Not Exactly Allies

by Kathryn Judson

CHAPTER 21 – THE INVASION

  "You're staring, sir," Emma Hugh said.

  "Sorry," Chief Stolemaker said.

  "Sorry, he says, while he keeps staring," Emma said, not without humor.

  He left his eyes on her but settled into his chair, assuming a softer expression, one that included eye blinks. "Is this better?" he asked.

  "I'm still wondering what I've done to warrant such examination, but yes, it is better. Blinking helps a lot."

  Stolemaker laughed. "The current PM would appreciate your wit. You two would get along, I think."

  "Any news?"

  "So far, so good. He's not dead nor maimed nor missing, at least as far as I know. As for the earlier staring, I hope you'll excuse me. I was reflecting on how it is that small actions sometimes have life-changing consequences, even small missteps made by other people."

  "And what was my misstep, sir?"

  "I was leading up to something else. And someone else's misstep."

  "Lead on, then. I'll shut up and listen."

  Stolemaker chuckled. "Nicest nurse I've had in a long time. None of this 'poor baby' stuff that makes me seethe with homicidal urges. Anyway, has anyone ever told you how I got this chief's job I'm saddled with?"

  She shook her head.

  "That's copping out. You've heard something," Stolemaker said.

  "So this is a fishing expedition for office rumors?"

  "Could be, but isn't."

  "So, at a guess, it wasn't because Mrs. Wyatt resigned?"

  "There was another chap after her and before me. I got the job because that chap mistreated your Richard."

  "I didn't know that."

  "I didn't think so. I'm not so sure I'd bring it up with your Richard, either. It's not something he handled well at the time, and I'm not sure he's over it yet. In any case, if the chap who followed Wyatt hadn't been such a jerk to your husband, I'd likely be still at my old job, where I thought I was happy enough until recruiters convinced me otherwise."

  "So, ipso facto, Richard got you shot?"

  Stolemaker laughed, a good healthy laugh. "Zounds, woman, you insult me!" he said in a creditable, rousing stab at fake Shakespeare. He resumed a normal voice. "No. I'm not the blame-meister sort, and if I get that way, I hope they kick me out."

  "Noted," Emma said, impishly.

  "So, to back up, the man who mis-stepped was my predecessor, not Richard. But I can't think of Richard without thinking about how I got my job, and I can't look at you without thinking of Richard. I just thought it was funny, that's all, the way everything comes around to the way it does."

  "Tracing back chains of events can make any person crazy, you know," Hippo said as he stepped into the room. "Sorry. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I wondered at you two being up at this small hour. Any problem?"

  "Not medically, thanks," Stolemaker said.

  "Are we in for an evacuation or something?"

  "Minor invasion is more like," Stolemaker said. "I've got a couple of agency psychologists en route."

  Hippo put his hand on Stolemaker's forehead, as if feeling for fever. "You asked for psychologists?" he asked, filling his voice with disbelief.

  "Not exactly. But these two got in trouble and need to be talked to and I'm not sure how well I'm traveling just yet."

  "You're not," Hippo said. "Not if I can help it. You were worn out as well as shot, and I don't like the hints of infection you're showing."

  "Yes, doc," Stolemaker said. "But I hate putting you at risk. I can hobble out to the car and have Mrs. Hugh drive me to a meeting in some dark lane if you'd rather."

  "No, thanks. My house, my call, my life, my risk," Hippo said. "Besides, I've kept a bag packed and money stashed if ever I have to leave England. I've had them at hand ever since my conscience got shoved over the edge and I was invited to jump after it."

  "How'd we get to this point?" Stolemaker asked. "How'd we get to where a doctor who values life has to explain himself?"

  "I wouldn't mind so much having to explain myself," Hippo said. "It's the not having any real voice at all that drove me underground."

  "Point taken," Stolemaker said. "Although I like to think that things are getting better, on that particular issue."

