A Dangerous and Cunning Woman

by Ethan Johnson

  No panels appeared, and the doors didn’t open. She pressed her hand flat against the smooth elevator doors out of desperation. The doors beeped and slid open. The elevator cabin was lined with reflective black surfaces and brushed steel bars around the edges just above waist height. She stepped into the elevator cabin and turned to face the doors as they closed. No buttons were on either side of the door.

  She pressed her hand to the wall beside the doors. Nothing happened. She looked up and addressed the security camera. “Room 305, please?” The elevator did not move. She rubbed her forehead and felt panic starting to set in at being enclosed in a small space. She didn’t like reminders of her prison cell, which was positively roomy in comparison.

  Without warning, a plate slid aside and revealed a dull black touch point.

  Diane studied the touch point for a moment, then pressed her right index finger to it. The elevator chirped and started to descend.

  She determined the elevator was taking her lower than the cell block. She was unaware of any sort of construction going on below that point, and even then, the amount of work that had been completed on the cell blocks amazed her when she considered how relatively short it took from the time ground had broken on the new police complex.

  The elevator came to a halt, and the doors slid open. Two men–she assumed they were men–dressed in black body armor met her and gestured for her to step out of the elevator. They scanned her eyes with a cylindrical device, waved a black wand over her, and one of them held something glossy and black up to her mouth. “First and last name only,” he said.

  “Diane Pembrook,” she said, her voice shaky.

  A yellow light flashed on the device. “Inconclusive. One more attempt. First and last name only.”

  Diane took a deep breath and concentrated on delivering a clear voice print. “Diane Pembrook.”

  A green light glowed on the device. The two men nodded sharply to each other. “This way. Do not deviate from the red path.” Diane looked down at a red line shining on the floor beside a blue one. She wondered where that path led. The men escorted her down a series of nondescript hallways to a glossy black door. They nodded to the door and it opened with a mechanical click. Diane was marched into a room with a single metal chair in the center and told to sit down. She obeyed, and they left the room. The door clicked with an air of finality. Diane looked around the empty room and felt another surge of panic coming on at the perception she had been led to yet another isolation cell.

  The lights dimmed, and the wall across from her glowed as an oversized monitor came online. Diane’s photo and identification information were displayed prominently, then shrank, sliding smoothly into the upper left-hand corner of the screen.

  “Mission Briefing Alpha-6-Bravo commencing,” said a pleasant, yet unsettling female electronic voice. “Pembrook, Diane present. This transmission has been coded Clearance X9: Eyes Only for Recipient. Any unauthorized use is punishable by applicable laws.”

  Diane’s eyes were transfixed on the screen as digital messages appeared on the monitor, then vanished or shrank to various corners of the screen. She gasped at the sight of a commercial airliner gliding into a cluster of buildings, then erupting in an enormous ball of flame. The picture froze, then was replaced by a larger one of looters smashing store windows. A news program displayed a dramatic headline: AMERICA UNDER ATTACK. The scenes continued to play as the electronic voice resumed.

  “Arbor Day. It claimed the lives of thousands of innocent Americans and caused billions of dollars in property damage and economic losses. Though relatively mild in terms of physical damage, the harm to America’s standing as a reliable economic powerhouse coupled with strategic losses in law enforcement and other stabilizing institutions has been devastating. The country continues to cope with higher than normal unemployment and fewer tourist and investment dollars.”

  Diane frowned at the montage. She had been in the thick of Arbor Day. She had seen the destruction and looting up close. Not by way of the jet that wiped out most of the Fourth Precinct, but close enough. She wondered why she had to revisit that horrible day in a dark room.

  The voice continued. “As law enforcement regains its footing to return America’s great cities to law and order, a new breed of criminal has arisen. Petty looters have been replaced by a terrorist organization bent on the complete and total destruction of the country. While Arbor Day was believed to be an isolated, yet major incident, covert operatives have determined an ongoing and systematic plot to undermine America’s fragile recovery. This seemingly innocuous building was bombed a month after Arbor Day.”

