Red Angel (9 page)

"Sit and
give me all the gory details."

I recounted
the incident, trying to skip over some parts, but she insisted on hearing every
detail. Kris returned halfway through the tale, and I had to repeat the story
from the beginning. The telling somehow seemed to make the incident a little
less terrifying. It helped that Alexa and Kris managed to find humor in certain
parts that I had to admit were funny—like when I threw Red into the air.
When I left with Kris, I was feeling much better and had shaken off my
depression.

"Thanks
Kris ... for everything."

"You're
worth it." She smiled.

*
* *

When I
arrived for work the next day, everyone was already there, which was unusual,
and Adrian called for an early conference room meeting. I was surprised to see
Stauffer join us.

"First,
Anna, are you recovered enough to be at work?" Stauffer asked, and I felt
his concern.

"Yes,
sir. My shoulder is a bit stiff, but otherwise I'm all right."

"Good,
but if you feel you need more time off, you're certainly entitled."

"Sir, I'd
like a few days off when my mother is released from the hospital."

"Take as
much time as you need. And you'll need to get clearance from the NIA psychology
department. It's required after a shooting where someone died."

"Sir,
while my mother lay in a pool of her own blood bleeding to death, they had a
laser beam on her head and threatened to kill her if I didn't give them
Red."

"What
did you do?" Wilber asked.

"I gave
him to them, and as they watched him sail through the air toward them, I shot
them. I haven't thought about them once since," I said, and was greeted
with silent nods of understanding.

"I'd
clear you, but I can't, so I'm afraid you'll have to talk to them. Just a
formality, but until they clear you, you can't officially come back to work. Of
course, I'd understand if you talked with your friends." He grinned.
"And I've approved a request to provide you with security. Someone will
contact you at home today. The NIA doesn't like their people getting killed. It
interrupts getting work done." He left the room smiling.

"Would
you mind sharing the story with us?" Adrian asked. "We'd like to know
what happened, and something might help us link those men to the smugglers or
eliminate them as opportunists."

"No, I
don't mind. I had just gotten into bed when ..." I retold the story again
and somehow each time it seemed to make it a little less painful.

"I guess
a poisonous snake flying through the air in your direction would be a bit
distracting." Wilber laughed. "What a dilemma. A poisonous snake
worth more than a hundred thousand credits flying toward you—to shoot or
not to shoot.

"Here,"
Adrian handed me a CPC chip. "This contains all the information we've
discovered about the men that attacked you and your mother. Maybe you can see
some way to connect or eliminate them from the smugglers' organization."

*
* *

When I got
home, two men were waiting in a ground vehicle. I would have panicked if they
hadn't contacted me in the skimmer to let me know they would meet me at the
house.

"Good
evening, Miss Paulus. I'm Special Agent Rhodes and this is Agent Tidwell. I've
been assigned to provide you with personal security. If you don't mind, I'd
like to discuss your schedule and normal routines so I can have someone there
when you are most likely to be vulnerable." Rhodes said. He was several
years older than Tidwell, but they both looked like they could play
professional soccer. And they carried concealed weapons under their jackets.

"Now's
as good a time as any. Come on in and we can talk in comfort." I led the
way to the kitchen where Joetta, Alexa's cook, made some coffee for them and
fetched me a glass of mixed berry juice. "I don’t know if I have a
schedule. I work at the NIA headquarters in Eteos ..." I spent an hour
discussing how I traveled between the office and home, my work, the fact I
lived at home while they tried to established how they could best protect me.
In the end, I had a number and would keep them apprised of my activities and
whereabouts. Someone would always be guarding the house when I was scheduled to
be there. "Mother is planning on doing things to the house to make it more
secure. I'll let you know when I know." They stayed, as they were
expecting workmen to install surveillance equipment around the perimeter of the
house.

After a quiet
dinner alone, I spent the evening examining the chip Adrian had given me. It
took me an hour to get to sleep, as I was aware of every little noise. It
didn't matter that I reminded myself the police and NIA had people guarding the
property.

The next day
workmen knocked on the door at seven hundred hours. The police had verified their
work permit and permission from Magistrate Bellona to be there.

