"Give me some latitude, here, Linda."
She subsided after a tense moment. The first log entry stated Wallace's misgivings about my entering the building without proper weapons or equipment according to recognized standards.
"Refused to carry comm unit. No flash grenades, no rifle, no vest, no backup personnel, no this, no that, etc..."
It also mentioned Wallace's belief that Linda shouldn't have allowed me to go in alone. That earned him a withering look from Linda and an incredulous one from me.
I asked Linda, “Did you tell him about my four and five suits, my comm and field implants, and my gun and stunner?"
"I did."
"Odd that there's no mention of them in the log."
"Yes,” she said flatly. “It is, isn't it?"
Chapter Forty-Three
Wallace began a protest. Linda almost whispered, "Quiet!" in a soft, sharp tone that I haven't heard her use very often. Wallace subsided with a startled look.
Most of the other log entries had to do with my progress through the building, noting times and activities, as well as who had been sent to retrieve my victims. One was a comment on my comments, many of which Wallace seemed to have regarded as frivolous.
My little speech was in there, too, and then came Wallace's words concerning the fact that I'd slept through the rest of the evening's events. Then I came to a specific notation.
"Recommend psychological evaluation..."
I looked at Wallace as I said, “No, you don't recommend a damned thing, Wallace. Every move and every word of all personnel on this mission was recorded. Your recommendations are arguably as frivolous as my comments. Steph, wipe that last bit of crap, please."
As Linda and Wallace stared at me, Steph said, “Yes, Ed."
The offending lines disappeared.
"Thank you, Steph. Would you double check to see if anything like that appears elsewhere? If so, I'd like a look before we delete anything else."
"Will do, Ed."
Wallace responded with a degree of outrage.
"That log was an official document!"
I gave him a flat gaze and said, “It still is, but 'was' is the right word for that last line, Cap. You don't really know shit about me, but you can ignore Linda's opinions of me and you're willing to set me up like that anyway. That amazes me a little, I think, and I don't like it one damned bit. Who the fuck are you to judge me? What do you get out of it?"
Wallace stood and loomed over us as he said, “I think you're a goddamned loose cannon, mister. A misfit loner who can't work worth a damn with others."
"So what? I'm not on any of your teams, am I? And maybe that's why Linda uses me for some things, Wallace. Did that ever occur to you? Why risk more than one man at a time unnecessarily? That may even be why she won't lend me out, too. She knows that I don't play well with others. What do you think would happen if she lent me to some by-the-book stiff like you?"
Linda stood up and said, “Enough. Steph, put a copy of that revised log in my datapad, please. Wallace, you didn't clear your personal log entries with me on one of my missions. Boyfriend or not, if you pull anything like that again, you'll be history at 3rd World."
Whups. She called him ‘Wallace', not ‘Emory'. Bad news for the deck hand.
Wallace said, “As second in command, I didn't think I needed permission to make log entries during a mission."
"When they're valid, factual entries, no. When they're opinions, you'll check with me first. No exceptions. If you can't accept that, there won't be any more joint operations between our departments. I'll just pull the personnel I need and they'll be directly under my command."
Wallace's shocked stare at Linda became a glare at me.
In an ominous tone, he said, “I warned you not to come between us, mister."
"You shouldn't have tried to set me up for a fall,” I answered. “Mister."
Linda said, “And I said, enough, dammit. Wallace, sit down. Both of you shut up and finish your beers. It's my turn to hold the floor."
She stood there glaring until Wallace sat down, then she took a sip of her beer and said, “I think it's just too damned sweet of you boys to butt heads over me, but that's not how we do things. Specifically, that's not how I allow things to be done. I thought that bringing you two together might let you find some way to cooperate. Since that isn't the case, I'll have to reconsider some matters."
Linda finished her beer and handed me the bottle.
