by Alex Siegel
"Yes, ma'am." Corrie sounded uncertain.
Marina called Smythe and introduced him to Corrie. Once the two of them were talking to each other, Marina stepped away.
Imelda was working nearby. Marina hadn't spent much time with the team's mechanic, so she walked over with the intention of having a quick, friendly chat.
The building had two conference rooms in the south-west corner. Both had clear glass walls, and they reminded Marina of giant fish tanks. Imelda was kneeling in the northern conference room. She was using a torch to solder copper pipes together.
"Hi!" Marina said. "What are you building?"
Imelda turned off the torch and looked up. Her black hair was braided tightly to keep it out of the way. Her jeans had stains and holes, and she was wearing kneepads. The bones in her scrawny body were prominent all over. She had the straight hips of a boy, but her light brown face was pleasantly feminine.
"I'm laying the plumbing for your new bathroom, ma'am," Imelda said in a slight Mexican accent.
Marina nodded. "Oh. Nice. I can't wait to move in."
This conference room would be split to become her bathroom and her walk-in closet. The room in the corner would become her bedroom.
"But what about the glass walls? I can't live in a fish tank."
"I'll paint them gray," Imelda said.
"That will work. And we need to get started on the security systems. We're defenseless right now."
"Yes, ma'am. I already ordered a bunch of cameras and monitors."
Marina smiled encouragingly. Imelda seemed like a fine, dedicated assistant. She didn't need to be pushed to work harder.
"How are you feeling?" Marina said. "Is everything all right with you?"
Imelda nodded. "I'm very happy to be back at work. Prison was awful. I was going crazy in that tiny cell with nothing to do but stare at the walls. I can't imagine how people survive solitary confinement for years. It's so cruel. I'd rather be dead."
"It's a cruel world."
"I saw you fight Ipo, ma'am. I've never seen a woman fight like that. You're so strong and flexible. It was inspiring."
"Thanks." Marina smiled. "I've been training for a long time. If you need anything from me, don't be afraid to ask. Or if you just want some girl talk, that's fine, too. Just because you're an assistant doesn't mean I don't respect you. You're an important member of the team."
"Thank you, ma'am," Imelda said.
Marina walked over to where Min Ho, Jia, Ipo, and Katie were working on the badge printer. Chunks of packing foam and plastic wrappers were all over the floor. Min Ho was reading assembly instructions, and he seemed confused.
"How long until I get my FBI badges?" Marina said.
"Tonight," Min Ho said, "hopefully. Maybe you should plan on going first thing in the morning. This is a new model, and I'm not exactly sure how it works."
She rubbed her head. "These delays are killing me. All we've accomplished today is watch an asshole give a sermon. The city could be in real trouble, and we're stuck here."
"We've done a lot of work on the new headquarters, ma'am. It's starting to feel like home."
"Tell that to Dr. Carefree's victims." She snarled.
"Ma'am," Ipo said, "who is going out on this assignment?"
He was wearing a light gray jacket over a black shirt. His big, round face was locked in a stern expression as usual. To Marina, he always looked mildly constipated.
"I was planning to take Hanley and Katie," she said. "He was a real FBI agent, so he won't have a problem playing the part. She needs as much experience in the field as she can get."
"Why are you going? We'll just be gathering information. No fighting is anticipated. The job doesn't require the presence of a full-blown commander."
"I also need to get out and learn my way around."
Ipo pressed his lips together. He clearly didn't like that answer.
"I know I'm supposed to lead from the rear," Marina said apologetically. "Legionnaires take risks. Commanders rescue them when those risks turn bad. That's certainly how we'll play it in the future. But this time, I need to participate. It's important for me to observe my people in action and learn your capabilities."
He sighed. "Yes, ma'am, but you can't use that justification all the time."
"I'll decide when I can't." She walked off.