"What
are you planning on doing?" I asked after directing them to one of the
spare bedrooms near Alexa's and my bedrooms.

"Magistrate
Bellona told me to tell you it was a surprise." He smiled and I felt his amusement.
I shrugged, wondering what Alexa was up to. Something to do with security I
guessed, and left them. Each day they arrived at seven and worked into the
evening. The room was being demolished as far as I could determine from the
outside as I was told I wasn't supposed to look. The third day, Stauffer
scheduled me with a Doctor Browder. I arrived fifteen minutes early, glad to
get out of the house with men running in and out and the noise of machinery.
Right on time, his secretary, a middle-aged woman with a pleasant smile and
manner, answered her phone and then looked in my direction.

"Miss
Paulus, Doctor Browder is ready. Go right in." She smiled for a moment
then returned to whatever she had been doing. When I entered, a white-haired
elderly man stood and came walking around his desk to meet me. Although his
round clean-shaven face was smiling, I felt no emotions. I thought that
strange, but then I had never met a psychologist.

"Miss
Paulus, I'm Doctor Browder. Take a seat and make yourself comfortable. Would
you like something to drink?"

"No,
thank you," I said, looking around the room. Except for the chair behind
his desk, there were only two other chairs in the room. They were padded and
looked comfortable and sat facing each other with a small wooden table next to
each. Everything in the room was neutral: the chair a light tan, the walls
white with a faint blue tint, the pictures on the wall photos of forests,
rivers, and scenic landscape. I took the seat closest to me and sat.

"From
the NIA report I received, you were involved in a shooting, and that’s the
reason you're here. How have you been sleeping?"

"I've
had some trouble getting to sleep at night. The house feels very lonely without
mother home, and I guess I'm still a bit nervous and listening for
noises."

"That's
understandable. What about shooting another human being?" He asked,
sitting back in his chair.

"What
about it?" I asked, not sure what he wanted.

"How do
you feel about killing someone?"

"I hadn't
thought about it. They were trying to kill my mother and me, and almost
succeeded. I had no choice." And I would do it again, I almost said but
decided that wouldn't be wise. There was something about the doctor's lack of
emotions.

"You’re
repressing those painful emotions, but then that's why you're here." He
smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. He felt bored.

"No,
Doctor Browder, I'm here because of some department rule. Does everyone that
kills someone in self-defense or the line of duty have to see a psychologist?"

"Of
course, Anna. You are not being singled out—"

"Then
you interview the crews of navy personnel who are involved in a space battle?

"Of
course not—"

"But you
just said everyone that kills someone. Believe me, a missile into a cruiser
kills lots of people. So aren't they affected by the people they kill?"

"That's
different. You can't see the people dying. You saw the men you shot."

"So, if
you kill a hundred people with a missile, that shouldn't bother you, but if you
kill one man who's trying to kill you and you can see him, that's
different?" His logic failed me. Suddenly, I felt his anger, although the
smile remained.

"We will
discuss this over the months. You have to come to realize the trauma you
suffered killing those men. Today you're suppressing those feelings, which is
natural."

"Doctor
Browder, this is our last meeting. Those men were evil, and I'm not sorry I
shot them. You are not going to convince me I'm supposed to be sorry for
killing them no matter how many sessions we have, so there is no point in
having any further meetings."

He smiled,
but I felt the hate toward me. "Then you won't get permission to return to
work."

"Then
I'll go work someplace where the rules make sense and their doctors don't hide
their true feelings behind a smile." I wouldn't admit it to him, but I
would be sorry leaving the NIA. I liked the people and the work.

*
* *

The next day
at his request, I reported to Stauffer’s office and was sent to see Rear
Admiral Rawls, Director of NIA operations on Oxax. When I entered her office,
Stauffer was already there. He looked tired.

"Admiral
Rawls, you asked to see me?" I said, standing at attention, although it
wasn't required as I was a civilian. It was a habit I had acquired at the
academy.

"Yes,
Anna. Please sit." I felt her concern, which I assumed was because of my
confrontation with Doctor Browder and refusal to follow the rules. Well, I had
made my decision and would have to live with it. "You have upset our
Doctor Browder. He believes you have suppressed emotions and are unfit for
duty."

