Girl Takes The Oath (An Emily Kane Adventure Book 5) (8 page)

“She got lucky.”

Braswell nodded his head at his friend’s suggestion, then dropped his chin on his chest and peered out from under his heavy eyebrows. “Neil, I don’t think this girl is ever lucky.”

“Aw, c’mon, Ed, she’s got you wrapped around her little finger. Can’t you see that? I mean, look at us. She’s practically made us into her damned bodyguards. Here we are, following her down side streets and back alleys, and you act like there’s nothing strange going on.”

A gap in the flow of traffic allowed the young people to cross and Braswell eased the sedan up to the intersection as his partner nattered on about what they ought to do. He didn’t want to get too close, an old habit from when the people he tailed were not supposed to know it, though in this case the only person who could possibly be unaware of their presence was the boy, and even he probably knew something was up. Other than the cross traffic, no other pedestrians provided any cover, leaving Braswell and Padgett no option but to follow and observe from a discreet distance.

“Look at her,” Padgett snarled. “It’s like she’s taunting us, choosing a dark, deserted street.”

“Fine. Have it your way, but this is the job right now. In the meantime, at least two guys over there by the memorial, you marked ’em, right?”

“You think she sees ’em?”

“She made us that day.”

“So, do we move in?”

“I think we watch from here,” Braswell said. “Talk about acting like a bodyguard…”

“What’s she up to?” Padgett asked when Emily sent the young man ahead and lingered for a moment by the steps to the State Treasurer’s Office Building. “She’s talking to someone else. Step on it. Let’s get up there.”

“I think we can see all we need to see from here.”

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Chapter Seven

Violence Ensues

Since the State Assembly was not in session at this time of year, only a minimal security staff patrolled the grounds of the Governor’s Mansion and the State House. In theory, this meant three uniformed guards on station somewhere on the grounds, but in practice, probably only one man walked the circuit once an hour while the rest of the team sipped coffee in a warm basement room. Video screens showed various entry points on a rotating basis, if anyone cared to pay attention. Across the street, St. Anne’s Parish Church lay unsecured, except for the lock on the door and a low iron hoop-fence.

Emily noticed them almost as soon as her party of six cleared West Street and skirted the near side of Church Circle. McDonough’s high spirits—the afterglow of soaking up a couple of sets of his favorite music—infected the rest, and gave her an opportunity to direct them away from the trouble she saw coming. Two men in dark suits lurking under the trees on the edge of the mansion’s grounds, probably more waiting on School Street—she knew her friends would only be a liability.

“Hey, guys. Can you make sure Dave gets home okay?” she asked, though what she hoped to arrange was for this task to keep them all out of danger’s way. “I’m gonna make a little detour.”

“Hold on, Em,” McDonough said. “Stacie and CJ can do that. Maybe Zaki and I should come with you.”

“What are you talking about?” CJ asked, suddenly on high alert.

“Are we talking about something dangerous, Em?” Stacie asked. “Because we’ve got your back.”

“Not hardly, guys. I just have to take care of something, and I need a little space. So, please, just do as I ask, okay?” The expression in her eyes froze her friends in their tracks for an instant. “Take him back by College Avenue. I’ll meet you back at Bancroft. Don’t worry. I’ll just be a minute behind you. Now get going, guys,” she added in a sharp tone.

She could see that her friends didn’t like this puzzlingly urgent command, but they complied, looking back over their shoulders anxiously, as if they thought a glance might afford her some protection. As soon as she saw them clear the circle and turn down the avenue toward St. John’s, she walked briskly in the other direction, making sure the men under the trees saw her. Just as she passed out of their view, and having located a blind spot in the traffic cameras’ coverage opposite the top of Duke of Gloucester Street, she hopped over the fence surrounding the church and ran to the trees and shrubbery behind the nave. From that position she spied two teams of two, and heard the faint crackling of a radio earpiece, which might indicate the presence of a third team. A few hushed cries echoed off the bricks and cobblestones—she couldn’t quite make out what they said, though it sounded a bit like Mandarin, which she’d been studying for two years now. Of course, the nature of their distress wasn’t hard to guess.

A crude calculus worked itself out in her mind, as she peered out of the foliage like a cat: the longer they searched for her, the safer her friends would be. She might not need to confront them at all… but, if they left the circle and turned down College Avenue, her plan would have to change. As she weighed the possibilities, the best spot to confront them looked to be under a spreading Elm tree on the south lawn of the mansion, since it had good cover, and she didn’t see any security cameras. “Ironic,” she thought. “Anyone else would seek a public place, the more eyes the better. But I skulk in the hedges and strike from the shadows.” More radio chatter and one team turned exactly where she didn’t want them to go.

