The Viperob Files Page 5

  Gwen looked at her watch again and swore violently. She was supposed to have been at the station fifteen minutes earlier. Gwen slapped the lid of her computer closed and slotted it back into the hidden compartment, closing the safe and moving the couch back to the usual position against the wall. She took a last look around the room to ensure everything was in order, then snatched her security passes off the bench and bolted for the door.

  Gwen maintained a fast pace as she weaved through the crowd in the connecting tunnel, weary faces barely registering the teenage girl that dodged out of their way, running against the flow of returning workers from the Maglev station. The tunnel was an aboveground structure, an enclosed walkway that connected the walled Viperob complex to the station, blocking out the sun and humidity during the day and hunting Tri-Claw at night.

  Gwen found herself mouth-breathing to cope with the smell of the crowd, their musky body odour cloying within the confines of the tunnel. Blue cotton overalls of those she passed were sweat-stained and damp, showing them to be assembly line techs, a class of Viperob employee that had it harder than most. Line techs worked long shifts in conditions that were designed for optimum functioning of the robots they supported rather than human physiology. The robots used on Viperob assembly lines were designed to cope with higher temperatures and humidity so that the corporation could save money on climate control within its factories. Unfortunately, the techs required for ongoing monitoring and servicing of the robot workforce couldn’t be adjusted so easily. The techs managed their machines in conditions more suited to a tropical rainforest, sweating litres every shift. Gwen could only be glad her father had a job in transportation—at least that meant he’d be likely to reach his sixtieth birthday, unlike these men and women.

  Escaping the back end of the crowd, Gwen emerged from the tunnel into the Maglev station. A curved roof soared above, its surface covered in an off-white speckled pattern like the inside of a giant eggshell. Despite its fragile appearance, the roof was specially designed to withstand the frequent tropical storms that battered the coastline. The ground underfoot was covered in mat-grey tiles, perfect lines in stark contrast to the walls and ceiling.

  Gwen slowed her run to a fast walk, the soft tapping of her shoes swallowed by the vast open space. The public area of the station was one huge room. The eggshell roof encompassed four separate rail platforms that stuck out like the teeth of a comb from the near end of the building.

  A low hum of an electric motor started off to her left, a sound that she almost felt as a type of vibration in her chest. Gwen glanced across to see the final passengers board a Maglev train on the second platform, probably the same that had dropped off the Line Techs, before the doors closed with a pneumatic hiss. The carriages of the train were domed, shaped like a bullet with a flat base carved out for contact with the single track. The roof of the carriages was low, no more than a hand-width above the heads of most standing passengers. The whine of the electric motor escalated to a higher pitch, and suddenly the carriages rose into the air, clear space visible between the glowing track and base of the train. Using magnetic repulsion to hover above the track, the Maglev eased away from the platform. Quickly gaining speed, the train shot towards the far end of the station. A fraction of a second before it collided with the wall, an opening shot upward, just enough for the carriages to fit through with scant millimetres to spare. As the back of the last carriage passed the wall, the opening snapped closed again.

  Gwen veered off to the right, heading for a doorway to exit the public areas of the Maglev station. Two men guided electric trolleys stacked with imported goods towards the same point. One of them chuckled as he saw her heading over.

  “I hope you’ve been practicing an excuse for being late. He’s not in the best of moods today.”

  Gwen groaned as she tagged along beside the worker, the doorway automatically opening for the trolleys. “Come on, Phil, I’m only half an hour late. He wouldn’t have even noticed.”

  Gwen had known Phil for as long as she could remember. One of the first men her dad brought into the fold, he’d been like an uncle, always watching out for her whenever she worked in the station.

  Phil’s eyes smiled as he looked at her. “Don’t worry, it’s not just you. He’s annoyed because security’s been hovering closer than usual.”

  Gwen felt a niggle of anxiety twinge in her chest. “Did they find anything important?”

  “Are you kidding?” said Phil, smirking. “Those dimwits couldn’t find the nose on their own face. Still, it’d make everyone happier if they just buggered off and let us get on with it.”

  The doors closed behind them, blocking off the view from the station platforms along with any inquisitive eyes of the public. She said goodbye to Phil with a brief wave and went in search of her father. Compared to the soaring roof and open space of the common areas surrounding the platforms, the warehouse section of the station appeared cramped and dull. Grey concrete stained with oil and other unknown substances lay between aisles of wide shelving. Each large enough to hold a pallet, they reached ten metres into the air until they brushed the ceiling.

  Gwen walked past the aisles where other transit workers were busy unloading or loading trolleys, peering down each one for her father. She found him in a far corner of the warehouse, kneeling next to a pallet with tablet in hand. As she approached, Marco glanced up at her, mouth tightening slightly before returning his attention to the information on the tablet.

  “You’re late,” he muttered.

  “Sorry, I got caught up with homework and lost track of time.”

