His ClearPhone screen activated without him touching it.

  Cassidy moved his hand slowly, trying not to draw the tiny drone’s attention. The ClearPhone’s display shifted to Hall’s personal contact list, scrolling through the names. Nicholas was on top, Mirana just under him. The sight of their names sent a siphon through Cassidy that nearly made him lose his concentration. His hand quivered slightly before he regained control, muscles tensing in preparation of his strike.

  The insect shifted slightly, rising a few inches before dropping back down. The door to the room next to Cassidy’s opened a moment later, a pair of muffled voices audible through the poorly insulated walls.

  The ClearPhone exited the contact list and opened Hall’s personal message box.

  The door to the adjacent room slammed. Cassidy’s hand moved at the same time, sweeping over his bare chest to grab the drone.

  It darted out of his reach, changing direction and launching toward the ventilation grate on the other side of the room. Hand still in motion after the miss, Cassidy brought it down with the needlegun instead. He aimed and fired in one quick motion. The needle barely missed the drone, sinking into the wall next to the grate. It detonated a split-second later, the force of the small explosion altering the machine’s course. The thing smacked into the wall and fell to the floor.

  Cassidy slid off the bed, knees complaining as he hobbled over to the drone before it could take off again. Kneeling over it, he saw his shot had sheared off its delicate wings, leaving only the dark oblong body intact. He put down the needlegun and picked up the drone, dropping it in his open palm. He brought it closer to his face to get a better look at it. He wasn’t sure if it was still functional until the tiny lenses of its eyes shifted to refocus. On him.

  He had seen small drones before, but never anything this small. Twenty years. It wasn’t just the look of the rotos that had changed. The obvious question was, who had sent it? His first thought went to Nevis, but that didn’t make any sense. The Bureau already had access to Hall’s contacts and messages. They didn’t need a spy to steal them. Garrett? A bigger possibility, that is if Jazz had ratted him out to his target. But he had no reason to think the dealer would turn on him like that. Dorne? She was supposed to be dead. Still, the thought intrigued him. Except the message Hall had left was to look into what had happened to Dorne, not to find Dorne as though she were still alive. Cassidy had no doubt Hall had chosen his words carefully. If he was trying to throw off the Bureau, he might have used an inaccurate phrase. But less specificity would also pull Cassidy further from the truth and make it harder for him to find the answers.

  He considered digging into Hall’s mind. It was the quickest path to a resolution, but exceedingly dangerous. And Hall would have given him a different message if he wanted Cassidy to take things that far right out of the gate. It was a good card to have in hand in case he became desperate, but he would avoid playing it for now.

  Looking down at the drone, he wondered if the tiny machine was even related to the mission. It wouldn’t be surprising for a common street hacker to use something like it to skim a ClearPhone. Maybe whoever owned it was just out for an easy score.

  Cassidy had initially planned to crush the drone. Now he decided to keep it. Not for long, in case it had a tracking device built in. He had already planned to see about hiring a little outside help. They could probably help him with this too.

  He returned to the bed, dropping the drone next to his clothes. He had just pulled on his underwear when the door tone sounded, indicating someone had come to see him. He picked up the neeedlegun, holding it behind his back as he tapped on the panel on the inside of the door to activate the camera.

  Shell stood outside, an assault rifle in her arms and a concerned look on her face.

  “Mister Hall,” she said. “Sensors picked up shots fired in your room. Are you okay in there?”

  Cassidy hesitated a moment while he decided how to respond. Then he tapped the panel to release the electromagnetic lock and pulled the door open.

  “Shell, come in,” he said.

  Her eyes drifted over his nearly-naked body. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “I need to show you something. And you’re carrying an AR-17. You can keep it pointed at me if it makes you feel better. You can hold this too.” He turned the needlegun over in his hand before bringing it from behind his back, holding it out to her grip-first. “A shot was fired. I fired it.”

  She glanced at the gun and then at him. Then she released the AR from her right hand to take the needlegun. “I’ve never seen a pistol like this before.”

  “Be nice to her; she didn’t come cheap.” Cassidy turned his back on her, moving the few steps over to the grate and the hole he had created. The wall was dark around the detonation point. “You’ll want to charge me for this.”

  “What happened?” Shell asked, moving into the room. She pushed the door closed behind her with her foot, keeping the needlegun pointed at him.

  He pivoted to pick up the drone from the bed, plucking it between thumb and index finger and holding it up to her. “Have you ever seen one of these before?”

  She stared at it a moment. “What is it?”

  “A drone.”

  Her curiosity overrode her fear. She lowered the needlegun and moved in close to him to get a better look. “No, I haven’t. Where did it come from?”

  “I assume through the ventilation,” Cassidy replied. “Since that’s how it was trying to leave. It was scanning my ClearPhone.”

  “Are you shitting me?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mister Hall. I’ve never had a problem like this before.” She paused. “Unless I have and didn’t know it. Nobody’s reported anything, but if it’s going after devices like you say—”

  “I’m not blaming you,” Cassidy said. “But if it came in through the ventilation, it came from either somewhere in the building or the rooftop.”

