Chapter 39 - The Hunt
Mark Berry rounded the corner from the transit station, exhaustion weighing on his shoulders after another long shift at Eagle Logistics. The promise Peter Vang had sworn on his emblem felt both real and fragile—a lifeline that could snap. He was so lost in thought about his VR pod certification that he almost missed the familiar figure leaning against the building entrance.
"Mark! Hey, there you are!"
Jamie Cash pushed off from the wall with a broad smile, arms spread in greeting. He looked genuinely relieved, almost excited, as if spotting Mark had made his entire day.
"Jamie?" Mark stopped short, his hand instinctively moving to his pocket where his phone rested. "What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you, actually." Jamie approached with that casual confidence Mark remembered from their Wall Pod days, but something felt different. More intense. "Been hoping to run into you. How've you been, man? It's been too long."
Mark studied Jamie's face, noting the slight tightness around his eyes despite the friendly smile. "I've been... managing. New job keeps me busy." He gestured towards the logistics building behind him. "What about you? How are you handling everything after the shop got shut down?"
"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." Jamie clapped him on the shoulder, the gesture warm but calculated. "Why don't we grab a drink? Catch up properly. I'm buying."
The offer triggered immediate suspicion in Mark's mind. Jamie had been scraping by when Wall Pod closed, barely making rent on that cramped storage room he'd called an office. "You're buying? Things must have improved since I last saw you."
Jamie's grin widened. "Actually, yeah. Remember how the Bear House shut us down over licensing violations? Turns out they breached their own contractual obligations in the process. Settlement came through just last week. Nice chunk of change for the inconvenience."
Mark raised an eyebrow. Having worked around the Republic's bureaucracy for months, he knew settlements didn't move that quickly, especially with major Houses involved. "That was fast. Those things usually take months to resolve."
"I spoke to them directly," Jamie said smoothly. "Told them I'd keep it quiet, handle everything out of the public eye. Bad PR for the Bear House if it got into the news, you know? They appreciated the discretion and fast-tracked the payment."
"Right." Mark nodded slowly, not believing a word of it. "Well, congratulations on the settlement."
"Thanks, man. That's why I can afford to treat an old friend to drinks." Jamie's expression turned earnest. "Look, I'm not just here to celebrate. I'm worried about people. About guys like us—Westerners trying to make it in the Republic."
Mark felt the conversation turning, could sense Jamie manoeuvring towards something. "Worried about what?"
"You haven't heard the rumours? Things are getting tense with foreign relations. Word is the Houses are considering soft immigration controls—making it harder for foreigners to travel in and out. Some kind of diplomatic disagreement brewing."
The mention of immigration controls sent a chill through Mark. If true, it could complicate his own status, maybe even affect Peter Vang's ability to resolve his certification case. "I hadn't heard anything specific."
"That's the thing—they're keeping it quiet for now. But I've got contacts, people who hear things before they hit official channels." Jamie stepped closer, lowering his voice. "That's why I'm reaching out to friends, making sure everyone's prepared. We need to look out for each other."
"Sure, that makes sense." Mark shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of Jamie's attention. "But I'm not planning on travelling anytime soon."
"What about Chris?" Jamie asked, the question coming out casual but carrying an undertone of urgency. "You two were pretty tight back at the shop. Have you seen him lately?"
Mark's pulse quickened. This was what Jamie was really after. "Chris? No, not for a while. Last time I saw him was..." He paused, pretending to think whilst calculating how much to reveal. "Few weeks ago, actually. We met up for drinks, got into that bar fight with some locals. Haven't talked since."
Jamie studied his face intently. "Bar fight, huh? That sounds like Chris. Always had a temper when people pushed him." His laugh came out sharp, wrong. "How did he seem? Was he doing okay?"
"He seemed fine. Same old Chris." Mark shrugged, maintaining eye contact despite wanting to look away. "Why the interest? You thinking about hiring him back if you reopen?"
"Something like that." Jamie's smile became more strained. "Truth is, I'm worried about him. Guy like Chris, Commonwealth-born, working lower-level jobs—he could be in a vulnerable position if things get tense politically. Might be smart for him to head home to the Southern Commonwealth until things settle down."
Mark nodded thoughtfully, recognising the manipulation but playing along. "That makes sense. If I see him, I'll mention it. You still have the same contact info?"