  "We can hope," Hippo said. "But-"

  "Company," Emma said, watching out the window.

  Stolemaker got a gleam in his eye. "Do you want a job, Westmoreland? I have the authority to hire people and I'd like to hire you before those two young fools walk through the door. If you work for me, they have to respect you."

  "No, they don't," Emma said. "They work for Orchard. If they think Westmoreland works for you, they're apt to dismiss him as only semi-significant, or at least way down the food chain from themselves."

  "Better yet," Stolemaker said. He turned to Hippo. "You can quit anytime you like, but for now let's leave it an option, at least. What do you say? I'd like your take on these two, and I can't justify having you in on the chat unless you're on the team."

  "Liar," Hippo said.

  "I prefer to think of it as exaggerating," Stolemaker said. He stuck out his hand for a handshake.

  "I'm keeping my options open, but count me in for now," Hippo said, as he shook the chief's hand.

  "Oh, good heavens, I think they're trying to carjack Dourlein," Emma said. "Hippo, stay here with the chief. I'll yell if we need help." She grabbed her cane and headed out to the van, leaving the door open behind her so sound could travel better.

  The chief hauled himself to his feet. Using a walker, he headed to the window for a look.

  "Oh, that's intelligent," Hippo said.

  "Hmmm?" Stolemaker hummed, as if he were giving the doctor a chance to elaborate but wasn't promising to pay too much heed.

  "It's not like you have much in the way of maneuvering capacity at the moment," Hippo said. "Not that it matters, if a bullet comes through the window and hits you someplace vital this time."

  "Spoilsport," Stolemaker said. Having reached the window, he took a careful peek out.

  "This is not to mention what Emma and that secretary of yours are going to do to you if they catch you at it," Hippo said.

  The chief called retreat and went back to a chair.

  Despite having declared it hazardous beyond words to peek out the window, Hippo walked over and took his own look. "Looks like your ladies have it under control," he said.

  "I'm not surprised," Stolemaker said. "Mrs. Dourlein hasn't outlasted every other person in my wing of the building by letting people push her around. And Emma's tiny but she's figured out how to compensate for that."

  "I don't suppose you'd care to elaborate," Hippo said.

  "It doesn't bear thinking about, actually," Stolemaker said, perhaps a quarter in jest, and three-quarters serious.

  Emma and Darlene escorted the wayward psychologists into the room. Emma had her cane leveled at them, as if it were loaded. They clearly believed it was loaded.

  Darlene had a limp. "You have grounds for firing me for criminal stupidity," she said to the chief.

  "I doubt that," Stolemaker said.

  "I thought they understood that we'd reached safe haven and that the charades were over, so I took the handcuffs off," Darlene said. She craned her neck and shifted her shoulders, fighting kinks. She rubbed a sore spot on her arm. "Besides which, I had this notion that it might look better for them to be seen walking in like normal people, in the unlikely event that anyone was within viewing distance and paying attention."

  This was too much for Janice. After wildly looking around, she rushed Emma and tried to grab the cane away. Emma used judo and sat her on the floor. Janice started to scream for help, but Emma put a hand over her mouth. Janice turned her eyes on Dennis, pleading to him for help.

  Dennis appeared to be thinking deeply. "It's no good, Janice," he said. "It wouldn't make any sense for them to bring us out here to kill us but then take the cuffs off, especially with only one person there."

  Janice blinked miserably.
Emma backed away from her. Janice scuttled behind Dennis.

  "But they're crazy," she said.

  "I doubt it," Dennis said.

  "But I killed her husband," she whimpered.

  "No, you didn't," Dennis said.

  "It's no good trying to cover for me. I didn't mean to do it, but I got scared and did it anyway, and she's going to kill me in revenge and I deserve it but I don't want to die and, and-"

  "If you had only let me explain earlier, I would have told you that Triple-O Five is fine," Dennis gushed, in a heartfelt attempt to reassure her.

