Furious

18

Senior Chief Agent in Charge Foile of the Wardhaven Bureau of Investigation put on his coat. They’d gotten their serial killer before she killed her weekly victim. His computer was organizing all the evidence and preparing his report. He’d sign it in the morning and turn the complete package over to the county prosecutor. It would be nice to get home early at least once this week.

The chatter in the squad bay was happy, as was to be expected. His team prided themselves on always getting their man. This week’s “man” was a serial killer and a woman. They had a lot to be proud of.

“Hey, I got a hit on Princess Kristine,” Leslie Chu remarked. Leslie had met the woman once and become a fan of the Longknife princess, even if she did seem to get into more trouble than any woman could. Leslie’s computer was set to report anything on the net about the princess, and it had become a team joke as week after week passed without Leslie’s getting her princess fix.

“What’s that troublemaker up to now?” Agent Mahomet Debot asked.

“I don’t know. She’s just disappeared from wherever it was they sent her after her thing with the aliens,” Leslie said in a puzzled voice. Unusual for her.

“Isn’t there an arrest warrant out for her?” Rick Sanchez asked.

“She hasn’t done anything illegal,” Leslie said, jumping to her princess’s defense.

“Starting a war,” Mahomet offered.

“You’d have gone in shooting if you’d been there, and they fired first,” Leslie snapped.

“Boys and girls, let’s keep it professional,” Foile put in to lower the temperature.

“There’s been an arrest warrant issued for her,” Rick said, bringing said warrant up on the main screen in the squad bay.

“That’s not much of a warrant,” Mahomet said, noting that the code violation was blank. The write-up only added more vagueness to the whole thing.

“I’d hate to have to serve that if there was a lawyer present,” Rick said, and drew a grunt from everyone.

“Well, I’m going to make it home in time for supper tonight,” Foile said, and turned to go.

And was almost run down by the division chief’s personal assistant.

“Good, you’re still here. The Prime Minister wants to see you immediately.”

“Me?” Foile said. “Don’t you mean the boss?”

“No. He wants you. Now. The division chief says for you to report to her immediately when you return.”

“I take it that neither she nor you know what this is about.”

The personal assistant shook his head. “All they said was they wanted you, and they wanted you ten minutes ago. Go.”

Foile went. Outside the doors, he hopped one of the two wheelers. Usually, he preferred to walk. It was good exercise for a man his age and gave him time to think. With a summons from on high this vague and demanding, thinking would not be a good idea.

He wheeled through pedestrian traffic quickly for the four blocks from the Justice Ministry to the Prime Minister’s offices. He was greeted at the door by a rushed young woman who fairly snatched him off his ride and hustled him through normal security and into an elevator.

They arrived breathless in the foyer of the Prime Minister’s office, but the senior secretary there gave him no time to catch his breath as he ushered Foile into the Prime Minister’s presence and immediately closed the door.

It took all of two seconds for Foile to discover why even his private secretary did not want to share space with the Prime Minister.

“How could any bunch of imbeciles have screwed this up worse?” the Prime Minister demanded, waving several flimsies at Foile.

The agent took this for a rhetorical question and offered no answer as he closed the distance to the Prime Minister’s desk.

“I can’t believe that we’ve got idiots of this caliber working for my government. Heads are going to roll, I tell you. Heads will roll.”

Foile was glad that he wasn’t the subject of the Prime Minister’s anger. Unfortunately, he suspected his presence meant he was next in line to be added to whatever list was taking shape.

“You called for me?” Foile said. He’d rushed there; he strongly suspected whatever job awaited him would have a very short fuse. While it might be fun to watch the famously cool Billy Longknife explode, it was burning time.

“One and a half hours ago, ninety minutes, my daughter’s pet computer tried to attach to the Wardhaven net. Ninety minutes ago!”

Billy Longknife was also famous in his speeches for repeating for emphasis. Foile frowned. He did not need repetition.

“This is important how, sir?”

The Prime Minister opened his mouth, looking ready to explode at Foile, but then seemed to think better of it. He took several deep breaths and began again.

“We sent her someplace safe after that last fiasco. If she just stayed there until things blew over, matters could be made to work out. But no, she can’t stay put for two minutes. My daughter had to bust out of her safe planet, and now she’s charging around space, no doubt causing trouble with every step she takes.”

“You’ve issued a rather vague arrest warrant for her,” Foile put in.

“Yes, yes. What do you say about someone who can be everything from a public nuisance and pain in the neck to the center for undescribable public murder and mayhem?”

Foile admitted that was a problem by allowing himself a shrug.

“She’s here now, somewhere on Wardhaven. Find her, Agent. I’m told you are the best bloodhound in the Bureau. Find my daughter. Find her before she gets herself killed, please. Hopefully, before she gets a lot of other people killed, too.”

Foile heard this as a father’s plea. As a father himself . . . who would not be putting his kids to bed again tonight . . . he accepted the assignment. No doubt some would question the right of the Prime Minister to have WBI chasing down his daughter, but to Foile it was a simple matter.

Some judge had approved an arrest warrant. That was enough for him.

“Do we know where her computer tried to hitch into the net?” Foile asked, starting the process.

“On High Wardhaven. I bet she just arrived. The failed attachment took place in the dock area.”

“Then she’s very likely still there. If she’d tried to pay for passage on the space elevator or crossed any of the security areas, she would have been identified.”

“She’s a Longknife, Agent. Never forget that. She’s a Longknife, and I’d bet the next election that she’s already down here, breathing the same air you and I are.”

“I’ll take that under consideration, sir. Sir, we will need all the information that we can get about her background.”

That brought a frown to the Prime Minister’s face. “I figured you’d say that. I’ve ordered the release of her files to your team. It goes without saying that I don’t want to see some of the more racy parts blown all over the media tomorrow morning.”

“It goes without saying, sir, that my team will respect her privacy.”

“Do you need anything else?”

“I can’t think of anything at this time, sir.”

“Then find my daughter. For God’s sake, find her before she gets herself killed.”

That was the second time Billy Longknife had forecast his daughter’s death. It raised a red flag. “Is there some specific danger I should be aware of, sir?”

For a moment, the Prime Minister considered the question. For a moment, Foile thought he might be about to say something, but when he spoke, he fell back on the generic. “No. Nothing you need to be aware of. Just find her.”

“Yes, sir,” Foile said, wondering what he didn’t need to be aware of and whether or not it might kill him or his team along with the peripatetic princess.

As the senior chief agent in charge left the Prime Minister’s office, he was already tapping his commlink.

“Rick, keep the team together. We’ve got an assignment. Pull all the security coverage of High Wardhaven’s dock area. And tell Leslie that she’s about to learn more about her Longknife princess than she ever wanted to know.”