# SPDX-FileCopyrightText: 2022 Jason Self # SPDX-License-Identifier: AGPL-3.0-or-later # # You can redistribute and/or modify this story under the terms of the # GNU Affero General Public License as published by the Free Software # Foundation, either version 3 of the License, or (at your option) any # later version. # # You should have received a copy of the GNU Affero General Public # License along with this story. If not, see # . ==== Harlan: Thief ==== Harlan had been sitting on the edge of the roof for the past hour, waiting for Mellie. She always walked this way after she got off work and he could keep an eye on her. The streets and especially the alleys were dangerous away from APD headquarters. This was about as close as he dared come to the headquarters complex. Too many cameras, too many infrared imagers seeking live sources. Those few blocks to the complex were safe, particularly for detectives. Mellie was one of the best. She could take down four or five attackers. But sometimes there were more, hiding in the crevasses of the alleys, crouching behind trash disposals, hanging from second floor windows. That's why Harlan waited. He would not allow anyone to harm her. Dark brown eyes thoughtful, he sucked on a dopestick, peppermint flavored, while he waited. The mild euphoria helped the time pass. His sneaker clad feet hung over the edge, three stories up. He glanced up at the sky where a myriad of stars twinkled in the night. There wasn't much light pollution since electricity was a precious commodity on this planet. Neither of the two tiny moons were in the sky tonight. Rapid footsteps, soft, but firm, came down the alley. Mellie passed underneath his position as he slid back onto the roof. Her head turned right to left as her eyes scanned the area on both sides and in front. She spun suddenly, walking backward, so that she could scrutinize the section behind her. Harlan hugged the shadows, holding his breath. Her eyes flicked over him and went on. Facing forward again, she continued her walk. An Agalderan rodent, a puvu, which looked a lot more reptilian than mammalian, scurried across the alley in front of her. She ignored it. The animal turned to face the human, its shape a little odd. Harlan moved before he thought, swinging down from the roof to a balcony and from there to the ground in front of Mellie. He kicked the puvu up through the air, pivoted, and threw Mellie to the ground, his body covering hers. The puvu exploded with a loud bang and a hail of nails and staples. Harlan grunted. Mellie pushed him off and examined his back. There were several holes in his tunic, all becoming bloodier by the second. He tried to get up but didn't make it. "You complete idiot!" she snapped. "Now what am I going to do with you?" "Marry me?" he asked. She got him to his feet and with an arm draped over her shoulder, they started down the alley again. Her condo was on the 36th floor. They could take the elevator to the 35th floor but had to walk up to the 36th. Elevators only stopped every 5 floors. Harlan was thankful that it was only one floor. She had a great view from one of the windows. The other windows looked out on the walls of the adjacent apartment complexes with their myriad windows. Sometimes a person would appear in one of the windows, but most of the time, the windows were closed and shaded. She made Harlan lie down on the sofa and got his shirt off. He had six holes in the skin of his back. She could see the metal shards sticking out from three of them. Taking out the shrapnel was punctuated by swearing and groans from Harlan. She cleaned the wounds and wrapped his chest. Then she made him a drink. As she sat beside him, her bright blue eyes evaluated him. She said "I suppose I should thank you for saving my life. But I'm just so mad at you for risking your own life and my cover that I can hardly speak." She took a gulp of her own drink. He rolled on his side and looked at her. She was staring out over the lights of the city, avoiding his gaze. "You have risked everything we've worked for. If I had been killed, it wouldn't have interfered with the plan. But if someone was watching, if someone saw your incredible theatrics, they will be adding two and two and getting 144." Her voice was rising in volume. "You're an idiot!" Harlan looked up at her and sighed. "I love you." Gently pushing her off the sofa, he managed to sit up with a lot of groaning. "There is no way I could stay on that roof and watch you be blown apart." He started to pull his bloody shirt back on. "So deal with it." She took the shirt from him and opened a closet. Pulling out a bag, she handed it to him. "I bought this for you a while ago. It should fit you." He put on the shirt. Looking in a mirror, he nodded. "I have to go. Thanks for patching me up." He walked to the door. "Oh. You never answered my question. Will you marry me?" She threw a pillow