  Janice bristled. "If I had let you explain? If I had let you explain earlier? You, you, you self-centered ninny. Why should I trust you, anyway? You got me arrested."

  "You stole my car!"

  "And then you wouldn't bail me out!"

  "Like it's customary for the victim to-"

  Emma tapped Dennis on the shoulder with her cane. He jumped back. Janice jumped forward to protect him. She winced when she put weight on her ankle, but she held her ground ferociously.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," Emma said, "considering that you've already spilled a code name, I'd hate to think what else you might let slip if you get any hotter. Sit down and try to cool off, why don't you?"

  Dennis didn't seem to remember anyone spilling any code name. He looked at Janice.

  "I didn't spill any code names, mister! You're the one who said Triple O-" She caught herself. In a very small voice, she said, "oh."

  "I think we're fine here, Mrs. Dourlein, if you'd like to go about your business. If you're okay?" Stolemaker said.

  "I'm better than my van, thanks," Darlene said.

  "Did that answer my question?" Stolemaker asked Hippo.

  "Not to my satisfaction," Hippo said.

  "Who's he?" Janice asked.

  "Now she thinks to ask," Darlene said.

  Sensing an explosion if all the players stayed in place, Hippo pulled Darlene into the next room for a medical checkup, and the application of disinfectant to a bite on her ankle (courtesy Janice).

  "This could be a long day," Emma said, to no one in particular.

  Stolemaker suggested it might be a good idea for everyone to get a nap, unless there was any reason to start in immediately. Dennis protested that matters were urgent. Janice moped that she didn't dare be late to work two days in a row – not that she dared go to work, either, not with Orchard setting her up for assassination.

  Stolemaker's take on Dennis was that the young man had got it into his head that it was up to him to save the world. Likely the boy watched too much television or went to the wrong sort of movies. As for the girl's complaint, she probably had a point despite herself. Things could go very wrong if Orchard got within arm-twisting distance of either of them, especially Janice, who looked ragged both physically and emotionally.

  Darlene and Hippo came back into the kitchen. "Anything else before I go?" Darlene asked.

  "Two things, for starters," Stolemaker said. "First off, eat something before you get wobbly."

  "I'm one step ahead of you," Hippo said, flourishing an egg. "Emma's having another attack of craving for French toast, and I'm jumping on board, if that's all right."

  "That's French toast as in coated with egg batter and fried, not French toast buttered one side and toasted," Emma said. "The latter we call Texas toast in America, at least where I come from. Well, sometimes you add stuff to it to make it real Texas toast."

  "In any case," Hippo said, "I have the makings for enough for everyone, unless Dennis here has a footballer's appetite. We have ham, too, though we'll have to ration that."

  "Sounds good," Stolemaker said.

  "Old family recipe," Emma said. "I think you'll like it. The French toast I mean, not the ham. Ham I just cut and maybe fry, if I want to get fancy."

  "I'll help," Darlene said, heading to the sink to wash up.

  "You forgot Point Two," Janice said to Darlene. "He said – the chief said – he had two things for you to do. You've only heard the one."

  "I did not forget. He'll tell me when he's ready, and it's up to him whether he does it in front of people. And, young lady, unless instructed otherwise you will cease calling him the chief outside of headquarters."

  "Speaking of which, that ties in with Point Two, thank you ladies," Stolemaker said, diplomatically. "Point two is that we need to get these two stashed somewhere, and need to steer Orchard off of them."

  "That's more than one point," Janice said. "Two points, actually. That should be Point Two and Point Three."

  "Mrs. Hugh, could you take over on them?" Stolemaker asked, sounding somewhat weary.

  "If Emma shares a bedroom with Janice, and you billet with Dennis, I have enough room to stash them here," Hippo said to Stolemaker. "Barely, but if we're all neighborly it should work. There's always the couch for anyone who snores or needs to get away from snoring. It would be like a family reunion or something, I'd say," Hippo said, as he made a production of whisking eggs with milk and Emma's semi-secret, trademark flavorings. He handed the bowl to Emma for the bread dunking.

