Shock zinged through me. She had the capability of doing that? Why didn’t I know that? It wasn’t the kind of question I wanted to ask right now.
Still sitting in the oversized chair, I thought through the charter papers I’d signed to set up the roadhouse and what guarantees were included. There was a privacy clause, but it mostly said I couldn’t divulge anything learned on the premises from one club to the next; it didn’t prevent me from acquiring info. “Okay. Contact Tomika’s morphon. Ask if she’ll talk to me. Set up a chat. And hey. I liked what you and Gomez did with the vid communications in the office, to hide the background. Very slick.”
“Anticipated and standard procedure,” she said, sounding more like CAIT, her original call sign for the SunStar. “Captain Mateo set it up a long time ago.”
During the war. Got it.
“Okay. Thank you. Set up a chat.” I relaxed into the chair, which was built for the huge Bug captain who was dead but not decomposing—which was strange—in a lower level.
“Shining Sugah, there ain’t no airports suitable for landing a cargo plane big enough to haul twelve motorcycles, riders, and gear. I’m thinking they used container trucks.”
“That makes things harder.”
Jolene made a soft “Mmmm. I reckon it does.”
The chair molded more closely to my shape. With a fingertip, I put a map of Logan city up on the screen. Too many ways in and out. I’d never be able to anticipate how many riders would show up at some currently unspecified location. I began cataloging the weapons and items I’d need to go to war. It was a long list unless I took the Simba, which I did not want to do. Not to fight a military-nonmilitary group of riders who might have air support, despite the current unlikelihood of cargo planes being used to transport them. Heavy-lift helos maybe . . .
“The prez of the Sisters of the Cross is available now,” Joleen said.
Tomika’s face appeared on the center portion of the screen, a narrow morphon shot. She adjusted the screen for a wider shot, scowling, half her hair slicked back, the other half sticking out and partially braided. “I was getting my hair done,” she snapped. “This better be important.”
Succinctly, I filled her in about the kid, the missing girl, and the riders who had been attacking.
“This club ain’t one a your supportin’ clubs. I ain’t going to war on you asking.”
“Not asking. Jolene, put the tats up on the screen, please.”
The pics appeared, the bodies bullet riddled, burned, and very dead. Tomika’s fingers tapped and scanned through the pics. She didn’t react to the dead. Dead bodies were so commonthese days, no one paid much attention unless it was one of their own.
I focused the pics of the scarlet tats. They were flying dragons, blowing flame in shades of yellow and red. Ink these shades of red and yellow had been developed during the war, but it was hard to find and expensive. “I’m concerned with the dragon tats.”
“Zoom in on the ink in question,” she said, still irritated but more interested.
Jolene adjusted the cams. The inked dragons enlarged on the screen, red and gold and thin lines of navy blue, blowing flames and gray smoke from their nostrils.
“Damn fine work,” she said.
“Bodies don’t show up on a viber,” I said.
“Military boys. Or former. Special Ops. Different branches. Bet when they rotated out after the war, a lot of gear disappeared with them. That dragon? That’s gotta be Haruto’s work. Guy came over from Japan during the war, brought his ink recipes, set up shop in Atlanta until the city was attacked by MamaBots. Then he moved to ’Nooga.”
Chattanooga, Tennessee. Too far for me to drop in and talk to the guy.
She looked back over her shoulder and called, “Mags. Haruto still in Chat-town? Yeah? Where’d he set up shop? Get me the link.” She turned back to the screen. “I’ll send it to you. Now go away.” The screen went dark.
I was making friends all over, it seemed. So why not make it worse . . . even if I looked like a desperate and ignored Old Lady. Choosing words that would keep me sounding businesslike, I tapped my morphon and sent an audio message to Jagger. “Contact me when you can. We have a situation that involves someone you know.” I clicked off.
“Jolene? Will you send a message to the link Tomika sent us and ask for vid chat with Haruto?”
“Yup,” Jolene said. A half second later she added, “I attempted to link with the person Haruto. His system has an auto feature that tells me he isn’t taking messages. I’m attempting to access his security system.”
I grunted and contacted Mateo, telling him where I was going and what I’d be doing.
“Just you and me?” he asked. “Or are we taking Cupcake and Amos?”
I hadn’t asked him to go, and I hesitated, thinking through the logistics. “It’s a long trek for you in warbot form.”
“While the construction was going on, Jolene and I were working on something. I’ll drive a Quadro.” His voice took on what might have been excitement in a flesh and blood voice. “Wait until you see it.”
