Night and Day (Book 2): Bleeding Sky (14 page)

Grenowski
and Meyers were only interested in Captain Bristow’s opinion. He disagreed
with something, so did they. He liked an idea, they loved it. They were the
military equivalent of company men. Not very useful to me in this setting,
but I could probably count on them to follow their orders, whatever those
orders might be. And that was all I needed from them.

Jimmy
Mutz had been an almost silent participant, watching, listening, rarely
adding anything. That was okay. When he had a point to make, he made it. My
main reason for having him there was so he’d know the plan and could pass it
on to his officers. If he had any suggestions, he could always share them
with me directly.

Meyers
had been taking notes as we talked, jotting down each point that was
decided. When we’d talked ourselves out, I looked at him. “Do you have what
you need for the rewrite of the security plan, lieutenant?”

He
flipped through his notes and nodded. “I believe so, sir.”

“Good.
Get it written up and distributed. Then work with Captain Bristow to update
the general site plan with the changes.”

“Yes,
sir.”

“I’ll
be in my office for another hour or so if you have questions,” I said. I
stood. “Dismissed.”

As
I turned to my office, Stein said, “Mr. Welles. A moment, sir?”

“Come
into my office and have a seat, lieutenant,” I said without looking at
him.

As
I settled into the chair behind my desk, he stepped into the room, closed
the door, and saluted. “Sir.”

“I
told you to come in and have a seat, lieutenant.”

“Yes,
sir,” he said. “Sorry, sir.” He sat in one of the chairs in front of the
desk.

“So
what’s on your mind?”

“Sir,
I’m afraid we might have gotten off on the wrong foot this morning. I hope
it won’t negatively impact how you evaluate my performance and my
capabilities.”

I
leaned back in the chair. “You fucked up, Jake,” I said. “It is Jake, isn’t
it?”

At
his nod, I continued, “I understand that your intentions were good. I have
no doubt that you are fully committed to success in this operation. But
you’re not just dealing with Security Force troopers, people you can order
around and expect obedience. You’re dealing with civilians. Civilians don’t
like being told what to do. They’ll do it, if they think it’s in their best
interests, but having one of your troopers tell them that they were being
shut down isn’t the way. Even if it was in their best interests. Which, in
this case, it wasn’t.”

“Sir...”
he began.

“I’m
not finished, lieutenant,” I said softly. “If I thought it was necessary to
close the businesses around the square, I would have gone to each one,
personally. I would have told them that we believed the square might be a
full-on war zone by nightfall. I would have explained that there was no way
we could guarantee the safety of them, their staff, their customers, or
their businesses. And I would have recommended that they close for the
duration, in the interests of their own safety and that of their employees.”
I paused. “If I did that, I can almost guarantee that every business
fronting this square would be shuttered by sundown.”

Stein
didn’t say anything.

“So
you fucked up, Jake. Twice. First by exceeding your orders and second in the
way you exceeded them.”

“Yes,
sir.”

“But
that’s okay. You’re a soldier, and you’re not used to worrying about what
civilians think. So I don’t hold it against you, and it’s not going any
further up the chain. Think of it as a learning experience. Just don’t
forget that your blue suit doesn’t give you the right to do whatever you
want.” That last bit was something Jimmy Mutz told me on my first day in the
patrol car with him. It seemed appropriate. “Is there anything else,
lieutenant.”

“Yes,
sir. Trooper Martinez. I understand you’ve requested she be assigned to the
command platoon.”

“That’s
right,” I said. “I need a Security Force aide. She seemed to be cooling her
heels in the operations center as a tour guide. They won’t miss her.” I
paused. “Is that a problem, Stein?”

“Did
you request her for a specific reason, sir?”

“I
did,” I said. “As you might have noticed, I believe in second chances. We’re
human. We make mistakes. And those mistakes only matter if we continue to
repeat them.” I paused. “In Trooper Martinez’s case, I don’t actually
believe she made a mistake, based on what I’ve heard about the incident. So
I am reversing what I see as someone else’s mistake. Is that clear enough
for you, lieutenant?”

He
didn’t say anything, but his face got a little red.

“I
thought it would be. She’ll be with the command platoon for the duration of
this operation, as my personal aide. When the operation is over, I assume
she’ll be returned to your platoon. I hope you will welcome her
back.”

“Yes,
sir.” Stein seemed to be getting the message.

“Good.
Unless there’s something else, you’re dismissed.”

He
stood and saluted. “Sir.” He did a crisp about-face, opened the door, and
marched out.

I
smiled. This command thing was beginning to grow on me. I wondered if Sara
and Cynthia might be coaxed into a salute now and then.

I
was leaning back in the chair, looking out through the window at the
activity in the square and beyond. Troopers were setting up sandbag
emplacements around the perimeter of the square itself and had established a
loose cordon on the other side of the streets that bordered the square.
There were city cops here and there, patrolling the sidewalks, and I caught
sight of Jimmy standing near Eddie’s Dogs. He was talking to one of his
officers and pointing down the sidewalk.

A
Humvee came through the checkpoint at First Street and pulled to the curb at
the northwest corner of the square. Trooper Carlita Martinez climbed out,
leaned in, said something to the driver, and slammed the door. She had a
duffle bag over her shoulder and a big smile on her face.

I
watched her cross the square, heading for the door of the command trailer.
She’d slow down and talk with a group of troopers briefly, then continue on.
I saw the occasional high-five.

The
front door opened. Troopers manning the consoles and terminals on the other
side of the trailer seemed happy to see her. I heard more than one ‘Hey,
Lita,’ and a couple of them congratulated her.

“Out
of the hole, bitches,” I heard her say. “The queen of B Company is
back...in... business.”

