Crow's Gambit, page 5
part #1 of Sylphan Revelations Series
Chapter 7
THE MSP STATION WAS open twenty-four hours. This late, though, the crowds had thinned.
Walking along the upper level, she watched passengers going through ticketing and security below. Outside the shear glass wall of the station, the night sky was dark but artificial lights illuminated everything around. Taxis and auto-cars zipped in and out of spots next to the curb as people were dropped off or collected.
Neil hadn’t been willing to say more about the actual job during their meeting and never moved past being enigmatic about the entire endeavor.
She left unconvinced. Ego aside, a large part of that was her suspicion about why they wanted her, specifically. There were lots of barnstorming pilots out there. Regardless of what the government said officially, most of the barnstorming circuit suspected there were black-ops, military, and CIA drone pilots as well. Even given her background in aerospace engineering nothing Neil said made her think she was special enough to call for all this attention.
A definite interest existed, however. They’d already invested money in her for their coverage of Thomas’s drone and the train tickets. A drop in the bucket to someone like Darrow, though.
Still, their dossier on her was disturbingly complete. Given the precautions she took as a barnstormer that took more than mild effort. Unless someone who knew specific things about her was working with Darrow. Without any family and few friends, the list remained short. It included Lizzy, who was the definition of secrecy and paranoia. And her ex-boyfriend.
If she had been reading between the lines, the job also involved the Sylph somehow. It had to, given it was a “very large, very unique” drone they wanted her to pilot. Which meant it was doomed to get destroyed by the Sylph.
Even barnstormers gave the Sylph a healthy level of respect. One did not go out of their way to attract their attention. So why was Darrow Industries trying to poke them? It sounded like something her ex-boyfriend would be involved with. Or rather, his Millennium group friends. Cultists really. Doomsdayers, who believed society had become corrupt and Net-Day signaled the start of its downfall and eventual destruction.
The other voice in her head, the calm relaxed one, reminded her Darrow Industries worked with some of the most advanced military and civilian technology on the planet. If they were making a drone it was something really, really awesome.
For a gearhead like her, it sounded liked heaven. It was also a potential path to a sponsorship to finish her degree. With Darrow, she could get a corporate one. There would also be the matter of the blacklist she was on after being expelled. However, a corporate sponsorship from someone like Darrow would override that. This could be the answer to her problems and her future.
The tickets Dale had given her were open ended. If she changed her mind, all she had to do was get on a different train and come home. That was the largest advantage to this scenario, wasn’t it? After the encounter with Thomas, she wouldn’t be getting many barnstorming jobs.
The FBI would still be looking for her—at least for a while. It was unlikely they had an AI search authorization on her yet. She had undoubtedly been recorded on traffic and security cameras by now. For them, the drawback to having so much data was it couldn’t manually be located, accessed, and reviewed. At least not in a brief period of time. An AI it was capable, but the privacy laws required the FBI to have a court authorization to unlock the search algorithms for a dataset that large. If she moved quickly, she could be outside the radius of their data net before they were looking for her.
A trip to New York would get her out of town for a few days. It’d give her time to consider her options. She pulled out the ticket Dale had given her and turned it over several times.
New York.
Why not?
The ticket kiosk directed her to a direct rail connection to Chicago first. Since the Puma didn’t run to the Twin Cities yet, she needed to transfer onto it in Chicago. Without any checked luggage, the security check was minimal. In a few minutes she was standing outside her train. It only had one stop before the Windy City and was cleared to run at a higher speed. Like older versions, this train used a diesel-powered electric hybrid engine, only now the fuel came from algae grown in vats.
The trip to Chicago would take about six hours, so she decided to get some sleep. She propped a pillow up against the window, curled the blanket around her, and was asleep in a few minutes.
IT WAS ABOUT AN HOUR before she stirred again. The train slowed slightly as it passed a city.
Looking out the window, the dark of the night was soon disrupted by light and color. Parking lots and cars. Brightly lit signs advertising attractions. In the distance she could see a few lights marking the top of roller coasters and water slides. She recognized the Wisconsin Dells.
Regional tourist attractions like this were booming in recent years. After Net-Day, large parts of the tourism and entertainment industry had collapsed. Without air travel it was hard for many people to get to attractions like Las Vegas, Disneyland, or Hawaii. Eventually the railways increased capacity, while people also rediscovered the road trip.
Many of the major attractions recovered but didn’t return to their earlier attendance numbers. Other places, like the Dells, went through a growth spurt as people opted for destinations closer to home. In many ways it was a return to the tourism of sixty, or even a hundred, years ago.
She had only been to the Dells once, with Grandpa. When she turned ten, Grandpa had decided they should go on a classic summer vacation before she was too old. They had gone to the water parks and screamed as they went down the water slides. They played miniature golf at night under white artificial lights.
Even though their car was parked just outside the window of their inexpensive hotel, the entire experience felt extravagant to her ten-year-old self. Watching the lights fade as the train traveled through the night made her sad. She didn’t think she had ever told him how much the trip had meant to her.
