Free Freedom Incorporated by Peter Tylee Page B

access code for
the WEF apprehension database and scanned for Adam Oaten. He
impatiently watched the flashing cursor and sipped some more of his
coffee, unblinking. After a grinding sound from his antiquated hard
disk, the list of possible matches appeared for his inspection.
There were only two and he checked both. One was for an Adam Oaten
somewhere in Florida but the other was for Sydney, Australia.
Tingling with adrenaline, Simon’s set his coffee a safe distance
from his trembling hands. But… not
Dan. He checked the DNA profile listed on
Adam Oaten’s WEF database record and compared it to the DNA taken
at the autopsy. It was the same. He was both relieved and terrified
to note the apprehension status – target terminated. The WEF had
only issued an apprehension warrant. Adam Oaten’s death was only permissible if he
resisted.
    Okay, so
someone from UniForce tried to nab the guy and he put up a
fight. He shrugged. It’s not the first time. The
disturbing element was the possibility, no matter how slim, that
Dan was somehow involved. It was death by nanotoxin after all.
Simon had heard that Dan had crossed over to the private sector,
but he couldn’t believe Dan was wantonly cruel.
    Could he?
    *

    Wednesday, September 15,
2066
    17:13 Andamooka, South
Australia

    It had taken the better
part of a day, but Dan felt stable again. The Zyclone was pounding
on his neurotransmitters and he felt less like lying in bed until
the end of time. Now he was back to business.
    His eyes darted over the
list of names.
    Damn
you. He wondered who in UniForce was selling
his list s twice . That Roach
woman? He frowned. Someone else making a buck on the side?
    This list was fresh; only
two names had faded on his screen. The Raven had apprehended
both.
    He examined
every file, trying to gauge whom the Raven was least likely to
track. There were several large bounties on the list and it seemed
logical the Raven would go for them. The Raven’s return rate was
astonishing, so the difficulty of finding the targets probably
wouldn’t deter him. Dan finally settled on a medium-return
26-year-old female. Hmm… I’m ten years
older than that. It made Dan feel old and
he became acutely aware
of the pain in his joints. He hadn’t exactly
been looking after himself recently. When his wife was still alive
he used to promise every morning that he’d be careful and that he’d
look after himself. The promise usually preceded a warm kiss and
Katherine would wrap her arms around him, pull him close, and
whisper, “You’d better be careful or you’ll have me to answer
to!”
    The target was
a five foot six brunette. Thin. Dan peered closer at his screen
until he could almost see the individual pixels. Perhaps willowy is the word . She looked scared in the photograph; he wondered when it was
taken. He memorized the contours of her face, her thin arching
eyebrows and her straight nose. He burned the image into his mind,
murmuring her physical description repeatedly.
    The WEF had
issued a warrant for her apprehension – and her death if she
resisted. It perplexed Dan to think about killing her without first
knowing why, without knowing what she did wrong. He was glad bounty
hunting had never forced him into that position. Most people came
quietly, if not willingly, when facing the .45-inch barrel of his
1911. He couldn’t imagine himself pulling the trigger on a willowy
girl. Things would have to go horribly wrong before he’d even consider
it.
    Dan kept
reading. She was untagged. He grunted. Weren’t they all? Some of the more
cunning criminals had had their
microchips surgically removed, which made
them difficult to track. Others had escaped the microchipping
squads entirely and so didn’t even have a scar on their
back . But t hey were
rare. Dan had no idea how they survived in the modern world where
people needed a microchip to do anything. How do they
pay for groceries? The micro-implant stored
the b ank details
that retailers needed to