  A two-story brick building exploded in all directions, injuring motorists and passers-by. Another video clip showed an overhead view of the blast crater and cleanup efforts. “To the casual observer, the building appeared to lack strategic importance. Critical research on deadly diseases was being carried out in this facility, which was kept discreet so as not to alarm the public. Their pioneering work was lost in an instant, leaving America vulnerable to attack from a weaponized biological agent.”

  Diane sucked in her breath as she watched file footage of men in gas masks stacking piles of dead civilians in a desert town that had been struck by a chemical weapon attack.

  “You have been identified as a useful security asset. A target has been selected for elimination.”

  The assortment of video clips and still photos slid aside and was replaced by a grainy photo of a dark-haired man entering a glass doorway. The video monitor displayed an array of photos, along with surveillance footage of the man walking through a nondescript hallway.

  “This is Matthias Booker. Several shipments of drugs, weapons, and money have been traced to his operation from unknown sources, believed to be of foreign origin. You are tasked with locating the target and terminating him with extreme prejudice.”

  Diane leaned forward and studied the photos. She hadn’t seen the man in any of the most wanted lists, but then again, she reasoned, this guy seemed like a much bigger fish than the petty crooks that made the top ten list week after week.

  “Seems easy enough,” she said. “Where is he?”

  The screen went black for a moment, then displayed a series of maps. “The target’s present whereabouts are unknown.” Red circles dotted the map. “These are all locations of confirmed and unconfirmed sightings. Locate the target and terminate.” A static image of the map lingered for a moment before the monitor went black and the lights returned to normal.

  Diane looked around, unsure of what to do next. “I guess that’s it, then?” She stood up uneasily.

  Her chair vanished through a trap door that snapped shut immediately afterward. The walls closed in, forming a tight rectangle. Diane stood in the center of the space and searched for a way out. Her stomach lurched, and gravity seemed to be pulling at her from various angles. She shook her head and cursed herself for letting nerves get the better of her. She straightened up and said, “I’d like to leave now.”

  The wall to her right parted, revealing the ground floor of the Panther Division facility. She quickly stepped out of the cabin and turned in time to see elevator doors close behind her. She scratched her head in bewilderment, then stepped to her left to return to the front desk. She bumped into Gabe and spilled the cup of water he was holding.

  “S-sorry,” she said.

  “It’s alright. I need to talk to you. In private,” he said.

  “Fine,” she said. “But I need some air. I’m feeling a little cooped up.”

  Gabe led her to Briefing Room 2C. After she entered the room, Gabe closed the door behind them and gripped her by the shoulders. He leaned in and kissed her. Diane tensed up, then threw her arms around him as she kissed him back. He pulled away and looked directly into her eyes. “I need you, Diana. Don’t keep pushing me away.”

  “Prove it,” she said.

  He nodded and kissed her again.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Diane pushed away after on
e more kiss. “I’ve got to get back,” she said.

  Gabe sighed and reluctantly let her go. “Yeah,” he said, “we were just making a pit stop ourselves. When can I see you again?”

  Diane felt a shockwave of guilt tear through her as she touched her fingers to her lips. She was committed to Lyssa, who in turn was committed to her. She wondered why she was fooling around with Gabe, of all people. She looked up into his eyes and saw a blend of longing and desperation. Normally, they would cancel out and she wouldn’t have been the least bit interested. But the longing was winning. Unlike Lyssa, he was here, now. And employed.

  “I’ve got to go,” she said, brushing past him. Gabe watched impotently as she left him standing alone.

  Diane hurried back to the front desk after taking a moment to smooth out her uniform and check her hair. She expected Hendricks to be drumming his fingers on one of the countertops impatiently, followed by a crack about being kept waiting while she tended to her “lady business.” To her surprise, he wasn’t there. She asked the sergeant where he went.

  “He’s out with the kid,” Parcells said, taking a long pull of coffee from a stained mug. “Showing him the ropes, breaking him in, that sort of thing.”