  “We don’t have our own roto pads,” Shell said. “Too much junk up there already.”

  “Do you have cameras?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. To be honest, I don’t pay much attention to them. This ain’t the Ritz, you know? Most people we get in here are drunks looking to sleep it off or couples looking for somewhere to screw.” She glanced at him. “And the occasional fugitive, I suppose.”

  “I’m not a fugitive.”

  “You looked like one when you came in. If you’re not a fugitive, then you’re UDF. I’ll let you take your pick.”

  Cassidy smiled. “Let’s call it fugitive then.”

  She winked at him. “I told you, I don’t ask questions.” She pointed to the damaged wall. “Don’t worry about this. If the guests are being targeted, you just saved us a lot more than that by stopping that thing and letting me know. I don’t like this job, but I do need it. And who knows how bad actors could use what they steal against our customers. Or us. We can’t afford that kind of liability.”

  “I’m interested in whoever might have sent this thing too,” Cassidy said. “I’d like to know if you see anything suspicious when you review the camera footage.”

  “Why would I share the feed with a fugitive?”

  “Because we might be able to help each other.” Cassidy grabbed his pants, wincing as he lifted his legs to put them on.

  “Going out?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to take this little bastard to someone I know to see what they can make of it.”

  “You look like you can barely walk.”

  Cassidy put on his shirt and suit jacket, forgoing the tie. “Gun?” He held out his hand. She passed the needlegun back to him. “Shell, I probably don’t need to say this, but can you keep all of this between you and me?”

  “You don’t need to say it.”

  “Good. I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

  “I can’t miss you; there’s only one way in and it goes right past me.”

  Cassidy lifted the raincoat from the hook near the door and slipped it on before opening the door. “I changed my mind,” he said.

  “About what?” Shell asked.

  “I do want a suite.”

  He winked back at her and then vanished through the door.

  Chapter 18

  Cassidy took a small sip of the stim cocktail as the elevator descended. Keeping with its nickname, the concoction truly did taste the way he imagined piss would, and it left a thick burning sensation in his throat as it went down. A clear indication it wasn’t intended for delivery through the digestive tract. Even so, by the time the cab reached the ground floor the pain in his knees had faded to a light tingling, and he was able to walk normally as he headed out of the Agora.

  Back on the street, he hesitated for a moment in front of the hotel, watching the people go by. It was two in the morning, and the streets were just as filled with activity as they had been an hour earlier, with no sign of abatement. Even back in his Marine days he had read somewhere that if everyone who was stuffed into the city tried to go out at once it would lead to so much congestion no one would be able to get anywhere. He’d believed it then, and he believed it even more now.

  He looked to his right, spotting a bicycle-pulled rickshaw coming to a stop on the other side of the street, its passenger climbing out. He pushed through the crowd, not afraid to bump and shove his way across, getting shouted at by a scooter driver that nearly crashed into him on the way by.

  “Hold up!” he shouted, waving at the rickshaw. Cassidy spotted another pedestrian headed for it from the other side. “My fare!” he called.

  He reached the rickshaw half a second behind the other guy, who hopped in ahead of him.

  “My fare,” he repeated. “I called it.”

  “Tough shit, asshole,” the other man said. He was bigger and younger, and that observation was probably what made him feel brave.

  “Driver, I called it,” Cassidy said. “You heard me, right?”

  The driver looked back at them. He was young too, but scrawny compared to the competition. “He did call it,” he affirmed.

  “I don’t care,” the other man said. “Take me to the Circus.”

  The driver shrugged and turned back, preparing to pedal. Cassidy grabbed the handlebars, holding him in place. He glared at the other man. “I strongly suggest you evacuate my seat.”

  “It isn’t your seat, old man.” He pushed his coat aside, revealing a revolver tucked into his belt.

  “All right.” Letting go of the handlebars, Cassidy put up his hands in surrender. “You win.”

  “Thought so,” the guy said, smiling. He pushed the jacket over his piece and leaned back.

  Cassidy turned his back on the rickshaw as it began to pull away. He let it get past him, and then circled to the other side. He pulled his needlegun, jumped onto the side, and shoved the muzzle of the weapon against the other man’s temple while the rickshaw came to a quick stop.

  “I changed my mind,” Cassidy said. “Get up.”

  The other man glowered at him before reluctantly shifting to stand. “You’re going to regret this, old man. Do you even know who I run with?”

  “Nope. And I don’t care either. You have no idea who I run with, but I do know you don’t want to find out.”

  The man stared at him, unnerved by Cassidy’s commanding tone. Cassidy took the opportunity to throw his shoulder into him, pushing him off the rickshaw. The other pedestrians parted to avoid him as he hit the ground. The man reached for his gun as he tried to get back up.

  “Don’t,” Cassidy warned, pointing the needlegun at him. “Remember what I just said?”

  The other guy glared but stopped moving.

  “Go,” Cassidy instructed the driver, who resumed pedalling without argument. Cassidy leaned his head out to watch the other man until he vanished in the crowd. It would be stupid for him to make the same mistake he had just taken advantage of.