at him. Heading back to the same alley where the explosion took place, he came to a stop a block away. There were cops all over the place. He took to the roofs, approaching silently. Lt. Marks, Mellie's boss was standing by the burn scars on the building. He was speaking softly, but Harlan's hearing was excellent. "...know she was here." He waved a hand at the alley. "She came down from there. She must have been no more than twenty feet from the explosion. We should be looking at her body. But we aren't." He looked at his sergeant. "I want to know what happened here and I want to know tonight. Understand?" The sergeant nodded with a weary expression on his face and turned away. "Yessir." Harlan moved away, heading back to the streets and Emerald Hall. Santori, the head of the Resistance, needed to know about this. They might want to pull Mellie back to the Hall. Her cover might be broken. Mellie was right. The plans of the Resistance for reunification of the planet were more important than any one life. Except Mellie's. ==== Mellie: Detective ==== Melandra Kaminsky was the lowest of the low on the totem pole of detectives. At least in Homicide Division. She probably ranked a little higher than a few in Robbery or Vice. But she was new and young and had been naive at times. Harlan had helped her claw her way up the ladder in the department. He was the best man she had ever known. That's why she had taken Harlan back to her condo. That's why she was in love with him. She cursed herself frequently. Why had she picked a damn thief to fall for? Why not one of the detectives? Because the detectives were a bunch of crooked, arrogant losers and she hated them, one and all. For crying out loud, Harlan was the most ethical, moral man she had ever met. Except for the stealing, of course. He was also the bravest, smartest, and most impossible human being she knew. She had run across him when she was part of Robbery Division. He was supposed to be the best cat burglar in town. He had even robbed the Mayor! So when she showed up for the weekly, sometimes irregular, Resistance meeting, she was shocked to see Harlan drinking a mug of coffee and talking to Santori, the Head of the Resistance, usually called "Boss". Although she knew there were thieves, even servants and homeless in the group, she had thought Harlan would think himself above the petty politics of Agalder. She cornered him after the meeting and told him that his position in the Resistance made no difference. She was going to put him away. He just grinned at her and told her she was free to try. Boss came up to them at that point and told her that she was to lay off Harlan. He was too important to the Resistance. Harlan and Mellie both began complaining that she had to do her job or raise suspicions. Santori raised his eyebrow and asked "You want her to chase you?" Harlan grinned "She couldn't catch a hen in a chicken coop." Mellie had begun yelling at the thief when the "Boss" silently folded his tents and slipped away. Harlan seemed to enjoy the tirade. When she slowed down, he commented "You have a hell of a vocabulary." and walked away. And all she could do was sputter. She continued to try to trap the thief, but every plan she developed fell through. She'd see him grinning at her from across the air shafts between tenements or from the other side of the river. Then she caught him. Actually he caught her. He was sitting in a chair, waiting for her when she burst into the apartment. She heard a click as the door locked behind her. He ignored her gun and poured her a glass of wine. When she got over being furious, they talked, really talked, for hours. He let her go after kissing her thoroughly. She found that she couldn't think of anything else than Harlan, much to her annoyance. She dropped her obsession with the thief and started piling up arrests. Her case clearance rate climbed until it beat everyone else's. The Mayor gave her a commendation (and groped a feel at the same time). She appeared to be the darling of the department. And now somebody wanted her dead. When her partner, John Behan, a fiftyish balding man with a paunchy stomach, and two other detectives showed up at her apartment, she admitted to having been at the site of the explosion. She had come up with a story that fit the facts although it was a bit farfetched. Noting the raised eyebrows, she simply told them she'd see them at headquarters and shoved them out of her apartment. They couldn't exactly arrest her for not being murdered, so they left. The next morning, she got to headquarters very early, took the first case to come in, and got out before day shift showed up. When she brought in her catch of the day, a wife killer, the other shift had gone home. She kept this up for several days until her colleagues gave up trying to pin something on her for not being killed. Mellie ignored her partner and his