A Ride in the Country
Mar. 3rd, 2005 09:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
angie_palace[Takes place in response to this]
Emmie Freiria pedalled her bicycle down the Great Western Road, just fast enough to keep the grocer's delivery van in sight. The grade was shallow and she was in good shape; she'd had no problem keeping up with the van for the eight kilometers or so since they'd left the warehouse in Hettlesfield.
She preferred to keep her investigations quiet and had found many years ago that a good all-terrain bike could often slip under the radar where a car would be instantly targeted. The gearing system let her get up to over a hundred KPH if she stood up on the pedals and pushed hard, and she could go places even a motorcycle couldn't. And it was silent. That was important in her line of work.
She wondered where the damn van was going. She'd never heard of any houses out here -- it was all hills and woods, with a few lakes. Decent for hiking or camping, but there were better places for that not too far away, with more spectacular scenery and some amenities which simply didn't exist out here. Whoever her client was after, they were hiding pretty well.
Most of her work was done in front of a com set, in full virtual, sliding past walls and dancing through traps to get at the data her clients contracted her to find. This one, though, had run up into that one insurmountable barrier no hacker could penetrate -- information which simply wasn't connected to any network. Her client was looking for an address and whoever lived there had been very careful to go for the highest security level in all their business dealings, and to deal only with companies with a good reputation for maintaining that highest level of security. Working off the net was a pain in the ass for vendors and service companies and it always cost extra; her client's target was willing to pay to get it.
There -- the van, about half a kilometer ahead of her, had turned left. Emmie pedalled harder, then slowed down once more when she saw that the van had stopped. There was a dirt road there, with a white gate across it, and some kind of cottage. She turned her head and stared while going by; the road was flat and there were no obstacles and nothing else to see, and pretending she hadn't noticed the van would've been more suspicious than a healthy curiosity.
A tall, sturdily-built man came out of the cottage to talk to the driver of the van. Emmie pegged him for a security guard despite his lack of uniform. He glanced up as she passed by, the movement of her bike obviously catching his eye. She smiled and waved without slowing down. He gave her a wave in return before giving his attention back to the van.
Emmie reached down to the GPS unit on one handlebar and poked the mappoint button. The unit beeped, recording this spot. She had no idea what was out here, but all her client was paying for was a location. She'd traced the account number he'd sent her to purchases and the purchases to the van and the van to this property. What he did with the info was no business of hers so long as her rather steep fee made its way into her account.
Emmie Freiria pedalled her bicycle down the Great Western Road, just fast enough to keep the grocer's delivery van in sight. The grade was shallow and she was in good shape; she'd had no problem keeping up with the van for the eight kilometers or so since they'd left the warehouse in Hettlesfield.
She preferred to keep her investigations quiet and had found many years ago that a good all-terrain bike could often slip under the radar where a car would be instantly targeted. The gearing system let her get up to over a hundred KPH if she stood up on the pedals and pushed hard, and she could go places even a motorcycle couldn't. And it was silent. That was important in her line of work.
She wondered where the damn van was going. She'd never heard of any houses out here -- it was all hills and woods, with a few lakes. Decent for hiking or camping, but there were better places for that not too far away, with more spectacular scenery and some amenities which simply didn't exist out here. Whoever her client was after, they were hiding pretty well.
Most of her work was done in front of a com set, in full virtual, sliding past walls and dancing through traps to get at the data her clients contracted her to find. This one, though, had run up into that one insurmountable barrier no hacker could penetrate -- information which simply wasn't connected to any network. Her client was looking for an address and whoever lived there had been very careful to go for the highest security level in all their business dealings, and to deal only with companies with a good reputation for maintaining that highest level of security. Working off the net was a pain in the ass for vendors and service companies and it always cost extra; her client's target was willing to pay to get it.
There -- the van, about half a kilometer ahead of her, had turned left. Emmie pedalled harder, then slowed down once more when she saw that the van had stopped. There was a dirt road there, with a white gate across it, and some kind of cottage. She turned her head and stared while going by; the road was flat and there were no obstacles and nothing else to see, and pretending she hadn't noticed the van would've been more suspicious than a healthy curiosity.
A tall, sturdily-built man came out of the cottage to talk to the driver of the van. Emmie pegged him for a security guard despite his lack of uniform. He glanced up as she passed by, the movement of her bike obviously catching his eye. She smiled and waved without slowing down. He gave her a wave in return before giving his attention back to the van.
Emmie reached down to the GPS unit on one handlebar and poked the mappoint button. The unit beeped, recording this spot. She had no idea what was out here, but all her client was paying for was a location. She'd traced the account number he'd sent her to purchases and the purchases to the van and the van to this property. What he did with the info was no business of hers so long as her rather steep fee made its way into her account.
