Who Hunts the Hunter Read Online Free PDF

chimes, the doors slip apart.
    Amy steps ahead briskly, Laurena at her side, into the richly appointed reception area for the executive “manor”, as it’s called. It’s one of the few places where Hurley-Cooper Labs has invested any significant money in what amounts to mere window dressing. To the left and right are the office suites of Hurley-Cooper’s CEO and executive VP. Directly ahead, to the rear of the circular reception counter, are the gleaming rosewood doors to the executive conference room.
    Flanking the conference room doors this morning are a pair of distinctly Asian men with distinctly impassive features and trim physiques. The pins on the lapels of their dark blue suits bear the green willow insignia of Kono-Furata-Ko International, parent corporation of Hurley-Cooper Labs. Amy guesses these men are security agents, escorts for the Tokyo bunch. She understands that KFK has a large covert security organization, but knows little about it. Officially, it does not exist. If it has a name, she’s never heard it.
    One of the agents gives her a nod. She passes through the open doors and into the conference room. It’s large enough to be ridiculous, and lavishly decorated: simwood paneling, gilt-framed portraits of various corporate heavyweights, a full range of electronics, including a wall-sized video screen. The conference table, apparently made of mahogany, is easily long and broad enough to seat a small multitude. Each place at the table comes with miniterms jacked into the headquarters computer network. The chairs look like mahogany, too, though upholstered in dark burgundy leather or synthleather.
    Laurena takes a seat along one wall and jacks her palmtop into the network, then lifts a second platinum lead to her temple. Amy walks to the head of the room to join the group there. The minor luminaries are already present: the VPs for Systems Engineering, Information Management, Marketing and Patents, Research, Product Development, Finance. Amy herself holds the post of VP for Corporate Resources. Her specific domain includes personnel, purchasing, and consumption control. She and Chang, the money man—finance and accounting—interface frequently. Usually concerning nuyen.
    Chang gives her a nervous flicker of a glance.
    Amy replies with a quick, questioning flick of an eyebrow.
    But then the doors at the head of the room swing open and the meeting’s as good as begun. In comes the executive VP and some Asian man Amy doesn’t recognize. Behind them come Hurley-Cooper’s CEO Vernon Janasova and KFK’s VP for Corporate Liaison-North America, Enoshi Ken. Enoshi looks very much the proper Asian executive, immaculate in a dark blue suit bearing a KFK lapel pin. Janasova looks exactly his usual self: checked sports coat and slacks, powder blue tie over a pastel yellow shirt. One collar of the shirt is neatly secured by a platinum tab. The other tab is open, the collar protruding at a burlesque angle. By comparison to that, the bedlam of the man’s thin gray hair is hardly noticeable. Amy forces herself to suppress an unseemly reaction, such as a roll of the eyes or a sigh of dismay.
    Janasova immediately begins introducing Enoshi around.
    “Yes, I remember,” Enoshi says, briefly clasping Amy’s hand."A pleasure, Ms. Berman.”
    “Likewise,” Amy replies.
    And then, abruptly, Enoshi smiles.
    Amy mutes her response, struggles to appear composed, like nothing untoward has occurred.
    During his rapid rise from obscurity, Enoshi Ken has become well known as something of a sphinx. He never smiles, except as an afterthought, and even then the smiles are so ill-timed that they seem deliberately indicative of something other than mere good humor. Amy gains a sense of foreboding, in addition to a sudden chill and a nervous something that rises into her stomach. She feels confirmed in her suspicion that nothing good will come of this meeting. Nothing good at all.
    They’re invited to sit. Janasova begins the