  “Homework? Or were you ‘researching’ on the Dark Web again? This is becoming a bit of an obsession, Gwen.”

  She bit her lip, preferring to stay quiet than tell an outright lie to her father.

  Marco used the tablet to scan a barcode on the pallet, then stood and stared directly at his daughter. “You’re playing with fire. There’s a reason why the government buried that stuff deep. Going looking for it will only end in one way—with you in a federal prison, and neither of us want that.” Marco searched his daughter’s face, his eyes creased with concern. “Can you promise me you’ll stop searching for these documents?”

  “But everything we’ve been taught is a lie,” she whispered. “Don’t you want to know the truth?”

  Marco raised an eyebrow. “Why? I don’t need accurate details from last century to know that the present government sucks. I’d rather we focus on making the best of the situation.” He pulled a tablet computer from a satchel hanging at his waist and passed it to his daughter. “If you want to make a protest, do it in the way that hurts them most. Help me bleed some more money from the bastards.”

  Gwen sighed as she took hold of the device. “Alright, where are we up to?”

  Marco smiled for the first time and gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “That’s my girl. I’ve just finished scanning in the pallets, minus the produce we’ve taken—not a whole lot this time, mainly tech gear and medications.” He leant over her shoulder to look at the tablet and tapped the screen to bring up a new page. “Now I just need you to work your magic and hack the official order documents so that the import requests match what’s left.”

  “So just the usual?”

  Her dad nodded.

  Gwen looked around for a seat, and then decided to just park her butt on the ground where she stood. A slight groan escaped her lips as she sat and crossed her legs, thigh muscles complaining at the earlier physical training session. Gwen looked up at her dad again.

  “Phil said that security’s been sticking its nose in more than usual?”

  “He shouldn’t be worrying you with stuff like that, it’s nothing we can’t handle, kiddo,” said Marco with a grimace. “Some bastard’s tipped them off, but they don’t know what they’re looking for yet. I just need to find the right palm to grease, and they’ll start looking the other way again.”

  “You sure?” The thought of her father being haul
ed away for questioning made her gut turn.

  “It’ll be fine, darl. Just get those files changed for me, then you can clear out.”

  Gwen sighed and accepted his assurance, turning her attention back to the tablet screen. Within moments, she was totally absorbed in the task, the outside world forgotten as she got to work.

  Thirty minutes later and the job was done. Gwen stood and stretched, pins and needles tingling her legs from her position on the ground. Gripping the tablet in one hand, she threw her backpack over the other shoulder and set out to find her dad again. She found him in his office at the back of the warehouse and handed back the tablet.

  “The inventory lists all match now.”

  Marco accepted the tablet and placed it back on a charging rack along with twenty others that his workers used.

  “Hey, Dad, you said there was some tech lifted earlier? Anything you need to get rid of quick?”

  “Yeah, there is actually.” He went to a cabinet behind his desk and pulled out a small laptop computer. “I had an urgent request come through from Nikolai Claymore for a device he could use off the Viperob grid.”

  Gwen’s eyebrows raised in mild surprise at the name. “Claymore? Is that Ethan’s father? I never would have thought his old man was into that sort of stuff.”

  Marco just grinned. “Yep, there’s a few rumours that he wasn’t always so straight-laced.” He then pulled a bottle of pills from his pocket and tossed it to her. “And these are for Tamin Gustav, apparently her back’s giving her grief.”

  Gwen snatched the bottle out of the air before reading the label. “Morphinal 20mg tabs. Back pain, eh?” She raised an eyebrow in concern. “More like Mrs Gustav is developing a habit, Dad. That injury was over eight weeks ago, surely she should be off them by now?”

  Marco shrugged. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll tell her this is the last bottle.”

  Gwen placed her backpack on the desk and removed a false floor in the main compartment. The tiny laptop and pill bottle fit snugly within, then she Velcroed back in the base and swung the bag onto her shoulder.

  Fast footsteps approached, slapping on the concrete of the warehouse outside of Marco’s office. Phil’s head popped around the doorway, face tense. “Marco, we’ve got trouble, mate. There’s security wanting to access the warehouse. I’ve got them stalled for the moment, but they’re not going to wait much longer.”

  Gwen’s dad swore. “Bloody hell. Is it that Lieutenant Jacobs again?”

  “I wish. No, we’ve got real problems now. It’s a Spec Ops squad wanting access.”

  Gwen’s heart began to hammer inside her chest as she saw the colour drain from her father’s face. Spec Ops couldn’t be bribed. “Dad, what do we do?” she asked in a tight voice.

  Marco swallowed and took a deep breath. “We let them in. There’s nothing to hide—all the invoices match up and there won’t be anything to find. The rest of the gear’s already been delivered, it’s just your run left to go, Gwen.”

