Backup Procedure Chapter 11:

           Off to one side of the Maple and Wraith market was the Fuller Fish Grill. Due to the constant open connections the Locks created and the active seeding of species such as the Makers, the Descended and recently the humans sea life was fairly consistent. Some planets had their own unique life, but the majority had things that would not have been too out of place in Earth's oceans. Making the issue more complicated was the millions of years of cross pollination and local evolution.

           On some planets the earth based life had grown into things more alien than the native fauna. Such as Argos which had crab-like motile polyps. Despite their shimmering forms and triangular symmetry, they were merely an offshoot of terrestrial corals that predated on the native and less strange fish-like species. Domesticated species further blended the rules, again the various Maker designed creatures were the most obvious examples, but the Descended and the humans had their own creations.

           A similar mess of deliberate planting, parallel evolution, and outright intelligent design was at work above the waves, though with less scale and time. The degree of natural spread was also greatly reduced as few air-breathing species could naturally dive down to the depth of a Lock for transit.

           This made fish one of a colony's primary staples. Proximity to fisheries was often a prime consideration when setting up a settlement, right up there with local weather, Lock distance, harbor depth, and soil conditions. Fishing was also more critical on a colony's early days, before the soil could be fully rehabilitated towards farming. A process that, depending on local biology, could last a couple seasons to more than a decade.

           Thus the harvesting, preparation, and storage of fish became a vital part to a colony's livelihood, becoming even more vital the further out the colony got, and the more expensive goods from Earth and the Inner colonies became.

           The Fuller Fish Grill specialized in preparing the local foods in novel ways, using both human and Descended spices and preparation methods. Bright lights with blue sconces lit the chrome trimmed tables and chairs. Built of a high-ceiling prefab set, the whole restaurant was a single open room This included the kitchens which spread the smells of grilling fish and stews through the room.

           In one corner a gangly man in a trim navy blue suit sat. He had a bowl of simmering soup, a grilled fillet of grouper, and a glass of red wine. Next to his meal was a slim tablet, its holographics displaying a contour map next to a shipping manifest.

           He lifted it up and scrolled through some of the listings. There was a ringing, and he pulled out a simple pre-paid phone. He looked at its display. The phone had come free with a pack of cat food he had bought. "Yes, Bruce what's wrong?"

           "We've got a big problem!" Teage cried.

           "Well, yes that narrows the scale of the problem." Giuseppe looked out the floor to ceiling windows that made up the fish grill. Beyond was a mass of people shifting though the market. Most of the shops were quick pavilion tents filled with boxes and crates. There were a few that had piles of produce and fresh meats, wares from the outlying farms. The pouring rain seemed to do little to dampen the merchants or the consumers.

           "It won't work. They can't get out. I warned you. I warned you!" Teage babbled into the phone.

           "We'll setup a meeting." Giuseppe frowned. "Where are you?"

           "I'm at Café Alistair."

           Giuseppe exhaled through his teeth. He had not secured that location; he had not even planted his own listening devices. "How urgent is this?"

           "The guests will miss their flight."

           Giuseppe swore. "Come to me then. I'm at the Fuller."

           "I know where that is!" Teage said, brightening.

           "Good. Come." Giuseppe disconnected his phone. Shaking his head, he wrote a brief report on his tablet. After proofing it, he sent it out to a mailbox at the Institute facility in Rossford. Going through just one Lock, the expense was far less than sending it to headquarters.

           Then he waited, sipping his wine. The soup's spicy tang helped things. He looked out the window and kept discretely scanning the crowd.

           Lowering his tablet display, Giuseppe looked to the door. It opened with a grating chime and a bald man in soaking wet shorts and work vest shambled in. Giuseppe pulled a phone out of his coat pocket. Eying the cheap device, he kept his expression neutral. He then turned it off.

           Looking around the shop, he nodded and gave a small wave to his guest. Teage approached. With obvious reluctance the soaked man looked around the restaurant.