  “Where are you headed, Mister?” the driver asked, in between yelling at people in front of him to get out of the way. “Move aside, man. Clear a path for me!”

  “Three blocks north, two blocks east.”

  “Sunshine Towers. You headed to the Mines?”

  “You know it?”

  “Yeah, my cousin is a member.” He paused to shout again. “Get out of the damn way! Move! Move!”

  “She’s a hacker?”

  “One of the best in the city.”

  “Does she know Brie?”

  He looked back at Cassidy. “How does an old man like you know Brie?” His head snapped forward again. “Get out of the way. Move aside. Let’s go, man.”

  Cassidy smirked. He didn’t know himself until the driver asked, helping him unlock Hall’s memory without having to push for it. Hall had helped her get out of some extended jail time in exchange for a favor to be named later.

  It seemed later had come.

  “She owes me one,” he replied.

  “Brie owes you?”

  “Believe it or not. I’m paying you to pedal me there, not give me shit.”

  The driver laughed. “Just making conversation, man. Some riders like that.”

  “Talk about the weather then.”

  He laughed. “Forecast. Rain, followed by more rain. I did hear there’s a chance the rain might turn to snow in a couple of days. That’s always fun for business, slipping my ass all over the place on the ice.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Say, who do you run with? You scared the hell out of that hundy.”

  “Hundy? Is that slang?” He hadn’t heard that one before.

  The driver laughed. “Yeah. Means asshole.”

  “I don’t run with anybody. I’m independent.”

  He laughed harder. “Are you crazy? Maybe you didn’t notice, but that guy had a triad tattoo on the back of his hand.”

  “Silver Dragons,” Cassidy said. “I noticed.”

  “You aren’t afraid of them?”

  “Not really.”

  “And you know Brie? What are you, a Shade or something?”

  “Shades don’t exist.”

  “Yeah, that’s what they all want us to believe.” He laughed, his posture suggesting he was just joking around. “Come on, you have to be UDF at least.”

  “You should know better than to ask too many questions. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  “That’s what my sis says. So what, are you UDF?”

  “No.”

  “That’s it, just no?”

  “Shut up and pedal.”

  The driver laughed, but he didn’t try to talk to Cassidy again as they covered the distance to the towers. Instead, he redoubled his efforts to shout the other pedestrians out of the way.

  They cleared the thickest part of the downtown, sliding into an area a little more off the beaten path. Sunshine Towers was a group of six concrete, steel and glass skyscrapers originally intended for use as a government administration campus that had been rezoned into section eight housing before the construction was ever completed. Named Sunshine Towers because their height was supposed to allow a view of the sky and sun from the top levels of the monoliths, the builders hadn’t accounted for the thickening skies or the way the other construction and pollution in the city had altered cloud formation. As it was, the towers had never managed to clear enough of the weather to achieve their namesake view more often than the city itself saw a sunny day, which wasn’t all that often. Some people claimed the wealthy inhabitants had bribed the original architects to ensure they would maintain their exclusive views from the heights of their much taller towers, but it had never been proven.

  Each tall, slender structure contained thousands of apartments only slightly bigger than his room at the Agora and were often occupied by entire families. The towers were infamous for their overall living conditions but were also applauded for keeping people out of the rain and off the streets. Compromise construction, better than nothing, but not by much.

  In over ninety percent of the buildings in the city, the ground floors were lined with businesses. Sunshine Towers was no different. Its bottom floor was crowded with second-hand shops, pawn shops and low-end gambling places, along with small shops where you could get cheap food, drink, drugs and sex. Affordable options to make everyday living at least a bit enjoyable.

  The crowds were slightly thinned out here as more of the residents were sleeping this early in the morning, but there was still plenty of action outside. While the back alleys of the towers seemed less busy than the dark corners a few blocks away, Cassidy knew the look was deceiving.

  There was something unique about the towers as compared to any other low-income housing, and it had to do with the buildings’ original purpose as Unity office space. While all of the above-ground facilities were being converted to apartments, the shared basement of the complex had already been completed to meet the needs of the original occupants. End result, the Sunshine Towers had the absolute best internet connection of any housing project in the city and maybe even the world. That kind of commodity had value, and like anything of value, someone had found a way to seize it, control it and profit from it.

  The Mines were one on a list of a hundred places and activities that were technically illegal, but the authorities had been told to turn a blind eye toward them. While bad stuff did happen beneath the towers, activities that were sometimes too big to ignore, both the Police and the UDF did their best to leave well enough alone.

  Cassidy would do his best not to make any waves. His primary concern was that Brie would recognize Hall as soon as he entered the place, and no matter the reason for his visit, she wouldn’t be happy to see a known UDF agent on the premises. None of the hackers that worked and played in the Mines would. But she owed Hall and Cassidy needed her help. And that was the end of it.

  The rickshaw driver pulled to a stop when they reached Sunshine Plaza, a small public square in the center of the six towers and one of very few green areas not exclusive to the wealthy. A small, graffiti-tagged brick building sat in the center of the square, a rusted steel door the only entry. The structure was originally built to provide access to the utilities without having to provide full security clearance to every plumber or electrician who needed to make a repair.