Codename: Night Witch by Cary Caffrey Page B

head-on. At the last moment, the oncoming transport veered onto the shoulder to make way. The roar of the heavy cargo-carriers whipping by thundered and shook the cab—though not so loud that she didn't hear Jaffer waking to chuckle beside her.
    "Something funny about my driving?"
    Jaffer held up his hands in surrender. "No! Not at all. Didn't say a word. You are the master of the helm."
    By now, they were nearing their destination. It wasn't marked on any of her maps, but Sigrid saw it rising from the horizon ahead. It was the Crossroads, home of the Consortium.
    The way Jaffer had gone on about the place, Sigrid half-expected some gleaming city of gold and steel, but it was hardly a city at all. Rather than a sprawling metropolis of tens of millions, it looked more like a way station. Though it wasn't without its rustic charm either. Protected by its tall perimeter walls and surrounded on all sides by the open clear-cut plains, it reminded Sigrid of an old Western trading post, the kind she'd read so often about in her histories. It wasn't hard to imagine the Crossroads full of cattle barons and gamblers, all of them arriving here in search of fortunes and glory.
    All of the inbound traffic was funneled in through a single main road, and Sigrid slowed to join the queue of inbound trains. Traffic ground to a halt here. Security was tight and armed soldiers were everywhere.
    Sigrid spied the uniforms and colors of several respected mercenary clans. Aldus. McClaren. The Black Watch Rangers. She counted more than four dozen soldiers manning the gates alone. There was even a squad from the Dalair Military Group—the very same organization who'd tried to capture her from the Agatsuma so many years ago. Sigrid bristled as they walked past not four meters from her window.
    "What's with all the heat?" she asked—though she feared she already knew the answer.
    Jaffer leaned forward and his eyes narrowed as he strained for a closer look. "Don't know. I've never known the Consortium to hire mercs before. Something big must be going on."
    Big indeed . "They're looking for me."
    "Bah. You're paranoid. The Consortium's got more on its plate than looking for one escaped worker. I like you, kid, but you're not worth the trouble."
    Clusters of sniffer-drones swarmed the columns of waiting trains. Their scanning beams flashed over the cargo carriers and crews. Of course, they could be looking for anything: contraband, explosives, narcotics. But she doubted it. She wasn't just running from the Independents. She was a wanted criminal—a criminal with a bounty on her head of over one-point-five billion!
    "This was a bad idea," Sigrid said. She sat lower, and her hand drifted to the butt of the recoilless harnessed to her hip. "I shouldn't have come here."
    "Be cool. We'll get through this. I promise."
    One of the drones buzzed Jaffer's rig. It paused, hovering just outside her window. Scanning beams flashed over her face. Sigrid knew the routine. Her heart rate and blood pressure would be scanned. Any suspicious behavior, nervousness or agitation would be logged and reported. Sigrid remained perfectly still, doing her best to look bored. She filled her head with thoughts of not-very-exciting things like soup and knitted socks as she stared back at the drone passively.
    While the drone was busy scanning her face and features, her PCM was busy feeding back a series of false signals via her communications module. As far as the sniffer-drone and its operator were concerned, she wasn't Sigrid Novak, rogue operative, she was Camila Valentina Rodriguez! Licensed operator of a commercial transport vehicle.
    She wasn't worried about the drones. The drones she could fool. But all it would take was for some overeager junior officer to look up and recognize her to raise the alarm. She wasn't out of this yet.
    Nothing to see here. Move along.
    As if reading her mind, the drone chirped and blinked green. Whirring and sputtering, it continued on to the next