"Yes,
ma'am. We didn't see eye-to-eye on the rules."

"Rules?"
she asked and leaned forward slightly.

"Yes,
ma'am." I went on to explain my cruiser example. She sat back and laughed.

"Yes, I
can see why you upset him. According to the report, you shot two men. That
doesn't bother you a bit?"

"Ma'am,
they shot my mother three times, and while she lay bleeding to death on the
floor, they pointed a laser at her head and threatened to shoot her again unless
I gave them what they wanted. So no, I don't regret killing them and would do
it again in a heartbeat. Ironically, if they had offered to save my mother for
Red, I'd have given him to them."

"Even
though it would have meant your death?"

"Yes.
Any day of any week."

"Doctor
Browder doesn't understand, but I do, Anna." She picked up a stylus and
wrote something on her tablet. "Stauffer, Miss Paulus is cleared for
work." Then she turned back to me. "I'm curious. What did you do when
they demanded your red-headed krait or they'd shoot your mother?"

"I gave
Red to them ..." I went on to explain what happened. She was smiling when
she dismissed us.

Four days
later, I picked up Alexa from the hospital. She had recovered most of her color
and appeared to be moving well with only minor discomfort. It felt wonderful
having her home again.

"All
right, Mother. What have you been having done to the guest bedroom?" I
asked when we arrived home.

"Come,"
she said, and led me up the stairs to the guest bedroom and opened the door.
What do you think?" I surveyed the room, trying to remember what it had
looked like. I'd only been in it once or twice to fetch something.

"It's
smaller than I remember, and I thought it had a bathroom attached, and the
bookcase is new." I saw nothing worth all the time the workmen had spent
working in there. Alexa walked over to the bookcase and studied the floor for
several minutes, then kicked the bookcase. When she did, a panel opened like a
window. She waved for me to enter. Inside was a small room with steel walls and
an electronics suite.

"It's
called a panic room. The walls are metal and able to sustain a small rocket, it
can only be locked and opened from the inside, and we have electronics to
communicate with the outside world and to see what is happening via the
security cameras. I decided you and I’d had enough of hospitals and next time
we would just hide until the cavalry arrived."

"I like
that idea. It will avoid me having to see Doctor Browder again," I
quipped.

"I
talked with Admiral Rawls yesterday. She liked you. Said she had reservations
about Stauffer hiring someone so young for such an important project and was
considering firing you after she received Browder's report. But after talking
with you, she agrees with you about Browder and thinks Stauffer was smart to
hire you." She took out her tablet and showed me how I could tap into the
video cameras and how to alert police and NIA security. "I've also had the
doors and locks reinforced and connected to the police and NIA security. Feel
better?"

"Yes,
much." I gave her a tight hug. I had missed her more than I realized.

*
* *

I went in to
work the next day. Around nine, Kris and Wilber showed, and at ten we gathered
in the conference room for our daily required meeting.

"It's
been an exciting couple of weeks following your adventures," Wilber said
as I sat. "I particularly liked your shootout with Doctor Browder. Always
thought that requirement was ridiculous. Oh, it helps some people. But in most
cases it’s you or them, and after it's over, you aren't considering trading
places."

"Hopefully,
the excitement is over," Adrian said. "Anyone have anything they want
to share?"

"I think
we should concentrate on
squeaky clean
merchants," I said. I had been reviewing everything the team had collected
over the past month and that seemed to be the most notable observation.

"I
agree," Adrian said after a long silence. The Wheeler's crew didn't have
one member who had been in trouble with the law. In fact, that was their lawyer’s
main defense, even after we found the contraband.

"That's
true. I noticed that the few times a crew member got in trouble over the years,
they were immediately dismissed. And they were overly cooperative during all
their inspections by customs," Wilber said. "How many merchants have
crews with no records or get favorable comments from the inspection team?"

"That's
a big task since there must be hundreds of merchants, not counting the ones
coming from the Peeps and Freebees," Kris said, using the common street
names for the PRS and FPU.

"The
Wheeler was an Alliance registered merchant, so maybe we should start with them,"
Adrian said, looking at his tablet.

