‘It’s no different from when you had your micro-chip fitted.’ He seemed bored by the whole procedure.

‘I was a month old.’

He shrugged.

She stalled for time. The doctor was loading the syringe with a metallic object the size of Wales. ‘You don’t trust me,’ she grumbled. ‘I get that after King, but if I agree to this, what will it mean exactly?’

A trace of a smile played around Hunter’s lips. It wasn’t reassuring. ‘It means I’ll know where you are at all times; I’ll hear who you speak to, what you say.’

Oh, God. She felt her face colour as the whole humiliating situation hit her. ‘What if I have a boyfriend over?’ she spluttered. ‘What if I get lucky?’ She buried her head in her hands. ‘You’ll hear me go to the toilet.’

Now he sighed. ‘The audio function won’t be activated unless circumstances require it. I’m not a pervert, Skye.’

‘But what happens when you go off duty? I don’t want the whole goddamn law enforcement giggling at my expense.’

He actually yawned…hugely. ‘Seeing as I drew the short straw as your puppy-walker, sadly the lot falls entirely on me.’ He flipped another page. ‘Can we get this done, I haven’t got all day.’

‘How sensitive is it?’

Discarding the magazine, he nodded to the doctor. ‘If activated, it would pick up your heartbeat; I’d be able to hear you breathing.’

‘This just gets better and better.’

While the doctor undid the top buttons of her crisp, new, pale grey, trainee cadet shirt, the contents of her stomach turned to water. The syringe had taken on the proportions of a heat-seeking missile.

‘Will you be able to hear my thoughts too?’ Her voice, strained through clenched teeth, wasn’t steady. The knees inside her charcoal grey slacks with snazzy yellow stripe up the sides, weakened. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt a quick spritz of cold liquid on the skin just under her collarbone.

‘Enlightening as that might be, no, I won’t.’

‘Pity,’ she snapped as the area went numb. ‘Because what I’m thinking right now can’t be repeated out loud.’

Hunter had picked her up from detention in the Dart – a huge improvement, she thought, from the clunky Armacar she’d arrived in. When she’d eased into the passenger seat, she stretched out her legs and sighed. Freedom: she could almost taste it.

‘This is totally V. I mean vivid as. Wait ‘till I tell Lexie about this tonight. Hey.’ A sudden thought struck her. ‘Don’t suppose we could go via his school?’

‘No.’ Hunter reached for a miniature hand-held scanner attached to a retractable cord in the dashboard and ran it over his upper arm. A series of thin red beams played back and forth over his bicep.

‘Micro-chip recognised as Lieutenant Stephen Hunter, NLCFHQ. Authorized access confirmed.’

‘Engage power,’ Hunter ordered and the Dart’s engine purred to life. They took off in a vertical lift that took Skye’s breath, then shot forward so fast she was pinned to her seat.

‘Bloody hell! Are you showing off or do you always drive like a maniac?’

‘Skye,’ Hunter said, coolly. ‘I’m willing to make small allowances for your lack of respect, but from now on you address me as Lieutenant, or Sir. Clear?’

‘There haven’t been any sirs for fifty years…sir. Can’t I just say aye, aye, Cap’n like in the holos?’ Come to think of it, she mused, he looked a bit like a pirate with his dark skin and his hair tied back in a leather thong; a dangerous one at that.

He was quiet so long she glanced at his face. The single raised eyebrow showed annoyance, as did the tight line of his lips.

‘Guess not,’ she muttered under her breath. ‘So, do I get a weapon, sir?

‘No.’

‘Then what was the point of all those sims? I’m good, you know I’m good.’

‘Simulations sharpen reactions – mind and body. Trainee cadets aren’t armed.’

‘Well that just sucks. What if I need to defend myself? What if a homicidal maniac tries to kill me?

‘Run.’

