by C. R. Daems
When I finished reviewing all the files, I had the distinct impression that WEP was made up of some very clever people. Although the individual events seemed unrelated to the manifesto the timing was meant to tie the murders to the manifesto. I felt they were playing a game of some kind. But what?
Red agreed. He had been in my hair with his head on my forehead as I read through the files—a position I had long ago concluded meant he was interested. A psychologist could have written several books on me if I had been willing to confide my thoughts about Red. He would have thought me delusional and come up with all sorts of explanations—my symbiotic relationship, coincidence, hallucinations due to Red’s poison, my fear of dying, Red’s gift of life, or my multiple encounters with assassins and thieves, or…”
But there were too many coincidences. Red found me in the snow. Snakes hibernate in the winter and don’t go wandering in the snow looking for food. If he were looking for someone with the Coaca Virus for some odd reason why didn’t he stay with the man who stole him from me? He had killed that man. Snakes don’t warn you when trouble is present. Red had done that too many times for it to be my imagination. Venomous snakes don’t distinguish friend from foe. He’d let Sinclair handle him when I gave him to her and ignored Alexa no matter how she touched or hugged me. And although he didn’t talk I knew when he’d found the answer to a problem I was working on when I couldn’t. I wouldn’t be surprised if someday he morphed into something and finally told me who or what he really was, because he acted like no other snake or pet or animal. And now he was agreeing with me: the terrorists weren’t what they seemed.
CHAPTER SIX
Lots to Learn
“Good morning, Anna,” Martha said, handing me a hot cup of my usual coffee-milk concoction as I entered my office. Seth was already there sitting at the small table with a cup of coffee. He rose when I entered. I waved him to sit as I joined him and Martha followed, still speaking. “I have you set up to see Major Becker today and Major Schwartz tomorrow. That’s two senior personnel you haven’t yet had a chance to visit.”
“Thank you, Martha. Visiting each department has helped me understand the organization better, a chance to talk with my team, and for them to get to know me,” I said and took a sip of my coffee.
“What did you think about the murders?” Seth asked. I noticed he automatically assumed I had read the files and had an opinion.
“I think they were all committed by WEP, but I’m not buying the manifesto,” I said.
Seth gave me a wide-eyed look of surprise. “Why not?” he asked.
“Doesn’t feel right, Seth. Why no reference to the manifesto after the killings? Why aren’t they taking credit?”
“They are trying be cautious in case they are caught or…maybe they didn’t do all the murders.”
“Possible, but I don’t think so. They want us to focus on the manifesto and the murders, to distract us.”
* * *
“Well, Director, what would you like to see?” Major Becker asked after he fetched me a cup of coffee and we had settled down in his office.
“Start wherever you feel best. I’m just looking to get a general understanding of each of my senior personnel’s responsibilities. It will help me understand what you’re telling me.” I grinned.
He grinned back. “Administration comprises all those functions that nobody wants to be bothered with but are necessary for a smooth-running operation. Soap and toilet paper in the restrooms, janitorial supplies, uniforms, training equipment, weapons, electronic equipment as well as vehicle maintenance and rentals. We do all the purchasing for the organization. It’s a bit unusual, put we also handle the payroll and personal expenses,” he said.
“Do we have janitorial and maintenance personnel on staff?”
“No. We contract all that type of work to private contractors. Building security is responsible for monitoring the work inside the building.”
“I don’t envy you, Thomas. That’s a lot of responsibility.”
“Think you could put in a good word with my boss?” He laughed, then proceeded to walk me around his domain, introducing me to the people in each section, and letting them give me more details. By the time I left late that afternoon, I agreed with Becker. We had his group to thank for the smooth running of the Committee’s organization.
After my tour, I made my way to the firing range. There I spent an hour practicing with the Sig Sauer, Laser, and my in-holster emergency technique.
* * *
The next day Martha had scheduled me with Major Glen Schwartz, the head of the Personnel section, in the morning and to watch a training class in the afternoon.
“Good morning, Director,” Glen said as I was ushered into his office and served coffee. Since I was always served coffee that was half milk, I knew the rumor network was working, and I wondered what other idiosyncrasies of the new director were circulating. “What would you like to know?”
“Good morning, Glen. An overview of your responsibilities and a tour. I’m not trying to do your job, just to understand what each department does. I’m hoping that will help me when you are pressing me for a decision.” I grinned, and he nodded.
“Usually our directors don’t bother trying to understand. They think they have all the answers because they are the directors.”
“I’d prefer you have the answer and that I can understand your logic,” I said.
He laughed. “Me too.” He paused before continuing. “I’m responsible for screening the applications for our working positions. Some we get from inquiries, some through advertising, and others through consulting firms. Everyone fills out a questionnaire which is reviewed. Those we like we investigate and if we like the results, we hire them or put them on a waiting list. If we want them for c-agents, they are put through a one-month training course. If they pass we offer them a position. We maintain their personnel file, which includes their background checks, work history, personal information, awards, promotions, pay, et cetera.” He looked to me. When I nodded, he continued. “I assume Seth has given you the database access information.” Again, he waited for my nod.