"But the
contraband is primarily from the Peeps and Freebees," Wilber said,
frowning.

"Maybe
that says something about the way they operate and the reason it's been so
difficult to stop them," Adrian said. "Let's start there. We can get
a list and divide it up among us. I'll see about getting the list."

Kris had been
right when she identified Adrian's role as leader, and from the look of things,
no one else wanted the role—it was a lot of work. I couldn't stop
thinking about the missile. When the meeting ended, I called Chief Hartley and
made an appointment for lunch.

I met him
outside the base, and we went to a small café several kilometers away so as to
avoid meeting anyone he knew.

"My
treat, Chief," I said as we were seated. The chief had been silent except
for recommending the restaurant and giving me directions to get there.
"Your payment is to answer a few questions for me."

"Yes,
ma'am," he said, eyeing me cautiously. He was a typical chief: a serious
no-nonsense person who knew his job and was inquisitive. He looked old enough
to be my father. His sandy hair was cropped short in a crew cut, and he had a
rugged square face with penetrating eyes.

"Anna,
please. I'm a member of the team investigating the Wheeler, but I'm not an
officer." I stopped when the waitress appeared, and we ordered the house
specialty: shredded meat in a spicy sauce on a bun with potato chips. He
ordered an Oxax beer and I ordered a mixed berry juice. It flashed through my
mind, that my drink choice emphasized my young age, but I was who I was and
shrugged it off.

"What
would you like to know, Anna?" he said after taking a drink of his beer.

"That
missile we had you take apart. Could it be launched and easily recovered by
another ship?" The thought had been nagging at me for the past couple of
days. Normally, you didn't expect to retrieve missiles, but what if you could?

"Interesting
question. You shoot it off and someone else retrieves it and its
contents." He remained quiet for a while, sipping at his beer. "I can
think of several ways of doing it, but I'd have to open up that missile in
order to tell you whether that one could be easily recovered. Without some kind
of homing device or beacon, it would be very difficult to find a missile
hurtling through space. And when it ran out of fuel, impossible."

"Thank
you, Chief. For now, we don't want you going anywhere near that missile, as it
could alert friends of the smugglers that we are aware of their innovative
storage container. But at some point I'd like you to dismantle it for me."

"Sounds
like fun. You've aroused my curiosity now. That would certainly be a clever way
of handing off contraband with little risk." He smiled. We spent the rest
of the meal sharing stories. He talked a little about his career and a few
incidents with dismantling explosives, and I in turn talked about the academy.
I dropped him back at the base before returning to headquarters. Later that
afternoon, Adrian handed each of us a chip with our list of merchants to check
out. My list had fifty-one, so I assumed there were around two hundred Alliance-registered
merchants. I took out my tablet, linked to the NIA system, and began my search.

*
* *

It took three
weeks for us to research the two hundred and five merchants Adrian had found.
We met the next day in the conference room. Adrian was first to speak.

"I found
only two merchants that met our main search parameter, that is having
squeaky clean
crews."

"I found
only one," Kris said.

Wilber leaned
forward. "Three."

"Two,"
I put in.

"That's
eight eligible candidates for Smuggler of the Year." Wilber laughed.
"What now?" he asked, his question obviously directed to Adrian.

"We need
to find out their itineraries, and then one of us needs to be there when each customs
inspection is performed. We need to continue to be careful not to alert anyone
of our discovery on the Wheeler. That may have been the unique brainchild of
the crew, but it may also be the organization's current modus operandi. If it
is, we could seriously impact their smuggling operation in the Alliance. At
tomorrow's meeting, each of you needs to have the next ten-day itinerary for
the merchants you identified."

*
* *

When we met the
next day, on the one hand I could feel the excitement in the room. We were
getting close to catching those merchants working with the smugglers. On the
other hand, I had mixed emotions about traveling on my own.

"I'll
start," Adrian said. "The Windjammer will visit Stone Ring, and the Dreamer,
Eastar.

'The Star
Trader will also stop at Eastar," Kris said.

"Interesting,"
Wilber said. "The Dealmaker will also stop at Stone Ring, but the Wanderer's
next stop is Safe Harbor, and Storm Runner, Truth Star.

