He hoped Obrim wasn't offended by the distortion field he'd set up. The little emitter sat discreetly on the table between the glasses like a rolled-up pellet of flimsi, ready to bounce any bugging signals.
“If it's one of mine, I'll personally put a round through him,” Obrim said.
Skirata didn't doubt it. “You could put a fake lure in the system and see who goes for it.”
“But even if it's one of us, then they'd still need data from the GAR to complete the loop. It's one thing having the holo-cam images of military targets and movements. It's another knowing where they'll be to start with.”
“Okay, then. I have to put someone inside GAR logistics.” There was only one choice: Ordo. “If we find a link to your people, though, I have to cut you loose. I'm sorry.”
“I'm not exactly being kept in the loop on all this anyway, am I?”
“If I told you where my squads were operating, and they happened to get into a bit of trouble that attracted the attention of your people, you might have to call them off. Then everyone would know we had a strike team deployed.”
“I know. I'm just worried that your personnel will attract the attention of some of my overzealous colleagues, and one of us will be sending wreaths to next of kin.”
“My boys don't have next of kin. Only me.”
“Kal …”
“I can't. I just can't. This has to be deniable.” He liked Obrim. He was a kindred spirit, a pragmatic man who didn't trust easily. “But if something looks like it's going to get out of hand, and I can warn you off, I will.”
Obrim swirled the dregs of his ale in the glass. “Okay. Sure you don't want one of these?”
“I only have one at night to help me sleep. Habit from Kamino. Sleep got pretty hard to come by.”
“You'll have to tell me about that one day. I bet they didn't have any crime in Tipoca City.”
“Oh, there was crime, all right.” The worst kind: if he ever met another Kaminoan, he knew what he'd do. “Nothing you could have arrested anyone for, though.”
“When's your boy Fi going to stop by for a drink? We owe him one from the siege. Brave kid.”
“Yeah. He throws himself instinctively on a grenade, and he's a hero. If he fires instinctively and slots a civilian, though, he's a monster.”
“And don't we know it, pal. Happens to us, too.”
“Anyway, Fi's on a routine patrol at the moment.” Skirata checked his chrono. Green Watch was due to relieve Red in two hours. “I'll bring him down here, don't worry. He's probably bored out of his skull at the moment. Anti-terror ops can be tedious.”
“Sitting around, more sitting around, even more sitting around, then scramble, sheer panic, and bang.”
“Yeah, I think that sums it up.” Skirata drained his glass of juice. “I just hope we get to the bang part in time.”
Level 4 retail plaza, Quadrant B-85, Coruscant, 1310 hours; Red Watch observing targets on foot
They should have called it in and let one of the other teams pick it up. But sometimes you had to run with it.
Fi was now on autopilot, reacting to training he hadn't realized he'd absorbed so thoroughly, and Sev was matching him pace for pace.
The shopping plaza was a mass of color, random people, and even more bewildering smells and sounds. This was life in the field without a helmet, and Fi didn't like it. Just ahead, Vinna Jiss wandered casually, moving along one diagonal line then another, and then pausing to stare into transparisteel windows full of things Fi had no idea that people bought—or wore.
Sev glanced at him. He didn't even have to say it.
She looks in an awful lot of shop windows. She doesn't follow a straight path. She thinks she knows how to avoid a tail, but she's learned it from the holovids. Amateur Weak link.
“Bardan … ,” Sev said quietly.
The Jedi's voice was a whisper in Fi's ear. “I know where you are. Don't worry.”
“Not worried.” Sev glanced away from the target and Fi turned around casually toward her, looking past her but keeping her in his peripheral vision. “Can't see the Falleen now …”
“Moving on,” Fi said.
They let Jiss walk on until she was almost lost in the crowd, and then started moving again. A well-planned surveillance operation would have positioned mobile and fixed teams in the area to simply watch and hand off the target to the next team along the route. But they were on their own. And they had never planned to follow a suspect.
“This is what Kal said we should never do,” said Fi.
“You got a better idea?”
“Reckon she's seen us?”
“If she has, she hasn't reacted.”
“Why would she? If she's what we think she is, then we're just targets to her”
The plaza was busy. There was a restaurant on the left-hand side with tables and chairs in the open air. Jiss sat down. Sev and Fi walked on past her, and if Fi looked like an overwhelmed clone who'd spent his life cloistered in military environments, then he wasn't acting. Even Qibbu's Hut felt more familiar than this.
It wasn't the urban environment. It was the sheer mass of civilians.
They had no choice. They walked on farther.
“Fierfek,” Sev said. “She'll have doubled back or disappeared by the time we can turn around safely.”
Fi was looking straight ahead. He could see splashes of dark red between the multicolored shoulders of the dozens of species strolling around the plaza.
“Here comes the Forty-first,” he said. “You can always rely on the infantry …”
A dozen or so brothers were ambling along, gazing around them and being gazed at by shoppers who had clearly never seen clones before. No matter how many times Fi saw that reaction, he always found himself wondering what they found so strange about it, and then had to see his own world as the rest of the galaxy saw it.
The Forty-first were level with them now.
Fi smiled fraternally and got a bewildered nod or two in return. They don't recognize me! That felt strange. All his commando brothers knew him. And he could tell infantry from ship's crew by the way they walked. He walked between the men of the Forty-first with Sev like a marching band merging, and spun around at the back of the group to walk back toward the target.
She was still sitting there. But she was looking the other way.
She was staring at another group of clone troopers heading toward her from the other direction.
“I love being a familiar face,” Fi said. His anxiety gave way to a sense of heightened awareness, the thrill of the hunt. The woman's spine straightened as if she was going to jump up, but she sat tense for a few seconds until the clones drew level with her and met the group coming from the other direction. They stopped to chat. Fi and Sev melted into the group at the rear.
“I'm heading around the back of the plaza,” said Jusik's voice in their ears. “Niner's on station now. I'll give you some aerial recon.”
“Gotcha,” Fi said quietly.
It's bad personal security to cluster like this. But that didn't matter right then. The woman dithered, trying not to look at the group and failing miserably: Fi, like any clone, was exceptionally attuned to small gestures. Then she got up to walk briskly into the nearest shop.
“Maybe she owed Jango credits.” Fi shrugged and noted with a sinking heart that the shop looked to be exclusively for females. The garments on display were truly bizarre. “Or we're just not her type.”
“So, smart-mouth, you going to follow her in there?”
“I could.”
“What, tell them you're looking for a present for your girlfriend?”
“Don't push your luck. Is there a back way out?”
Sev stepped into a doorway and shielded Fi while he took a quick look at the holochart and snapped off the image quickly.
“No, but there's a landing platform for deliveries.”
Sev dropped to a whisper. “Bardan, you with us yet?”