“Do you have my records and Red’s?” I asked. He nodded hesitantly. “Good. Make sure you have my mother, Appeals Court Justice Bellona, and Doctor Renata’s contact information.”
Glen then introduced me to his staff and showed me around his department. We finished in time for lunch and Craig’s self-defense course. I spent the next two hours watching men who looked very fit and competent engage opponents with clubs, knives, kicks, and punches.
When he had the men practicing a knife technique, Craig came over to where I was sitting. “Have you had self-defense training?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Don’t need it,” I said. “I carry a weapon at all times.”
“But what if you’re attacked by surprise and can’t reach your weapon or you lose it?” He sounded amused. I reached into my blouse and pulled out Red.
“Red gets very upset if someone attacks his meal ticket.” I smiled remembering the times he had defended me when I was attacked.
“What if Red gets killed?”
“I’d die within a few days so it wouldn’t matter,” I said. “Besides, I have large, muscular c-agents trained by Major Olson as constant companions.” My smile faded. “Craig, you need to include in your training what not to do if they encounter a person infected with the Coaca Virus. They will need to know what it looks like and to notify me immediately.”
He nodded. “Because you’re the expert.”
* * *
I was beginning my third week and was starting to feel slightly comfortable with my new position. At least now all my senior people attended my weekly staff meeting, and I could talk directly to them when I had a question. In my previous position my senior people were located on the various planets and it could take days to communicate via inter-planet messages.
“Well, Martha. What’s on the agenda for today?” I asked as I sipped
the coffee she had brought me.
“President Bennett wants to see you at fifteen hundred hours for an update, and of course, your staff meeting at thirteen hundred. Other than that, you are free to poke your nose wherever you want.” She gave me a conspiratorial smile.
“It’s my nature, Martha. I’m a worker bee, not a queen bee,” I said, liking the comparison. “These fancy positions are for old folks who are tired of doing and don’t mind delegating.”
Martha gave a genuine laugh of amusement. “I think you have everyone’s attention. The place is coming alive since you arrived.”
“Martha, call my security in,” I said. Since I had the morning free I thought I’d follow up on my curiosity. “Also, see if Commander Weaver at NIA headquarters is available to talk with me. This morning if possible.”
Martha went out to her desk and seconds later my current security guards, Maxine and Jerry, entered. “I thought you two had to be bored half to death by now,” I said.
“No, ma’am. Your security is never bored,” Maxine said, smiling just as Martha came back in.
“Commander Weaver said he would make himself available anytime you arrived,” Martha said.
“Maxine, can you make the necessary arrangements? I want to go the NIA Headquarters building to visit Commander Weaver, the Chief of NIA Stations,” I said, looking forward to seeing him and Commander Damon. Maxine spent several minutes on her Comm device before speaking.
“Ma’am, Colonel Ballard said he would have a shuttle and two more c-agents available in ten minutes.”
Martha notified me ten minutes later that she had been told everything was ready. I put on my jacket and exited with Maxine and Jerry falling in behind me as I headed toward the rear exit. That exit was reserved for the Core Committee and the Director of Security and had to be unlocked from the security control room. Two guards awaited us in addition to the two posted there for normal security. When I arrived, the door buzzed and one of the guards opened it. Outside, a Committee shuttle stood with the door open. I entered and took the first seat on the left. The shuttle had luxury seats, two on the right side and one on the left, and held fifteen. The seats were capable of rotating one hundred eighty degree so that four people could face each other, with enough room between rows for a table.
Jerry and Maxine had just passed me as Fred and Leo entered the cabin. Before they could close the hatch, two canisters hit the opposite wall and the shuttle door slammed shut. I shot to my feet but before I could move, Leo scooped me up and began running toward the rear of the shuttle followed by Fred. Maxine and Jerry jumped out of the way as the canisters exploded and a cloud of smoke filled the cabin. Since it wasn’t an explosive device, I concluded it was gas—again—and slipped my mini gas mask on just before I was pushed to the floor. Leo and Fred were the last to collapse, Fred to one side and Leo half on top of me. I twisted so my face was resting against Fred’s body, which hid my left hand that held the mask in place. But when I tried to pull my Sig Sauer out of the holster I couldn’t. Leo’s body weight had my right arm immobilized. I would have to push him off to free my arm, but that would require my left arm to help which was holding my mask. It was all academic when the shuttle door opened, and I could hear two men.
“Kill the woman with the snake and let’s go,” a harsh voice demanded.
“What about the snake? It’s worth a quarter million credits, maybe more,” a higher-pitched voice whined.
“All right, but hurry. We don’t have more than a couple of minutes before security notices things aren’t right.”
With one eye closed and the other squinting and partly obscured by Fred’s body, I watched a mousy little man wearing a gas mask and scraggly hair working his way over the bodies of Maxine and Jerry toward me. Looking down, he smiled, seeing Red half hanging out of my blouse and near my left arm. As he reached down over me to grab Red I estimated my Sig Sauer was pointing at his upper chest. I slowly tightened the pressure on the trigger. As he bent further, I fired. The 9 mm slug entered his upper chest, up through his throat and out the back of his head. Like a champagne cork, he exploded up and backward followed by a trail of blood which caught up to him as he hit the floor. That exposed his friend, who was standing in the aisle between the seats. I forced my body to roll slightly back to the left, which brought the weapon pointing down the aisle, and fired once, twice, and a third time. One must have scored a hit as he stumbled backward into the closed door leading to the cockpit. I guessed he was wearing a flak jack because I saw no blood, although I knew at least one bullet had hit him.
