.30calibre carbine, a .357 Magnum Smith & Wesson pistol, a 9mm Luger automatic, a 12gauge shotgun with sawnoff barrel and stock, a Galesi-Brescia handgun, some thirtyshot magazines, and over seven hundred rounds of ammunition.
During the previous night Whitman had murdered first his mother, then his wife. On his way into the UT Tower a few minutes earlier he had shot and killed a receptionist and a family of visitors. Now he was leaning on the parapet,
peering through the telescopic sight at the crowds on the Drag below.
In the heat and humidity of the Texan midsummer, Teresa Simons, unaware of the sniper at the top of the tower, was looking at the handmade sandals on one of the craft stalls. The humid air smelt of cedarwood, hot roadtar and the incense that several stallholders were burning. On one of the other stalls the Beatles' new single 'Paperback Writer' was playing loudly. Teresa smiled and listened to the words; the song reminded her of a boy she'd known for a while, twenty years ago.
She moved on down, looking at the goods displayed on another stalclass="underline" brightly coloured posters, tasselled leather shoulderbags, embroidered muslin shirts and equipment for growing cannabis. She was Whitman's first victim, and died from a shot through her back.
The Austin Tower ExEx was one of the toughest assignments on the course, and Teresa was involved with the challenge it presented for most of a winter. But she got her man in the end.
CHAPTER 16
At lunchtime Teresa went to the hotel bar, where she knew she could order some sandwiches.
Amy brought them to her, looking and sounding more friendly than at their last encounter, but after that she left Teresa alone in the bar. Teresa drank a glass of chilled mineral water, feeling virtuous, and a small cup of coffee afterwards. The bar remained solidly normal. Nick and Amy appeared at intervals, going about their business, serving the handful of other customers who appeared.
Back in her room she again consulted her streetmap of Bulverton. She located Welton Road: it was in a small grid of streets close to the Ridge, the ring road that followed the fine of hills to the north of the town, forming an effective boundary with the countryside.
She drove up to Welton Road and found that it was part of a recently built industrial estate. A number of large, undistinguished buildings, constructed of prefabricated concrete with brick facing, lined the streets. Most of the businesses appeared to be light industry: she saw signs for computer software companies, packaging suppliers, manufacturers of electronic components, package couriers. In this environment the extreme experience building blended effortlessly. She drove past it twice before she located it. All it had was a discreet white sign next to the door announcing: GUNHO ExEx. The place had few windows, and only one entrance area; in front of the building there was a wide parking lot. Teresa drove in, but could find no spaces left
and had to move to a place on the side of the road a couple of hundred yards away.
She was locking the car when she became aware that someone was leaving the building. She instantly recognized him: it was the man she had seen talking aggressively to Amy in the Old Town market. Teresa moved at once to the rear of the car and opened the hatch door. Using the raised door as cover she looked up the road through the tilted glass of the window. The man walked briskly from the main entrance, strode through the parking lot and went to a car parked not far from her own. He did not appear to notice her, nor should there be any reason why he would.
She waited until he had driven away, not fully understanding why she felt the need to stay out of his sight. She closed and locked her car, then walked across to the building. A pair of double glass doors led into a conventional reception area, where a young woman sat behind a large desk.
There seemed to be people everywhere. Five people were sitting in a waiting area opposite the reception desk, and there were two others already in a fine in front of her at the desk. The young receptionist was speaking on the telephone, and writing on a pad of paper with her free hand. To one side of her desk there was a pile of wrapped packages, apparently awaiting collection or delivery.
Beyond the waiting area, on the side, there was a door with a glass panel, and as it appeared she was going to have to wait for several minutes Teresa sauntered across to it and peered through. Above the door was a large sign, the lettering drawn in a brilliant emulation of the kind of spraypaint graffiti you saw everywhere: CYBERVILLE UK. It was a long, windowless room, not brightly lit, equipped with at least a dozen PCs. Each computer was in use, with someone staring raptly at the screen. Teresa realized that the place was an internet cafe: website graphics were constantly loading and wiping, as the endless search for data went on. At the far end of the room were some arcade games machines, but these were not being used. Most of the computer users looked remarkably young.
She returned to the reception desk, and waited her turn. At last, the young woman, identified on her lapel badge as Paula Willson of Customer Services Dept., was free.
'May 1 help you?' she said.
1'd like to make use of the ExEx equipment here.'
'Yes, we have that facility. Are you a member?'
'No. Do 1 have to be?'
'Yes, unless you're already a member of one of our associate clubs.'
'I've used ExEx in the States,' Teresa said. 'But not on public equipment. lt was ... training equipment.'
Paula Willson passed her a form from a large pile on her desk.
'lf you would fill this in,' she said, 'we can enrol you straight away. Were you planning on using the equipment today?'
'Yes, 1 was. If that's possible.'
'We're always booked up, but there are a few slots free this afternoon. Weekdays are better than weekends.' She had turned the form round on the desk, and was indicating it with a finger. 'AH we need from you is some form of identification, and we do require a membership fee when you enrol. We accept all major credit cards.'
'When I've filled this out, 1 give it back to you?'
'Yes. May 1 help you?'
She had turned to the two people standing behind Teresa, who had come in from outside while they were talking. Teresa picked up the form and took it across to the waiting area. She found a space on one of the black leather sofas, and
leaned forward to lay the form on the glasstopped table in front of her. The page was headed GunHo Corporation Extreme Experience and Internet Access.
lt was a lowintensity form compared with some of the ones she had had to complete in the US; there were the usual questions concerning identity, status, finances and occupation, none of which bothered her. She hesitated over the questions about her job, wondering how she should describe it. There was no official Bureau policy on this, although when answering similar form questions in the US she and other agents usually named their employer in vague terms, such as 'US Government' or 'Dept. of justice', and their Job as 'civil servant' or 'federal employee'. For the time being she left this box blank, and turned over the page.
Here she found a list of questions about her intended use of the equipment, ranging from email, internet conferencing and access to website browsing, to use of extreme experience scenarios general and specific uses, with a long list of the latter and training modules. She glanced through the list, remarking to herself on the extent of what was on offer.