For a time, she dozed again.
When the train stopped in Milwaukee, she woke again. Baggage handlers removed a few suitcases and some shipping containers marked U.S. Postal Service. There were only a few passengers getting on or off at this time of night. The platform looked deserted, which made it easy to spot the man waiting just down the platform. He had short hair, cut with a military precision, wearing a dark suit. They made him look sharp and professional, in a generic sort of way. But what really caught her attention was he seemed to be talking to himself.
She watched him for several seconds before deciding he wasn’t talking to himself.
He was talking to someone; they just weren’t there. He had an implanted sub vocalization receiver, a device designed to pick up the minute vibrations of the larynx produced when someone talked in their head. Subvocalization implants weren’t unusual these days, although that specific implant was something she didn’t have.
She idly watched the man continue talking to himself and decided he wasn’t good at using the implant, given how he exaggerated the motion of his mouth.
Turning her gaze back toward the baggage handlers, they locked the storage compartments back up. They’d be on their way soon. Laying her head back against the pillow, she shut her eyes. Something was nagging at the back of her mind though. Something about the man’s suit. What about it seemed familiar? She searched her memories and when it came to her, her eyes snapped open. The suit had an identical style to the ones the two FBI agents were wearing. A cold nervous feeling settled over her. As the train started to move, she glanced up and down the platform, but the man was gone.
Could she be imagining things? So what if the suits looked familiar? Lots of men had similar suits. It was just paranoia. It wasn’t like every FBI agent bought their clothes at the same store. Or did they?
Questions kept popping into her mind. Where had he gone? Could he have gotten on the train? A minute passed as the feeling of a pit in her stomach grew. She pulled out the ticket to Chicago, studying it. Before getting on the train, the ticket agent had verified the return trip was valid and in her name. In her name. She hit the wall with her fist. Lizzy would be disappointed in her. She had left an electronic trail to follow. The FBI must have moved faster with their data search than she expected.
The feeling of cold dread grew, and the back of her neck tingled in anxiety. A voice in her head told her to run. Or at least hide. She stood up and grabbed her bag. Since it was the middle of the night, the train cars were partially filled. There wouldn’t be anywhere with enough people to blend in. So, she headed to the only hiding place that came to mind.
Going down the steps to the lower level, she checked to make sure no one could see, then ducked into one of the small restrooms. She squeezed into the small space, pulled her knees up to her chest, and locked the door.
She sat in the small space thinking for several minutes. Mostly about the fact she was sitting on a chemical toilet who knows how many passengers had used. The image made her skin crawl. Was hiding necessary? She remembered her Grandpa had always told her to trust her gut. Making up her mind, she leaned back, hugged her bag to her chest, and tried to take deep calming breaths. It would be an hour until they reached Chicago. She’d wait here until then.
Chapter 8
SEVERAL TIMES DURING the last hour Cassie had tried to adjust her position to relieve cramping muscles. It was futile given the cramped quarters of the toilet. They must be nearing their destination though because people were starting to chat and move around outside the door.
A few jiggled the door handle, but at her silence, they eventually moved on, impatient or determining the toilet was locked for out-of-order reasons.
Cassie started wondering about the best time to leave her hiding place. If she waited long enough, the FBI agent would leave. That was if the man had been an agent and if he was on the train. However, if she stayed too long, then the railway personnel could get suspicious when she popped out after everyone had left. Maybe she could feign stomach distress? On the other hand, if she exited as soon as the passengers started leaving, she might get lost in the crowd, and if she was lucky, get off the train before the FBI agent. Again, if that had been an FBI agent, and if he got on the train.
Deciding to go with the crowd was the best choice, Cassie tried to prepare herself. When the train stopped, she waited and listened. Soon she could hear people talking as they moved down the aisle outside. Unlocking the door, she forced her cramped muscles to move and stepped out onto painfully tingling legs. Looking around, she didn’t see the man. She let out a small sigh of relief. In front of her a family was just getting off the train. A small boy struggled with a suitcase that was as tall as he was.
“That looks awfully heavy,” she smiled at the boy. “Here let me help with that.”
She took the suitcase and lifted if off the train, moving with the family. The husband and wife smiled at her wearily in thanks. She stayed close to them, trying to blend in, as they moved away from the train. Her gaze was locked straight ahead, resisting the urge to look around for fear of drawing attention to herself. At the edge of the platform, she handed the boy back the suitcase and smiled at him as he rolled it along beside his parents.
Behind her, workers accidentally tipped over a trash bin while emptying it. The loud crash made her instinctively turn and look. Several other people glanced at the workers before going on about their business.
As she turned back her eyes met with those of another person farther down the platform. A woman with red hair wearing a smart pants suit looking directly at her. She was standing completely motionless except for a slight motion of her lips and jaw. It was hard to tell at this distance, but it looked like she was talking to someone. Her eyes hadn’t left Cassie’s though and there was no one else with her.
She was talking to herself. Shit.