"Yeah, same number. Definitely give me a call if you run into him." Jamie's grip on Mark's shoulder tightened slightly. "I mean it, Mark. Don't try to handle this stuff alone. Westerners need to stick together, especially now."
The emphasis on 'Westerners' felt calculated, designed to trigger solidarity. Mark forced another nod. "Absolutely. We look out for each other."
"Good." Jamie stepped back, his friendly smile returning but not quite reaching his eyes. "So what do you say about that drink? I promise I won't keep you out too late on a work night."
Mark glanced at his watch, noting the late hour. "Actually, I've got an early shift tomorrow. Physical work, you know? Need to get some sleep."
"Come on, don't be like that." Jamie's tone carried a hint of disappointment that felt performed. "It's been months since we've talked properly. One drink, then I'll let you get your beauty sleep."
"I appreciate the offer, really. But I'm beat." Mark took a step towards his building entrance. "Rain check? I'll definitely call you when I have more time."
Jamie's expression flickered—just for an instant—with something harder than disappointment. Then the friendly mask slipped back into place. "Sure, of course. Don't be a stranger, okay? And remember what I said about Chris. If you see him, let me know. It's important."
"Will do." Mark gave a final wave and headed towards his building, feeling Jamie's eyes on his back until he'd cleared the entrance and moved out of sight.
Once inside, Mark leaned against the wall and let out a long breath. The conversation had been a minefield, each question loaded with hidden meaning. Jamie's story about the settlement was obviously false, which meant he had other sources of income—or other motivations for seeking Chris.
The immigration control warning could be genuine, or it could be a manipulation tactic designed to make Mark more cooperative. Either way, Jamie's desperation to locate Chris suggested something more serious than concern for a former employee's welfare.
Mark pulled out his phone, staring at the screen. He had Jamie's number, Peter Vang's contact information, and somewhere in the Republic, Chris was probably unaware that people were actively hunting for him.
The smart move would be to warn Chris. But that would require revealing that he knew Chris's location, which would complicate his own situation with Peter Vang. The Sky enforcer had been clear about maintaining distance from problematic associations.
Several blocks away, Jamie Cash sat in his car, his friendly demeanour evaporating like steam. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel as he replayed the conversation, analysing every hesitation, every micro-expression.
Mark was lying. The timeline was wrong—Jamie's surveillance data from the phone showed Chris had been active in the city much more recently than "a few weeks ago." The phone had gone dark when Chris gave it to those protest rejects, but the location data before that contradicted Mark's story.
More concerning was Mark's defensive posture throughout the conversation. Someone genuinely out of touch with Chris would have shown more curiosity about why Jamie was asking. Instead, Mark had seemed prepared for the questions, ready with plausible but false answers.
Jamie pulled up his secure contacts, scrolling to a number he'd hoped not to use. The voice that answered was crisp, professional.
"Status report?"
"Subject BERRY is assessed as a Tier-2 associate and possible access agent to primary target XIONG. Subject is actively concealing contact and demonstrates counter-surveillance awareness. Recommend initiation of full technical and physical monitoring."
"Understood. Assets will be deployed within the hour, and deeper analysis will be initiated on his Commonwealth connections."
The line went dead. Jamie sat in the gathering darkness, watching Mark's building. If his suspicions were correct, then this wasn't just about finding a former employee who'd gotten mixed up in Republic politics. This was about uncovering a potential intelligence operation using Chris as either an asset or cover.
The phone surveillance had been an elegant solution until Chris gave the device away. Now Jamie was reduced to human intelligence gathering, following social connections and hoping to find leads before his own situation became untenable.
In his pocket, his secure phone buzzed with a message: "Surveillance team in position. Full monitoring authorised."
Jamie smiled grimly and started his engine. Mark Berry had just become a problem that required comprehensive attention. And if Mark was protecting Chris, then following him would eventually lead to the target.
The hunt was far from over. It was just getting more complicated.
As Jamie drove away, he didn't notice the figure watching from a third-floor window of Mark's building. Mark stood in the darkness, having observed Jamie's extended presence in the parked car.
Jamie wasn't just asking casual questions—he was conducting an operation. And now Mark had to decide whether his loyalty to an old friend was worth risking the future Peter Vang had promised him.
The weight of that choice pressed down on him as he watched Jamie's taillights disappear into the Republic's neon-lit streets.