"I'm leaving, now,” she said. “Lights out in half an hour. If you two have anything else to discuss, keep the noise down. Others will be trying to sleep.” With that, she turned and stepped off the deck to the concrete floor, then walked a few paces away. She stopped, returned to the flitter, and said, “Damn. My manners are slipping. Thank you for the coin, Ed. Good night, Stephie.” She then turned and walked away again.
As we watched her go, Wallace asked, “When and where, Ed? How about right here and right now?"
I shook my head. “Steph won't allow it. She'll stun us both."
He glanced at Steph and said, “Bullshit. Linda said you own this flitter. Is that right?"
"Well, yes, but she's..."
"Then like I said, bullshit. That's a computer image and not a goddamned thing more. Cut the crap and let's wrap this thing up if you have the balls for it."
I looked at Steph and asked, “Could you go hang out with Elkor for a little while, Steph? Maybe ten minutes or so?"
"My core is in this flitter, Ed. I can't avoid being here. I could disappear, if you'd like."
"Nah. No point."
Wallace snorted and said, “Yeah, right. Thought so."
"Hey, Wallace,” I said, “Why don't we have it out there in the hangar? Is it maybe because Linda said to keep the noise down and she'll bust you back to DC if we don't? Seems to me you have a similar problem, sailor boy."
After a moment, he grudgingly said, “Yeah, but she'd bust you, too. I don't know how, but she would."
I nodded. “Yup. She'd find a way. Answer me a question, Wallace."
"That depends."
"Why'd you do it? I thought we had a deal. You were supposed to get a wife and I was supposed to keep an old friend."
He shook his head and said, “Not after I saw you work. I meant what I said. You're a liability to any group."
"Fuck a group. Now you know that I work alone, so what's your real reason?"
"That is the reason, damn it. You weren't alone. There were guys on the roof and in the hallways, cleaning up after you. You put them at risk..."
"Crap, Wallace. I put nobody at risk, and you know it. Stop farting around and get down to it. It's about Linda and not a damned thing else. You just want me gone, right?"
He swigged his beer and let his glare settle on me again.
"Yeah. It's about Linda and I just want you gone."
The overhead lights in the hangar flickered once, then again, to signal to everyone in the building that they'd be turned off in the very near future.
I finished my beer and said, “Well, sorry ‘bout that, sailor. I'm not going to abandon her just ‘cause you don't like having me around, so you can take your beer and hit the road. This meeting's over."
He drained his beer, then tossed me the bottle as he said, “I'll be seeing you around, sport. Count on it."
He then hopped off the flitter and marched away toward the row of bunks. Linda had been on her way to the hangar's shower. She stopped and watched Wallace head for his bunk, then looked in my direction.
I realized that the canopy was still in opaque mode and stood up to extend my hand through and above it to give her a little wave. She nodded and turned to continue her journey to the showers.
Steph said, “I could have cleared the canopy, Ed."
"I'm tall enough. No need. Guess I'll wait ‘till the others are through and grab a shower myself."
"There are three shower bays, Ed. You needn't wait."
"No hurry. I'll be up most of
the night, anyway, because of those naps. Do you think they'll keep us in this hanger long?"
"No,” she said, putting a screen up that contained two pad memos from 3rd World brass. “These instructions indicate that everyone will be examined and released by tomorrow afternoon. Nobody knowledgeable has any concerns about the possibility of contagion."
"Cool. Has Linda seen these?"
"Unlikely. They were issued only eleven minutes ago. Copies were sent to her and several others within 3rd World and the US government."
I grinned and said, “Wow. You really stay on top of things, don't you?"
Steph smiled. “I make an effort."
We talked for a few more minutes, during which time Linda returned to her bunk and Wallace headed for the showers. I called Linda on my comm watch.
"Hey, lady, want some news?"
"If you're going to tell me that you don't think much of Emory, that isn't news."
"Nope. Sure isn't. But I called to say that I think they're going to spring us out of here tomorrow instead of holding us all three days."
"You've been snooping around?"
"Me? Never. Check your datapad, though. You should have something about it by now."