buddies. She wasn't part of the 'old boys' network' and never would be. She did her work and did it well. The Captain seemed to happy with her. And as she walked the grimy streets of Crater City, she felt a presence at her back and knew it was Harlan. She also felt the ghosts of the hundreds of thousands of people who had died on this planet. It was for those uneasy spirits that she had joined the Resistance. It was for them that she sought justice. ==== Captain Tavis: Chief, Agalder Police Department (APD) ==== Sam Tavis was an honest cop and had been amazed when he had progressed up the ranks so rapidly. He had expected his stubborn ethics would cause trouble and hold him back at some point. But his immediate superior had been a brilliant man and recognized the importance of having a totally trustworthy subordinate who could be duped into thinking that the Crater City Police Department was free of corruption. That had worked well until the time came when Tavis was faced with an untenable situation: support his boss or let a dozen innocent people die. He had saved the potential victims and his boss had died. The police force was turned inside out to find corrupt cops. Now he had a good group. He was pretty sure most of them were honest. He was almost totally certain about Mellie Kaminsky. She was as straight an arrow as he had ever seen. But there was something she hadn't told him. Now she was dodging any questions about what happened in the alley three nights ago. It wasn't like her and he was worried. He walked the same route she had that night through the safe zone around the headquarters, then into the dark alleys of Hollowtown, the area to the west of APD headquarters. He knew he was crazy to wander these alleys alone, but he had to see for himself. Garbage was piled high along the sides of the buildings. Some people just threw their refuse at the disposal openings and walked away, even if the noisome waste splattered against the side of the building. The openings to the trash disposals weren't all covered. He shuddered as he thought what could happen if a child climbed in there. Movement to his right caught his attention and he turned, drawing his laser gun. A shadow appeared farther down the alley. He had started in that direction, moving slowly and carefully when the knife entered his back silently and sliced through his spinal cord. He dropped like a discarded puppet, regretting that he wouldn't have time to finish his work. He looked at the shoes next to him as a hand reached over him and twisted the knife. Then his eyes only saw eternity. ==== Harlan: Thief ==== Harlan was the one who found him. He was heading to his rooftop guarding position the following morning when he saw the body. Thieves had made off with his gun, identification, badge, and wallet, but Harlan knew Sam Tavis. He sat on the ground, legs splayed out, back against the wall and didn't move for a long time. Mellie found him in the same position forty minutes later as she walked to work. At first she thought they both were dead. Then she saw the tears on Harlan's face. He didn't respond at first when she knelt beside him. Finally his eyes flicked to hers. He leaned forward and stood up. Looking down at her, he said "Put in the call. Don't mention me. They'll know I was here, but say I was gone when you got here." He didn't touch her, just turned and fled into the warren of alleys. She watched him go with eyes that were also brimming with tears. ==== Lt. Marks - Chief of Detectives ==== Looking down at the body of Sam Tavis, Jason Marks felt a deep sorrow. His naturally dark eyes were even darker than usual. His thinning hair was blowing in the cold wind that prowled this place. He'd been expecting this for years. Tavis had been an honest cop. And a stubborn one. The man had stood up to mafia bosses and leaders of cartels, to politicians and other cops. He'd never bent. Marks had known this would happen eventually. There were too many bad guys in the world. He knelt beside his friend and carefully removed the pendant around Tavis' neck. The chain was gold as was the rim around the stone, a dark brown, clear quartz from the Cairngorm Mountains in Scotland on Earth. He was surprised the thieves who had taken everything else, including his shoes and tie, hadn't stolen this. But he was glad to see it. Tavis and he had talked about death and the talisman that he now held no more than a couple of months ago. Sam had told him to give it to Mellie in case of his death and to tell her to pass it on to the one she loved. It belonged to her lover, the captain had said. Her lover would be next in line, but he refused to say who the man was or what he was in line for. He did say to pass it on with his blessing and his love, which confused Marks even more. Mellie was standing by a carryall, a self-operating vehicle that could carry either people or cargo. It would carry