           "I assure you, we're safe." Giuseppe held out his hand palm up and pointed to a chair. "Please, sit." He considered a privacy field. On the one hand, having the professor enter a jammed conversation would be suspicious. He wished he was in a Descended establishment, jammers were far less notable among their eateries. On the other the contents of the conversation were doubtlessly even more suspicious.

           Concentrating, Giuseppe sent a programmed jolt from his capacitor mods into the crystal jamming sphere. The air around him vibrated slightly. He did not like using this tech out in the open but time was critical. The screen on his tablet distorted and he idly turned it off.

           "No, we're not." After a couple tries, Teage pulled out the chair and flopped into it, dripping on the floor.

           "Have you been drinking?"

           Teage looked down. "No."

           "Shame, you should." Giuseppe flagged down a waitress. "My good associate will have another glass of wine, and –oh- a double of bourbon. Just to warm him up mind you."

           The waitress, a slim Descended with curly pink hair, nodded.

           "Have you eaten? The chef here is quite good."

           "Had lunch." Teage said.

           "Ah, good then." Giuseppe nodded and dismissed the waitress.

           She returned with a class of wine and a large shot glass of amber fluid. Noticing Teage's anxiety she gave a broad, perky grin and leaned down to place the glasses in front of him.

           As the waitress walked away with a noticeable sway, Giuseppe chuckled. "Problem?"

           "No..." Teage eyed the shot glass. He picked it up and drained it in one gulp. "Yes, yes," he coughed out.

           Leaning forward, Giuseppe turned off his tablet, the holographics winking out. "What happened?" he asked, his voice tight.

           Teage wiped his forehead, getting the last bits of rain off. "The Company's here. Alice spotted something watching us, flying overhead. They didn't want it to be seen, but she has abilities."

           "I see." Giuseppe leaned back in his chair. He took his wineglass and sighed. "And thus not only do you immediately blame WIC for such a nefarious action but then you leap to the conclusion that they know of our plan and are subtly trying to sabotage it."

           "You do know the Company is riddled with alien influences?" Teage chuckled, his voice grew confident. "You think such sinister acts are beyond them?"

           A chill briefly blew over Giuseppe. He set the glass down. "Really now?"

            "Of course they'll be subtle, I'm working for the Navy." Teage giggled. "Don't you know, exploiting alien artifacts for military use is as American as apple pie."

           Giuseppe began to regret his subcontractors. The lack of professionalism was a pain leaving him with needling, needy neophytes or dangerously deranged, Descended.

           "It's obvious, that the Company can't openly move against me," Teage proudly stated.

           "Unless the Navy is in league with the Company," Giuseppe said. At least the professor managed to keep his voice down.

           "In that case, the Navy know what's going on and is letting us move forward." Teage laughed.

           WonGiuseppe raised an eyebrow. "That seems unlikely."

           "Perhaps your employer should consider that option."

           "I'll be sure to forward that concern." Giuseppe deadpanned.

           Teage pouted.

           "So, you believe that if the company knows of your activities then they will try to quietly take you out."

           "Why else use a stealth plane? Then they'll liquidate everything," Teage added. He finally picked up his wineglass and took a sip. The professor nodded thoughtfully at the glass and raised it in a salute to the tall man across from him.

           Giuseppe closed his eyes. "You've still jumped to a conclusion. You assume full knowledge on their part. They may simply be putting pieces into place, watching, waiting. Do they know what is going on? Or are they merely suspicious?"

           "Well there's agents along the road assembling a little checkpoint," Teage giggled to himself.  "Alice called me after I got over;  it seems that it might not be best for me to try to return."

           Giuseppe stopped and looked the professor in the eye. "Wait, they're setting up a checkpoint?"

           "Almost as if they're worried about something being smuggled," Teage sighed.

           Giuseppe found himself sighing. "What did she see?"