"Will do. Anything else?"
"Well, how about ‘goodnight'?"
"Good enough. Goodnight, Ed."
I watched her pick up her datapad and nod slightly as she read, then put it down. She gave me a little wave and got into her bunk just as the lights were turned off and the hangar was illuminated only by the subdued lights in the corners and overhead.
One man sat reading a book at the desk in the hangar's office. In the Army, we'd called him the CQ, or charge of quarters. During the night, others would be wakened every four hours for their shifts on CQ duty. Every half hour or so, the CQ would take a stroll around the hangar with a flashlight.
I wondered why anyone had CQ duty. It was already after three in the morning, nobody in the hangar was a trainee, and with three flitters in the hangar and half a dozen cameras watching us there was no chance of fire. They'd detect a fire instantly and simply smother it with fields.
Whatever. I hopped off the flitter to head for the showers and then hopped back up to get my coffee mug so I could rinse it. My thermos was still half full, but by morning the coffee it held would be pretty terrible, so I took the thermos, too.
Grabbing a towel and one of the little bars of soap at the tables, I headed into the shower room. Wallace had showered and dressed and was shaving at one of the four sinks as I entered. He gave me a glancing glare, then turned his attention back to his own face as I set my towel on the counter.
"No razor?” he asked, looking at his watch. “It's damned near time to get up, anyway. Why make another trip?"
"I won't. I brought my own stuff,” I said, reaching over my head for my briefcase.
When my hand found the case's handle it became visible. Wallace's eyes bugged out a bit. I pulled the case down, opened it, and took out my razor, toothbrush, and a few other items, then closed the case and simply let go of it. It instantly disappeared and rose to its usual place just above my head.
Wallace's expression hadn't changed by the time I'd rinsed my toothbrush and loaded it with paste. He rather belatedly noticed that muck from his razor was dribbling down his arm and turned to rinse it off, then he went back to shaving.
"Well, Ed, it looks as if there's just no damned end to your surprises, doesn't it? First I find out that Linda has this old boyfriend and she wants to send him into that warehouse alone. Then she says you own a flitter. The first personal flit ever made, in fact. Then she all but let you take over the mission and you up and disappeared before you went into that warehouse. Next thing I know, you're talking to us, but I know damned well that you didn't sign out a comm unit. Then you do field tricks and burn a hole in a coin."
I spat out toothpaste, rinsed, and said, “Good. You were paying attention, after all. What's your point, Wallace?"
He rinsed his razor, then seemed to realize it was a disposable and disgustedly tossed it in the trash as he reached for his towel.
"My point?” he asked. “Oh, I don't know. Maybe I don't have one. Or maybe I think that you're just too goddamned strange to trust."
I prepped my face for shaving and said, “Wallace, I could tell you to fuck off, but that would be impolite.” I turned to look at him and added, “If my record and things you've seen with your own eyes don't mean anything to you, you don't qualify to pass judgment on me. Or maybe it's that all those things do mean something to you. Maybe you see me as competition beyond Linda? Job competition of some sort?"
"Crap,” he said. “Nobody's got anything to worry about on that score. You like things as they are and you aren't leadership material by anyone's standards."
"That's right,” I said. “I've never wanted that role. When it fell on me, I got things done and got clear of the heavy robes of office as quickly as possible. I like being on tap, Wallace. I like Linda's odd jobs and the paid off-time between them. Being semi-retired suits me just fine. Can you somehow understand that?"
He grinned nastily at me.
"Sure. I've seen your type way too often during my career. You lean real hard on a specialty or two and slack off at every opportunity. Everybody else does the scut work and you show up long enough to make a touchdown once in a while."
It occurred to me that he wasn't altogether wrong about that, but I couldn't really see a problem with that setup.
"Whatever,” I said. “We aren't going to get along, so why don't we just keep away from each other until one of us dies or transfers or something?"
Wallace grabbed his shirt off the wall hook by the mirror and said, “That'll be you, Ed. Believe it. Prepare for it.” He turned and headed for the door.