Sam Tavis to the morgue. He walked over to her and in a few brief sentences, told her what Tavis had charged him to do. He gave her the pendant and turned away to a group of detectives, examining a spot next to the body. The men were bent over, talking very softly with each other, looking at recorders that they held in their hands. "What have you found?" he asked. They looked up and spread out, making room for him. He realized that Mellie had followed him and noticed that they did not make enough room for her. He reached back and drew her into the circle, the others stepping back grudgingly. John Behan glanced at Mellie, then addressed Marks. "Someone was sitting here for quite a while. Close to an hour. Didn't move. Just sat there." Marks raised an eyebrow. "Do we have an identification?" "No, sir." another detective said. "But we should be able to come up with a name within the next couple of hours." Marks looked at Millie. "Was there anyone here when you arrived?" She shook her head. "I thought I heard footsteps running off, but by the time I checked for a pulse, I had no idea which alley to check." They all looked at the alleys. Five met in a conjunction, making a space larger than a couple of condos put together. Each of the alleys led off into darkness, three curving away, two leading straight out. Alex Biggers slammed his fist into a tossed away piece of sheetrock. "Why in hell was he down here by himself?" Marks looked down at his dead friend, then glanced at Mellie. "I want a name on my desk in the morning." he said as he stomped off down the alley. ==== John Behan: Detective ==== John Behan used to be the rising star of the Homicide Division. He had been young, buff, and ambitious. Before Agalder and especially Crater City had been forcibly returned to the Paleozoic Era, he had been optimistic about his future. He married a wonderful woman and they had talked of having children. But then this world, his world, fell apart. Alys was killed. An accident they said. But she was gone. Nothing left of her but pictures and memories. One of those memories crossed his mind and he smiled for just a moment. Biggers dropped a file in front of him and Alys disappeared into the recesses at the back of his mind. Biggers was only in his thirties, while Behan was forty-five now. "Don't strain yourself with this one, John." he said as he swaggered off. The younger guys considered Behan the 'Old Man'. Cocky bastard. he thought as he opened the file on his computer. The white screen went black for at least twenty seconds before it stabilized. He grimaced, mumbling "Piece of crap." A vid appeared on the screen. A young man with dark hair and dark eyes looked back over his shoulder as he raced up a fire escape that was missing several rungs. He practically flew up to the roof. Dressed in black tunic and jeans, he blended well with the dark building. But Behan knew that face. Harlan. The thief Mellie had been so obsessed with - until she wasn't. He wondered what had changed her mind. On the screen, a drone followed Harlan as he ran across roofs, jumped between buildings, slid down pipes, and scaled ladders. The drone was the only cop to keep up with him. Behan wondered why they hadn't turned loose the robots. Those hounds could have caught him. Of course, they were likely to tear him apart when they caught him. Maybe the bosses wanted him alive and undamaged. The drone dived and tried to hit Harlan on the back of the head. Harlan, however, wasn't cooperative. He ducked at the last moment and swung something black. The drone went offline. Behan leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. That man was just too smart and too fast. He knew the city well and rarely ventured into the suburbs. Except that time that he had robbed the Mayor. The thief had stolen a statuette, reported to have been brought from Earth, a fat little guy with his belly button showing, sitting cross-legged with a silly smile on his face. The statue was supposed to be made of gold with jewels in the little guy's clothes and a big, fat diamond in his hands. Behan's lips curled upwards. The Mayor had been hopping mad. But the Mayor was an asshole. Most of the force had thought the episode funny, especially since Harlan had been so careful not to hurt anyone. The Mayor had tripled the security at his mansion. You'd think that when Harlan returned the statue without tripping any alarms, the Mayor would be grateful. No. The asshole went berserk. He'd come screaming into Sam Travis' office and thrown his hat at the Chief. Behan had been close by and he'd opened the Chief's door, causing the apoplectic Mayor to turn and stare at him. Behan had ignored the Mayor, asking the Chief. "Problem, Captain?" Tavis had grinned. "No. But thanks, John." Even now, with Tavis gone, that memory brought a feeling of pride. Biggers came back, a big grin on his face. "I knew it!" he