           "She spotted activity on the access road, it's by the Company's private beach but you know they can't be interested in that. They already had their picnic."

           "Really?" Part of Giuseppe knew it was thin information, but part of him found Teage's paranoia intriguing.

           "A lovely woman." Teage wriggled his eyebrows. "Alice is no ordinary student."

           Giuseppe shook his head in disgust. He was not above using people as bait, but to relish it was remarkably poor form. Yet another similarity his sub-contractors shared. He turned to his dinner and ate some of the now cold grouper.

           "You're not taking this seriously," Teage whined. "What do I have to say to get some real help?  I can't even go back, can I? Should I go stay with Ryung  at the garage?"

           "Bruce, shut up." Giuseppe clenched his fist; he could see it slipping away.  The size of the payloads was the real problem.  It made discretion so very vital.

           "Huh?"

           "I believe you."

           "You believe that I'm being in a trap? I mean they secure the sky with that robot, block the road with some agents, all that's left is to put a recon team up in the hills and put a sub offshore."          

           "A Recon team? A submarine?" Giuseppe allowed himself to sigh. "I believe the Company's bird-dogging for the navy"

           "Yes and you've admitted to the bugs that have been emplaced."

           "Those are minor, those can be spoofed or burned out. No, live bodies give a larger problem," Giuseppe said.

           "Even if they're just watching?" Scoffing, Teage looked around the room, of course his back was to the door and the front windows. "I'm worried about them shooting or worse."

           "They don't need to shot anything. The plan requires a level of discretion. Intercepting is a trivial matter."

           "You need to fix it," Teage quietly wailed.

           Giuseppe held his tongue. "Yes, I am responsible. Thank you for informing me."

           "What are you going to do about it?"

           "I'll tell you what needs to be changed." Giuseppe exhaled. "the situation is still salvageable."

           "But if we can't use the shipping-"

           Giuseppe cut him off. "Enough. Believe me. I know the limitations. I know the alternatives."

           "So, things will still work out?"

           Giuseppe smiled. "Of course. Our employer has our trust."

           A semblance of relief crossed Teage's face.

           "I suggest you go to your hotel room," Giuseppe straightened his tie. "Do what you would normally do. If you were supposed to call back to the dig site do that, if you're not don't.  Don't try to give any encoded info if you do; they'll know the situation is bad. And whatever you do, do not try to contact Ryung. Don't even think about going to the garage."

           "Shouldn't I go back?"

           Giuseppe rolled his wrist. "Ideally, I would want you back there to keep an eye on the situation. I'll check my sources and see if it's safe for you to return."

           "What about Ryung? His part-"

           Giuseppe held up his hand. "Yes, I know, and that's why you shouldn't... distract him.  I'll make sure he's okay."

           "Thank you,"  Teage said, relieved. "I just thought you should know."

           Giuseppe patted the professor's hand. "And you were right to warn me."

           Teage nodded and left the fish market.

           Watching him go, Giuseppe frowned. He took out the cheap phone. It was a risk, but if Teage's words were correct then the plan was in trouble. The professor could already be followed, Giuseppe himself could be under surveillance. The lanky man's frown deepened, the revised plan was in trouble. At least now he did not regret using the sphere.

           After pulling the one time pad chip out of his watch, he opened the phone, plugged the chip in and dialed. It connected to a forwarding exchange and he dialed again. Finally it rang and after entering a third set of numbers the final connection locked into place and the chip activated. The timer started and it began burning off random numbers, steadily decrypting the incoming signal, rewarding the tall man with Adrian Miller's smooth voice.

           "Yes Giuseppe what is the emergency?"

           "Benefactor," Giuseppe stated.

           "Not even going to pretend to be shocked?" Miller huffed. "In my day we humored our elders."

           "Of course, Sir."

           "Teage must have convinced you of something quite dire." Miller's voice burbled with regret.     