I
heard her quick footsteps down the hall toward my office, and heard Bristow
say, “Trooper Martinez. In there.”

“Sir,”
she said. She came through the open door and stopped, staring at me.
Apparently nobody had told her who she was reporting to.

“Sir,”
she said, coming to attention and raising her arm in a crisp salute.
“Trooper Carlita Martinez.” She paused. “Sir, I’m afraid the trooper has
forgotten your name.”

“Close
the door, Martinez.”

“Sir.”
She turned and closed the door, then turned back to me and returned to
attention, her eyes focused somewhere above and behind my head.

“Trooper,
pull the stick out of your ass, stop talking about yourself in third person
and sit down.”

“Yes,
sir,” she said. She sat in the same chair Lt. Stein had occupied fifteen
minutes earlier. Her position was a sort of seated attention, back straight,
hands on her thighs.

I
sighed. “You seemed pretty relaxed and loose on your walk over here,” I
said. “You think you can maybe relax a little now?”

For
a moment, I was afraid I’d made a bad choice with her. This military
discipline shit was understandable, but hard for me to tolerate, even in
small doses. If I had to deal with it from my aide, it would make me nuts
and I might have to toss her back in the pond.

She
stared at me for a moment, then let her shoulders droop a little and leaned
back in the chair. “Better, sir?”

“Much,”
I said. “Since you’ve forgotten, my name is Charlie Welles. I’m a private
investigator. I’ve been hired by General Bain to oversee the Security Force
during the day as they provide security and protection for Dr. Konrad
Heymann, the former German ambassador to the United States.” I paused. “I
requested that you be assigned to me as my aide for the duration of this
operation.”

“Your
aide, sir?”

“Did
nobody tell you anything about this assignment?”

She
shook her head. “No, sir. The post sergeant told me I’d been reassigned, and
Dag didn’t know anything.” She was silent for a moment. “Excuse me, sir,
Trooper Dagostino. He drove me here from the Area Operations
Center.”

“All
right, the short version is that you’re going to be my shadow.”

“Short
version, sir?” she asked with the barest hint of a smile. “Is that a height
joke?”

“No,
trooper, if I wanted to make a height joke, I would have referred to you as
my little shadow.” I paused. “They call you Lita, right?”

“Carlita
or Lita,” she said. “I prefer Lita.”

“Okay,
Lita, your orders are simple. From the moment I arrive on site in the
morning to the moment I leave, sometime after dark, you will be right there
with me. If I need to speak to someone, you will find them and bring them to
me. If I have a question about Security Force operations, you will answer
it. If you don’t know the answer, you will get if for me. If it looks like
I’m in danger of losing my life, you will save me.”

I
pointed across the room at the small desk against the wall. “When I am in
the office, you will anticipate what I need to know, as best you can, and
provide it at the appropriate time. Your duty post is that...tiny
desk.”

That
got a smile out of her. Not much of a smile, but it was a start.

“Do
you have any questions?”

“Yes,
sir,” she said. “Why did you request me for this assignment?”

I
didn’t say anything for a second. “That’s really none of your concern,
trooper. If it’s a problem, I can make a call and have you returned to the
operations center. I’m sure somebody else there would like to get out of
the...hole.”

“No,
sir,” she said. “No problem.”

“Good.
I have things to do back at my office before the ambassador arrives tonight
at approximately twenty-two hundred. When Capt. Bristow and Lt. Meyers are
finished with the updated security plan, get yourself a copy and study it.
Carefully. After that, you can grab some chow, hang out with the troops,
whatever you like. Just be here when I get back shortly before
ten.”

I
stood and extended my hand. “Good to have you aboard, trooper.”

She
hesitated for a moment, then took my hand in a firm grip. “Lex Et Ordo,
sir,” she said.

The
motto of the 716
^th
Military Police Battalion. Lex Et Ordo. Latin
for Law and Order. Apparently she hadn’t been totally disinterested during
our walk to General Bain’s office.

“Lex
Et Ordo, Lita,” I said.

Chapter
Nine

Sara
had informed our night clients of the coming delay, and Cynthia has done the
same with the day clients. Captain Bristow had called to say that the new
security plan was finished and had been distributed to his platoon
commanders for implementation. And I’d had time to grab a shower, some
meatloaf at Hanritty’s, and change into one of my new suits. I was ready for
whatever the night brought.

I
had to admit, the suit Bain had provided felt a whole lot better than the
sackcloth suits I usually wear.

I’m
not a clothes horse. For most of my adult life, my working clothing was a
uniform. An army uniform, a police uniform. When I was in plainclothes at
the 83
^rd
Street station, I’d wear whatever was appropriate for
the job I was on. Only when I was off-duty, in the army or the police
department, did I choose my own clothes. Which invariably meant jeans and a
tee-shirt.

After
the war, when Joshua and I started Night and Day Investigations, I knew I’d
have to look businesslike most of the time. Wear a suit. So my suit became
my new uniform. And to make things easy, I just bought a bunch of
off-the-rack black suits. I could mix-and-match if I tore a jacket or
stained a pair of pants.

But
apparently an official representative of the Area Governor’s Office couldn’t
be seen in a cheap black suit when in the presence of the former German
ambassador. So Dr. Heymann would see the new me.

They’d
done a good job on the size and cut of the suit. It was a little long in the
inseam, but still comfortable. I liked it. Hopefully Bain would let me keep
the three suits after the case was over and not put them in storage for the
next time he hired me. They were light-weight summer suits, but I could
always throw a coat over them in the winter.

At
9:30 on the dot, I heard the hall door open and close. A murmur of
conversation. A knock at the office door.