Search & Recovery: A Retrieval Artist Universe Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

shuddered. His five best security operatives were here, protecting him.
    In fact, he corrected, I’ll send as much security as I can. That school needs protecting .
    His team was following him, all dealing with the unfolding crisis on their links. Keith Jakande, the best security operative Deshin had ever had, grabbed him by the elbow and hustled him toward the door.
    Deshin turned to him, snapped, “Push much harder and I’m going to fall.”
    “We have to go, sir,” Jakande said. “There’s a crisis—”
    “I know,” Deshin said, but he let Jakande pull him through the growing crowd to a side door Deshin hadn’t even known existed. The three men on this security team were all large, “grown on Earth,” his wife liked to say, because they had a solidness that was common on Earth and harder to find in anyone who had traveled or grown up in space.
    They made Deshin feel small.
    The smaller members of the team, both female, were covering his back. Usually the smaller members of his security team disappeared into crowds, but right now, all five were protecting him.
    It took Deshin a moment to remember that he was considered someone important in Armstrong as well. If they—the mysterious “they”—were targeting the power structure in Armstrong, of course they would come after him.
    And his family.
    His heart was pounding, his mouth dry.
    He wasn’t afraid—he rarely felt fear—but he was getting angry.
    He sent for the teams to go to Aristotle Academy through his links, then told Jakande through their private links to make sure the best people were heading there.
    “I sent the best team to your home,” Jakande said, sounding worried.
    The choice: Gerda or Paavo. Deshin’s heart constricted.
    “It’s all right,” he said. “Just send a lot of people to that school.”
    He had a hunch other important parents would be sending their security teams to the academy as well.
    He hoped. Because he couldn’t get home fast enough to protect anyone. They were on their own, and he had to trust his staff to protect the people he valued the most.

 
     
     
     
    FOUR
     
     
    BERHANE WAS NEARLY to the exit of the luxury departure lounge when a red warning label crossed her links. Voices echoed in her head at the same time, and images appeared on all the screens.
    Until further notice, The Port of Armstrong has been locked down by order of the Armstrong Police Department .
    She stopped walking, just like everyone around her did. She looked toward the nearest screen while sending a request for clarification through her links.
    Screens appeared on all the walls, including some screens that had been hidden. The images on the screens alternated. One screen carried information about the closure notification, while the screen next to it showed the exterior of O’Malley’s Diner near the port. The exterior views came from overhead. A few tried to show the ground, but hands blocked the cameras, and then those cameras winked out.
    “What the—?” asked a woman next to her.
    Berhane shook her head. She had no idea. She’d been to O’Malley’s a million times, usually with her father at some fundraiser. In fact, she normally would have been with her father right now at some other location, at a speech the governor-general was giving for the Anniversary Day commemorations.
    Berhane hated Anniversary Day. She would rather ignore the fact that on this day, her mother had been blown to bits by Etaen terrorists—or someone associated with them. The bomber had never been caught.
    The bomb had blown a hole in the dome, and if the sections hadn’t come down, everyone would have died.
    Berhane still had nightmares about that train, about the blood she’d seen, the bisected car—and the rubble where her mother had been. The smell of burnt electronics still gave her the shudders.
    “Do you know what’s happening?” a man asked her.
    She turned. It was the man she had spoken to a few minutes before. He had his daughter,