They were already speeding silently a few feet above the busy waterways of the Thames, dodging aqua-taxis and ferries and a few brave tour boats still plying their trade before the big freeze turned the water solid. Snow had settled, postcard pretty, on the turrets and spires of the Houses of Parliament, but Skye had always found them creepy, sticking out of the water like the carcass of some long-drowned monster. As they flashed past, a huge animated hoarding fixed to the clock tower was replaying ancient footage of the day the barriers were breached.

‘Were you here when that happened?’ she asked, watching people fleeing for their lives from a wall of water.

He flicked his eyes to the screen. ‘Hardly. But my mother talks about it. When she was a girl the Thames was only as wide as those old bridges. Difficult to believe there’s submerged roads in front of those buildings. She remembers the docks being built at the Palace too.’

‘Mmm. Freaky. Did she know the King?’

‘Not personally.’ He glanced at her and sighed. ‘The royal family were in exile by then; they abdicated straight after the uprising.’

‘Austria, right?’

‘Australia. Didn’t you study history at school?’

‘I didn’t go much.’

‘It shows.’

‘So, the King didn’t agree with the rebellion?’

‘No, he sided with the government of the time. He agreed something had to be done to stem the population explosion, however unpopular.’

‘So people really went to prison for having kids?’

He spared her another glance. ‘It was more complicated than that, but yes. If they didn’t pay the birth tax – which was hefty – they’d serve a custodial sentence. Any more questions?’

The Solution: even she knew about it. Countless holos had been made since, showing the gory scenes of lines of brave men and women, arms linked, being mowed down by tanks. After that it was all about street battles and bodies and burning buildings until the old government was ousted and their beloved President’s dad took over. She and Ashleigh enjoyed them. There was always some good looking sort with white teeth and a smudge on his cheek, who died heroically at the end, but saved the sexy female lead so she could tell the story.

‘It meant only rich people could afford to have babies, didn’t it?’ she stated.

‘Effectively, yes.’

‘And if you went ahead and had one anyway and you got caught, they hacked off your goolies. Or is that just Hollywood?’

A ghost of a smile played over his lips. ‘I wouldn’t have put it quite that way but, for those that continued to disregard the law, forcible sterilization of both men and women was used as a deterrent. It was that which finally caused the people to revolt.’

I guess it would.’

‘But you must remember,’ Hunter continued. ‘In the earlier half of this century, the country was on its knees, the government bankrupt, infra-structures failing. The divide between rich and poor becoming more marked.’ Without amusement, he gave a half laugh. ‘Nothing’s changed, except now we’ve achieved Dickensian conditions.’

That made her think for a while.

Hunter changed the angle of his body and the Dart banked sharply to the right and left the river behind. Slowing to a crawl at street level, they entered a world of cold, windy streets dividing stone and glass buildings, clogged with noise and crowds.

‘Is it much further? Oh, sorry, is it much further, sir?’

He turned to her then, an agonised look on his face. ‘Don’t you ever keep quiet?’

‘I’ve kept quiet for quite some time, sir…ten minutes, maybe.’

‘Not long enough.’

‘Something of a record, actually, sir.’

He shook his head and laughed just a little.

She saw the moment the snatch happened. A shuttle bus in the transit lane in front was spewing passengers into the queue of those waiting to board. Tempers frayed as people tangled. Two men, standing toe to toe and looking like colourful cockerels in their multi-coloured parkas, puffed out their chests and faced each other down, breath steaming in the freezing air. A young girl was pushed to the ground. They could see the driver waving his arms, trying to stop a group clambering up the steps while others were climbing down. Bystanders stopped to watch, adding to the confusion.

Hunter swore under his breath.

‘There!’ Skye pointed to a youth who was backing out of the crowd. ‘He took her bag! That black woman in red, the kid snatched her bag; it’s under his jacket.’

‘Stay here! Don’t touch anything!’ Hunter was out of the Dart before she could open her mouth.

She saw the boy clock him. Saw him turn and streak away. She knew what would be going through his head: he’d be thinking the snatcher was older, he’d tire easy. With a head start, dodging around in these crowds, he’d vanish like smoke; piece of cake.