           "His babble was quite indiscrete."
           "I suppose your concerns about him were valid. Your caution seems to have been warranted." Miller sighed.

           "Then you already know?"

           "I can surmise. You would only use this source in the most dire of circumstances, and yet you are not personally endangered, and of your sub contractors there is only one level-headed and connected enough to warn you and posses knowledge worthy of contacting me in this way."

           "Quite correct, Sir, and obviously it would pertain to the plan and greatly endanger it."

           The line was silent.

           "Sir?"

           Miller sighed again; it was raspy. "I foresaw this risk."

           "My first order is to confirm the presence around the site. Depending on the proximity and strength we should still be able to extract the guests."

           "Correct, proceeded as planned, until it becomes clear that the plan is untenable."

           "And then shall I take care of Teage? I have enough resources to remove him and create a buffer around the site," the tall man pushed his plate towards the center of the table and drained his wineglass.

           "Eager, loyal Giuseppe," Miller coughed. "Do not worry you will not want for support."

           Holding the glass stem, Giuseppe felt his spine chill.

           "Sir?"

           "Like you, I realized the fragility of the plan." Miller chuckled. "But unlike you I had the resourced to ensure that backups were in place. Backups, that while they lack the grace of the existing plan, are far more robust."

           Clutching the phone, Giuseppe's fingers went white. "When were you planning to inform me of these alternates?"

           "Dear Giuseppe, recall your place. Compartmentalization is vital in your field is it not?"

           The lanky man exhaled. "Correct. Then Sir, what do I need to know?"

           "Your mission has not changed. Need I stress that the plan may not need to be changed. I await your reconnaissance on the situation."

           "Ah."

           "Your job is still, harassment of those that would interfere with the recovery. The only potential differences are the method of recovery and any.. supplementary harassment."

***************

           Bearing a dazed grin, Laura Fleming strode towards the gatehouse. Her jumpsuit fitted loosely over her body and her blonde hair was limp and a bit greasy. Reaching the line into the depot, she rubbed her eyes and shivered. The people in front of her ignored her as her grin weakened before resuming its stiff cheer.

           The serpentine line of dockworkers and other freight handlers shortened until Laura was next. Built in an archway adjacent to the inner perimeter ward pylon the gate house straddled the twin lines of fencing that separated the bases and ports from the rest of Mooring.

           One of the agents manning the gate beckoned Laura forward. She handed him her company identity card. After passing it through a scanner, Harold Green looked at the card then at the woman.

           Her hair was messy, though more from lack of immediate maintenance than long term problems. Similarly, while her blue eyes were quite pretty they were bloodshot and sunken. Her cheeks also looked a bit drawn and had a grayish pallor. Her eyes focused and the distant, disoriented look to her diminished.

           Harold guessed she could be a pretty woman, if she were not sick. Remembering the warning he got on his weekly brief he held her card. "You sure you're ready to come back to work?" he asked, slightly accusingly.

           "Oh no, I worked yesterday," Laura coughed, holding her mouth behind her hand. "I shouldn't have though. I told my supervisor about it."

           Harold checked the dossier for Laura Fleming, assistant inventory coordinator. The previous day had been the first day back after a prolonged illness absence. "Ah, and how did Samuel take it?"

           Laura blinked. "My supervisor's name is Samantha," she stated tight-lipped.

           "Yes, my mistake." Looking at the building line. Harold handed the woman her card back. "Are you sure you want to come into work today? You've still got over a week of sick days."

           "Yeah... I do." Laura gave another cough. "But, no I'll be okay."

           "Hope you feel better."

           "Thanks." Despite having her head feel like it was wrapped in cotton, Laura grinned.

           Frowning slihgtly, Harold watched her go. If he had to guess she seemed to be slightly hung-over. Shrugging he updated her profile to add a caution flag and wondered why the gatekeeper had not flagged her yesterday. As he went to the next person in line, he promised himself that he would call her superior and the yesterday's guard. Letting an employee work when ill was just an accident waiting to happen.

