“I’ll call you again in a week. I love you, Mom!” She cut the connection and waited as the program cycled through all the registries on the ISP’s servers erasing its tracks. She leaned back in her chair and smiled through her tears, musing on how wonderful it was to talk to her mother. It was Yuki’s voice she heard, but it was her mother who wept with her.
On the other end, her mother was experiencing very similar feelings. This was the moment she realized she had to explain everything about her daughter to Michael. He listened in amazement to the whole story, parts of it were terrifying, especially the bits about the possibility Meacham’s men (or the Chinese) could think Emily carried the gene mutation inside of her. Now he understood why George would not let her go to Naxos, what the real danger might be. But what most amazed him was Emily’s decision to return to Virginia, to the estate, to go back to school right under Meacham’s nose. She was probably right. They wouldn’t look for her there, even though they would search the entire earth if they knew of her relationship to Yuki. But what most amazed him was how self-possessed this young woman was. Yes, she was the same girl who looked him in the eyes at that birthday party all those years ago.
Emily put the thumb drive in her pocket and went back to the truck. She had something to eat at a little diner in Goshen and then headed back to her apartment. She was emotionally exhausted by these conversations and needed to rest up before meeting Sensei.
Sleep came over her almost as soon as she lay down on the couch. When she awoke it was just past midnight. She changed into dark clothes and a jacket, put the rifle scope in her pocket and went downstairs to roll the dirt bike out of the garage. She coasted the bike down the driveway and a short way down the block before popping the clutch to kick start the engine, in order to keep the noise of her departure to a minimum.
She found Sensei in the parking lot of the dojo in street clothes: jeans and sneakers and a light jacket. It wasn’t perfect camo, but it would probably do as long as they kept well concealed. He got on the back of the bike and they sped off toward the estate. She rode past the main gate to the spot along the edge of the forest where the stream emptied into the culvert under the roadway. They concealed the bike in the underbrush just inside the forest and picked their way along the stream bed. If she had been by herself she would have run the distance to the base of Promontory Rock. But Sensei was not familiar with the forest, and she thought he wouldn’t be able to move that fast in the dark.
They positioned themselves on the top of the rock and surveyed the estate. The moon was still a little more than half full, so there was enough light to see the buildings clearly. She handed the rifle scope to Sensei and let him look. He gasped when he saw the gutted main house. But there was more. Several large, dark SUVs with blacked out windows were parked in the drive with their head lights trained on the house. A number of shadowy figures in dark clothes were carrying sacks and boxes out of the basement and putting them in the vehicles. Finally, three men wheeled out what looked like a large refrigerator and loaded it into a van. Emily imagined it was probably the mainframe from the estate’s computer network.
“What the hell happened here? And who are those guys?” Sensei growled.
“I can’t really tell from here, but they’re dressed like the guys who invaded the estate last weekend. But it’s more complicated than that.”
Emily told him about the attack at the concert a few weeks earlier, and the plan to evacuate the estate that it triggered. She told him she didn’t know what happened to the rest of the household, whether any of them were safe. But she and her father had not managed to escape before the invasion, and he had died of the wounds he sustained protecting her. She remembered her mom’s warning and only told him enough to understand what had happened to her dad. She said nothing about her new name, or about Yuki, or about the genetics program. She said she didn’t know why these people would attack the estate. She knew nothing of Mr. Cardano’s business, or the government agencies he worked with or for. Sensei had no reason to think otherwise. But now at least he understood Emily’s distress and the extremity of her situation.
They made their way down to the stream bed and back to the road. On the ride back to town Sensei struggled to understand what must have happened that night. But it just exceeded his abilities. He simply didn’t know enough about George’s life, or Cardano’s to really fathom the meaning of what he had just seen. He knew George had been involved in a number of tight situations working with Cardano on State Department business. He assumed that really meant covert operations. The nighttime attack on the estate a week ago, the guys in the black trucks and dark uniforms ransacking the place, it all reeked of some sort of covert operation. He didn’t know how to help Emily, how to protect her, or even who it was he should protect her from. But he knew he had to keep a special eye on her.
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Chapter 10: A Meeting on the Road
School was closed the following Thursday and Friday for parent-teacher conferences. Of course, there would be no conference for Emily, nor was one needed. She was a model student, always prepared for class, always alert. As enigmatic as she appeared to her teachers, especially in the last couple of weeks, there was nothing more they could want from her as a student. She loved her math and science classes, chemistry this term, but also world history. Her history teacher noticed her special curiosity about Asian history. He assumed it was because she was partly of Chinese descent. She didn’t disabuse him of his confusion. Until recently, it was a confusion she shared.
She took the time off to insulate herself from a few more details of her former life. Across the mountains in Harrisonburg, the next large town west of the Shenandoahs, she took the truck to an auto detailing shop to have it repainted dark green. A trivial change perhaps, but it was in subtle shifts like this one that she hoped to find safety. The one huge hole in her precautions was the fact that she was still attending school as Emily Kane. Even if they didn’t know she was Yuki’s daughter, if Meacham’s people took the trouble to inquire at the school, they would know immediately that she was George Kane’s daughter. That in itself might make her seem to be worth pursuing. It was a chance she was determined to take. She had to continue to be Emily Kane for a few more months, even as she was laying the groundwork to become Michiko Tenno at the right moment.
