Geek Mafia: Mile Zero, Rick Dakan [reading an ebook .TXT] 📗

CHLOE didn’t like being told what to do. Especially in her town.

Most especially by a complete stranger. “That Isaiah,” she said to Paul as they exited the elevator back on the ground floor. “He’s not afraid to give fucking orders, is he?”

“No,” laughed Paul. “Not at all.”

She glanced over and saw Sandee sitting at the hotel bar, sipping on something that could have been a vodka tonic, but was probably just a tonic and lime. She gave Sandee the slightest of nods and motioned with her eyes to meet them outside. Given how prepared Isaiah had been upstairs, Chloe would have been very surprised if he and his Crew didn’t have someone (or some camera) surveiling the lobby. She and Paul made straight for the front door and stepped out onto the street.

They headed west down Duval and turned left at the first cross street. As soon as they were out of sight from the La Concha they both pulled out their cell phones and started dialing.

“Wait,” said Chloe. “Who’re you calling?”

“I was calling Bee,” said Paul.

“I was going to call Bee,” she said.

“Oh, ok. Then I’ll call San.”

“No, you call Bee, I’ll call San.”

“What’re you going to call me?” said a voice from behind them. They both turned around to see Sandee standing there, still stunning in tight dress and dagger heels.

“Ok, you call Bee, I’ll talk to San,” said Chloe. Paul nodded and resumed dialing. None of the Crew had any numbers or information of any kind stored in their phones. Likewise, Bee had modified them all to erase their outgoing and incoming call histories after every call. You never knew when you might lose a phone, and you certainly never knew who might find it. Or steal it.

“I put two of Bee’s little watchers in the lobby,” said Sandee. “One’s in a plant, looking down the hallway to the elevator. The other’s in a plant in the bar where it can cover both main doors.”

“See anything unusual?” Chloe asked.

“Besides my presence in the bar at La Concha? This will do no good for my reputation, you know. No, nothing unusual.”

“Ok, well, now we’re looking for a woman.”

“Who isn’t?”

“We’re looking for a specific woman. Name’s Raquel, although she’s probably going by some other name.”

“A wise choice. Raquel is very ’70s, isn’t it?”

“More than Sandee, certainly,” said Chloe.

“That’s Persephone Petals to you!” insisted Sandee, referring to the stage name often found on the marquee at various clubs around town.

“Sorry, Persephone. Anyway, we should be getting a pic of this Raquel chick any minute. Bee will forward it to your phone. Can you ask around at your usual haunts and see if she’s been in? Be discreet, of course.”

“Of course,” Sandee said. “I’m the soul of discretion.”

“That’s what your mom said.”

“Well, mother is most definitely not in the slightest bit discreet,” said Sandee with a wink. “Toodles, chica. I’ll check in if I find your woman.” Sandee started to turn and walk away but stopped as Chloe gently touched a bare shoulder.

“Check in even if you don’t, ok?” said Chloe. “There’s a lot of strangers in town tonight.”

“I know,” said Sandee, giving Chloe a kiss on the cheek. “I’m one of them.”

Chloe watched Sandee sashay up the block, back toward Duval. She reflected for a moment on how lucky they were to have found San for the Crew. Without the help of a Key West native - or conch as they preferred to be called - she and Paul might never have cracked this town. Now they practically had the whole island in their grasp. Assuming this Isaiah fucker didn’t screw everything up with whatever he was up to.

“Bee just got the pic,” said Paul, breaking her out of her reverie. “Should be on your phone any minute.”

“Ok,” said Chloe. “Where do you want to cover?”

“I was planning on hitting the mega-bars and tourist traps tonight anyway to recruit for the party, might as well make my rounds as planned.”

“But maybe no party recruiting, right?” chided Chloe. She immediately regretted her tone as soon as she saw annoyance flash across Paul’s face. He hated being reminded of the obvious. “As you already no doubt knew…”

“Right,” said Paul. He didn’t seem angry, but then, just one of the things she loved about him was that he was good at letting little things like that go. “But I need to pass out new addresses to a few bartenders and waiters tonight. So I figured I’d show Raquel’s pic around at the same time.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Chloe. “San has central Duval covered. I’ll hop on my scooter and tour the periphery.”

