Traffic cameras and plate readers tracked the car to an underground lot.
Lachlan finds car seven parked neatly, untouched and unlocked.
Where Julian went from here is almost impossible to determine, but Lachlan knows him. Suspects he’s done something different.
Bigger.
Downtown Varrow isn’t far from here.
‘Control, do you have it cloned yet?’
‘Almost, Kestrel.’
‘Any luck on Danya’s end?’
‘Negative.’
‘I think Jules is downtown.’
‘Why do you think that?’
‘Because it’s maximum risk.’
‘How do you want to proceed, Kestrel?’ Rook asks.
‘Keep everything locked down on your end. I’m going in to find him. Let me know when the clone transfer is complete.’
‘Heard, Kestrel.’
Lachlan drives into downtown Varrow, where the city compresses into light, noise and human traffic. Clubs and bars crowd every block, spilling music and drunken bodies onto the sidewalks. Rideshares choke the intersections. New Year’s Eve revellers surge across the streets without warning, skidding on dark, sludgy snow and ice.
It’s the worst possible place to find one person.
Which is precisely why Jules chose it.
He parks the car on a quiet side street and takes only what he needs from his go-bag, mostly weapons and a small med kit, all of it easy to conceal.
‘Kestrel, this is Control. Come in.’
‘Give me good news.’
‘His phone is cloned. I’m transferring it to your burner right now. Once you restart it, you should be good to go.’
‘Where’s Danya?’
‘He’s on his way to you.’
‘Heard.’
Lachlan walks the streets, scanning, very much in Focus Mode. Julian is here somewhere, but it’s a huge area heaving with bodies and noise. He reboots the burner and waits.
Control has restored Jules’ latest managed backup onto a clean burner and provisioned his number to it, preserving his contacts and outgoing caller ID. The original is dark somewhere with Jules, its cellular modem disabled. Jules is far too fucking smart to carry a beacon.
Lachlan scrolls through his contacts, reading his friends’ names.
When he lands on Marnie, he stops and hits dial.
It rings four times.