crowed, waving a fax sheet. "The sitter, the person who spent nearly an hour sitting next to the Chief's body, was Harlan." He tossed the sheet on Behan's desk. "I had a feeling that thief was the one. He musta killed the chief. You think?" Behan ignored the question. The vibration report definitely identified Harlan as the individual who had sat, unmoving, next to Sam Tavis. He spoke without realizing it. "Like he was keeping vigil." "What?" asked Biggers. "What's a vigil?" "A time spent in prayer or grief, watching over something or someone." answered Behan. He stood up. Biggers backed off. "But why would that punk Harlan keep this vigil thing over the Chief?" Behan ignored him as he headed for the door. He found Melanie at her condo. He could see that she had been crying when she let him in. He took off his coat and put it on the couch, then sat beside it. "Mellie. We've got to talk. It's this Harlan guy, isn't it? You're in love with him. Are you helping him?" Mellie's head whipped around and she stared at her partner, face pale, eyes wide. Behan watched her. "You know, babe. I've got a lot more experience catching out liars than you have. You're not particularly good at this. You lied when you said no one was there when you found Captain Tavis. Harlan was there." He stood up, towering over her. "Wasn't he?!" he yelled in her face. Mellie backed up, looking frightened. Her hand came up to her mouth, and for a horrible moment, Behan thought she had a suicide pill. But she was just frightened and he took a deep breath. His voice dropped to a gentle whisper. "You love him, don't you?" Her eyes were full of tears as she nodded. "Why did he sit by the Chief's body for nearly an hour this morning? And where is he now?" Behan asked. "I don't know. All I know is that he was sitting by the Chief, holding his hand, crying. They had some sort of relationship and Harlan clearly loved him. He saw me and stood up, told me to call for help, and left. I don't know where he is or where he lives." She walked to the window, looking out at the city. "I know almost nothing about him except his beliefs. We've talked about morality and ethics." She turned back to him. "He's a good man, John. And, yes. I love him." Behan nodded. "Give him a message for me. Tell him that we need to talk. Soon. And set it up." He reached out, patted her on the shoulder, and left. ==== Harlan: Thief ==== He ran the roofs blindly. The world blurred past as the tears kept coming. He had never felt pain like this and he couldn't outrun it. His chest was tight and his breath came in short gasps, intermixed with sobs. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. They hadn't had enough time together, not nearly enough, not since they had started playing their parts in this goddamn drama. His father the Chief of Police, he a common thief. Well, not common. His lips quirked. It had been nearly nine years since they had been father and son, except for stolen minutes now and again. Harlan sometimes surprised his father in the middle of the night, waking him from sleep for a ten minute chat. Usually scared the hell out of his dad, especially since the Chief lived on the eighteenth floor. But there was a balcony and that made it easy for Harlan, although his father never understood. He reached his home, an abandoned house on the north side of the city. He had managed to find a bed and a chair and a table. Home was always a temporary abode. He moved his residence frequently and kept it simple. Now he sat at the table and stared at a wall, not thinking, mind totally blank. It was hours later when he woke up. He had laid his head on the table and fallen asleep. The pain came crashing back down and he grunted. But it was time to find out what happened. In a little while he would sudz, depilate, and change clothes. There were people to visit. ==== Alfie Gallagher: Thief and general all around thug ==== Alfie Gallagher didn't have a lot of friends. Not necessarily because of his job, his work for the Syndicate. It was mainly because Alfie was a miserable excuse for a human being. He was a not too bright psychopath, a man who would have slit his mother's throat for a ten spot. In fact, he had done exactly that. In addition, he didn't wash very often. Sitting alone in the Rusty Blade, a rundown bar not very far from Harlan's temporary lair, Alfie was surprised when Diego Farley sat down across from him. Diego was a runner for the Syndicate. "Cassidy wants to see you." said the slim young man. The violaceous scar that ruined his right face twitched. "He's got a job for you." Farley started to rise from his chair, but Alfie grabbed his arm. "What kind of job?" Farley yanked his arm away, wiping it on his jacket as if something dirty had gotten on it. "How should I know? The big ones don't exactly consult me, now do they?" and he turned away. Alfie sat for another twenty minutes, then he