“And when and if we find her, I assume our first call is most definitely not to Isaiah,” said Paul.

“Of course not. Let’s hear her side of the story first. She no doubt knows more about Isaiah and whatever the fuck he’s up to than we do.”

“She would have to - we don’t know anything.”

“Not yet,” Chloe said. “But the night is young.”

“I put Bee on Isaiah as well,” said Paul. “She’s digging around looking for anything she can find on him and where he might be staying.”

“I hope she’s careful,” said Chloe. Bee was an amazing engineer and the best with gadgets, but she was no hacker. She knew her way around a computer, but from what Winston had said, Isaiah was a primo, oldschool hacker. He’d sniff Bee’s digital scent a mile away if she got close to anything sensitive.

“She’ll be fine,” Paul assured her. Chloe wasn’t as confident, and decided to give Bee a warning call once she was alone.

“You’re probably right,” she said, pulling him close for a kiss. “Now let’s get on this thing. And remember, Raquel’s probably not at the Pirate’s Den.”

Paul laughed. Chloe teasing him about the strippers at the Pirate’s Den was now an old joke between them even though, truth be told, Chloe usually had more fun in the Den than Paul did. “You can never be too thorough in these matters,” he said. “I’ll leave no stone unturned.”

Then they both checked their e-mail on their phones, downloading Raquel’s picture onto their screens. She was a pretty, if severe, looking woman. Latin features and coloring, short, black hair. The pic looked like it came off a security camera - she certainly didn’t seem aware that her picture was being taken. Still, it was a good, clear shot, and if the woman still looked the same, anyone who’d seen her recently shouldn’t have any problem recognizing her.

Chloe watched Paul as he followed Sandee, heading back toward Duval. She took off at a jog, headed back to Artist’s Alley where she’d left her scooter. Considering the Vespa’s security system and the thumbprint recognition device in the left handlebar, it should still be there. At her current pace, she would be in the seat and motoring in less than five minutes.

Since the weather had finally, finally, finally turned from unbearably hot to pleasantly warm, Chloe had been jogging a lot lately, usually covering six or seven miles as she zigzagged through Old Town’s streets or covered the island’s perimeter. She memorized street names and house numbers and explored alleyways as she ran. Although she was somewhat frustrated by Key West’s small size, she did feel like she was getting to know every little nook and cranny of its streets, which gave her a certain sureness of place she’d never quite felt in the vast sprawl of Silicon Valley.

Chloe turned left on Simonton, retracing the path she and Paul had walked earlier with Winston. With fewer people on the sidewalk she increased her pace, running west to her Vespa. She got a few stares from drivers passing by, but she decided that time was more important than avoiding attention. Right now all she wanted was to find Raquel before Isaiah’s Crew tracked her down. At the very least it would be a sign that she really did have some pull in this city and might therefore strengthen her position. If she was lucky, she could make some deal with Raquel or learn something that she and Paul could use to their advantage going into this negotiation or revolution or whatever it was.

Closing in on her destination, Chloe slowed her pace to a trot and then a quick walk as she turned onto the more populated streets by the marina and saw a pair of cops standing not fifteen feet away. Nothing attracted police attention like someone running. They were right between her and where she needed to be, but she wasn’t worried. Key West cops kept the drunks in line and harassed street dealers and street walkers. They had no idea about the Crew or any of the crazy shit she and Paul were up to. She saw that the two officers, dressed in white shirts marked “Police,” shorts and heavy black belts weighed down with pistol, nightstick and radio, were doing one of their other favorite duties - harassing the homeless.

In this case though, Chloe recognized the young woman they were questioning so intently. And at that moment the young woman noticed and recognized her as well. She was small, with pixie-like features and long, stringy brown hair. She wore a