With some rustling of the shrubbery and a grunt, she burst from her cover in the churchyard and vaulted the fence, just loud enough to get both teams’ attention. Confused shouts pursued her down School Street—caught by surprise, men in dark gray suits gave chase—left at State Circle, her shoes slipped a bit on the cobblestones, and she sought the better traction of the sidewalk bricks. She didn’t expect to outrun them indefinitely, just long enough to duck into Randall Court, where the absence of streetlights and enough foliage to block out the moon would make it difficult to see where she’d gone. Then she could pop out on Prince George Street, sprint the few yards to the corner of Maryland Avenue, and be within sight of the gate and the guardhouse. Everything depended on getting to Randall Court with a large enough gap to keep them from flanking her.

“Mission accomplished,” she muttered, walking down the avenue a moment or two later, with just a bit more spring in her step than usual. “And I didn’t have to hurt anyone. CJ would definitely approve.” The sound of her pursuers some fifty yards behind, cursing at the corner, offered even more satisfaction. And, of course, nothing was sweeter than tipping her hat to the DSS agents in the same dark sedan as they drove off, away from their vigil at the corner of King George Street, a little over a block from the gate. “Thank goodness those idiots weren’t camped out over by Church Circle. Otherwise I might have had to fight just to protect them.”

“Spot inspection, Midshipman,” Bauer’s voice brayed at her, and she snapped to attention.

“Yes, sir,” she said, for what else could she say? Internally, however, she kicked herself for letting her guard down. Whoever she had just eluded, and however dangerous they might turn out to be, they were not her only enemies. Even if Bauer could have no notion of the scale of the dangers she was prepared to face, he could still make himself a nuisance.

And his friends could be just as troublesome. They stepped out of the shadows near the entrance of Cumberland Court and surrounded her, Trowbridge, Caspar, Martens and, of course, Kathy Gunderson.

“Late to be out on your own, Tenno.”

“Finally, no friends to hide behind,” Gunderson said.

“This is bullshit, Bauer,” Trowbridge said.

“Shoes scuffed, cover soiled, shirt loose,” Bauer said, running through the litany of charges he meant to put in his report.

“This is too good an opportunity to waste on a report,” Martens said. “You may never find her alone again.”

“Yeah, let’s make it count,” Caspar said.

Bauer looked at his friends and nodded. “This way, Midshipman,” he said, pointing to the more private darkness of Cumberland Court. “Step lively now. We may need to do a more thorough inspection.”

“Casey, that’s enough,” Gunderson said.

“You’ve had your fun,” Trowbridge growled. “It’s time to leave her be. Nothing good’s gonna happen in that alley.”

“Trowbridge, if you’re officer material, you’ll go get the gate guards,” Emily said. “That’s the only way to stay in the clear.”

“Shut it, DUB,” Caspar snapped at her. Martens shoved Emily in the back toward the alley, and she complied, glancing back at Trowbridge.

“Damn it, Casey,” Gunderson shrieked. “Cut it out.”

“You’re on your own, Bauer,” Trowbridge said. “I’m not gonna cover for you.”

“Really?” Bauer replied. “You’ll take her side over your own company?”

“This isn’t company business or brigade business.”

Bauer sneered and turned away from his friend

“Get yourself gone, Mr. Trowbridge,” Emily called out. “And take Gunderson with you.”

“Silence, Tenno,” Martens said. “You’ve had this coming for a long time now.”

“In this alley, we leave the fleet behind, Mr. Martens,” she said. “No ranks in here. Be warned.”

“That’s quite a mouth on you, DUB,” Caspar said, and grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms. That she offered no resistance ought, perhaps, to have given him some pause.

“We’re gonna have to mark up your face, Tenno,” Martens said, as he raised his hand to strike her. “Hold her steady.”

“Watch out,” Bauer cried out. “She’s dangerous.”

But the warning came too late. Emily had already seized control of Caspar’s hand, twisting it down and then out, extorting a shriek of pain from him as he cartwheeled into Bauer, inadvertently striking him in the face with his feet. Martens stared at her in disbelief, hand still upraised, helpless as she drove a sharp knuckle into his biceps. Before he could cry out in pain, she had already pivoted into an elbow strike to the soft spot in the center of his chest, and then delivered a fully extended back-kick to the same spot, sending him sprawling backwards onto the cobblestones.

