I glanced up at Tommy Tsunami, who watched with an amused expression. I took a wary look around, but his bodyguards played cards at a nearby table, unconcerned. There were no assassins on standby, no double-cross about to happen.
"I guess our business is done, then."
He nodded. "For now. But when you come back for the pass, the price will double. Don't say I didn't warn you."
I laughed. "Double? That's everything you paid me. No pass is worth that much."
He tilted his head. "What about your life? How much is that worth?"
I took a startled step backward, hand immediately going to my KA-blade. Tommy just folded his arms with a dark laugh.
"I'm not going to kill you, Jinx. I don't have to. Did you ever wonder who your target was? Why I'd have to use a third party to move against her?"
"None of my business."
"You should have made it your business. Because you just attacked, kidnapped, and permanently maimed one of the most dangerous people on earth. And a member of the organization that controls every aspect of this Haven. An organization called the Gestalt, of which Selene is one of the top-ranking members." He shook his head. "She's out of the hospital now, you know. And she's not going to be happy about this. Not one bit."
I shivered, though the room wasn't cold at all. It felt like clammy fingers had reached from some underworld and caressed the back of my neck.
Tommy Tsunami slapped the Transit card against the palm of his hand. "Still not too late to take me up on my first offer."
I swallowed hard. "I'll take my chances."
His teeth flashed in a wolfish smile. "Good luck."
I don't know what's wrong with these people. A shootout and explosion at the Gaiden nightclub and no one blinks. Another exchange of gunfire left several bodies in the West Docks. Something was all over the net about a giant synoid on the loose, destroying people and property. An entire apartment complex went down in flames, also in the West Docks. Then more news about a prison riot that nearly got out of hand. Any other place I've been to would be cowering in fear from just one or two incidents. New Haven residents go about their business like nothing is wrong, and the night is still young. It gives credence to the stories of New Haven being a conglomerate for criminal enterprise. Nothing can faze this place because lawlessness is the only law that counts.
Over and over, one name comes up with every incident.
The Troubleshooter.
Mick Trubble.
The Troubleshooter.
I don't understand what kind of private investigator could stir up so much chaos in one night, and why no one seems to move to stop him. I don't know if he's one of Selene's operators or someone caught in the middle of things like I am. I figure I have to take the risk and see if I can catch up to him. If we're on the same side then maybe he'll be able to get me a lead on Tommy Tsunami.
I've dodged two patrols of Wildcats and fought with one more. My shoulder stings from a gash from a katana that would have severed my arm at the joint if I hadn't dodged quickly enough. I think the only reason I'm still alive is that Selene has the bulk of her Gutter Girls looking for Tommy Tsunami. Seems the word about his involvement got out, and he's as wanted as I am. Which means I have to find him before they do if I want any chance of getting out of New Haven in one piece. Because I found out real quick that getting a Transit pass out of the city is an excruciating process that takes weeks and heavy vetting of the applicant. I won't last weeks, and I won't pass the inspection process. Tommy Tsunami was right, damn the man. I have to crawl back to him and hope he wasn't serious about doubling the price.
I start at the prison riot because that was the last known sighting of Mick Trubble. Cracking the databanks was pretty easy using a backdoor detection system I created and installed in my holoband. The guards at the prison are synoids, so I'm able to access their logs and scan for details. The riot was pretty ugly, but the main thing was that the Troubleshooter had been there visiting a prisoner named Dr. Faraday. I save his file for later as I zero in on what I need. Video feed of the synthetic warden talking to Mick Trubble after the riot ended.
"Listen. I don't know what kind of trouble you're in, but since it's you, I have to assume it's critical. I owe you a favor, and I don't like debt." She opened her holoband and pulled up a location on the grid. "Synch up to this position — it will take you right to the Captain. I'll send him a line and let him know you're coming."
"The Captain? You want me to hook up with the brass? What kind of a sap do you take me for? I'm not exactly on great terms with the button boys. With all the heat on my back, I'd probably get my elbows checked and end up right back here in one of your meat lockers."
"He's on the square. And a hard man to reach, so you should be thanking me. I wouldn't recommend him if I didn't think it was worth your while. Try to keep an open mind, Troubleshooter."
"An open mind invites too many ideas, Warden. But what the hell — I'll take a chance this time. Only 'cause it's you."
I shut the feed down. Mick Trubble is headed to the precinct for a chat with the police captain. If I move fast, there's a chance I can catch him before something else explodes.
I barely get there in time. The rain is falling heavy, and I get soaked as soon as I step out of the autocab. That's when I spot someone exiting the building with an air of someone about to do something incredibly foolish. I recognize him from the video. He's Mick Trubble.
The Troubleshooter.
Up close he's not what I expected. I imagined some hulking bruiser of a man, but Mick is medium in height and build. I'd peg his age at somewhere in his forties. He's dressed like a movie version of a private eye, complete with a trench coat and fedora. He's handsome in a rugged way, the square-jawed type with a face that looks cruel until you glance again and see the wry humor in his eyes.
He meets up with a pair of other men as I approach. One is an Indian man with the build of an athlete and the looks of an actor; the other a tall, lean man dressed up as a cowboy for some reason. I take it as part of the New Haven insanity and don't give it a second thought. I’m not here for either of them, anyway. I'm here for the Troubleshooter.
"Hey."
The single word ignites immediate action. The cowboy whips out twin revolvers, and the Indian man assumes a martial arts stance. Only Mick Trubble is relaxed. He gives me a considering stare, eyes cool and calculating as he calms his partners down with a gesture.
"You boys wanna ease back a bit? This ain't one of Selene's Gutter Girls."
The cowboy holsters his pistols and nods my direction. "Well if she ain't one of them crazy ninja chicks, who is she?"
Mick lights a cigarette; eyes still fixed on me. "Let the lady speak for herself."
"I'm looking for Tommy Tsunami."
"Get in line." Mick exhales a cloud of smoke into the drizzle. "Lemme guess. You gotta be that La Fox dame. Word is Selene wants your head for her leg. And I thought I was having a bad night."
"I didn't know who she was when I did the job. Tommy Tsunami left a few details out."
"Yeah, I bet he did. So, what do you think I can do for you?"
"Give me a lead on where he is. I'll take care of the rest."
"I see. Give you a lead on the lug I need to take down. Lemme think about that." He took another drag on the cigarette. "Sorry kid. No dice."
"I'll make it worth your while."
He smirked. "See? That's how I got into this mess in the first place. The good ol' promise of fresh cabbage. Now I got a case of the New Haven Blues breathing down my back, and the only thing that's gonna get me out of this soup sandwich is finding that skel Tommy Tsunami and getting Selene's leg back in one piece. Not hard to guess he washed you over and hung you out to dry. But your revenge is gonna have to wait until my business with him is over."