Gameprey

14

“We lost them,” Detective John Holmes announced as he strode into the conference room.

Maj had taken advantage of one of the implant chairs in the room and jumped into her own veeyar. She didn’t have access to all the investigation’s progress through the LAPD’s systems, but the local HoloNet servers were doing a good job.

Logged into her own veeyar and taking advantage of the room’s holoprojector systems, she was able to be on hand and access the Net at the same time. She had nine windows opened up to different media servers at present. Several of the stations covering the gaming convention were already doing back-story pieces on Peter Griffen, and she copied those immediately, archiving them as files.

Catie and Megan sat in one corner, engaged in their own conversation. Matt, Mark, and Leif, although actually still in-flight, occupied chairs at the main table with Captain Winters, who was really still back in his office as well. Andy had returned to the game room as the various services came back online.

Holmes glanced at his watch. “Uniforms found the vehicle less than two miles from here. It had been abandoned at a bar.”

“What about Peter?” Maj asked.

“He wasn’t there.”

“He was injured,” Maj said.

Holmes shrugged. “The investigating officers reported there was blood in the back of the van, but said it wasn’t enough to cause any real concern.”

“Other than the fact that Peter was forcibly kidnapped in front of thousands of witnesses.”

“We’re investigating, Miss Green. But we’re also checking into the possibility that this is a publicity stunt.”

“They wouldn’t have to do that,” Catie put in. “Did you see that dragon? That alone would sell millions of copies. And the presentation Peter did had the whole audience wanting more.”

“That would seem a little extreme, don’t you think?” Winters asked. “If this was a staged event, Eisenhower Productions could be convicted of criminal charges.”

“Look, Captain Winters,” Holmes said with a trace of fatigue in his voice, “this city is one wild ride after another. We’re home to Hollywood, a major portion of the gaming industry, and every vice you can name. With millions of people living here, working here, and visiting, you have to stand out from the crowd if you want to get noticed.”

“Peter was already doing that,” Maj said.

Holmes was quiet for a moment. “We’re following up on a lead that the kidnapping was staged.”

“Who has given you that information?” Winters asked.

“Sir,” Holmes said, “with all due respect, you’re out of your jurisdiction at the moment. The only reason I mention this at all is because your people got caught up in some nasty business last night, and I felt I owed that to you. But for now, we believe that the two events are unrelated.”

“I hope you’re not forgetting they could be,” Winters said dryly.

A nerve twitched at the corner of Holmes’s jaw. “No, sir. Not for a minute. But my CO is taking the stance that they’re not. I have to follow that line. For now.”

“Understood, Detective. I appreciate your honesty.”

Holmes turned to Maj. “Look, I know you’re worried about this guy. I am, too.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m getting subpoenas delivered now to different media branches to access their vid files as well as processing witnesses and accounting for people who were physically here as well as in holoform. That’s going to take time.”

“I know,” Maj replied.

“And if this is some kind of publicity stunt,” Holmes said grimly, “Griffen and Eisenhower Productions are going to need a battalion of lawyers to get out of this.”

“Even then,” Megan said, “fines and court costs are going to be a drop in the bucket against the profits the game makes.”

Holmes nodded and glanced around the room. “I don’t figure you people are much on listening when someone tells you to keep your nose out of things, but consider this that speech just the same. Because if you step too heavily around this investigation, you’re going to find out how downright unfriendly I can be. I hope we’re clear on that.”

Maj nodded. Even as Net Force Explorers they didn’t have any official sanction.

Holmes turned and headed for the door, stopping just short of exiting and looking back at the group. “If you do happen to find out something I should know, make sure I do. You’ve got the number.” He stepped back out into the hallway into a stream of people waiting to be processed through the police cordon.

Maj closed the media feeds and logged off the Net. When she opened her eyes again, she was in the implant chair in the conference room. She sat up and looked at Winters. “Is Net Force going to get involved?”

“Not at this point,” Winters told her. “The LAPD is convinced what they’re dealing with here is a publicity stunt aimed at increasing game sales. Net Force is in agreement. Personally, I think it wouldn’t hurt to take a look and run a few things down. However, there’s some political pressure to keep Net Force out. When we get involved, media coverage gets even more pronounced.”

“But why keep Net Force out?” Maj asked. “Isn’t media exposure a bonus?”

“Except that the gaming community doesn’t like the idea of Net Force acting like Big Brother. The gaming world taps into a lot of various conspiracy theories, and throwing Net Force into the mix would only be adding fuel to the fire.”

“The other gaming corporations are also talking about suing Peter Griffen and Eisenhower Productions for infringing on their own game advertisements,” Leif said. “Apparently that dragon put in an appearance in nearly every game at the convention.”

“And you know this how?” Catie asked.

Leif gave a small smile. “I took a peek at my dad’s information research agency’s reports over what happened out here. Part of the potential profits being set up here involve stock portfolios. Potential liability in the form of civil suits against a corporation are big news in business.”

