"You think the steering can handle two?"
Lathe wiggled the wheel experimentally. "Seems pretty tight," he said. "Especially since, as you say, there's hardly any other traffic, which means we can run it straight down the middle of the street where it'll have the most wiggle room."
Mordecai nodded. "Let's make it two, then."
A few minutes and three turns later Lathe once again stopped the car, this time in the middle of the cross street with the car pointed toward the special-access gate two blocks away. Mordecai was ready with the tie rope, and together they got the steering wheel anchored securely in place. "How fast do we want?"
Mordecai asked as he produced a pair of shuriken from his weapons pouch.
"Not very," Lathe said, pulling on his battle-hood and gloves. "They normally don't head in any faster than about thirty klicks per hour. We should probably run it a little slower than that."
"Okay." Crouching on the pavement beside the open driver's door, Mordecai pressed down experimentally on the accelerator with his hand, bringing the tachometer to the right spot and wedging one of the shuriken into the floor beneath the pedal. "Ready."
Lathe moved to the side and got a hand on the open door. "Go."
In a single smooth motion Mordecai shifted the car into gear, pressed the accelerator down against the shuriken he'd just placed, and then jabbed the other throwing star above it into the side of the center console, wedging the pedal firmly in place between them. The car leaped forward, and he just missed getting his arm slammed in the door as Lathe swung it closed. Rolling along at perhaps ten kilometers per hour, the car trundled its way down the street, heading straight for the gate. "And away we go,"
Lathe murmured, pulling out a pair of shuriken of his own.
Keeping to the shadows, the two blackcollars set off after the vehicle, setting their pace so that the car pulled slowly but steadily ahead. The car crossed the first street without incident ... crossed the second street, the one paralleling the wall, again without running afoul of other traffic ... headed into the indentation on its final approach to the gate, which according to Shaw's information should even now be opening.
Only it wasn't.
"Uh-oh," Lathe muttered, holding out a warning hand to Mordecai as he slowed to a walk.
The words were barely out of his mouth when, with a muffled crunching of metal and plastic, the car rolled almost leisurely into the closed gate. An instant later all four of the open windows exploded with thick black smoke from the bomb they'd set in the backseat.
"Looks like Galway recovered fast enough to make it back to the strongpoint," Lathe commented.
"Or else they normally shut down the transponder system at night," Mordecai said. "How much effort do you want to put into this?"
"Not that much," Lathe assured him, reaching to his tingler. Spadafora: withdraw to Point Two. "All I care about is that they now have some evidence that we're more interested in the government center than we are in getting into Khorstron. That should help keep Haberdae's own people battening down the hatches here instead of getting in our way."
The wall's outer lights were starting to come on as the two blackcollars ran lightly down the street away from the still-smoking car. Spadafora was waiting at the agreed-upon rendezvous point, with a car already hot-wired and ready. "That has to be the shortest mission on record," he commented as he pulled away from the curb. "Can we go home now?"
"Yes, let's," Lathe said, leaning back in the seat and closing his eyes. "It's been a very long day."
To Galway's mild surprise, Haberdae himself showed up at the strongpoint to pick him up. Or at least, he was surprised until he saw who the van's other passenger was.
"Dae the 'lackcollars now know e'erything?" Taakh demanded harshly as he strode through the door, the Security men who had gathered in the entryway room backing up hastily at his approach. He came to a halt a meter away from where Galway was sitting, glaring down at him.
"No, Your Eminence, they don't," Galway assured him. "They never got into the strongpoint, and they never asked either my escort or me what we were doing up here."
A little of the stiffness went out of Taakh's posture. "Yae are certain?"
"Absolutely," Galway said. "My driver can corroborate that."
"We were lucky," Haberdae murmured.
"I suppose you could say that," Galway agreed, a touch of cynicism coloring the pain in his stillthrobbing head and stomach. Of course Haberdae had volunteered to accompany Taakh out here—it was another opportunity to subtly remind the Ryq how much more capable and competent he was than the backwoods Plinry prefect who'd been foisted on him and had then been careless enough to let himself get ambushed by their enemies.
Only in this case, though Haberdae didn't know it, his self-preening tactic was about to blow up in his face.
And in fact, Taakh's very next question was the one Galway had known he would eventually ask. "Hor did yae allor they tae 'ollow yae here?" the Ryq asked, his eyes boring into Galway's.
"They didn't follow me, Your Eminence," Galway said calmly. "The guards have examined the sensor posts guarding the driveway, and they've found the same radioactive damage that's been inflicted on the Khorstron fence post. Spadafora has to have been here for at least the last day and a half."
"S'ada'ora?" Taakh repeated. "Yae said S'ada'ora ras at Khorstron."
"Apparently, we were mistaken," Galway said, forcing himself not to flinch beneath the Ryq's glare. "It must be one or more of Shaw's men there instead."
For a few seconds Taakh glared down at Galway in silence, apparently still working it through. "All others," he said at last. "Lea'e us."
The other Security men didn't need to be told twice. They filed out quickly and silently, clearly relieved at the chance to escape the explosive atmosphere. A minute later Taakh, Haberdae, and Galway were alone. "I' S'ada'ora ras here that long, he nust ha' 'ound it sone other ray," the Ryq continued, his gaze still on Galway. "Ex'lain."
"I don't know for certain," Galway said carefully. "But what Lathe told me was that they followed Prefect Haberdae up here two nights ago after our effort to capture Tactor Shaw."
Slowly, deliberately, Taakh turned to Haberdae. "Yae cane here?" he asked softly.
Haberdae's face had gone the color of sealant putty. "Yes, Your Eminence," he managed, his tongue stumbling over the words. "I ... wanted to talk to Caine. I thought he might know some tricks—when a blackcollar goes to ground, I thought he might know—"
"Yae cane here?" Taakh repeated. His hand was resting on his holstered laser, the large fingers curled around the weapon's grip.
"They couldn't have followed me, Your Eminence," Haberdae insisted, his voice shaking, his eyes trying valiantly to tear themselves away from the holstered laser. "It's impossible. I know how to watch for—"
"'Re'ect Galray ordered that no run ras tae cone here," Taakh cut him off. "Did yae not know that?"
Haberdae took a deep breath. "Yes, Your Eminence, I did," he said. His voice had gone calm, the voice of someone whose fate was no longer even marginally in his own hands. "I have no excuse."
For a long moment Taakh stood facing him in silence, his hand still gripping his laser. Galway watched, not daring to move, hardly daring to breathe.
And then, slowly and deliberately, Taakh took his hand off his weapon. "Yaer heart is in ny hand, 'Re'ect Ha'erdae," he said, stretching out his hand with the open palm upward. "Yaer li'e 'elongs tae ne."
Haberdae shivered. "I understand, Your Eminence," he managed.