***************

            Kenva stepped into the Director's office. She looked around the bare opulence and for a moment was disgusted. Then she noted exactly how bare it was. There were no papers, no notes, it was too bare. The room was empty save for a blotter, a computer, chairs, and other props.

            Victoria looked up, and saw Kenva's knowing glance. Folding her hands before her, she gave a prim smile

            Matching her grin, the Descended passed a folded piece of paper onto the polished black desk, onto the stage.

            Bearing a small frown Victoria picked it up. She studied the image of an older, thin man in a dark suit. "Well. Is the Empire interested in a... contract?"

            Kenva raised an eyebrow. "He's not in our database, unsurprisingly. However, he's not in the US Navy database either."

            "The Company does have it's own sources."  Victoria put the paper back onto the desk an smoothed it out. "I trust he's connected with your S'manima?"

            "Confirmed."  Kenva placed a drive onto the desk. "We've got footage of him dealing Nevlani. At the very least, we think he's another importer."

            "But you want confirmation?" Victoria leaned forward.

            "We have evidence of Nevlani working with at least one other importer.  We have a list of items she procured and the drop-off time, but we don't know where she is."

            "Let me assure you that the Company would do all in it's power to bring in someone like Nevlani."

            "That's what Pascal said you'd say."

            Victoria inclined her head.  She went back to the paper. "Is that all?"

            "I'm not sure he's just another importer," Kenva admitted.

            "Really?"

            "From the list we have, I don't think Nevlani needed anything else."

            Clasping her hands, Victoria touched the tips of her fingers to her chin.  She studied the purple woman.  She was apprehensive; her tail swished nervously. "Is this...  creature for hire?" Victoria asked.

            Kenva looked out the large window behind the Director. "She's done independent work but... always with a payoff."

            "Perhaps, he's a client then."  Victoria forced a smile.

            "Or a handler." Kenva nodded.  "That is our fear."

            "Fear? The woman is a monster already."

            "An impulsive monster, and one that becomes more dangerous with someone... directing her."

            "You think this is related to Pascal's little problem, then." Victoria raised an eyebrow.

            Kenva put a hand onto the desk. "I am not comfortable with attributing such things to coincidence."

            "Appropriate then." Victoria gave a nod. "The Company will provide it's assistance."

            "And payment?"

            "Will be determined by the level of assistance, and if it goes beyond the contract Pascal has already signed."

            Kenva raised an eyebrow.

            "Resources are already in place to deal with Pascal's concerns."

            The Descended gave a little nod.

            Victoria smiled at the woman's slight relief. "Are your marines not enough?"

            "Are you going to criticize my use of them at the deli?"
            "Not at all, a show of strength is always effective, especially out here. Excessive force is just a way of showing intensity." Leaning back, Victoria met Kenva's gaze.

            The officer chuckled, weakly.

            "Don't assume I'm patronizing.  I realize the damage that someone like Nevlani can cause."

            Kenva gave a little smile. Before she could open her mouth,  a phone rang.        Victoria pulled it out of her jacket. "Yes...  I see." She stood up.

            Kenva saw the human's expression shift from a cold mask to simply cold.

            Victoria motioned for Kenva to rise. "Agreed. Valid concern. Secure the area, approach and verify, if trouble take her alive if possible."

            Standing, Kenva adjusted her uniform. "Nevlani?"

            There was a sharp crack across the airbase. Glancing out the window, Victoria's expression tightened.  "I would guess that one of my employees has been... compromised."

            "Shipping then?" Kenva nodded. "Let us hope that you are fully prepared for the damage a S'manima can cause."

            Waking around the desk, Victoria's eyes narrowed. She folded the paper and slipped it in her coat. "An assistant inventory coordinator."
            "Let me guess: female, somewhere in the early twenties."

            "Standard mole profile." Victoria hissed through her teeth. "We put security on alert but..." Frowning she picked up the jump drive.

