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“You’ll see when we get to Morgan’s house.”
“Who’s Morgan?”
“A friend of mine. You’ll like him. Maybe. You like computers?”
“Not got much of an opinion on them.”
“Just don’t say that in front of him. He’ll throw us both out on the street.”
* * *
The front door swings open. “Who dat?” Sophie asks, squirming in my arms.
“Hi,” the middle-aged black man says, leaning down to talk directly to her. “You must be Sophie. Aren’t you cute as a button?”
Jack ushers us into the house. “Let’s do this inside.”
He shuts the door behind us while Morgan takes Sophie by the hand, leading her through to a large lounge filled with games consoles in cabinets. “Ooh,” she says, reaching out for a doll’s house set up on the floor by the TV. “Coo.”
“Got it out of the attic when I heard you were coming,” Morgan says, sitting on the armchair near Sophie. “Belonged to my daughter.”
“She doesn’t need it anymore?”
“She left with her mom.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. It was all long time ago. Funny, though, couldn’t bear to get rid of her stuff. Guess I thought they might come back to me one day.” He turns to look at Jack. “I got it done. Capos are all waiting for orders from the Don. Got the schedules arranged, the whole shebang.”
“You managed the mesh?”
“Military grade. All I need is the lady’s print.”
“Good.” Jack turns to me. “We have a plan for dealing with all this, but you’re going to have to trust me. Can you trust me?”
“I came here with you, didn’t I?”
“Bring it in, Morgan.”
He gets up and walks out, leaving Jack to turn to face me. “It’s got to be this way,” he says. “We’ve no choice.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to be happy with it.”
“That’s true.”
Morgan reappears with a metal cylinder about eight inches long. “Slip your finger in there,” he says to me.
“Why, what does it do?”
“Scans your print so I can transfer it to a polymer based mesh that sits on a prosthetic replacement with nanolevel warm circuits firing the whole time.”
“He talks like that a lot,” Jack says. “You get used to it. It’s to take a copy of your fingerprint.”
I slip my finger into the tube. There’s a beep and then Morgan pulls it free.
“That’s it?”
“Done and dusted. Give me a couple of hours and we’ll be good to go. There’s pot roast in the kitchen.”