  "Ooh, ick, is that how you're supposed to do that?" Janice asked. "It looks awfully messy."

  "More fun than making mud pies," Emma said, joyfully sloshing the bread in the goo with no attempt to keep her fingers clean.

  "Mud pies? What are those called in regular English?" Janice asked. "Isn't that a chocolate something or other?"

  "Never mind," Emma said. She didn't want to explain that all little girls she ever knew had molded regular garden mud into pies and pretended to cook them. She made a mental note to ask Richard if this was another odd national difference, or only another something in the long, sad list of things that literal-minded, over-protected postmodern females missed out on in their youth.

  "My mother makes something like you're making there, only she bakes it," Dennis said.

  "Same difference, sort of. Only this is faster, and you can see when it's done. I'm pathetic with oven toast," Emma said.

  "But if it's supposed to be baked-" Janice said.

  "Cookery books have it both ways," Hippo said.

  "That's settled then," Stolemaker said, heartily. "Pendergrast and Uppington will stay here for the time being, and-"

  "They are kidnapping us!" Janice exclaimed, jumping over to Dennis and grabbing his shirt with a double death grip.

  "It's more like they're saving our sorry lives, I should think," Dennis said. "I mean, I don't know about you, but I don't especially want to go home and not have proper backup right now."

  Janice was confused. Then she lit up. She leaned close to whisper in his ear. "Oh, I get it. This way we get to spy on them without them knowing it."

  Dennis shrugged, not agreeing but not wanting to disagree. He tried to give her a reassuring squeeze across the shoulders, but she panicked and moved off. Dennis looked peeved, but she didn't seem to notice.

  "Here, now," Janice said, moving toward the cooks. "Show me how to do this, will you?" She exuded a wish to become chummy.

  The sudden change in attitude made Hippo blink, but he regained his composure and invited her to do the actual cooking. "C'mon, now, it's not as hard as it looks," he said. "It takes practice to become adept, but you'll be fine."

  Janice was dubious but accepted the utensil he pressed into her hand. "I just meant to watch you, really. I buy ready-to-cook stuff or take away. I've never done this before," she said.

  "I'm sure it's much easier than twoccing cars," Dennis said, twoc being short for "taken without owner's consent."

  He likely shouldn't have said just that.

  Stolemaker asked him into the next room for a private briefing while breakfast was being prepared. As he left, Dennis looked at Janice for the satisfaction of watching her panic at being separated from him, but Janice had gone into her clenched jaw routine, and was ignoring him.

  After finishing with Dennis, a weary Stolemaker debriefed Janice, such as he could, considering she'd decided she
was there to spy on him.

  After the meal, which wasn't noted for companionship all round, Hippo lent pajamas to Dennis and a t-shirt to Janice. Janice proved too nervous to change out of her clothes, falling asleep fully dressed underneath the covers, clutching a stout hairbrush she'd appropriated for defense. Dennis, slightly more composed, changed into the borrowed pajamas, but surreptitiously stashed his day clothes under his pillow after carefully rearranging the sheets into what he considered a better arrangement for easier exit in case of an emergency.

  Darlene called Felicity. She predicted, amongst other things, that Janice and Dennis would be derailed emotionally and mentally if they didn't have tidy, fresh clothes to change into upon arising. They seemed that sort of people.

  Felicity volunteered to find them something to wear. After she rang off, she held a photograph of her Michael and talked to it. "Wish you could be here, luv. I'd borrow some of your courage. And some of your sense of humor. I'm feeling a bit short in both departments right now. I miss you."

  She chided herself for feeling sorry for herself, laughed at herself for talking out loud to a photo, and went to take a shower. She hoped it would help her wake up. It had been a long night after a rough day, and it somehow promised to be another long day.