Midnight Empire Read Online Free Page A
Daniel, this phone has a Creech address for you, secure email. Expect a call this morning. Jake.
He took a shower and had to fumble with wet hands when the call came.
âDaniel. Jake.â
âHello, Jake.â
âSorry I havenât been to visit. Weâre busy with new pilots and thereâs only two of us in the office. Youâve settled in? Listen, your interview is booked for eleven oâclock tomorrow. Itâs taken some organising because itâs CIA. Donât worry about itâyouâre Australian so itâll be routine. Then weâll get you out here. Your boxes have arrived. Iâve got them in a locker. Youâre all set there?â
âAll set.â
âAlright. Good man.â
He ate that evening at a café inside Planet Hollywood, watching people play the slots. The casino floor was cavernous, a roof three levels high, a cinema and nightclubs on the second and third floors. Huge images of movie stars. Huge images of people playing craps. The bacon in his burger was inedible and the bread almost so. He ordered a Budweiser in part just to say the word.
He thought about finding something nice for Hannah that he could quickly send home. Heâd expected there wouldnât be anything very tasteful to buy in Las Vegas but after an hourâs search he was still surprised that he hadnât been able to find anything that wasnât gruesome. Finally, in a store called City Style, he discovered a summer dress that he thought would fit and was nice enough, and he bought it on credit before realising that, in the habit, heâd accidently used the companyâs card.
He had the store reverse the charge but already he could see the item being highlighted in yellow by one of LinkLockâs three accountants before being shown to the CFO. LinkLock was a serious place, and the idea of Daniel Carter, deep in the heart of the American war machine, buying a summer dress wasnât likely to go down well.
Annoyed by his thoughtlessness, he walked back towards the Nexus building at pace, weaving through the crowd on the Strip, the heat thick and the lights hard and an endless flow of tourists going both ways, discussing shows and restaurants, the opposite sex and hotels.
A human statue shouted Boo as Daniel went by, startling him, and he felt a wave of adrenaline like acid in his blood. He kept going, cutting through the crowd, and not far on he felt someone point him out, a group of men in his peripheral vision. He turned and was certain that all four were looking at him, locals perched on the street barricade, marking him as a target; a thin male tourist with a shopping bag that might contain consumer electronics.
Now he noticed that one man was on the phone, and it seemed possible that he was calling ahead, communicating with an associate or group of associates further down the boulevard: Soft touch headed your way .
So Daniel turned left, went in through the open doors of what happened to be the Casino Royale, a circus-themed slot joint fronting the street, and onto its gambling floor, past the craps and the roulette, going deep, intending to double back onto the street and find another way to the hotel.
Over his shoulder, he thought he saw the man on the phone starting to move. He turned down a row of slot machines to remove himself from view. Was he reading this right, or was it a case of nothing between the lines? Right then it didnât matter, only that he was getting away.
He came back to the street further up the boulevard, took the first cross street away from the throng, walked into the zone of car parks and air-conditioning towers and traffic. Ten minutes later, he came to the door of his building, passkey in hand, and only when the loftâs door clicked behind him did he realise that the dress, the shopping bag, was no longer in his hand.
The next morning, it was hard to avoid the conclusion that he needed to sharpen his mind. Heâd set
He took a shower and had to fumble with wet hands when the call came.
âDaniel. Jake.â
âHello, Jake.â
âSorry I havenât been to visit. Weâre busy with new pilots and thereâs only two of us in the office. Youâve settled in? Listen, your interview is booked for eleven oâclock tomorrow. Itâs taken some organising because itâs CIA. Donât worry about itâyouâre Australian so itâll be routine. Then weâll get you out here. Your boxes have arrived. Iâve got them in a locker. Youâre all set there?â
âAll set.â
âAlright. Good man.â
He ate that evening at a café inside Planet Hollywood, watching people play the slots. The casino floor was cavernous, a roof three levels high, a cinema and nightclubs on the second and third floors. Huge images of movie stars. Huge images of people playing craps. The bacon in his burger was inedible and the bread almost so. He ordered a Budweiser in part just to say the word.
He thought about finding something nice for Hannah that he could quickly send home. Heâd expected there wouldnât be anything very tasteful to buy in Las Vegas but after an hourâs search he was still surprised that he hadnât been able to find anything that wasnât gruesome. Finally, in a store called City Style, he discovered a summer dress that he thought would fit and was nice enough, and he bought it on credit before realising that, in the habit, heâd accidently used the companyâs card.
He had the store reverse the charge but already he could see the item being highlighted in yellow by one of LinkLockâs three accountants before being shown to the CFO. LinkLock was a serious place, and the idea of Daniel Carter, deep in the heart of the American war machine, buying a summer dress wasnât likely to go down well.
Annoyed by his thoughtlessness, he walked back towards the Nexus building at pace, weaving through the crowd on the Strip, the heat thick and the lights hard and an endless flow of tourists going both ways, discussing shows and restaurants, the opposite sex and hotels.
A human statue shouted Boo as Daniel went by, startling him, and he felt a wave of adrenaline like acid in his blood. He kept going, cutting through the crowd, and not far on he felt someone point him out, a group of men in his peripheral vision. He turned and was certain that all four were looking at him, locals perched on the street barricade, marking him as a target; a thin male tourist with a shopping bag that might contain consumer electronics.
Now he noticed that one man was on the phone, and it seemed possible that he was calling ahead, communicating with an associate or group of associates further down the boulevard: Soft touch headed your way .
So Daniel turned left, went in through the open doors of what happened to be the Casino Royale, a circus-themed slot joint fronting the street, and onto its gambling floor, past the craps and the roulette, going deep, intending to double back onto the street and find another way to the hotel.
Over his shoulder, he thought he saw the man on the phone starting to move. He turned down a row of slot machines to remove himself from view. Was he reading this right, or was it a case of nothing between the lines? Right then it didnât matter, only that he was getting away.
He came back to the street further up the boulevard, took the first cross street away from the throng, walked into the zone of car parks and air-conditioning towers and traffic. Ten minutes later, he came to the door of his building, passkey in hand, and only when the loftâs door clicked behind him did he realise that the dress, the shopping bag, was no longer in his hand.
The next morning, it was hard to avoid the conclusion that he needed to sharpen his mind. Heâd set
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