dropped a coin on the table and left. The job was not to his liking. Cassidy was second-in-command to the Syndicate's Number One, Chas Hawkins. He had given Alfie his assignment and started back toward the big house when Alfie sputtered "But how am I gonna kill this guy if nobody knows where he is, where he lives. Nobody knows nothin'. I need some help." Cassidy looked back at the unshaven man with hair hanging in his eyes and the same clothes he'd been wearing for four days. "If you want to obtain information, take a sudz, clean up, shave, cut your disgusting hair, and then ask. No one wants to talk to a streetie." and he disappeared into the crowd. Alfie cleaned up. He rented a hole at the spaceport where passengers could sudz and sleep. He had stolen some clothes from the mission store. When he looked in the mirror after he shaved, he could barely recognize himself. He even brushed his teeth. He returned to the big house that served as Hawkins' headquarters here in the city. He found Cassidy in a large room overlooking what used to be a rose garden. The blackened plants were being removed by a couple of men in dark green one piece uniforms. Cassidy glanced at the two men sitting with him and they stood and left. Alfie sat down across a small table from the Second. "Okay. Now I'm clean and pretty. Tell me." Cassidy's lips quirked. "You can find him two houses down from the Blind Rat Tavern toward the dock. I think he is holed up in the attic." He waved dismissal at Alfie, who stood and started toward the door. "And, Alfie." Cassidy's voice stopped him. "If you want to be part of this organization, you will stay clean and pretty." ==== Harlan: Thief ==== The very soft sound of glass breaking far below woke him. He stood up from the table where he had fallen asleep again. A loose board below the shuttered window allowed him a small view of the street. His eyebrows rose. There were at least a dozen black clothed figures starting to enter the house. They must really want him this time. He reached over the table and pulled on a cord. A loud crashing followed by screams and loud cursing came from the first floor as a large part of the ceiling collapsed. Harlan smiled. He pushed a button next to the door. More yelling and cursing. A kitchen timer sat on the table. Harlan set it for three minutes, replaced it, and slipped out a trap door that led to the roof. He disappeared into the dusk as the third trap was sprung. ==== Lt. Marks: Chief of Detectives ==== Exasperated wasn't nearly a strong enough word, Jason Marks thought. Perhaps infuriated would cover it. He stood looking at the filthy, dust covered, bruised and scraped squad he had sent to pick up Harlan. They'd gotten his location and put the op together in a hurry. There was no way the thief could have known they were coming. Yet he had thwarted them and was gone. No one was seriously hurt. Harlan was like that, careful. He apparently didn't want to cause harm to anyone. But he was probably laughing on his way out the window. ==== Alfie Gallagher: Thief, Apprentice Assassin ==== Alfie got to the house in time to see a squad of the APD Elites going in the door. He watched for a while and heard the ceiling collapse in the hallway and the stairs crumple as they started to climb. He had to grin even as he thought that he might have been the one buried under the dust and dirt and what passed for spiders and bugs on this world. A cloud of dust spewed forth from the door and Alfie slid into the darkness. ==== Mellie: Detective ==== When Mellie opened the door and found Harlan leaning against the wall outside, eyes swollen and red, she said nothing. She simply took his arm and brought him inside. After steering him to the couch, she programmed drinks for both of them and then sat beside him. "He was your father, wasn't he?" she said softly. Harlan turned to her, eyes widening. "How did you find out?" Mellie smiled. "Just a good guess. You look alike in some ways. And you share his world view." He looked down into his drink, swirling the liquid around in the glass. "He was the best man I ever knew. We argued a lot, but he always kept it friendly, even humorous." His voice broke. "God, I loved him." She put her hand on his arm and leaned into him. "I loved him, too. He helped me so many times." Harlan turned and gathered her into his arms and they sat that way for a long time, sharing their grief. Harlan left early in the morning before dawn. He had to find Santorini and report. Mellie watched him go, the tears still on her cheeks. ==== Santorini: "Boss" of the Resistance ==== Santorini was still asleep when Harlan bypassed his security detail and shook him awake. "What the fuck?!" yelled the Boss. Three guards exploded through the door, guns raised. They grabbed Harlan and started to hustle him out of the room when Santorini stopped them. "But, Boss. He's an intruder. We have to..." "You