Two of the men wore light ballistic flex-armor and full-face helmet rigs, with stubby shotguns mag-locked to their backs. The pilot had seen their type before, usually on patrol through the rougher parts of the Jiu Shichang
district in Lower Hengsha; troopers from Belltower, the big mercenary contractor that handled most of the city’s security. Something about them always set her off, the blunt swagger the troopers put in their walk. The stylized bull-head logo of the PMC appeared on the shoulders of their armor; and it was there on the tactical gear of the third man as well.
Dark skinned, with a cast to his features that suggested Indian or North African extraction, the third man was clearly in charge. He was a head taller than his escorts, clad in high-impact armor plate that looked better suited for a front line combat zone than urban operations. He fairly towered over Cheng, who recovered as best he could at the unexpected arrival.
“Mister Khan,” began Cheng, sweat beading on his forehead. “I’m just finalizing the details with my pilots now. They’ll be departing momentarily.”
Khan gave an airy nod, surveying the Osprey before he glanced at Faridah and Evelyn. “I hope your crew understand we’re dealing with a high-value cargo here. We can’t afford any mistakes.”
Evelyn shot Faridah a look that communicated a shared disquiet, and disappeared back into the aircraft. “I’ll check the fuel levels.”
The big man held out a data pad to Faridah, and she took it, frowning as she read the flight plan details displayed there. “You want us to go here? These co-ordinates are out across the Yangtze river delta. That’s the edge of the East China Sea, there’s nowhere to land out there.”
“That’s not your concern,” Khan replied. He had a slow, measured manner that seemed to put the echo of a sneer into everything he said. “Just fly the plane.”
“What about the weather?” she insisted, using the pad to point at the sky. The rain was gentle, but the thick black clouds gathering to the East threatened much worse. “Because that really is my concern. This course will send us right into the teeth of a storm front.”
“Is that an issue? I was told you were a very good pilot, Ms. Malik.” Something about Khan knowing her name made Faridah’s gut twist. “I’d hate to think Cheng here was overselling you.”
“My crew will return with your cargo in short order,” Cheng insisted, shooting a warning look at Faridah. “The storm is still hours out.” She doubted her employer’s liberal prediction of the weather pattern, but clearly her opinions were going to carry little weight here.
Khan nodded to his men, and they stepped back. One of them cocked his head as he sub-vocalized into an implanted infolink.
“This transfer has to be supervised,” Khan continued. He pushed past Cheng and took a step toward the Osprey. The other man looked as if he was about to protest, but then Khan laid a heavy, lidded stare on him and Cheng swallowed his objection with a nod.
“We’re not exactly set up to carry passengers,” said Faridah.
“I’ll manage,” Khan demurred, then gestured at the hatch. “After you?”
Faridah’s jaw hardened and she climbed back aboard the Osprey. “Just don’t go looking for the flight attendant,” she said over her shoulder.
Khan gave her an indulgent smile and climbed in after her. Faridah felt the Osprey’s nose gear sink slightly as the big man set his weight onto the aircraft. She wondered about the armor he wore, and realized that whatever extra mass he was carrying, it was likely to be in the form of heavy-duty cybernetic limbs and sub-dermal implants. This guy’s a tank, she thought. Which begs the question – what’s he here to protect?
***
Faridah and Evelyn changed stations in the cockpit and she took the V-22 out from the ArcAir landing field,
letting the big triple-bladed rotors angle forward and slice into the damp air. Moving fast and true a hundred feet off the whitecaps coming in from the sea, Faridah shifted the angle of the wingtip props to level flight and eased the Osprey’s throttles forward. The chattering blades cut into the fine rain falling from the clouds that lead the bigger storm beyond, and despite a flight path that aimed them directly into a steady headwind, they made good time out from Hengsha. Still, the late morning looked like nightfall now, the rising sun that had welcomed Faridah as she jumped lost behind the veil of the oncoming storm.
She and Evelyn kept their conversation to a minimum, sticking to shop talk and call-outs as they left Hengsha airspace for the open sea. Neither of them really needed to say what they were thinking out loud, they knew each other well enough to read the emotions in small gestures or turns of the head. After take off, Evelyn had very deliberately glanced over her shoulder to the rear cabin, where Khan was riding out the bumpy flight in a folding seat. She toyed with her earlobe, made it look like an idle motion, but Faridah read it for what it really meant. He’s listening to us.
She gave a small nod. It stood to reason that if Kahn was a much a hanzer as Faridah thought he was, he probably had aural implants capable of snatching their conversation from among the noise of the VTOL’s rotors.
“How the temp?” she asked, nodding at the gauge for the replacement engine.
“Good,” Evelyn replied. “Would have liked to cool it down some first, but…” She trailed off, catching sight of something out beyond the Osprey’s nose. “What’s that? Your eleven o’clock?”
Faridah saw it, a slab-sided shape low against the waves, rising and falling in the growing swell. She glanced down at the digital notepad on the thigh of her flight suit, lit with the data Kahn had given her. “We’re coming up on the coordinates. Is this what we’re looking for?”
It was a cargo ship, an ugly brick of a vessel shouldering its way through the water, heavily laden with containers of varying sizes. They were approaching from the aft, and as Faridah’s eyes followed the churn of the ship’s wake
she saw a massive corporate sigil above a Panamanian flag and the vessel’s name; Bel Canto.
“XNG Shipping,” said Evelyn, reading the company identifier painted across the hull. “Judging by the heading, they’re on a course for Osaka. Guess they don’t have time to stop off in our town.”
“Yeah,” said Faridah quietly, “how about that.” She wondered what could be of interest to someone from Belltower on a ship sailing from Panama to Japan. Everything about this impromptu sortie was ringing a wrong note with her, and it bothered Faridah that she couldn’t see a pattern to it. Cheng was in the pocket of the Red Arrow, that was a given… But what connection did he or the triad have with Belltower and their erstwhile passenger? Did the PMC have the same kind of relationship with the triad that ArcAir did?
The questions rose up from that place inside Faridah Malik where she had been carefully hiding them away, unwilling to look too closely at the doubts she had about the city she had made her home.
Ahead on the mid-deck of the Bel Canto, a ring of lights snapped on, designating a landing area. “Can you put us down there?” said Khan, from the cockpit doorway.
Faridah stiffened in her seat. She hadn’t heard him approaching, and given his size, the fact he could be stealthy with it troubled her even more.
“Sure,” Evelyn was saying. “You shouldn’t be moving around the cabin, though.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“Whatever you say, pal,” said Faridah, and she deliberately dipped the Osprey’s nose sharply, forcing Khan to grab at the airframe to support himself. Turning the control yoke, she put the aircraft into a tight banking turn that crossed the Bel Canto’s mid-deck. Working the tilt-rotors, the pilot guided the Osprey down with a solid bump as the wheels touched the helipad.