  “Hendricks couldn’t wait? He just had to hook up with Goodwin?” Diane felt her cheeks redden as she realized she might not have been talking about Hendricks. Or Goodwin.

  Parcells shrugged. “We all figured you’d be a while. You know, what with being hauled into Kenner’s office. He likes to take his time, if you catch my drift.”

  Another officer looked up from a tablet and sucked on his stylus suggestively. Diane caught their drift. Her guilt morphed into anger at the suggestion she, or Kenner, had done anything improper. “Well, he didn’t. Hendricks could have waited.”

  “Bygones. Besides, the kid needs seasoning. He needs to learn how to shoot and ask questions.”

  The stylus-sucking officer’s mouth rounded into an O and he suppressed a laugh. Diane glowered at him and stormed away. If she wasn’t going back out on patrol, she decided she would knock off early and return to her dorm and think about things. She tasted Gabe on her lips. She wished it was Lyssa instead, and she was here now, making everything right in her world.

  After making the trek to the old schoolhouse, she pushed her dorm room door open and stopped dead in her tracks. Two men were in the room, stacking boxes at Sapphire’s direction onto a four-wheeled cart. “That should be the last of it,” she said.

  Diane shook her head, bewildered. “What’s going on?”

  “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. I thought I could make a clean getaway without bothering you,” Sapphire said.

  “You’re moving out?”

  Sapphire clapped sarcastically. “Hey, Pembrook’s sprouting a brain! Can simple math and crossword puzzles be far behind?”

  “B-but, you said you wouldn’t have enough saved up for at least another four months.”

  “That was three months ago. And the funny thing about money is… okay, there’s nothing funny about money, scratch that. The thing about money is, the more you have, the more you make.”

  “Where are you going?” Diane felt a twinge of envy as the movers rolled the cart from the room.

  “I’ve got a nice place up in Midtown. Nothing crazy, but it’s mine, you know? Not that my parents would approve, but I don’t give a crap what they think. Win-win.”

  “Yeah, that sounds amazing,” Diane said.

  “Oh, it is. Trust me, this is a total hole compared to my new place. I think it’s soundproof. I was there the other night after I signed the lease, and I couldn’t hear a peep out of anyone. I like that feeling. Like you can just shut the world out and do whatever you damn well please, no matter what anyone else thinks. Oh well, maybe if you stop blowing your money on dumb crap you’ll experience it for yourself. I’m not exactly holding my breath, just saying.”

  Diane imagined curling up with Lyssa in her own place, shutting out the world, just her and Gabe, free to enjoy each other without anyone butting in. Lyssa! She was in love with Lyssa, and only Lyssa. Gabe just ambushed her, she thought. Anyone would be confused after that. She hated to see Sapphire go as she enjoyed the company, even if Sapphire seemed to hate every minute of it.

  “I was going to get you a going-away present,” Diane said glumly. “I thought I had a little while to save up.”

  Sapphire waved her off. “I don’t need anything. I’m set. Well, I will be, once my stuff gets dropped off in a few hours. If you want to save up for anything, rent on this place is… aw, what’s the use? You can’t afford it. Well, save up and get some roommates. Either way, a handshake is good enough for me. So long, Pembrook.” She thrust her hand out, and Diane shook it. It seemed strange. Most of the women she knew were huggers.

  Sapphire patted Diane on the shoulder before departing. “Independence. You should try it sometime.”

  “Thanks for everything,” Diane said, fighting back tears.

  “Don’t mention it.” Sapphire paused at the door. “I mean it, don’t mention it. Your vocab is getting better, but you’re not out of the woods yet. Nobody needs to know how far you’ve come. Just keep at it. And keep me out of it, whatever it is. I have enough to deal with.”

  “Bye Sapph.”

  “See ya.” With that, Sapphire was gone. The dorm room was eerily still in her wake.