"The
Spinner’s next stop is Amend, and the Trail Blazer’s, Zaspa," I said.

"If
there were six of us, this would work," Adrian said after reviewing the
data. "Let’s see where the Wanderer, Storm Runner, Spinner, and Trail
Blazer will be over the subsequent two weeks."

After Wilber
and I reviewed their schedules, we found the Wanderer's next stop was Zaspa,
Storm Runner's Zaspa, Spinner's Zaspa, and Trail Blazer's Eastar.

"That's
perfect. What if we split into two teams? One team to Eastar and one to Stone Ring.
The Stone Ring team can then go to Zaspa when they finish, because it's close
to Stone Ring, while the Eastar team waits for the Trail Blazer to arrive. Any
questions?"

"Why
don't Anna and I go to Stone Ring?" Kris said. "We're both women, so
the accommodations will be easier, and I can stay close to her."

I nodded.
That was a relief. I wanted to go but would not have felt as comfortable teamed
with Adrian or Wilber, although I liked both of them. Somehow I had grown
closer to Kris over the months.

"Good,
I'll make the arrangements with Stauffer. Be ready to leave on a moment’s
notice. We don't have a lot of wiggle room here." Adrian collected his
tablet and headed for Stauffer's office.

"I guess
that means the meeting's over." Wilber laughed. "Anna, you have to
show Adrian and me what you did to make that missile appear. Better yet, send
us something visual we can take with us."

"It's
simple. I'll send it to you by tonight."

"Me too,
Anna," Kris said. "So I can pretend I know what I'm talking about. I
didn't go to the academy or train to be on the Bridge, so I don't know much
about how the panels work."

Since it was
a bit early to go home, I spent the time making an animated video of a typical
weapons panel, showing how to put it in simulation mode and how the active
light would come on if it reacted the same as on the Wheeler. Then I sent it to
everyone. I was getting ready to leave when Stauffer appeared.

"A
moment, Anna. Are you comfortable going on this mission?" he asked while
sitting down beside me. He looked and felt concerned.

"I'm a
bit nervous, but if I'm going to be part of the team, I have to contribute like
everyone else. Besides, I know the Bridge panels and functions and might see
something Kris wouldn't. She'll take good care of me, sir," I said,
knowing she would. Lately, she had felt like a big sister—family.

"All
right. I just wanted to make sure you weren't being pressured into going. If
you would prefer to stay on Oxax, I'd understand."

I knew he
meant it. He had taken me under his wing more than a year ago, and I was
grateful.

"By the
way, Admiral Rawls found you refreshingly honest and insightful. You are no
longer on probation. Congratulations." He handed me a badge and walked
off. I stared at it for a long time. It was beautiful: a gold metal in the
shape of a shield surrounded by oak leaves. In the center of the badge was a
balance scale with a Trident in the middle. On top were two scrolls with
Naval
and
Intelligence,
and underneath, two with
Agent
and
A. Paulus
. In
addition, there was a plastic badge with the Navy Insignia, NIA, in large bold
letters, and my picture. It took me more than an hour sitting in my skimmer to
calm myself enough to be able to fly home reasonably safely. I clipped my badge
to my suit jacket lapel and clipped my ID to my breast pocket, grabbed a juice
drink, and sat waiting for Alexa to arrive home. When I heard her car in the
driveway, I walked to the door and stood waiting. She entered, stopped, and
stood looking me over.

"I
didn't do it, Agent Paulus." She laughed and threw her arms around me.
"Congratulations, Daughter."

"And I'm
off to Stone Ring on assignment ... with Lieutenant Sinclair," I added
quickly.

 
She sobered. "Like any mother, I'd
like to lock you up someplace safe, but I know I can't. It will help if you
remember to stay in touch with me."

"Every
day. I'm excited and terrified but know I either have to hide forever or live
my life and take what comes. In reality, I feel I'm living on borrowed time. I
should have died in the snow back when I was four. If it weren't for Red I
would have. And no one can explain why he showed up. They aren't usually active
in the snow, since they are cold-blooded, and there are no other instances of
one seeking out a Coaca Virus victim."