She made her arrangements with the paint shop, took the dirt bike out of the back of the truck, and rode back to Warm Springs. She took a scenic route through Buffalo Gap, cut across the mountains to Deerfield and turned south on Marble Valley Road to Goshen. The foliage was still in full autumn color and this might be the last weekend one could enjoy it. It was thrilling to cut through the wind at top speed, the late morning sun setting the trees on the eastern ridgeline alight. She let her mind race on ahead, up and down the mountains on either side of the road. A few miles outside of Deerfield she saw a pair of motorcycles in her mirror that seemed familiar. She remembered seeing a similar pair outside of Staunton on the other side of Buffalo Gap. She turned down a Forest Service road on the right to see if they would follow.
It was a winding dirt road that turned south down a narrow valley between two ridges. As soon as she cleared the second turn, she pulled off the road to the left and sped up what looked like an old hiking trail. She stopped just below the ridge overlooking Marble Valley Road, cut the engine and watched the road. The two motorcyclists seemed to be conferring on the side of the road about a quarter mile down stopped near a black van. Were they talking about her? Were these more of Meacham’s men? She watched as they turned around and found their way to the Forest Service road. The van pulled on to the shoulder and waited while the motorcycles turned off. From her position, Emily could see the van and the dirt road. The motorcycles rode past the trail she had taken. She wondered how long it would take them to realize she hadn’t gone further down the road. There was no movement at the van.
She had to make a decision. It would be easy enough to evade these men, b
ut then she wouldn’t find out who they were. If they had first marked her in Harrisonburg, this might be the best course. But if they knew of her apartment over the Rincon’s garage, or that she was attending school, she was no longer safe, and neither were her friends. She could let them find her, take them on and see what she could find out about them. It would be risky, but she had a substantial advantage in that they were likely to underestimate her. She would want to make sure they didn’t spot her from a distance. She could probably control them at close range, maybe prevent them from using a radio or a gun. If she killed them, however, it would probably attract even more attention from whatever organization sent them. It was more important to find out who they were and what they knew about her.
The motorcycles hadn’t returned yet. She looked at the van. There was no activity there. She rolled the bike down the hill without starting the engine. She had to crash through some underbrush here and there, since the trail was not continuous on this side of the ridge. At the bottom, she left the bike behind some trees and watched the men in the van. She could see two in the front seats. They seemed to speak only to each other without making any gestures to the back of the van. She hoped that meant there weren’t any others. The direct approach appealed to her, maybe because it was her father’s way, so she walked out of the woods, crossed the road and tapped on the driver’s window. He was startled to see her and seemed at a loss for words, as if he didn’t know whether he should sit and talk innocently with this pretty girl on the side of the road, or burst out of the van and take her into custody. He rolled down the window.
“You guys lost?” she asked pointedly.
Though he was probably not much more than thirty, that seemed old to her. The man in the passenger seat made a move to get out, but the driver motioned to him to stay put. She had guessed right, there were no other men in the van. Bulges under their jackets told her they were armed, but they wore official looking clothes, jackets and ties. Emily thought this meant they weren’t simply criminals. Perhaps something like a conversation was possible. But she wanted to keep it brief. The return of the motorcycles might upset the odd equipoise that hung in the air. And then violence might ensue.
“Look guys, I know you’re following me. What the hell do you want?” The driver was still dumbfounded. Finally he figured out how to respond.
“I’m sorry, Miss, I can’t disclose the details of an active investigation,” he ventured with obvious diffidence.
“An investigation. Fine! Then who the hell are you? FBI? Let’s see some ID,” she demanded with a sneer. She had a pretty good idea the FBI didn’t work out of dark vans with guys on motorcycles.
“I can’t disclose that, Miss,” he replied. “But we want to talk to you about the events of a couple of weeks ago on Michael Cardano’s estate.”
“Fine! Let’s talk. What did happen to the estate? Did you guys burn it down?” She wanted to put him on the defensive, maybe find out what he really knew about her before revealing anything.
“You were there, weren’t you? Why don’t you tell us?”
“Just who do you think I am?” she asked with a mocking tone.
“You’re the chauffeur’s daughter. You lived there. What did you see that night?”
“Who’s asking? You gotta give something to get something,” she said defiantly.
When he didn’t respond, she turned and strode across the road toward the trees. The driver clamored out of the van with his gun drawn and shouted “Stop right there!” Emily turned and looked at him over her shoulder. The other man could be seen getting out of the passenger side, no doubt with his gun out too. The driver took three long strides toward her until he had his gun a few inches from her face. “On the ground,” he barked. They were standing in the middle of the road. She looked him in the eye, saw a flicker of uncertainty, and ignored him.
