said as he walked up, tablet computer in his hand. “It’s always so nice to see you leave your cubicle for a little while.”
“Because the air here in the dungeons is so much fresher than what we get on the fourth floor?” He looked at me with a querying eyebrow. “Ariadne asked me to tell you what we found.”
“Found from what?” I asked.
“Fries’ cell phone,” Ariadne replied, smug. “Reed bagged it during your raid. Go on, J.J.”
“Recent history was kind of a boon,” J.J. said, holding up the tablet so I could see. “The man’s not what you’d call real communicative, so it’s not like there was a ton to sift through in his thirty-day history.”
“I’ve heard that incubi and succubi can be a little unsociable,” I said without a trace of irony.
“That might be underselling it for him,” J.J. said. “Two numbers, that’s it. One’s a cell phone that I backtraced. Area code says it’s from Manhattan, but it was last used in downtown Minneapolis yesterday afternoon at about three-thirty p.m.” He held up the tablet and a city grid showed up on the screen. “It wasn’t logging the GPS, but just based on the cell tower data it looks like the user was pretty close to Fries’ apartment when the call was made. After that, it went dark, completely offline, no record that it’s been on the network since.”
“Whoever’s using it is either odd or cautious,” Parks suggested. “They might have seen your team bag Fries and figured you could track them down if they left the phone on for the networks to follow.”
“Or they might just be on planes or not wanting to be disturbed,” J.J. said with a shrug. “It’s not usual behavior for most users to go dark for that long, though, so I think we can assume that the phone is probably disposed of.”
I stared at the map on the tablet computer. “So that’s a dead end unless the phone goes active again. What about the other number?”
J.J. broke into a little smile. “That one is a landline for a house in Des Moines, Iowa.”
“Iowa,” Parks said as though it were some sort of curse. “I hate Iowa.”
“Why?” I asked, and caught a flash of the wolf on Parks’ face when he came around to answer.
“Because between it and the damned Dakotas, there ain’t a more boring place to drive in the entire United States.” He bared his teeth again in a scowl. “I’ll get M-Squad together, though, and we’ll—”
“No,” Ariadne said. “I want you to remain here with Bastian and Eve.” She let her eyes flick to me. “This seems like another good opportunity to test our new team in the field.”
“What do you think this is?” I asked. “An Omega safe house?”
“Based on anomalies in the property records, yeah,” J.J. replied. “It’s registered to a Peter and Sophia Larson, but the names and social security numbers in the property tax rolls don’t match any employment records, birth records, et cetera, that are legitimately alive anywhere. No employment history? No social security work or payment history for either?” The geek raised a hand as though he were offering an open palm. “Not likely to be a real person. No bank records, either, so who knows how they’re paying the property taxes and gas bill.”
“So I take my team, we reconnoiter the house, and if it seems suspicious, we break and enter?” I gave Ariadne the eye, waiting for her approval.
“Yes,” she replied. “But take Clary with you.”
I felt the enthusiasm for what I was about to do wither and die in a half a heartbeat. “Please, no. Can I have Bastian instead?”
“Bastian is M-Squad’s leader,” she said, as though patiently explaining why I was wrong. I looked at Parks and cocked my head to indicate him. “Parks has been your instructor, so you’re more likely to defer to him and his judgment rather than cleanly lead like I want you to.”
“There may be some virtue in drawing from superior experience,” Parks said to her with
“Because the air here in the dungeons is so much fresher than what we get on the fourth floor?” He looked at me with a querying eyebrow. “Ariadne asked me to tell you what we found.”
“Found from what?” I asked.
“Fries’ cell phone,” Ariadne replied, smug. “Reed bagged it during your raid. Go on, J.J.”
“Recent history was kind of a boon,” J.J. said, holding up the tablet so I could see. “The man’s not what you’d call real communicative, so it’s not like there was a ton to sift through in his thirty-day history.”
“I’ve heard that incubi and succubi can be a little unsociable,” I said without a trace of irony.
“That might be underselling it for him,” J.J. said. “Two numbers, that’s it. One’s a cell phone that I backtraced. Area code says it’s from Manhattan, but it was last used in downtown Minneapolis yesterday afternoon at about three-thirty p.m.” He held up the tablet and a city grid showed up on the screen. “It wasn’t logging the GPS, but just based on the cell tower data it looks like the user was pretty close to Fries’ apartment when the call was made. After that, it went dark, completely offline, no record that it’s been on the network since.”
“Whoever’s using it is either odd or cautious,” Parks suggested. “They might have seen your team bag Fries and figured you could track them down if they left the phone on for the networks to follow.”
“Or they might just be on planes or not wanting to be disturbed,” J.J. said with a shrug. “It’s not usual behavior for most users to go dark for that long, though, so I think we can assume that the phone is probably disposed of.”
I stared at the map on the tablet computer. “So that’s a dead end unless the phone goes active again. What about the other number?”
J.J. broke into a little smile. “That one is a landline for a house in Des Moines, Iowa.”
“Iowa,” Parks said as though it were some sort of curse. “I hate Iowa.”
“Why?” I asked, and caught a flash of the wolf on Parks’ face when he came around to answer.
“Because between it and the damned Dakotas, there ain’t a more boring place to drive in the entire United States.” He bared his teeth again in a scowl. “I’ll get M-Squad together, though, and we’ll—”
“No,” Ariadne said. “I want you to remain here with Bastian and Eve.” She let her eyes flick to me. “This seems like another good opportunity to test our new team in the field.”
“What do you think this is?” I asked. “An Omega safe house?”
“Based on anomalies in the property records, yeah,” J.J. replied. “It’s registered to a Peter and Sophia Larson, but the names and social security numbers in the property tax rolls don’t match any employment records, birth records, et cetera, that are legitimately alive anywhere. No employment history? No social security work or payment history for either?” The geek raised a hand as though he were offering an open palm. “Not likely to be a real person. No bank records, either, so who knows how they’re paying the property taxes and gas bill.”
“So I take my team, we reconnoiter the house, and if it seems suspicious, we break and enter?” I gave Ariadne the eye, waiting for her approval.
“Yes,” she replied. “But take Clary with you.”
I felt the enthusiasm for what I was about to do wither and die in a half a heartbeat. “Please, no. Can I have Bastian instead?”
“Bastian is M-Squad’s leader,” she said, as though patiently explaining why I was wrong. I looked at Parks and cocked my head to indicate him. “Parks has been your instructor, so you’re more likely to defer to him and his judgment rather than cleanly lead like I want you to.”
“There may be some virtue in drawing from superior experience,” Parks said to her with
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