Read Online Torch Song: A Kickass Heroine, A Post-Apocalyptic World: Book One Of The Blackjack Trilogy by Shelley Singer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Shelley Singer
Tags: thriller, Suspense, Science-Fiction, Mystery, post apocalyptic, End of the world, casino, near future, spy fiction, new world, scifi thriller, Tahoe
Ads: Link
doing it, and that irritated me. I wasn’t in Tahoe for that kind of fun, certainly not with someone I was spying on.
The bloodstained glass-sequined working clothes I’d been wearing during the raid were soaking in the bathroom sink. The blood was coming out but the bits of broken glass were hanging on. I might just have to buy new black pants.
I’d managed to make it to my car the night before and get some of my things. I’d hesitated about my sys. A new-from-Redwood coin-sized personal sys would be harder to explain away than a new weapon, if someone decided to check out my room. They were hard to get, wildly expensive, and nobody owned one who wasn’t either rich enough to buy it as a toy or doing something that required secrecy and flash-distance communication. In the end I stuck it in a money-pocket flap I’d sewn into a pair of pants, and hauled those pants and maybe a third of my clothes, along with personal odds and ends, to the elevator. Which, it turned out, didn’t work. So, at least an hour after the last of my adrenaline had leaked away, I’d had to drag my sacks of stuff up the stairs to the third floor.
I’d taken the time to find my snoop-sniffer before I fell asleep and run a scan on the room. No bugs that I could find. But I still wouldn’t trust the room-sys.
My meeting with Scorsi wasn’t until three that afternoon. I had enough time to sit through the photo session, change clothes, and do a little scouting around town. Research. Background. Gossip with strangers. Catch the local threads and tie them together. Read some back issues of the local newspaper. Timmy had told me there was one. It even had a real office. There was a website, he said, but it was down most of the time. I tried to access it on my sys. Sure enough. Nothing.
I took a long shower and laid out three outfits. A floor-length dark blue dress with long tight sleeves and a low-cut neckline, a white one that came to mid-calf and had loose, gauzy sleeves and real sequins on the bodice, and flowing pants and blouse made of forest green silk that had actually come to San Francisco on a boat from China. I didn’t much like the white one and wasn’t in the mood for the blue, so I chose the green. It set off my hair.
By the time I’d dressed and put on just enough makeup to create an effect for the picture, I had ten minutes to meet Monte.
* * *
Even if there had been time for breakfast, I couldn’t have gotten it at the casino. The restaurant was closed and a sign on the door read “Cook Wanted.” The casino, a little the worse for wear but cleaned up and with spaces waiting for new or repaired machines and tables, had already drawn a couple dozen gamblers. My green silk attracted a lot of curious stares.
I was on my way to the cashier’s cage when I spotted Bernard, the flabby change guy who’d passed me the note. Maybe he’d know a good lunch place.
“You working a double shift or something?” I asked. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Not a sound leaked out.
He looked over his shoulder, twitchy with nerves at being seen with me. He couldn’t have looked more guilty. Made me want to twist the knife by thanking him again for delivering the message, but I couldn’t chance anyone overhearing.
“Some of our people never came back. I have to fill in.” Eyes shifting all over the place.
I wasn’t enjoying the conversation any more than he was, and had decided by then that he was the kind of short-lived spy who was bound to blow his cover, so I got to the point. Food. Bernard didn’t think for even a second before he directed me, loudly, to “The Blue Chip Diner, the second best eats in town.”
“Thanks, see you, then,” I said, escaping.
Monte was waiting for me. His gray eyebrows shot up at the sight of me in my torch suit. He gave me a friendly smile, smoothed back his sparse hair, and taking my arm in his thin hand, led me inside the cage.
He actually seemed to know what he was doing. He had me
The bloodstained glass-sequined working clothes I’d been wearing during the raid were soaking in the bathroom sink. The blood was coming out but the bits of broken glass were hanging on. I might just have to buy new black pants.
I’d managed to make it to my car the night before and get some of my things. I’d hesitated about my sys. A new-from-Redwood coin-sized personal sys would be harder to explain away than a new weapon, if someone decided to check out my room. They were hard to get, wildly expensive, and nobody owned one who wasn’t either rich enough to buy it as a toy or doing something that required secrecy and flash-distance communication. In the end I stuck it in a money-pocket flap I’d sewn into a pair of pants, and hauled those pants and maybe a third of my clothes, along with personal odds and ends, to the elevator. Which, it turned out, didn’t work. So, at least an hour after the last of my adrenaline had leaked away, I’d had to drag my sacks of stuff up the stairs to the third floor.
I’d taken the time to find my snoop-sniffer before I fell asleep and run a scan on the room. No bugs that I could find. But I still wouldn’t trust the room-sys.
My meeting with Scorsi wasn’t until three that afternoon. I had enough time to sit through the photo session, change clothes, and do a little scouting around town. Research. Background. Gossip with strangers. Catch the local threads and tie them together. Read some back issues of the local newspaper. Timmy had told me there was one. It even had a real office. There was a website, he said, but it was down most of the time. I tried to access it on my sys. Sure enough. Nothing.
I took a long shower and laid out three outfits. A floor-length dark blue dress with long tight sleeves and a low-cut neckline, a white one that came to mid-calf and had loose, gauzy sleeves and real sequins on the bodice, and flowing pants and blouse made of forest green silk that had actually come to San Francisco on a boat from China. I didn’t much like the white one and wasn’t in the mood for the blue, so I chose the green. It set off my hair.
By the time I’d dressed and put on just enough makeup to create an effect for the picture, I had ten minutes to meet Monte.
* * *
Even if there had been time for breakfast, I couldn’t have gotten it at the casino. The restaurant was closed and a sign on the door read “Cook Wanted.” The casino, a little the worse for wear but cleaned up and with spaces waiting for new or repaired machines and tables, had already drawn a couple dozen gamblers. My green silk attracted a lot of curious stares.
I was on my way to the cashier’s cage when I spotted Bernard, the flabby change guy who’d passed me the note. Maybe he’d know a good lunch place.
“You working a double shift or something?” I asked. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Not a sound leaked out.
He looked over his shoulder, twitchy with nerves at being seen with me. He couldn’t have looked more guilty. Made me want to twist the knife by thanking him again for delivering the message, but I couldn’t chance anyone overhearing.
“Some of our people never came back. I have to fill in.” Eyes shifting all over the place.
I wasn’t enjoying the conversation any more than he was, and had decided by then that he was the kind of short-lived spy who was bound to blow his cover, so I got to the point. Food. Bernard didn’t think for even a second before he directed me, loudly, to “The Blue Chip Diner, the second best eats in town.”
“Thanks, see you, then,” I said, escaping.
Monte was waiting for me. His gray eyebrows shot up at the sight of me in my torch suit. He gave me a friendly smile, smoothed back his sparse hair, and taking my arm in his thin hand, led me inside the cage.
He actually seemed to know what he was doing. He had me
Similar Books
