Ure Infectus (Imperium Cicernus Book 4) Read Online Free Page B

person within six degrees of separation from her. It was a resource-intensive and technically difficult thing to do without access to a whole team of operatives, but Wladimir ‘AJ’ Benton had never failed to deliver in the past so Jericho knew it would be money well-spent.
    Jericho called up the financial account containing the last of the operation’s budget and arranged to have it attached to the significantly larger sum of money he had already earmarked for the operator’s assistance to that point in the Cantwell Contract. After verifying the amounts and the destination account, he executed the transaction. When that was completed he sighed as he deactivated the handheld link.
    “I hate these things,” he grumbled as he removed the battery and found a small wad of soft, rubbery material inside the link’s slender housing. He pressed his finger against the wad of chewing gum-like material until an acrid smell wafted up into his nostrils. He replaced the battery into the device, reassembled the two halves of the link, and tossed it out the window of the vehicle before settling back into his seat for a few moments of quiet contemplation.
    It seemed that the universe had just presented him with a unique opportunity…and he would likely need to move quickly in order to prevent that opportunity from being eliminated.

     

Chapter
IV: The Glass Ceiling
    Several hours after finishing with what turned out to be an
utterly routine, maddeningly frustrating examination of her recent caseload,
Investigator Masozi sat down at her desk and activated her access terminal. She
knew that with so much elapsed time there was no point in returning to the
Mayor’s office to collect evidence. Anything of interest had either already
been catalogued, or—in what was a more than slightly disturbing possibility she
would have never considered possible prior to that night—removed from the scene
in some unthinkable attempt at a cover-up.
    Masozi flipped through the programs on her terminal and came
to the local news feeds. She stopped at one when she recognized the government
building housing the Mayor’s offices, where a short, entirely-too-pale-skinned
man was reporting with the caption ‘Mayor, Father of Three, Murdered’ beneath
him. After attuning her earpiece to the audio feed, she listened intently to
the reporter.
    “Precisely three hours and twenty six minutes ago,” the
effeminate-looking man said in a shrill, accented voice as he fought
desperately to speak through only one side of his mouth, “Mayor Thomas Cantwell
was brutally murdered within his own office by an as-yet unidentified gunman.
Details are still coming in, but authorities have ruled out nothing at this
point. Chief Investigator Adewali Afolabi spoke with me just moments ago.”
    The feed switched to a shot of Chief Afolabi standing
outside the elevator, and the reporter asked, “Chief Investigator, there have
been suggestions that this could have been an inside job; that perhaps there
were elements within the administration itself with whom Mayor Cantwell had
made unseen enemies. Can you give us an official comment at this time?”
    Afolabi drew himself up slightly and Masozi felt her stomach
churn at seeing the man giving what was, by all rights, her interview.
“It’s still very early in the process, but we have received no indications to
this point that what you describe may be the case,” the Chief Investigator
replied promptly and professionally.
    “We are nearing the end of this election campaign,” the
reporter continued, switching gears easily, “and Mayor Cantwell looked to be a
virtual lock for re-election in two weeks’ time. Does the New Lincoln
Investigative Unit allow for the possibility that this brutal, cold-blooded act
might have been authored by the Mayor’s chief opponent and Mayoral candidate in
her own right, District Attorney Jennifer Zellweger?”
    There was the barest hint of a pause, during which the
Chief’s expression