Before I could shoot again, an assault weapon appeared from the doorway and sprayed a two-second burst, shredding the leather seats, shattering the windows, and punching holes in the shuttle’s skin. The saving grace was he wasn’t looking, just spraying waist high hoping to hit someone he assumed was standing or crouching while firing at his buddy. He stopped long enough to reach in, grab the man, and pull him out. I heard more shooting and a ground vehicle racing away.
Craig was the first one in followed by Seth and three or more behind them.
“Director!” Seth’s voice shouted.
“She’s over here, Seth,” Craig said, stepping over Maxine and Jerry and pulling Leo off me. A look of horror crossed his face as he saw my jacket in shreds. I almost laughed but thought better of it.
“I think we’re all okay. They used gas so everyone was on the floor when the shooting started,” I explained as he helped me sit up. I stuffed Red back into my blouse. “Check on them, I’m fine. Just dirty and late for my appointment,” I added with a grin.
Craig stared at me for a long time then shook his head.
“Colonel Pannell was right,” Seth said, staring down at me. “Let’s get the Director and her lazy security down to the dispensary.”
* * *
“Anna, should you be in the hospital or home?” Bennett asked as I entered his office at his request after leaving the dispensary. I noticed Glaser and Scherer were also there.
“No, sir. Just a few bruises and scrapes,” I said.
“As I understand it, a group of armed men attacked you and you killed one and the others escaped,” Bennett said as he scanned me for injuries. He looked concerned.
“That is correct. I believe this confirms my suspicions that WEP is a well-funded organization, Eastar based, and would like another Director of Committee Security,” I said and Scherer snorted.
“Why do you think they are an organization and not one or two deranged individuals?” Scherer asked.
“Deranged individuals would be focused on their manifesto. Organizations are focused on the objective. Individuals would ignore me, thinking they were smarter than the organization’s security. An organization would be concerned with eliminating a potential impediment to their success. I’m quite popular with the criminal elements for having closed down several major illegal operations. I was the target. They would have taken Red for the extra money and to confuse the issue. Notice that they didn’t attack the guards. They used gas to neutralize them.”
“Are you thinking of resigning, knowing they want you dead?” Glaser asked, frowning.
“No. I knew what to expect when I agreed to take the position. This isn’t a surprise. And I don’t like change so I’m here until you fire me.”
* * *
When I walked into the conference room for my weekly staff meeting, everyone stood. I waved both hands for them to sit and my face felt like it was on fire.
“I apologize. I should have gone over the various attempts on my life so Craig could have designed a short training course for those agents assigned to protect me. It’s the reason I always carry a mini gas mask. It’s only effective for a few minutes but enough to stay awake for the fight,” I said, giving a wry smile. I took out my mask and gave it to Seth, who was sitting on my right. I spent the rest of the afternoon going over each of my assassination encounters while in the NIA. It was a fun and entertaining afternoon.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Searching for Answers
“Good morning, Director Paulus,” Commander Weaver said as I entered his office.
“Good morning, Commander Weaver. Anna, please,” I said as he rose and came around his desk to greet me.
“Anna, it's a pleasure to see you and a chance for me to thank you for recommending me to replace you.”
“To be honest, I gave Admiral Lulltrel three names,” I said, sitting when he gestured as a senior chief put down two cups of coffee.
“I know. Commander Damon told me you did the same with her, and like her, I think being third behind Sinclair and Shrader is a good showing. As you suspected, they each felt this wasn’t a good time to move. Shrader’s wife is pregnant and Sinclair will be getting married soon, and they are very comfortable managing their own stations. Besides, Commander isn’t a bad rank to put your career on hold.” He smiled. “What can I do for you, Anna?”
“I’d like your stations to do a search for me. I’m interested in knowing if any active Committee delegates have died in the past three years and if so, how. I know it’s more of a police matter, but I thought it faster to go through the NIA. They can inform the police that it’s a P1A request if they run into any trouble.”
“You’re hot on the trail of some bad guys?” he asked. “If so, I kind of feel sorry for them. I wouldn’t want you chasing me.”
“The problem I’m investigating looks like an Eastar problem. I’m trying to verify that it is before I proceed.”
“I’d be glad to help.” He laughed. “Never hurts to be on good terms with the Director of Committee Security.”
* * *
When I returned to the Committee building, Martha informed me Craig wanted to see me, so I wandered down to the training area and found him supervising a mandatory marksmanship qualification for three c-agents. When he saw me enter the outer room, he waved me in and handed me a sound-deadening headset. I stood watching as the targets were reeled into each of the shooters’ tables. Craig marked each one passed, the date, and initialed it. When they left, he turned back to me.