He didn’t know Hunter.

She lost them in the mob of woolly hats, and settled back to wait. It was wrong, but part of her wanted the boy to get away, it had been a good clean snatch. She sighed. From now on she’d have to stop thinking like that.

A sudden tap on the window made her jump.

‘You the police?’

She lowered the glass. ‘Um…’

‘This lady’s lost her handbag. Shouldn’t you be doing something?’ A nosey sort smothered in faux fur and smelling of peppermint shoved her head in Skye’s face. ‘Taking statements or something?’

‘Um…’ Blaring sirens from a freight tram screaming past addled her brain further.

‘Person gets mugged, the law don’t do nothing. It’s a disgrace. This lady’s in shock.’ The woman pointed to the victim surrounded by nodding sympathisers. ‘Happens all the time; got so a person can’t walk the streets without being mugged or worse. Whole country’s down the gurgler. Look. Look at the rubbish over there.’ She jerked a thumb to a mountain of litter piled against an overflowing garbage gobbler. ‘What are the police doing about that?

‘You expect the police to empty the rubbish…?’

She ignored that. ‘My parents, God rest them, would be spinning… Spinning if they came back and saw the state of things now. Is this what they fought for? Risked their lives alongside the President’s dad, God rest him too, wonderful man that he was, and his son just like him, with loads of their generation. If it weren’t for them brave souls, these kids wouldn’t even have been born and do they give a monkeys – no.’ The crowd were all nodding, egging her on. ‘You’re all the same,’ she shouted, glaring at Skye as if she’d personally taken the bag. ‘Makes you wonder if it was worth all that carnage. And half the buildings have never been rebuilt. No wonder people are dying in their homes – it’s not right. It’s not right.’ She was on a roll, playing to an appreciative audience. ‘Every time you turn on your screen there’s more. Twenty nine! Twenty nine dead now and we’re told it’s not a virus. Not catching, hah! And what are they doing to stop it? Nothing. Wait till it spreads to the knobs; then we’ll see some action, but it won’t will it, ‘cos they have services that work. You don’t see blocked drains and rotting rubbish fouling the streets in Hackney. There’s your answer. So what are you going to do about this lady’s bag?’

Somehow she’d come full circle.

Head reeling, Skye opened her door and stepped out. ‘You are so full of hot air, lady,’ she muttered. ‘We should stick a pipe in your gob and drill for methane.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I said, my…um.’ What the hell was he, anyway? ‘My boss.’ Yes, that was good. ‘Is, as we speak… Oh look, bringing the handbag back.’ A breathless Hunter reappeared dragging the handcuffed boy by one hand, and holding the bag in the other.

‘Scan them,’ he snapped, then at Skye’s obvious blank look, reached into the Dart and threw her a hand-held which had apparently been on the back seat. Document both victim and perpetrator IDs, record a brief report of the incident, and patch it to HQ. There!’ Exasperated as she stared, clueless, at the object in her hand, he jabbed a finger at the scanner. ‘Manual keypad if you can’t do it audio. Don’t you remember any of your training? Madam.’ Hitching his weapon holster higher on his hip, he turned to the lady in red. ‘I’m calling for a cruiser to take you to LCFHQ. Everyone else, show’s over. Get this bus moving. Haven’t you got homes to go to?’

‘My first day, and we’ve snatched a criminal,’ Skye grinned, as they got under way again. Glancing behind, she watched the sulking boy being loaded into a cruiser. ‘Not bad, eh?’

Hunter barked out a laugh. ‘Yeah, he’s a real mastermind.’

‘See.’ She shot him a snooty look. ‘The scheme’s working already.’

He flicked his eyes up and over her. ‘Now you’re in uniform you’ll need to do something about your appearance. At least try to look professional.’

The thoughtless remark jolted. She felt her temper surge but managed to get it together by the time they parked. Still seething, like the puppy Hunter had described her, Skye followed him into the mayhem that was LCFHQ and the start of her new life.