I grinned as I said, “No sweat, Wallace."
He gave me a last glaring look as he left the room.
Chapter Forty-Four
Keying my implant, I asked, “Steph, you heard that?"
"Yes, Ed."
"How would you feel about monitoring all of his communications for a while?"
"Very uncomfortable, Ed. That's illegal."
"Okay, then, how would you feel if he weaseled up some way to create a lot of trouble for us that had us justifying our every word and move? I expect him to do his best to be rid of us, Steph."
"I concur that he seemed to be inferring that he might make such an effort, but I'd hesitate to use illegal methods to counter..."
"I wouldn't, Steph. Nobody gets to be a Navy Captain without knowing how to sling mud and cover his ass. He probably wouldn't lie outright, but he'd know how to infer like a son of a bitch, and he's too well-connected in the brass circles. I want to know if he says anything to anyone about either of us. I want to know what he said and who heard him say it. Can you arrange that?"
"As I said, Ed, that sort of surveillance is illegal, so I am unable to comply, but the knowledge of how to arrange such surveillances through a datapad is not illegal. Had I any suspicions that you might use your pad in that way, I would have to refuse to assist you, which would leave you dependent on the rather extensive help files that came with your datapad, particularly those concerning the establishment of monitoring networks such as are used by security systems."
In other words, she'd politely told me to ‘Read The Fucking Manual', just as I'd told so many others concerning computers and software.
"Uh, huh. Well, gee, Steph, I think I should learn as much as possible about the various uses for my datapad, don't you? Do you suppose you could find the time to walk me through setting up a few practice networks?"
"Yes. I think I can find time to assist you, Ed. Once you've mastered networking, it might be wise to specifically instruct Elkor and me not to monitor your pad activities."
"Um. Yes, it might. Good thinking, miLady, and thank you."
"You're welcome."
I finished shaving and showered, then pulled the briefcase down again to get
my clean pants and shirt. One of the other team people entered the room as I was changing clothes.
I kept a hand on my briefcase as I walked out of the shower stall to find Angela Horn leaning over a sink. She rinsed her face and dried with the towel that Wallace had left by the sink, then swept her shoulder-length auburn hair back from her face and stood straight. She noticed me when I set my old clothes on a sink and looked at me in one of the mirrors.
"Hi,” she said. “Um ... Why were you in the shower stall with your clothes on?"
"Hi, back at you,” I said. “They weren't on me when I showered. I had a change of clothes in my briefcase."
She nodded, then turned to head for a toilet stall. I gathered my razor and toothbrush and put them in my briefcase, then transferred the pocket stuff from my other clothes. Once I'd put the other clothes in the case and let the case go, I headed for the door. As I turned at the doorway, I saw Angela looking at me with a puzzled expression. Had she seen my briefcase disappear?
"Don't forget your briefcase,” she said.
"I haven't,” I said.
Her puzzlement deepened and became tinged with concern.
"Then where is it?” she asked. “Are you sure you're all right? We all went through a lot this evening..."
I reached up and grabbed the case without pulling it down. Her eyes followed my hand upward, then became rather wide as the case manifested itself.
"I'm fine, Angela,” I said. “And I really do have my case. Thanks, anyway."
She was still staring as I left the bathroom. It occurred to me that the team people probably didn't know much about me, since we'd never worked together before the warehouse incident. Maybe it would be a good idea to familiarize one of them a little with Steph and me. I waited by the tables, munching on some of the salad goodies.
When she came out of the bathroom, she spotted me by the tables and turned slightly to approach me. I fielded a bag of potato chips into the air between us.
"Care for a snack, Angela?"
She stared at the bag for a moment, then edged her way around it and came to stand a couple of feet from me, gazing hard at me. Six feet tall. Mid-twenties. Brown eyes. Slender, but to be on a mission team, she had to be solid as a rock.
Book 3: 3rd World Products, Inc Page 32