have to figure out how he got in here. But leave him alone. He was just showing off." The Boss and Harlan watched the disgruntled guards leave before they spoke. "How the flaming Hell did you get in here?" Santorini hissed. Ignoring the question, Harlan continued staring at the door. Silently he stepped closer and yanked the door open. One of the guards stood, hunched over, an eavesdropper attached to the wood, extending to his ears. Harlan tore the device out of the man's ears, eliciting a yell of pain, ripped it off the wood, and slammed the door in the guard's face. He turned to the Boss. "I would change my guard detail if I were you." he said. But Santorini was already throwing the door open. The guards were backing off, blood running from the ears of one. "Jackson!" he bellowed. In seconds another guard appeared in a sleepfit, with a dart gun in his hand, two others behind him. "Take these three into custody. I will question them later." the Boss snarled and closed the door. "How?" he asked, looking at Harlan. "One guard asleep. Another alert but looking in the wrong direction for a couple seconds too long. And I'm just skinny enough to fit through the air vents." Harlan shrugged. "It was easy." Santorini ran his hand through his thinning hair. "You will drive me crazy eventually." He stood and walked to the window. He stood looking out for a full minute. When he spoke, his voice was soft. "I'm so sorry about your father, Harlan. He wasn't just one of the best men I've ever met, he was my friend." He turned and Harlan saw that his eyes were shining with unshed tears. "Do you have any ideas why he was killed?" Harlan shook his head. "He certainly had enemies enough. The Syndicate is probably celebrating tonight because of his death. The Hideout 12 group are another possibility. We may have found their lair, but we still don't know much about them. We need to take members of that group alive to gather information. I have heard rumors of the thieves organizing as well." He frowned and rubbed his hands over his face. "Something big is going on and I haven't heard anything that lets me get a handle on it." He looked at the Boss. "The APD Elites paid me a visit tonight. I got out only because I had set up the traps." Santorini smiled. "I heard about that. Apparently Marks came close to having a stroke when the squad came stumbling back in, bruised and covered in dust. The Elites are going to have to work a lot in order to recover their shining reputation." The two men shared an amused grin. Harlan sat down on the edge of the bed. There were no chairs in the room. It was too small. Santorini refused to accept the ostentatious display of the previous 'Boss'. "Tell me about the raid on Hideout 12." said Harlan. "Do we know whose stronghold it was?" Santorini shook his shaggy head. "There are so many of the survivor gangs out in the wilds, it could be any one of them. We got lucky. This group was pretty sophisticated. They carved that place out of the obsidian formed during the Iron Wars. It means the tunnels wander up and down and the rooms are odd shapes, but the camouflage is great." Harlan leaned forward. "Why can't we turn that place into a trap for the Syndicate? We could drop a few hints about our new fortress where we keep our arsenal. I bet we could pick up a few Syndicate rats pretty easily." The Boss looked down at his hands. "Maybe. The idea has some merit. Let me think about it." ==== Alfie: Thief, Would-be Assassin ==== Everyone knew the approximate location of the Emerald Palace, the headquarters for the Resistance. So Alfie just wandered down the nearest street and set himself up when he had a good view of the undulating roof. Three hours later a figure appeared on the roof. Using his monoc, Alfie could see that it was Harlan. He lined up the shot as the best of the thieves looked around and then pulled his collar up. Gently, gently Alfie squeezed the trigger. The ancient sharpshooter rifle bucked into Alfie's shoulder and spat forth a bullet. The sound was deafening. Harlan dropped like a puppet whose strings have been cut. ==== Alfie: Thief, Assassin ==== Alfie broke down the rifle and packed it in a bag of groceries. He put the wig and scarf back on and within three minutes, as the Resistance fighters poured out onto the street, an overweight grandmother passed by, staring at them with open curiosity. When he reached the little trail into the park, he disappeared along a faint trail that led to a clearing. By the time Alfie reached the clearing, he had discarded his female disguise, turning the raincoat inside out and ripping off the lower half to form a leather jacket. His wig turned inside out to become a leather cap and the scarf went around his neck. The grocery bag and every other scrap of material went into sacks on either side of an air runner with lots of chrome. He looked like every other air rider. Totally