            "But they caught her." Kenva followed her out of the office.

            "Information on Nevlani's associate?"

            "And her other contacts," Kenva nodded.

            With a hint of trepidation, Victoria went through the side door to her secretary's office.  She dropped the drive onto her secretary's desk.  "Secure this,  run on an isolated system."

            The little freckled woman gave a surprised nod.  She picked up a slim metal box, opened it, and put the drive inside.

            Following Victoria, Kenva gave a ghost of a grin.

            "Security, always security," Victoria muttered. "Miss Paulings continue forwarding to my mobile, if I'm out of contact route it to Commander Furnas."

            Walking down the corridor, Kevna grinned, showing her fangs. "This...  if Norton is correct then Teage needs to move something...  and now we've got Nevlani getting to one of your shippers."

            Victoria turned back and raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

            The Vird's grin died. "I know;  you don't use Nevlani for subtle work. You use her to blow things up..."

             "Or to get to people.  Our human friend is human after-all."

            Kenva shivered. "Yes... and only a S'manima would do this."

            Victoria gave a little grunt. She dialed Furnas. "Commander, release the team. I want them ready to strike." She paused. "Correct, this could be their opportunity."

            The human turned back to the Descended and led her down a set of stairs. She gave the imperial officer a critical look.

            "Yes?" Kenva asked.

            "I presume you'll want in on this. If my employee truly has been compromised then... she would be useful in your manhunt."

            Kenva exhaled. "Yes, yes, she would."

***************

           Stepping out of the sun-glared alleyway, Giuseppe closed the thick metal door behind him and engaged the lock.  The room was large and poorly lit  by a handful of harsh ceiling fixtures that did little more than cause pools of brightness among drifts of darkened, murky flooring.

           A couple large crates had been broken down and their contents had been scattered on a table that had been pulled into a bright spot. Bits of tubing and machinery had been formed and were attached to several large steel pressure vessels. 

           Looking at the workbench he surprised a sigh.  At least there were no blueprints tacked onto the wall, let alone an idling computer tablet.  Here was some semblance of caution.

           Turning away from the workshop he focused on the object that dominated the garage.   The tractor and trailer looked dusty, slightly worn, and heavily used.  Much like any of the other hauler that regularly crossed Mooring's streets and ran deliveries throughout Cooke Island Originally it was, and the tractor was still essentially the same.  However the contents of the cargo crate had been matched to suit their needs.

           Standing before the trailer, Giuseppe coughed. He then picked up a length of pipe and thumped it against the corrugated steel of the cargo crate.  Holding the pipe, he waited, head cocked to the side.  Hearing swearing and frantic movement from within the tractor's cab, he smiled slightly.

           After a half a minute the door to the cab opened and a disheveled slim young man hopped down onto the concrete.  He raised an eye at Giuseppe's thin tie and the small neat lapels of his suit coat. "Ah you're the Prof's fancy friend."

           Giuseppe's smile grew. "Indeed I am."  He eyed the trailer.  At least the registration numbers painted on the side were correct. "Your message said everything was in order."

           Ryung swore again. "Yeah it is.  Even checked up the numbers."  The graduate student shook his head. "What's the deal with that? Nobody looks at that  they just scan the RFID and get the shipping info that way."

           "And how hard was that to change?" Giuseppe asked, his smile becoming more amused.

           . "It's just numbers. Of course it becomes a lot more easy when someone's giving you all the numbers,"  The stout, young man eyed the thin, old man.

           Giuseppe laughed. "Finally, someone asking the right questions."

           Ryung blinked. "Uh, whatever. Look, I got the stuff ready, but really you should thank whoever loaded that thing in the first place." He tapped the trailer with his fist. "They're the ones that did all the heavy lifting and most of their setup wasn't even wrong."

           "Don't worry about that,  they've already been rewarded for their work," Giuseppe turned and started walking to the back of the trailer. "Are you sure it was mostly to spec before you got to it?"