* * *
Frisco Protective Services was located in the south-east corner of San Francisco where industry was predominant. Proximity to highways and the waterfront made this area ideal for businesses that moved a lot of goods. On the way over, the van had passed old warehouses and factories. One building had partially crumbled, and Marina had guessed an earthquake had caused the damage.
She still hadn't felt her first earthquake. She could hardly wait.
Katie was driving, and she parked the van on the side of the street. Marina stepped out into bright morning sunlight and looked around with interest.
The security company was located in a pink, three-story building. It was big and had lots of square windows. An American flag hung behind one of the windows.
Katie and Hanley joined her. All three of them were wearing the generic blue suits of FBI agents, and they had matching fake identities with all the details correct. They openly carried service pistols in holsters while more exotic weaponry was concealed under their clothes.
Hanley's expression was fierce. He always seemed ready for a fight. The sunlight made his short, curly hair appear not as dark as usual.
"This feels weird," he said. "Instead of being an FBI agent, I'm just pretending. I used to arrest people like me."
Marina nodded. "Katie, are you ready for this?"
Katie wasn't wearing a tie, and her collar was open. The cut of her jacket emphasized her feminine curves. The blue in her eyes almost matched her costume.
"I think so, ma'am," she said.
"Just let us do the talking," Marina said. "Learn by watching."
"Yes, ma'am."
They went into the building. A security guard in a white shirt and black pants was sitting behind a desk.
"We're looking for Frisco Protective Services," Marina said.
"You found it," the guard replied. "How can I help you?"
She took out her shiny, new FBI badge and showed it. "We need to talk to the owner right away. It's an urgent matter."
"Sure. No problem."
The guard made a call. A minute later, the Spears team was escorted through the building and up to the third floor. The interior was generic office space with more cubicles than real offices. The only mildly interesting part was a radio dispatch center staffed by four women.
Marina, Hanley, and Katie were taken into a private office. The man sitting behind the desk was short with classical Italian features. His brown hair had receded a bit, but what remained was still thick and straight. He was wearing a blue suit and a black tie.
Marina liked how the office was furnished, and she took some mental notes. She still had to decorate her own office. The desk was made of dark wood with elegantly carved panels. Matching cabinets and shelves stood against the walls. Windows allowed natural light to flood the room, and live flowers were growing on the sill.
The man behind the desk stood up. "I'm Mr. Golino. What's going on?"
Marina flashed her badge again. "I'm Special Agent Piro. We're here to get information about an individual with the alias Dr. Carefree. You provide protective services for him."
Golino tensed, and that reaction told her she had come to the right place.
"We signed a confidentiality agreement," he said, "and I can't just..."
"Shut up. I don't give a shit about that. You can start by telling us his real name."
He bit his lip.
"Mr. Golino," Marina said in a low, angry tone, "I'm not screwing around. If you insist on being difficult, I'll ring you up for obstruction of justice or maybe even criminal conspiracy. I don't think your 'confidentiality agreement' will protect you when yo
u're standing trial."
Golino became pale. "His name is John Willis. He pays us for bodyguard and chauffer services."
"How much does he pay?"
"Five thousand dollars a day."
She whistled. "Pricey."
"I don't know much else," he said. "At Frisco Protective Services, we make it a policy to not ask questions about our clients, especially the ones that pay so well."
"Where does he live? You must know that much."
Golino worked with a computer on his desk for a minute. He wrote down an address on a piece of paper and handed it to Marina. "I believe he's at home now."
"Thank you for your cooperation," she said. "If we have more questions, we'll be back."
"Are you going to arrest Willis?"
"We're certainly going to have a long talk with him."
"One of my men is guarding him," Golino said.
"Don't warn him we're coming. We want it to be a surprise."
Marina didn't wait to be escorted out of the building. She simply left, and Hanley and Katie followed.
When they were outside, Marina called Min Ho. She put the phone in speaker mode so her team could hear.
"Look up John Willis. He lives in Santa Cruz. Here is his address." She read from the piece of paper.