He took his left hand off the gun and reached for her shoulder, expecting to pull her to the ground, confident his gun gave him a commanding advantage. She let him pull her toward him. But instead of falling backwards, she spun toward him, slapping his gun hand across his chest, glaring directly into his face until he flinched and averted his eyes. Before he realized what was happening, she had taken hold of his wrist and elbow, twisting his gun hand down, around and finally pulling sharply upwards. He resisted, but her hands were stronger than he expected. The pain in his elbow was too great, and he had to allow himself to be bent over into an awkward crouch. The twisting movement accelerated and rather than merely being forced to kneel, he found himself flipped onto his back, his right arm bent in an extremely awkward angle. She placed her foot on his neck, twisted the gun out of his hapless hand and pointed it at his chest.
When the second man came around the back of the van he didn’t expect his partner to be already disarmed and helpless. He raised his gun and rushed forward shouting “Drop the gun!” She looked at him with an insouciant smile, gave the driver’s arm a slight twist with her left hand and when he howled in pain said “Gun down!” They stared at each other for a brief moment. She twisted the arm one more time and he howled “Do what she says!” The other man was clearly flustered, but he complied. “Kick it over there! Sit down next to the van!” A moment later, she stood over both men and demanded wallets and IDs. There was nothing informative there. They had no official credentials, and their personal information was meaningless to her. She threw their wallets and keys into the trees behind the van. She looked the driver in the eyes and said “I wasn’t there when the attack happened. I don’t know who did it. Don’t bother me again, unless you have something to tell me.” She turned to walk back across the road.
“Wait! Wait. Okay. Three of our agents were killed that night. We found their burned bodies in one of the outbuildings, maybe a woodshed. We need to know what happened,” he finally said with a sigh. This was puzzling news, and even enough to fluster her. It didn’t fit with the events she saw from the woods. But she couldn’t contradict it without admitting she was there.
“I can’t help you,” she said and started walking away.
“Wait! Here, take this.” He tossed her a tiny phone with only one button. “Call if you want to talk. The man who answers will be able to help you.” She looked at the phone skeptically for a moment, then put it in her pocket. She walked quickly back to her bike, tossed their guns into the underbrush, and sped off down Marble Valley Road. She looked back, but didn’t see any sign that they were pursuing her.
Emily knew the phone was dangerous. Whatever else she did, she knew she couldn’t bring it home with her. Even if it wasn’t tracking her now, she knew they could use it to track her at any time. She wasn’t sure she could risk using the phone, or even what she would say to whoever answered. She needed to talk to Mr. Cardano. She rode down to the community college in Clifton Forge to use their library. She didn’t want to risk using the Goshen Library again.
Emily booted up the program on the thumbdrive at the first terminal she found. It was back in the stacks in a deserted section of the library. She selected the second number on the list the program presented to her. Cardano would have destroyed the first phone already. He answered on the second ring.
“Emily, is that you?”
“Yes, Mr. Cardano. I have to talk to you. Is my mom there?”
“She’s in the other room. Shall I get her for you?”
“No, not yet. I need to talk to you first,” Emily said. She told him about the meeting on the road with the men in the van, about the phone they gave her. “Do you know who those men were?”
“Yes. They must have been Burzynski’s men.” Michael quickly explained who he was and guessed what he might want. He told Emily about her father’s meeting with Porter, how he killed him and his men, undoubtedly in self-defense, and disposed of the bodies in the woodshed.
“If I call him, can I believe anything he says?”
“It doesn’t matter, Emily. He has no information you want. He just wants to know if his men were kille
d by Meacham and what he wanted at the estate.”
“I think I have to talk to him, no matter what. They’ll just keep looking for me until I do.”
“You’re probably right,” Cardano said. He was impressed with her understanding of the situation. “But you have to be very careful what you tell him. Let him think his men were killed by the assault teams you saw that night. But you don’t know who any of those men were. You’re just an innocent bystander who wants to know what happened to her father, okay?”
“Yes, I understand. Thank you, Mr. Cardano.”
“Emily, from now on, please call me Michael. You are an impressive young woman, and I am honored to know you,” he said in a grand gesture. She felt a little flushed.
“Okay. I’ll call back tomorrow. Tell my mom I love her.” She broke the connection, then pulled up the website for the university in Charlottesville on another terminal. She examined some campus maps for a few minutes, before leaving the library and heading over to the mall across town. In an isolated corner of the food court she pulled out the phone, and took a deep breath as she looked at its one button. There was no light or dial tone or any other indication it was on. Finally she pressed the button, but there was still no sound. A few seconds later a man’s voice came out of the speaker.
“Hello, Emily. I understand you have something to tell me about the events of the other night,” the voice said. It was disturbing to hear her name used familiarly by someone she didn’t know and had no reason to trust. That was undoubtedly the effect he was hoping for. She decided not to conceal her revulsion from him.
“I’ve already told your men I wasn’t there. What exactly is it you want from me?” she asked petulantly.
Girl Fights Back (Go No Sen) (Emily Kane Adventures) Page 9