           "Yeah, they even had the power systems dialed in.  You'll have a good hydrothermal hold for at least fifty hours."  Ryung coughed. "Is something wrong?"

           Not taking his eyes from the double doors on the back of the trailer, Giuseppe raised an eyebrow. "That one took you a but longer to ask."

           "The timetable hasn't been moved up, cause then you'd just  call me and tell me to drive over, instead of doin' it tonight like we planed.  And you're  still not giving me orders so it can't bee too much of an emergency."

           "Call it an old man's concern."  Giuseppe inspected the door seals. The strips of translucent tape were embedded in various corporate and medical glyphs and each had their own sets of RFID tags. 

           Ryung sighed. "The Prof's paranoia's gotten to you too?"

           Giuseppe's gaze snapped from the trailer to the young man who took a step back. "What did he tell you?" Giuseppe hissed out.

           "Doc Teage?  Nothin'. I haven't talked with him since I started working on this mess." Ryung found himself looking off to the side. "And that's for the best.  The guy's brilliant but..."

           "But?" Giuseppe's voice had lost all of its hostility.

           "It's getting to him.  I mean when they didn't want to wake up,  that really threw him into a loop, you know. The Prof's not used to being wrong.  Especially not in his area of expertise."

           Giuseppe allowed himself to nod. "I've noticed he's been troubled. One hopes the resolution of events will calm him."

           "Really? Is that why you're having a nice chat with me?"

           Toothily grinning, Giuseppe nodded. "This is a nice chat isn't it?" He studied the back of the trailer once more "Yes,  at least something's working well."

           "Ah,  something is wrong."

           "Potentially, potentially,"  Giuseppe reached into his coat and withdrew a cheap, slim phone.  He held it out until Ryung reached for it.

           Slightly disguised, Ryung frowned at the device. It looked like one of the sad trinkets that were bundled with boxes of wilted fruit or sold by the bushel to the Descended who were cheap, paranoid, or especially clumsy. He doubted the phone would work after a week of use, but he also doubted it would still be around after a week.

           He looked up at the older man with a little frown.

           "Just in case."  Giuseppe assured. "If I don't call, proceed as planned."

           "What if something happens on the drive? What if I get stopped?"

           Giuseppe's lips tightened into a frown. He spoke briskly but evenly. "If you get stopped on the way out, show them your shipping manifest and play dumb.  Just tell them where you're taking the cargo container, where you're supposed to be taking it. Then drive there. If they press give them the contact numbers on the manifest. That should keep them from opening it,  if they insist then that's that, but don't worry everything in the trailer would be on the manifest then."

           Ryung blinked. "Uh,  they?  What are you talking about?  I'm asking what if I get stopped, you know a flat tire or stuck in traffic.  Hell, the road could be blocked out by an overturned truck."

           Giuseppe's hand reached up and gently rubbed his forehead. "Okay... that's a good point."

           After nodding, Ryung looked back up at the thin man. "But what about what you were saying? Is someone going to try to stop us?"

           Giuseppe shifted his coat. "That is a potential risk.  I am taking steps to deal with it.  As for more... mundane delays, use the phone if you're about to move outside your hour buffer."

           "Ah." Ryung turned the phone over and tried to turn it on. The small screen remained black.

           Giuseppe tilted his head, then tapped the back of the case. "The battery's disconnected.  Just remove the shrink-wrap before using."

           Hesitantly pocketing the phone, Ryung nodded.

           Looking back at the trailer, Giuseppe nodded.   Stepping back, he smoothed his tie. "I suggest you make yourself ready. Missing you queue would be quite inadvisable."

           "That's what I was doing," Ryung mumbled.

           Giuseppe's eyes narrowed.

           Ryung wilted. "Uh, sorry Sir."

            "Right." Giuseppe shook his head and headed for the door. "Remember the phone."