Cursed Command (Angel in the Whirlwind Book 3) by Christopher Nuttall

Author:Christopher Nuttall [Nuttall, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781503943971
Publisher: 47North
Published: 2017-03-06T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Jorlem’s spaceport zone, William discovered as he strode down the main street, was essentially identical to a hundred other such spaceports he’d seen in his long career. The streets were lined with bars and brothels, loud music echoing through the air as streams of spacers made their way from their shuttlecrafts into the nearest bars. A cluster of young women in skimpy dresses waved at him as he passed, clearly taking him for yet another spacer out for a good time. William ignored them as he kept moving, following the map he’d loaded into his implants. His destination was right on the edge of the zone.

And Henderson died somewhere like this, he reminded himself. I need to stay alert.

The building looked more like a prison than a bar, he noted, as he approached a surrounding fence. The official maps didn’t show any of the security precautions, but orbital observations confirmed the existence of a kill zone surrounding the spaceport, a zone where escaping spacers could be spotted and shot without hesitation. President Alexis would have to be insane to risk shooting spacers on shore leave, William thought, but it was clear he didn’t want to risk contamination. Who knew what ideas foreign spacers might introduce to his people.

The bar loomed up in front of him, utterly unremarkable, making little attempt to attract customers. William wasn’t surprised. The people who had business at the bar would know about it. Anyone else would be quietly told to move on as quickly as possible. William pushed the door open and stepped into the lobby. A bouncer, his enhanced muscles clearly visible even through the nice suit he wore, glared at him suspiciously. William gazed back evenly.

“I’m expected,” he said simply.

The bouncer checked his ID, then scanned his body with a handheld sensor. William suspected the gesture was pointless—he would be astonished if the local security service didn’t know about the bar’s true line of work—but he had a feeling it helped reassure some of the customers. They would prefer to hold their discussions well away from the prying eyes and ears of the planetary government.

And everyone else too, William thought as he was shown into the bar. Jorlem is a haven for spies.

He smiled in genuine amusement as he heard soft music playing. The bar looked like a high-class officer’s joint rather than the cruder places reserved for merchant spacers and ordinary crewmen. Instead of dancing girls, the space offered a handful of privacy booths and a number of waitresses dressed in elegant uniforms. One of them bowed politely to William, then led him towards the nearest booth. His implants reported a number of security fields blinking into existence as he sat down, making it hard to record anything. The technology wasn’t quite on par with that of the Commonwealth, he noted, but it was good enough to disrupt anything short of his implants. Even their readings would be very limited.

“Mr. Abramson will be down in a few moments,” the waitress said. “Can I fetch you anything?”

“Fresh orange and lemonade,” William said.

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