The further they got from the center of the Kensington-Chelsea Dome, the fewer people they found to merge with and hide from potential surveillance. Serah’s nervousness continually made her want to walk faster than normal, which Parrino constantly stopped and warned her about. They were about a block away from the dome exit and tunnel, which would get them across the river when Parrino led them down a side street and behind an ancient building.
“Okay,” he said, looking Serah directly in the eyes to ensure she was paying close attention. This is the risky part. I need you to stay focused. Don’t stare too closely at any of these people. Don’t look around too much. Just remain casual, as if you belong here.”
Serah nodded in agreement, and Parrino led them down a narrow flight of steps to a basement door. He knocked three times, and two minutes later, a gruff-looking woman opened the door. She regarded Parrino for a few seconds, then stepped back and motioned the two of them in. The basement was dimly lit and musty-smelling. A half-dozen people, dressed in an odd fashion that seemed at least a century out of date, sat quietly on ripped couches.
“Hey, Dave,” one said, standing up and walking over to the two of them. He had unkempt hair, wore a dirty raincoat, and had a patch covering one scarred eye, which seemed oddly anachronistic in an age of cybernetics or at least passable prosthetics. What brings you to our den of sin today?”
“Miguel!” Parrino smiled, and the two exchanged hugs. “I need your services. I wondered if we might talk privately for a moment.”
“Of course, my old friend,” the man said in an accent that was vaguely Spanish and not at all authentic, Serah noted. He led Parrino into the next room while the remaining five stared at her, curious.
Remembering Parrino’s instructions, she smiled, crossed her arms, and pretended not to notice them, focusing instead on the room’s décor. It was a hodgepodge of classical art, old movie and holovid advertisements, a few old street signs, and storefront advertisements. Like Miguel’s accent, they were also completely fabricated.
“I know you, don’t I?” said a woman sitting in a worn wingback chair in the corner.
Serah shrugged and studied a portrait of a man in an Edwardian coat. “I don’t believe so,” she said.
“You look very familiar. I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
“I just have one of those faces, I suppose.” She was now half-terrified that at least one of them would recognize her from NPNA and ruin whatever Parrino’s plan was.
After five uncomfortable minutes, Parrino and Miguel returned. “Okay, let’s move,” Parrino said, gesturing towards the door.
Serah didn’t start to relax until they were back on the main street, and even then, it wasn’t much. “What was that all about?” she asked.
“Like I said, this is the risky part. It’s best not to know too much, as you might overthink it.”
“Overthink what, exactly?” she asked.
Parrino said nothing and led them into a shop across the street from the alley. “Okay, we’re going to need supplies.” He walked them through the store and halfway down an aisle containing general hardware and tools. He stopped in front of a row of portable scanners, usually used for finding studs, wiring, and conduits, behind older buildings’ walls. He picked up the cheapest one he could when a holodrone rounded the corner and sped towards them.
“The Hosaka 2400 is on special this week,” a billy said as he rezzed into the middle of the aisle next to them.
“Yeah, but it costs twice as much as the Aurora here,” Parrino replied defiantly.
“The Aurora offers only half the scan intensity of the Hosaka and isn’t nearly as detailed in its resolution.”
Parrino appeared annoyed at the conversation. “And?”
The billy’s holo abruptly began to break up, replaced by Mak’s scowling image and imposing frame. “It was a nice trick with the decoys, David, but did you really think I’d fall for something as obvious as that?”
Parrino smiled. “Not for a minute, old friend.”
“Good, then, at least you’re not insulting my intelligence. I don’t suppose I can talk you into surrendering peacefully before you rack up more charges. Right now, you might be able to claim it was a lapse of judgment and save your job. If you do, I’ll back you up with the board of inquiry.”
“Mak, there’s still someone out there hunting this woman. Someone who is probably behind all of this. I can’t let that go, and I won’t insult your intelligence by trying to persuade you to help me. We’re both doing what we think is right.”
“You’re not doing anything else. This is a retail store. Even if you’ve got most of the force deployed on the opposite side of the district, There are surveillance cameras, security drones, and a dozen other things I can commandeer to stop you from leaving before they get here.”
Parrino sighed. “Yeah, I know.”
“Parrino!” a man at the far end of the aisle shouted. Serah and Parrino whirled around and saw Miguel standing at the end of the aisle. He appeared startled to see them. Instinctively, he grabbed a passing girl by the arm, drew a knife, and held it to her throat. “I knew you were a bullshit cop! They tried to tell me you’re the one who busted Skurv, but I didn’t believe them.”
Mak stepped in front of Parrino and Serah. “Alright, listen, son. You don’t want to be doing this. Why don’t you put the knife down?”
Miguel spat, and the woman screamed as he pressed the knife tighter against her throat. “Stay back, man. If your holo so much as flickers to take over a security drone, I’ll slit her throat before you get there.”
Mak held his hands up and began speaking in a calm voice. “Okay, okay. I’m not going anywhere, but you must know I’ve already called for backup. This place will be crawling with officers in about five minutes. What are you going to do then?”
“More like fifteen, thanks to me,” Parrino whispered so that only Mak and Serah could hear. With Mak’s back to them, he motioned for Serah to remain silent, grabbed her hand, and slowly backed out of the aisle. Then, he motioned Serah to the stock room in the back and began running.
They pushed through the doors, darted between stacks of merchandise, and out onto the loading dock, where a hauler was parked. Parrino pressed a sequence of commands on his bracer to commandeer the vehicle “for official police business,” and the doors slowly opened.
“Are you just going to leave Mak there in the middle of a hostage situation?!” Serah asked, incredulous, as she climbed into the passenger seat.
“Yes. That was the general idea.”
“What about that innocent woman? She’s in danger!”
Parrino pretended to be confused. “From a rubber knife?”
Sudden clarity struck Serah. If she hadn’t been panicked at the sight of Mak and terrified by the prospect of a hostage situation, she would have figured it out sooner. “You two set that up,” she said, embarrassed.
“Yeah, but you sold it with that look on your face. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but isn’t your friend going to be in trouble when Mak finally captures him?”
Parrino laughed. “He doesn’t know he’s aiding a fugitive. He thinks he’s helping Serah Wyles of NPNA with a crime reenactment for a news story.”
“What? Why?”
“You didn’t recognize we were in the basement of the Riverwalk Theater. That wasn’t a street gang. That was an acting troupe. They’re good, aren’t they?”
Serah exhaled in amazement. “Very good!”
Parrino steered the hauler through the dome exit and into the underwater tunnel that would take them to the Battersea Preserve. “Since it’s a hostage situation, Mak won’t make a move against until backup arrives,” he flashed Serah a sinister smile, “and I specifically instructed Miguel not to break character until then. That should give us just enough time to reach Croydon.”
© 2022 Darrin Snider. All Rights Reserved.