forgettable. He walked the machine out to the street, waited until the road was clear both ways and slipped out of the woods and down the lane unseen. ==== Santorini: Boss of the Resistance ==== Jackson burst into Santorini's office about fifteen minutes after Harlan left. "Harlan's been shot!" he yelled. Santorini knocked over the lamp as he rushed from the room. "Where is he?" "They're bringing him down from the roof now." was the answer. The Boss skidded to a stop and turned around, facing Jackson. "Is he alive?" he asked in a softer voice. Jackson shook his head, his face somber, saying "I don't know." Santorini caught up with the medics as they reached the ground floor and started running down the corridors. The Boss raced alongside. Harlan had a breathing tube in his pharynx and a machine was assisting his respirations. His face was almost as pale as the white sheets and sweat dripped off him. His eyes were closed. The Boss called out to the head medic. "Mason. Did he say anything?" Mason didn't slow his pace or turn around. He called out over his shoulder. "He was unconscious when we got there, Boss. He wasn't even breathing. Sorry." Santorini dropped out and watched the group careen around the corner into the corridor that opened out into the clinic. He stood catching his breath for a minute and then turned back to his office. Getting his assistant on his wrist phone, he called for all the surveillance recordings in the area as well as overhead satellite and traffic cams. He also ordered teams of investigators, including robot cops, to start canvassing the neighborhood. An hour later they found footage of what happened on the roof. But all they saw was the muzzle flash. They triangulated it and found the spot the shooter had chosen for the ambush. Vibration evidence was sketchy since the spot was in a little garden and the plants interfered with the detectors. However, a preliminary id was consistent with the readings from a known thief named Alfie Gallagher. The word went out that the Boss wanted to 'speak' to this Alfie Gallagher. ==== Alfie: Thief ==== Alfie reported to Cassidy after shooting Harlan, but the man wanted proof of death. Alfie's description of the exceptional thief's demise wasn't sufficient. Alfie was seething. He stomped out of the big house and returned to his condo where he threw the wig/cap across the room. He was furious but not stupid. He wanted to get drunk but knew it would be counterproductive. The place to start would be the place he used for the shot, but when he got close, the area was crawling with Resistance techs. He backed off quietly and hurried down the hill. The fact that the Resistance had a forensic team scouring the area where he had been was evidence in itself that Harlan was dead. He was fairly sure that Cassidy wouldn't accept that conclusion, but he sent a coded message to the Second-in-Command. He worked his way back around the Emerald Palace to a house where he could watch the activity from a rooftop. Like some other houses still in use, this one had a makeshift chimney, added when the Iron Wars destroyed the energy net that had surrounded the planet, Alfie climbed a lattice slowly and quietly to the roof. He cursed under his breath as he climbed, muttering. "You'd think they'd make roses thornless after all these centuries." Then as he pulled up onto the roof, a slightly louder "Ouch!" Settling behind the chimney, he put on his monoc and prepared to wait. The wait was short. In fifteen minutes, a small woman in a forensics smock walked up to the house and activated the bell. Alfie could hear voices from below but couldn't make out the words. But the result was that a man came out of the house with an expanding ladder and leaned it against the edge of the roof. The ladder flowed upward, gripping the roof tightly, Alfie heard the woman thank the householder, who replied that he would be inside if she needed anything. Then there was silence as the woman climbed up to the roof. She stood up when she reached the top and began scanning the area with a high tech binoc. The appliance limited her near vision. Alfie slipped out of hiding and applied a drug spray gun to her exposed neck, then eased her down as she lost consciousness. To Alfie, it seemed that she weighed almost nothing. He threw her over his shoulder, collected his gear, and carefully walked to the opposite side of the roof. The roof of the neighboring home was only two meters away. He threw his gear bag across the gap, then tossed the woman over. She landed with a heavy 'thunk'. Alarmed, he waited several minutes before crossing over himself. From that roof, he was able to drop down three feet to a small garden behind the house. Using alleys and back gardens, he made his way to the edge of the wilderness. Then, having sent a second message to Cassidy, he sat and waited. Cassidy would want to talk to the forensics woman.