XVI
On the other side of town, Dylan drove from the impound lot back to the docks. Zeek waited outside the entrance to his hideout.
"What happened at the house?" He raised an eyebrow. Dylan's jacket and pants were still covered in blood. "And to you?"
Dylan shrugged. "The house exploded when I entered the kitchen."
Zeek chuckled. "We live a charmed life." He rotated his chair around and went into the hideout. "So, did you have something to do with the shootout at the hospital?"
"Yeah." Dylan followed Zeek into the shipping containers.
"Were they after you?" Zeek threw Dylan a clean shirt and pants.
Dylan removed his blood-stained clothing. "No." He looked at the clothes. "These the standard?"
Zeek nodded. All clothing Zeek produced, he wove material resistant to cutting and blunt force. It wouldn't hold against bullets but could take a few shots from close-range weapons. "Why did you get involved?"
Dylan put on the new shirt and pants. "They attacked a hospital, Zeek. One held a gun up to a girl's head. I made the right call."
"You want to find them?"
"Yes, but I'm going to need more ammo."
"I'm all out. I don't have any information either. Dylan, are you sure you want to be doing this? I don't even have any real armor for you."
Dylan sat down on a metal bench away from Zeek. "No, but there is this woman."
"Oh god." Zeek rolled over toward Dylan. "Please tell me you didn't adopt another stray."
Dylan shook his head. "Nothing like that. She is a prosecutor. Liza was a witness against someone named Madam Vanco. Are you able to look Vanco up?"
Zeek turned around and went to his computer. "You're lucky I didn't send back the computer." Zeek hit three keys on his keyboard. The screens lit up, and within moments Zeek pulled hundreds of files up.
Dylan's rubbed his chin. "Wow, and this is only articles and court appearances."
Zeek opened a few. "That prosecutor isn't named Haruna Wu?"
"Yeah."
"She has brought almost thirty different indictments against Henrietta Vanco in the last three years."
"Explains the hit."
"You got a name for the Russians?"
"Vasiliev. Albert, I think his first name was," Dylan said.
Zeek typed the name Vasiliev into a directory. A list of names came up. Zeek scrolled for a while, but it didn't seem to end. "This is going to take time to go through."
"How long?"
"I can see if a Vasiliev has been taken to court. Finding his address will still take a few hours."
"Damn," Dylan said, "Haruna might not have a few hours. They could hit her again."
"They might. I'll work as fast as I can."
A knock reverberated through the hideout. Zeek pressed a button on the computer, and the text on the monitors faded. The feed from a camera at the entrance was displayed. Miles stood out there, no longer dressed as a doctor but in a white collared shirt, black jacket, pants, and tie.
"Come on, Zeek. I know you're in there." Miles knocked again.
Zeek turned toward Dylan, a scowl plastered on his face. "How long has he been here?"
"Not sure, few days maybe. He's on our side."
"You know how much I hate spooks. You can't trust them. Now you're bringing one to my hideout."
"I don't know how he found this place. Maybe he knows something."
"Fine, let him in," Zeek growled.
Dylan stepped out of the main area and pressed the button to unlock the front. Miles walked into the container. "Took long enough. I guess the old man is still pissed."
Dylan shrugged. "The man hates spies."
Miles walked in and glanced at the computer screens. "What are you trying to find?"
Dylan followed Miles. "We are working to find information on the Vasiliev family."
"You able to help?" Zeek continued to type.
"Nope," Miles said. "They are a minor crime family but haven't found anything else."
"They weren't a minor crime family an hour ago."
"You should hear the rumors about the other families. There is an Information Broker in the city. He should know how to find the Vasiliev family." Miles turned toward Dylan. "His name is Samuel Thane. He should be at a bar between Tenth and Washington."
"If that's all you have, you can leave," Zeek said.
Miles shook his head and walked towards the exit.
Zeek swung his head toward Miles. "Hold on a second. How did you find this place?"
Miles smiled. He gestured to Dylan. "Look in your inside pocket." Miles exited the storage container.
The pocket held a bronze Feng Shui coin. Miles used them to track targets. Dylan smiled and showed Zeek the coin.
"I hate spies."
"He means well." Dylan slipped the coin back into his coat.
"Jury is still out. Find this Samuel guy. Ask him about the Vasiliev family. I'll keep researching the Vanco family and this prosecutor of yours."
