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I
drew
a
deep
breath
and
closed
my
eyes
to
avoid
having
to
meet
her
gaze
.
"
Did
you
sort
out
that
hardware
for
me
?
"
"
Yeah
.
"
She
stepped
back
,
voice
returning
to
normal
volume
and
empty
of
tone
.
"
The
stungun
from
the
Fell
Street
tackle
room
,
no
one
’
ll
miss
it
.
The
rest
is
coming
out
of
NYPD
confiscated
weapon
stocks
.
I
’
m
flying
out
to
pick
it
up
tomorrow
personally
.
Material
transaction
,
no
records
.
I
called
in
a
couple
of
favours
.
"
"
Good
.
Thanks
.
"
"
Don
’
t
mention
it
,
"
Her
tone
was
savagely
ironic
.
"
Oh
,
by
the
way
,
they
had
a
hell
of
a
time
getting
hold
of
the
spider
venom
load
.
I
don
’
t
suppose
you
’
d
care
to
tell
me
what
that
’
s
all
about
,
would
you
?
"
"
It
’
s
a
personal
thing
.
"
Elliott
got
someone
on
the
screen
.
A
serious
-
looking
woman
in
a
late
fifties
African
sleeve
.
"
Hey
,
Reese
,
"
she
said
cheerfully
.
"
Got
a
customer
for
you
.
"
Despite
the
pessimistic
estimate
,
Irene
Elliott
finished
her
preliminary
scan
a
day
later
.
I
was
down
by
the
lake
,
recovering
from
Reese
’
s
simple
microsurgery
and
skimming
stones
with
a
girl
of
about
six
who
seemed
to
have
adopted
me
.
Ortega
was
still
in
New
York
,
the
chill
between
us
not
really
resolved
.
Elliott
emerged
from
the
encampment
and
yelled
out
the
news
of
her
successful
covert
scan
without
bothering
to
come
down
to
the
water
’
s
edge
.
I
winced
as
the
echoes
floated
out
across
the
water
.
The
open
atmosphere
of
the
little
settlement
took
some
getting
used
to
,
and
how
it
fitted
in
with
successful
data
piracy
I
still
couldn
’
t
see
.
I
handed
my
stone
to
the
girl
and
rubbed
reflexively
at
the
tiny
soreness
under
one
eye
where
Reese
had
gone
in
and
implanted
the
recording
system
.
