“Just fantasizing.”
The textbook approach was to knock out the two illumigrids and then move in. But timing was critical. Skirata and Jusik needed to make the delivery of explosives and then get clear before the party started.
“Omega, we're in position.”
“Copy that.” This time it was Mereel's voice.
“On my mark, we'll knock out both lights and then provide covering fire while you advance from the south side. Delta, what's your location?”
“Boss here, sir. We'll be in position behind the warehouse in two minutes. Atin and Fixer will enter from the front. Scorch and I will cover the north side of the strip.”
Atin seemed to have slipped easily into the temporary gap left by Sev. There wasn't the slightest hint in their voices that their former brother wasn't welcome. Ordo supposed that once you were one of Vau's trainees, you could merge back into the batch without comment when there was a job to be done.
“Okay, vode. Now we watch and wait.”
Mereel, Fi, Niner, Darman, and Corr crouched in the cover of a conveyor belt of bins outside the waste depot, where droids collected the contents for compaction and disposal.
Fi sniffed dubiously. There was the distinct sulfurous tang of rotting vegetables: harmless, or his helmet's filter would never have let the aroma through, but nauseating nonetheless. On Niner's signal, they sprinted from the bins and dropped down by a pillar at the end of the walkway that led across to the CoruFresh depot.
“You're very shiny, you two,” Niner said, jerking his thumb at Corr and Mereel, who were almost glowing in the light from the red flashing sign of a seedy caf bar. “Why don't you just write SHOOT ME HERE on that di'kutla white armor?”
“You rely on that black stuff way too much,” Mereel said. “It's all about a stealthy approach, you see,” He heaved a massive Merr-Sonn Reciprocating Quad Blaster onto his hip and powered up the microrepulsorlift to take some of its weight. Four huge double-barreled blaster muzzles loomed from the weapon's body. It was close on eighty centimeters long and looked more like a cruiser's close-in defense cannon. “Stealth, and a nice big Cip-Quad, of course.”
Fi patted Corr's conspicuously white shoulder. “His men will follow him anywhere, ner vod. But only out of curiosty.”
“Okay, get curious, then.” Mereel indicated the direction of the landing strip. “They've moved some of the vessels, so we're going to have to cover a little extra open ground. At least most of the cockpits are facing the same way so we might have a blind spot to take advantage of.”
Darman, Verpine rifle slung across his back, was still examining the other impressive item of Merr-Sonn firepower excess that was balanced across his thighs, the Z-6 Rotary Blaster. It was almost as big as the Cip-Quad. He looked wary of it and passed it to Corr. “We really did say no prisoners, didn't we, sir?”
“Not exactly a sniper weapon, I know.”
“Etain would like that,” Fi said. “Bit classier than her Trannie LJ-50.”
Mereel snorted. “The general can get her own rotary. That's my baby.”
“Beats a bunch of flowers, Dar …”
“Has she called in yet, by the way?”
Ordo's voice cut in. There was no privacy on this frequency. “She and Vau followed Perrive's trace to an apartment in zone three, Quadrant A-Four. They're watching him now.”
“Isn't that a diplomatic quarter?” asked Mereel, whose capacity for memorizing data seemed as unlimited as his brother's.
“ 'Fraid so,” said Ordo. “That could get interesting. If we go in there, we're into a whole new level of deniability.”
Fi watched Darman's head drop for a moment, but there wasn't so much as a breath or a click of teeth. He snapped back to his alert position. Fi wasn't sure if he was afraid for Etain's safety or of what she might do, and he didn't plan to ask. “Vau doesn't need that strill when he's got a Jedi with him.”
“He takes Mird everywhere,”, Mereel said. “Like Mando fathers take their sons into battle.”
“If I didn't know Old Psycho was a head case, I'd say that was cute. What is it going to do?”
“You've never seen a strill hunt, have you?”
Mereel didn't say another word. He signaled advance to Niner with a sweep of his hand and the squad sprinted for the perimeter of the landing strip.
Diplomatic sector, Quadrant A-4, 2145 hours, 385 days after Geonosis
Etain stood on the ledge of a soaring office tower facing the elegant apartment block and realized exactly what black ops truly meant.
Vau stood beside her. The ledge was about 150 centimeters wide, and the breeze at this height was noticeable even on climate-controlled Coruscant.
“What's the matter?” Vau said, his parade-ground voice slightly softened by his Mando helmet. “Didn't know how dirty politics could be? That diplomats aren't all nice honest people? That they keep unpleasant company?”
“I think I worked that out already.” She felt the strill brush past her legs, padding impatiently up and down the narrow ledge. It had no fear of heights, it seemed. “But the consequences of pursuing Perrive into that building reach far beyond assassinating a terrorist.”
“We'll have to get him to come out, then.”
“He could lie low there for weeks.”
“If he's hiding, yes.”
“I find you hard to follow sometimes, Vau.”
“He might be collecting something or somebody. He was in a mad rush to leave.”
“I sense he's alone. He isn't picking up a colleague.”
Vau leveled the scope of the Verpine, angled down about thirty degrees. The strill teetered on the edge of the ledge.
“I can see Perrive. Yes, he's alone. He's in front of the doors to the balcony—now that's arrogant, my friend. Think nobody can see you, eh? Etain, want to take a look?”
Vau handed her the Verpine. She took it nervously, hearing Skirata's constant admonition to take care of the weapon, and was surprised how light and harmless it felt. She peered down the scope and felt Vau reach out and flick something on the optic. A different image appeared in the eyepiece, slightly pink-tinted, of a man rummaging through a desk and sticking datachips into his 'pad, activating them, and then extracting and discarding them. A pale blob of light shimmered from his chest and then from his back as he turned.
“What can you see?”
“He's loading data,” Etain said.
“He's shredding someone's files. Told you so.”
“What's the white light? The EM emissions from the Dust?”
“Correct.”
Etain handed back the rifle. “That datapad is going to contain some interesting material. How do we get hold of it?”
“The old-fashioned way.” Vau sounded as if he'd smiled. It was hard to tell under the helmet. “Let's get him to come to the balcony.”
“I'm not sure I can influence his mind at this range … or at all.”
“No need, my dear.” Vau folded a cloth one-handed and placed it under the stock of the Verpine at the point where it touched his armored shoulder. “I hate a standing shot without something to lean against, but I'm not as sure-footed as Mird so I'm not going to attempt to kneel.” He leaned back slightly against the wall at his back. “But this Verpine is beautiful.” He rested his firing hand on his raised forearm. “It's almost a handgun.”
“Just tell me what you're going to do.”
“Make a noise on his balcony so he steps outside.”
“What if he doesn't?”
“Then we'll have to go in and get him the hard way.”
“But if you—”
“Let's get him outside if we can.” Vau paused to let an air-speeder pass. The narrow skylane was almost deserted. “Most armies I ended up serving had no notion of advance planning. I got to be very good at unorthodox solutions.”