  Diane took a few steps forward and flopped onto her bed. She unbuttoned her uniform shirt and ran her fingers though her hair. Everything was falling apart. Hendricks was out with Goodwin. Sapphire moved out and wasn’t going to tell her. Lyssa was stuck at home with her parents, at least for now. Now Gabe screwed everything up by kissing her. No, she corrected herself, she kissed him back. She didn’t know what—or who—she wanted.

  She looked past her feet to her desk. Her tablet sat on top of her dictionary. She sat up and snatched the tablet away, then laid back down to catch up on Fortune and Destiny. If her life was going to be like a soap opera, she decided, she might as well check in with the pros.

  Chet Franklin stood at the entrance to an excavated tomb. He carried a wooden torch and a shiny black revolver. Another man joined him, decked out in desert garb. Chet gestured into the mouth of the tomb with his gun. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

  The other man pulled a cloth from his mouth. “I have the highest assurances, Mister Franklin. The Amulet of Inanna lies within, undisturbed for thousands of years. It is unlike anything you can imagine, I can assure you.” His eyes sparkled as he spoke of the amulet.

  Diane lowered her tablet. Something was wrong. Chet Franklin was on one of his stupid treasure hunts, she recalled, but he wasn’t in the desert. He seemed younger. His hair was longer. She shrugged and raised the tablet.

  Chet Franklin nodded and gestured again with his gun. “I don’t know, Sayed, I have a pretty wild imagination. You’d better be right about this.”

  “I swear on my children, Mister Franklin, the amulet shall be yours.”

  “What about Sinclair? That bastard is always one step ahead of me. If he swoops in and snags it, they’re going to kill Amelia. I can’t let that happen.”

  Sayed shook his head vigorously. “Never fear, Mister Franklin. I’ve arranged a clever ruse to throw Sinclair off the scent. At this very moment, he is scrabbling like a dog for one of my old ashtrays.” He elbowed Chet in the ribs playfully. “I got it at the Luxor.”

  Chet smiled and nodded. “Okay, let’s do this. I’ll go first.”

  He raised his torch and entered the tomb. A moment later, a loud crack sounded, and Chet dropped his revolver. He looked up in horror to see a swarthy man in black robes brandishing a bullwhip. A finely dressed man in a straw yellow suit raised his finger to reveal a golden amulet swinging back and forth. “Ah, my dear Chet. You’re just in time to marvel at my latest acquisition: The Amulet of Inanna. Stunning, isn’t it?”

  “Sinclair, you son of a bitch!” Chet lunged forward but was r
epelled by another crack of the whip.

  An incoming chat notice popped up on the screen. It was from Lyssa. Diane felt a thrill and closed the video. She tapped the ANSWER button and Lyssa’s red face filled the screen.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” she said. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I feel like my heart has been torn out.”

  Diane touched her fingers to her lips. Yes, she had kissed Gabe, but it didn’t mean anything, she told herself. Was it so obvious? Had word gotten back to her? Oh God, she thought, she had sent him to her house when she was locked up. Did he go back and tell her what they did? That wasn’t Gabe’s style; at least, she didn’t think it was. She decided to draw Lyssa out before she made any unfortunate assumptions.

  “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

  “It’s so obvious. Everything they’ve been saying is true.”

  Diane gulped and tried to maintain a calm exterior. “Well, you know, people like to run their mouths about all sorts of stuff. What did you hear? Talk to me.”

  Lyssa got choked up and let out a few sobs before she could speak again. “Our stories are over.”

  “They what, now?”

  “Friday was the last new episode. They’ve been running old shows ever since. Today’s was from, like, 10 years ago. I don’t know, maybe a clean break would have been best. Watching this old stuff just pisses me off that we aren’t going to know what happens now.”

  Diane frowned. “Did Chet Franklin save Amelia, at least?”

  Lyssa wiped her eyes again. “Huh? No, that was when Clarissa Van Burton left to star in a crummy movie. They used that storyline to kill her off. I think I have that movie saved somewhere.”

  “So… we won’t know who is messing with Alexa?”