"Found him, ma'am," Min Ho said. "John Willis is a semi-professional actor."
Marina nodded. "An actor. I knew it."
"I found some pictures, and the faces match. He's definitely Dr. Carefree."
"Where does an actor get enough money to pay for a high-end bodyguard service?"
He typed in the background for a moment. "He makes several cash deposits a day using multiple banks. It's a simple money laundering scheme. I don't know where he gets the cash from. He certainly doesn't earn it as an actor."
"OK. We're going to visit him now. Bye." She hung up. "How far is Santa Cruz?"
"About a two hour drive, ma'am," Katie said, "depending on traffic."
Marina raised her eyebrows. "Willis has a long commute. Let's go."
Chapter Nine
"We're almost there," Katie said.
Marina sighed. "Thank goodness."
The Santa Cruz Mountains separated the City of Santa Cruz from the Bay Area. The best way to cross the mountains was Highway 17, a winding, twisting road with seemingly a thousand blind curves. There were no usable shoulders for much of the route. Steel guardrails, dense redwood forests, or cliffs trapped traffic on both sides. A road sign had shown the peak elevation at 1,800 feet.
Marina had expected traffic to move cautiously, but instead, the pace had been consistently reckless. Obviously, drivers were willing to take risks to get over the mountains as quickly as possible. Those risks included tailgating at high speed in tight turns. Katie had confirmed that Highway 17 was one of the most dangerous roads in California with more than a hundred crashes a year.
Marina had tried to enjoy the majestic scenery along the way, but she had been too tense. She had caught herself pressing her razor sharp fingernails into the armrests more than once. When she had closed her eyes, she had suffered from motion sickness.
Finally, the hellish journey was over. Katie was driving the van into the quaint town of Santa Cruz.
"What kind of people live here?" Marina said.
"Hippies and artists," Katie said.
"In other words, nobody has any money."
"That's about right, ma'am, but they have a nice beach with a great, historic boardwalk. It's a fun place to hang out, especially if you're on a date."
"Except you have to get over the damn mountains first," Marina said.
Katie shrugged. "It's not so bad when you're driving. At least you're in control."
Marina looked at Hanley who seemed traumatized. I'm not the only one, she thought.
Katie drove through the town. Most of the buildings had an architectural style that Marina now associated with California. Walls were made of stucco over wood frames, and they were painted light, cheerful colors. Bricks were strictly for decoration. The nicest places had roofs covered in red, Spanish tile, and the rest generally used asphalt shingles or were flat.
Water conservation was a huge concern. Many homes used native flora in place of traditional grass lawns so watering wasn't needed. Marina spotted some cacti, the ultimate solution to the problem.
Katie parked the van in front of a tiny, single-story house on a back street. It was white with blue trim. Judging from the size, Marina guessed it contained only one bedroom. The front lawn had more dead spots and weeds than grass. A pathetic strand of Christmas lights hung from the roof. A concrete driveway led to a rear parking garage.
"The magnificent home of Dr. Carefree," Katie said.
"Indeed," Marina said.
She got out of the van. The weather here was a bit warmer than San Francisco, but it was still damp and cool. A few clouds hung low in the sky.
Hanley and Katie joined her.
"We're still FBI agents," Marina said. "Same cover story as before, and we'll play it the same way."
"Ma'am, why don't you let me take the lead?" Hanley said.
"Why?"
"You're with us so you can observe, not do all the talking. That's what you told Ipo."
She furrowed her brow. "You're right. I'm so used to being the senior legionnaire, it's hard for me to defer. Being a commander is a foreign concept. In a way, I'm still surprised it happened."
"How did it happen?" he asked.
"The legate sent me here to get me away from Aaron. She felt our love was dangerous. You could say I was exiled from Chicago."
"Oh. That's a strange reason to promote somebody."