“They may impact profits,” Matt said, “but sales of the game are still going to skyrocket, and that will impact profits, too.”

Maj knew it was true. Even as the police had closed down the gaming area, there had been hundreds of people lined up, demanding to by the online package that would let them enter Realm of the Bright Waters when it went up on the Net.

“If the profit is big enough,” Leif agreed, “lawsuits and litigation are written off as the price of doing business. The kidnapping has sent a tremor through the stock market. Eisenhower shares are presently down, but speculators are snapping them up.”

“Is Eisenhower Productions publicly owned?” Winters asked.

Leif closed his eyes for a moment. “Forty-three percent.”

“Hold up,” Catie said. “Publicly owned doesn’t ring any bells for me.”

“There are two kinds of stock,” Leif explained. “Actually, there are all kinds of stock options, but I’m going to hold it to two for a thumbnail overview. Public stock is shares that are sold to Joe Consumer, anyone who goes online and buys into corporations. Then there’s private stock, stock held back from public trading for special investors. Usually other friendly corporations or entrepreneurs.”

“Keeping private stock private prevents hostile takeovers,” Megan said. “I remember that from the research my dad did on one of his mystery novels.”

“True,” Leif said, “but you’d be amazed at how many buyouts still happen and no one knows who the players are until the last moment.”

“How financially secure is Eisenhower Productions?” Winters asked.

Leif shrugged. “I can look into it.”

Winters nodded. “That might be a place to start. It would help to know—if they were involved in faking this kidnapping — if they were desperate or just plain greedy.”

“Yes, sir.”

Winters called the meeting to an end and excused himself, his holoform winking out of existence a heartbeat later. Mark, Matt, and Leif said their good-byes as well.

“We missed lunch,” Catie announced, standing up and stretching tiredly. “There’s supposed to be a great Chinese place around the corner. Want to find out?”

Maj nodded distractedly. Her mind whirled, trying to make sense of the events that had happened. She didn’t doubt for a minute that last night’s raid on her hotel room and Peter Griffen’s kidnapping were connected. She just didn’t know how. But her intuition pinged the connection dead center, and it was something she’d learned to trust over the years.

“—at the Bessel Mid-Town Hotel, where computer game design wizard Peter Griffen was believed kidnapped earlier today. Veronica, what can you tell us?”

Standing at the arrival gate lobby in LAX, Maj watched the HoloNet on units hanging from the ceiling. The view cut from the anchor to the blond reporter she recognized from the news reports that morning. She stood out in front of the Bessel Midtown Hotel in front of a nearby crowd that watched her. Her name, Veronica Rivers, was tagged under the time/date stamp in the lower right corner.

“Things here are still confusing, Frank,” Veronica said. “As you can tell from the crowd behind me, there’s a lot of interest in the whereabouts of Peter Griffen after today’s excitement.”

The holo split, picking up the image of the granite-jawed anchor sitting at his desk and placing it beside the street scene of the reporter. “Have police made any headway in the kidnapping investigation?”

“If they have, they aren’t letting us know.” Veronica waved at the hotel. “In fact, there’s a lot of speculation going on now that this kidnapping might not have been a kidnapping at all, but a publicity stunt created by Griffen and his software publishers to generate sales of his new game.”

“Those are serious charges,” the anchor said.

Maj shook her head. After all the advances in technology, the media still relied on melodrama to capture viewers. She wanted to stop watching, but she found she couldn’t.

“Wow,” Catie said as she joined her. “They got that out quick.”

“No news spreads like bad news,” Maj replied. She glanced around the lobby, carefully avoiding the press of dozens of passengers who’d just off-loaded. Megan stood by the gate window, peering up at the sky as they waited for Leif, Matt, and Andy’s flight to arrive.

“After the rumors about the faked kidnapping started circulating,” Veronica continued on HoloNet, “I asked the lead detective on the case about it.”

The view cut away suddenly to a gray-haired man with a hound-dog face and gravelly voice. A tag appeared briefly beneath him: BRUCE TOLLIVER, CAPTAIN OF DETECTIVES, LAPD. “Yes, we’re aware of the rumors, and we’re looking into them. Since this might be a kidnapping, we have to assume a life may be in jeopardy.”

“Have any ransom demands been made yet, Captain Tolliver?” Veronica asked.

“Not yet.”

“Isn’t that unusual?” the reporter asked.

“Actually, that’s not exceptional,” Tolliver replied.

“Do you believe there was a kidnapping today?” Veronica asked.

“I can’t comment on that.”

The scene cut back to the split view of anchor and reporter. “We’ve had other reactions to today’s bizarre events,” Veronica went on. A series of sound and vid bytes followed.

“He looked sad,” a young woman said. The shot had evidently been taken inside the convention room right after the kidnapping. “Really sad. But I don’t think he kidnapped himself. I mean, who would do that? You’d have to be kind of sick, right?”

“This business is all about attention,” a guy in his thirties said. A tag under him read, MIKE SIMON, GAME DESIGNER.