  Marco stepped closer to his daughter and held her face gently between both hands, staring into her eyes. “All you have to do is walk out of this place. No security guard’s going to search a kid. We get rid of today’s stock, then put operations on hold for a while until things cool off.”

  Gwen took a deep, slow breath, willed the tremor in her muscles to ease and shouldered her backpack. “Ok. Let’s get this over and done with.”

  Gwen trailed a few steps behind her father as he approached the doorway back into the main station building. Four officers from the Special Operations branch stood waiting, grey uniforms starched and ironed perfectly. Behind them stood an uninterested-looking officer. Gwen read the name on his chest, Lieutenant Harris, before glancing up to his face again to find him staring directly at her. Pale blue eyes held her gaze without hint of emotion until she looked away.

  “Lieutenant… Harris is it?” said Marco, holding out his hand to shake.

  Harris stared at the hand for a moment, making no move to accept the gesture, before he raised his eyes to Marco’s face. He gave a small, sharp nod. “Yes, I’m here to commence an investigation into a national smuggling racket that has become an embarrassment to the corporation.”

  Marco’s eyebrows rose. “I’ve never come across anything myself, but if there’s truth to the rumour, I hope you catch the bastards, Lieutenant Harris.” Marco waved a hand expansively to invite the Spec Ops guardsmen inside. “I’m at your complete disposal. How can I help?”

  Despite the stress of the situation, Gwen almost cracked a smile at the convincing act of her father. Almost. Unfortunately, his performance didn’t seem to impress the Lieutenant. While her dad held the group’s attention, she decided to make a bolt for it and stepped quietly through the doorway at the side. Just as Gwen thought she was through, one of the grey uniformed officers blocked her path.

  “And where do you think you’re going?” he asked, a twisted half-smile on his face.

  Her dad piped up from behind. “That’s my lovely daughter, Gwen. She’s got an assignment due tomorrow that she needs to go home and finish off.”

  The officer looked at Harris who gave a slight flick of his eyes for him to let her pass. Gwen felt weak at the knees as she made the most of the gap and ducked through, making a beeline for the tunnel back to the tower complex. She stared resolutely ahead, heart hammering as she expected her backpack to be ripped from her shoulders at any second. Finally, Gwen entered the tunnel, and now that she was out of sight, she began to run.

  Harris was bored and somewhat annoyed that he’d been allocated the task of destroying the local black-market trade. They were small-time crooks and as far as he was concerned, barely worth the effort considering how little they ate into company profits. But men like Marco could provide other benefits if controlled properly. They tended to know an awful lot of secrets, secrets about people from all layers of hierarchy within the corporation. And that information could prove very useful as leverage in future investigations.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the girl scurry away. Head kept down, feet moving fast with both hands gripping the straps of her backpack as she walked.

  She was hiding something.

  As his officers began to follow Marco into the warehouse, Harris stopped one of them with a light hand on his shoulder and leant in close to his ear.

  “Follow that girl.”

  Gwen’s heart rate finally started to slow once she was certain she’d lost the officer on her trail. If there hadn’t been such risk involved, she may have found the man’s attempt at subtlety comical. Gwen had noted him following before she’d even left the tunnel. Instead of arresting her like she’d expected, he made a show of retying a shoelace before tailing her at thirty paces.

  Upon entering the tower complex, she dropped him within ten minutes, making use of little-used service and utility passages that few residents cared to explore. Doubling back to ensure she’d truly lost the officer, she’d then taken off at a sprint to deliver the computer and drugs.

  At her light knock on the apartment door, she’d been greeted by the face of a serious-looking middle-aged man. Nikolai had taken the computer without a word, slipping her payment before softly closing the door. That had been ten minutes ago, and now with one last delivery to make, she was taking steps three at a time in the stairwell on her way down to Mrs. Gustav.

  Reaching the landing, Gwen wiped a slick of sweat from her forehead and shouldered the door open.

  Right into the Spec Ops security officer.

  Gwen froze, face blanched. She couldn’t afford to be caught, not with an item still in her bag. Finally, her mind kicked into gear, and she tried to bolt back into the stairwell. The security guard snapped out a hand, grabbed hold of a wrist and wrenched her into the hallway. This time he didn’t play cute, shoving her up against the wall of the corridor. Stars bloomed behind her eyes as her forehead cracked hard against the plaster.

  “You led me on a right bloody cha
se, you little brat!”

  He ripped off her backpack and yanked each hand down behind her back. Gwen whimpered as he pulled a zip-tie closed, the plastic biting painfully into her skin.

  “Don’t move.”

  The guard released his grip on her, picked up the bag and started to rummage within. She watched, unable to tear her eyes away as much as she knew she should appear unconcerned. For a moment, Gwen thought he was going to miss the compartment, but then a sound of tearing Velcro made her heart stutter.

  The guard held up the bottle of Morphilin, mocking her with a triumphant grin. “Bit young to be a drug dealer aren’t you love?”