Marina shrugged. "I'm not going to argue with the legate. She could've killed me instead. She's not a fan of Society members loving each other, particularly when one of them is a commander. It compromises our ability to make rational decisions. Xavier is a prime example of a love gone horribly wrong."
"I can see her point," Hanley said.
"Take the lead. Katie and I will hang back and watch the real FBI agent at work. I only have one piece of advice. Make him crap his pants with fear."
He smiled. "Yes, ma'am."
He walked up to the door and pounded on it. The door rattled loosely in a frame which wasn't quite square. The whole house seemed a little cockeyed.
After a moment, the door opened, and a man looked out. He was strongly built and wearing a tan business suit. Marina concluded he was a bodyguard working for Frisco Protective Services.
Hanley drew his gun and pointed it at the bodyguard's right eyeball. "On the floor!" Hanley bellowed in a deep, powerful voice. "Face down! Hands behind your back!"
The bodyguard backed off with his hands raised. "Calm down, mister."
"Down!" Hanley yelled. "We're FBI!"
The bodyguard complied timidly. Marina nodded with approval.
The whole team entered the small house. Katie covered the bodyguard while Marina and Hanley quickly searched for Willis.
They found their man cowering in a bedroom. He was wearing a ridiculous outfit made of pink and blue velvet. His handsome face was distinctive. Hanley grabbed Willis by the arm and threw him to the floor.
Hanley aimed his gun at Willis's head and cocked the hammer. "You're in a shit-load of trouble, Dr. Carefree. Start talking."
"What did I do?" Willis said in a quavering voice.
"Money laundering. You've been making a lot of cash deposits lately. Care to tell me where all that loot came from?"
Willis whimpered.
Marina looked around. The small bedroom had a narrow bed shoved against a wall. A full-size, lighted makeup table took up as much room. Willis had fake mustaches and beards on a shelf. An open closet was overflowing with boldly colored outfits. More clothes were on a rack in the bedroom, and even more were hanging in the bathroom.
"I asked you a question, asshole," Hanley growled.
He shot a hole in the floor near Willis's face. The noise w
as very loud in the small bedroom. The actor jumped like he had been shot even though he was uninjured. Marina smelled feces. Success, she thought.
"I go up to San Francisco every day," Willis blubbered. "I stop in Los Gatos along the way to get a bag of cash and a script from a guy."
"Script?" Hanley said.
"I don't write my own sermons. I just deliver the lines. I use the cash to pay for bodyguards and other expenses, and I keep some. That's how I get paid."
"Who is this 'guy'?"
"I don't know his name." Willis shook his head. "He just gives me the money and the script."
"And you didn't think this was suspicious? I should throw you in jail right now!"
"No, please! I'm not breaking any laws. I'm just delivering a message of love and acceptance. I'll report the income. I swear!" Tears were on Willis's cheeks.
Marina could tell he wasn't lying. The terror in his eyes was real, and he was quivering. He was just a minor pawn in this game.
"Tell me more about this mysterious guy," Hanley said.
Willis gulped. "He came here one day and offered me the gig. I had to say 'yes.' I'm a starving actor. Do you see this shitty house where I live?"
"Why do you need so much personal security?"
"That was part of the deal. It keeps reporters and groupies away. I'm not allowed to talk to anybody."
"We need to meet your friend," Hanley said. "When are you seeing him next?"
"I was just getting ready to leave," Willis said. "My ride will be here in a few minutes."
"Get up! We're going with you. Try anything cute, and your next stop will be federal prison."
Willis got to his feet. Hanley still had a gun pointed at him, and Willis couldn't take his eyes off the weapon.
"I need to change my pants," he said timidly.
"Yes, you do." Hanley holstered his gun.
Willis went into the bathroom.
"Leave the door open!" Hanley ordered.
Marina took the opportunity to search the room, and she mostly found clothes. Some needed to be patched or thrown away. There was a drawer full of magazines featuring naked men. She didn't discover any weapons.