“You bitch,” Caspar yelled, struggling to untangle himself from Bauer, and then the two of them charged at her, arms outstretched. She stepped to her left to evade Caspar, and seized Bauer’s hand, pressing the knuckles with both thumbs as she pivoted again, and pulled him forward over her shoulder, flipping him onto Martens’ supine body. Just before releasing him, she tugged on his wrist sharply enough to dislocate his shoulder, so that he howled until the back of his head crashed into Martens’ face. Then the two of them went silent.

“This is the end of the Academy for you,” Caspar said, and swung his fist at her face, but too slowly to catch up to her, since she had already struck his arm twice, in the biceps and the crook of his elbow, which cracked ominously. Three more strikes hit his chest and face before he was able to respond, or perhaps even quite know what was happening to him. As a final blow, she struck him across the nose with the heel of her palm, breaking it and leaving his face bloodied. He crumpled to the ground.

Standing over Bauer and Martens, she glowered down at them, her face warm with anger. Bauer looked up at her and cringed, covering his face with his good arm. “Shall I send someone to help you guys get home?” she asked, and then turned and walked back to the avenue, where she found Trowbridge and Gunderson gaping at her. The entire incident had probably taken less than fifteen seconds, not enough time for them to have gotten very far, even if they’d tried.

“What have you done?” Gunderson stammered out.

“I resisted an unlawful assault.” When Gunderson said nothing, she added, “Don’t worry, they’ll live. Who knows, maybe I managed to knock some sense into them.”

~~~~~~~

When the word finally came, a few days later, Emily assumed it would be about the business with Bauer and his buddies. What would she say if they accused her of insubordination, assault, conduct unbecoming, etc.? She hadn’t intended to make a formal accusation against them, and expected none in return, since the bruises would announce pretty clearly what had transpired in that alley. The safer path for them would be to keep quiet and lick their wounds, rather than risk the humiliation of admitting she’d beaten them, not to mention the unsavory implications of their own intent in attacking her. Was this the best policy? She knew Zaki would disapprove and quote the code to her: “a midshipman ensures that the truth is known.” But old habits die hard, and the practice of secrecy was deeply ingrained in her family.

“Good Morning, Miss Tenno,” Captain Jefferies said as she stepped into the Commandant’s office. “These agents would like to have a word with you. I hope it isn’t necessary to remind you of your obligation to be frank and forthright in answering their questions.”

“No, sir.”

Some of the people in the room had familiar faces, Braswell and Padgett from DSS—what were they doing here? The other four, two men and two women, were new to her experience.

“Detective Marley, APD,” one of the women said. “This is my partner, Detective Hedges. Can you account for your movements last Friday?

“Yes, Ma’am.” The question seemed simple enough, but Emily knew that not all of her evening could be related with equal safety. “I went to a lecture at St. John’s, and then met some friends at the Ram’s Head. These gentlemen from DSS can corroborate that,” she added with a nod to Braswell, who remained impassive.

“And after the Ram’s Head?” Marley asked.

“I walked back to the Yard.”

“Alone?”

“My friends and I parted company at Church Circle. They walked someone home along College Avenue, and I crossed over to State Circle and took Maryland Avenue. I met up with some other mids over by Cumberland Court.” The last bit brought a smile to her face, since she got the information out, though without giving any sense of the character of that meeting.

“Any incidents along the way?”

“What is this about?”

“Just answer the question, Miss,” Hedges growled at her.

“I saw several men loitering outside the Governor’s Mansion. They yelled something at me, and I took off down School Street.”

“Were you in Randall Court at any point?” Marley asked.

“I’m not sure if they followed me, but I ducked in there to lose ’em if they were. Now, would you mind telling me what this is all about?”

“Right now, your job is to answer questions, Miss Tenno,” one of the other men said.

“And you are?” she asked.

“Agent Horton, NCIS,” he said, flipping a badge open for her. “Did you have any physical contact of any kind with the men you saw?”

“No, sir.”

“We have CCTV footage of you running along State Circle, and of the men pursuing you,” the last unfamiliar face said. When Emily looked at her quizzically, she said, “Agent Everett, NCIS.”

“So that confirms what I said, right?”

“Any idea why they chased you?” Horton asked.

“No, sir,’ she said, taking some consolation from the fact she had not had to lie yet. In truth, she didn’t know what they wanted, since Kano had not been able to tell her anything specific in their first meeting. “Doesn’t this seem like a lot of attention for a street crime that didn’t quite happen?”