“I just want to play that game,” a teenage boy said enthusiastically. “It’s going to be so cool.”

“Now, there’s sympathy for you,” Catie commented.

Maj nodded.

“We also interviewed Griffen’s lawyers,” Veronica went on. The scene cut to an older man in an Italian suit.

“The whole idea that Eisenhower Productions or Peter had a hand in engineering something like this is totally ludicrous,” Brett Harper, attorney-at-law, said. “First off, a fiasco like this is highly irresponsible. The law enforcement agencies involved are not going to be amused, and Peter would never think of potentially alienating his fans in this manner.”

The scene cut back to the reporter. “What we have so far, Frank, is a mystery that only Peter Griffen or the people responsible for his disappearance can solve.”

“Hey, they’re here,” Megan called from the gate.

Maj and Catie joined her as the first passengers came through. Surprisingly, Matt, Andy, and Leif were among them.

“First class,” Catie teased. “Somebody’s moving up in the world.”

“It was the only way to get three seats together,” Leif said. He looked at Maj with concern as they walked through the terminal. “You look like you could use some rest.”

“Thanks. That does my confidence a world of good.”

Leif glanced around the lobby. “Okay, it’s been awhile since I was in LAX. Where are the baggage claim areas?”

Maj pointed to the signs. As she did, her attention was caught by the HoloNet presentation again. A holo image of Peter from the convention occupied center stage with images of the great dragon hanging high overhead. Her mind flashed on the image of Peter when she’d first seen him, dressed in armor and on Sahfrell’s back. Then she noticed the rest of the group was waiting on her.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I’m a little preoccupied.”

“Hey,” Leif said softly, “it’s okay.”

Maj shook her head. “I don’t think so. According to the police, there hasn’t been a ransom demand yet.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean anything bad,” Megan said. “Kidnappers wait a day or so just to let the family get worried before they make their move.”

“That’s the way your dad wrote it in his novel,” Maj pointed out. One of R. F. O’Malley’s best-sellers had involved the kidnapping of an operating room nurse from Walter Reed, and the story got even more complicated from there. “In real life kidnappers have a tendency to kill their victims. No witness equals no crime. More often than not, kidnap victims don’t come home to their families.”

No one had anything to say about that, and when the holo of Peter Griffen disappeared from the media broadcast, everything seemed awkward.

Matt walked over and put his arm around Maj’s shoulders. “Don’t sell us out so early. We’re just getting on the ground with this thing. We’ve always made a difference before.”

“We’re not above failing, and you know that.” Maj remembered Julio Cortez. The Net Force Explorers had tried to help him escape the situation he had been in. They’d gotten his family out, but not Julio.

“We’re not going to fail,” Matt said, his eyes still showing hurt from that mission. “That’s not going to happen.”

“It’s not about failing, Matt. I’m just afraid we’re already too late.”

Gaspar Latke sat in the corner of the room that had become his prison and watched Heavener standing in front of one of the blacked-out polarized windows. She talked over an encrypted foilpack in a verbal shorthand he couldn’t keep track of. She made things even more complicated by speaking in Russian. It was her habit to change languages on a regular basis.

Heavener was obviously unhappy. The emotion showed in the stiff way she held herself and the clipped tone she used. When she was finished, she snapped the foilpack closed and turned on him with catlike quickness.

She’s going to kill me. Gaspar trembled.

Instead, she said, “I’ll be back.”

“Su-sure.” He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to stay warm.

A small smile dusted Heavener’s lips, and he knew she was enjoying his fear.

Gaspar peered through the doorway after she left, knowing he’d never open it on his own. It let out into a hallway filled with shadows and blank doors. Heavener faded into the darkness before the door closed.

Feek! Gaspar wanted to shout and vent the frustration and fear that were eating him up. The attention Peter Griffen had gotten at the convention, all that he knew about Realm of the Bright Waters, those guaranteed his death.

He forced himself into motion, dropping into one of the implant chairs and onto the Net. Jumping free of the warehouse location on the Net, knowing he didn’t have much time, he boosted himself through a sat-link and headed for Alexandria, Virginia. The reports Heavener had gotten included Madeline Green’s home address as well as her Net location.

On the Net, he hovered above her house and quickly sorted through the virtual connections she had to the Net. Most visitors to veeyar never noticed them, but Gaspar had programming that allowed him to make the connections visible. A lot of crackers did.

He blinked, then studied the electronic circuitry that stemmed from Madeline Green’s room. All of it was protected behind firewalls that looked like glassy-blue force fields. Knowing Heavener might return at any moment, he hurried when he should have hesitated. He spun a fiberoptic cable from his chest and shot it toward the system’s mail utility link. Since he wasn’t breaking in to destroy anything or to try to leave an archived virus bombpack, he knew leaving the message would be easy. But as soon as the fiberoptic cable touched the e-mail utility link, a hand stabbed out of the cable, coated in the same black plastic as the cable. It made a fist around the fiberoptic cable.

“You’re not going anywhere,” a triumphant voice announced.