Turning her back to the woman, she continued walking with the other passengers toward the main terminal. It was hard to walk at a normal pace and resist the urge to look back to see if the woman was there. Just before she entered the short hallway to the terminal, she glanced down to the other end of the platform. The man in the dark suit was stepping down off the train and looking in her direction. It took all her restraint not to break out into a run.
Cassie turned into the main terminal, out of view of the assumed agents behind her. She broke into a quick trot trying to look like someone about to miss a departure. In front of her, a large group of tourists walked together. As she moved behind them, she slowed her pace. From their accents and clothes, she took them to be a group of college students from Germany. Keeping her head down, she tried to make herself small.
They were probably in the country on one of the limited exchange programs that traveled to the U.S. by ship and then did an extended tour by rail. Several of the students looked at her curiously when she slid into their group but said nothing. Turning her head gradually, she glanced behind her, trying to use her peripheral vision as much as possible. Back by the platform’s exit, she saw the man and woman standing in the middle of the terminal. They were looking in different directions scanning the crowd.
Cassie kept walking with the students until they found tables and started to sit down. About to be exposed, she looked around quickly. Nearby was a small clothing and souvenir store. She ducked into the store hurriedly and nodded at the woman behind the register.
The store held the standard fare: snacks, magazines, and small items in the front, with several racks of clothing in the back. She moved to a rack of sunglasses near the front and pretended to be looking at several pairs. She turned the display so the mirror reflected the terminal and waited. A few minutes later, the red-haired woman appeared, walking slowly down the terminal scanning the crowd and stores. Panicked, Cassie looked around the store for somewhere to hide.
A display of long summer dresses on clearance in the back caught her eye. She moved quickly to the back of the store and when the woman at the register wasn’t looking, she pushed the dresses aside so she could duck into the middle of the display. Pulling her knees up, she tried to be as small and quiet as possible. It was hard to control the adrenaline flooding her system and keep her breathing steady. As she waited, she became very aware she had to use the bathroom. How could she have hidden in a toilet for so long and never thought to use it?
“Honey, can I help you?”
Cassie jumped in fright and nearly peed herself right there.
Looking down from above her was the woman from the register. Her face dropped into a deep frown. She probably thought Cassie was trying to shoplift or was some crazy person.
“I’m not stealing anything,” The words burst out of Cassie’s mouth.
The woman raised her eyebrows and continued to frown down at her.
“But I am hiding.”
“Who are you hiding from? You look too old to be a runaway. Someone trying to kidnap you? Maybe I should just call security.”
“No!” Cassie shot out a hand to grab the woman, paused, and then pulled it back slowly. “It’s my ex-boyfriend. I walked into him by accident in the terminal.”
The woman’s frown softened a little.
“What’s this ex-boyfriend look like and why is he chasing you? He a stalker?”
“Tall, older than me, in a dark jacket. He’s with a red-haired woman.”
“Red-haired woman, right. His new girlfriend?”
Cassie thought for a moment. “Umm, she’s his wife.”
The woman’s frown returned, and she made a tsking noise while shaking her head.
“Hey, I didn’t know he was married when I was dating him.”
“Hmm-mmm.” The woman pretended to shift some dresses around and surreptitiously glanced out into the terminal. “He have short dark hair? She’s in a dark pants suit?”
Cassie nodded.
“Yep, they’re standing out there talking. Seems like they’re still looking for you.” She pretended to adjust the dresses with her body partially blocking Cassie from the terminal. Then suspicion crept over her features. “While I get why she might want to get her hands on you, I don’t see why he’d be helping her do it.”
“Well, when I found out he was married, I took a baseball bat to his new car. He was ... extremely attached to it.” Ironically, Cassie mused that story would have been fairly accurate if the man had been her actual ex-boyfriend.
“Seems to me like the wife would be happy about that.”
“Well,” She struggled for inspiration. “I went back and did the same thing to her car.” She looked up at the woman with wide repentant eyes. “I don’t take rejection well.”
“Then I heard he told his wife I was a crazy stalker and obsessed with him. She wants to confront me.”
The woman stared at her expressionlessly before grunting a response and shaking her head again. “Well, I suppose I can accept that, but you’ve got to have more respect for yourself. You’re a cute girl, you can do better. He’s way too old for you and married to boot.”
Cassie nodded and looked down at the floor, trying to look sad and apologetic. The urge to smile was almost uncontrollable, however.
The woman moved away for several seconds then came back. “They’re gone. They moved east down the terminal. It’s safe to come out.” The woman parted the dresses and Cassie climbed out.
“Thank you. I really appreciate the help and the advice.” She smiled at the woman who was headed back to the register. Cassie was about to walk cautiously back out into the terminal when a thought occurred to her. She went back in and selected a pair of sunglasses and a hooded sweatshirt which said Chicago across it. She laid them on the counter, handing the woman the cash card Dale had given her.
“Smart girl,” the woman rang up the order.
She put on the sweatshirt and pulled the hood up. She put the sunglasses into her pocket. Inside the terminal they might make her stand out and draw more attention. Glancing around she left the store and headed west down the terminal.
