by MB Austin
She tapped him with her toe. “Tom.” When he looked up, Maji looked him in the eye. “I didn’t kill anybody. I didn’t fucking kill anybody.”
He straightened up, and smiled at her. “Nope. Can we walk back?”
She laughed. “Not a chance. But we can pace it slow, viejo.”
They followed the east wall back toward the front of the property at a leisurely jog. Maji recalled where the conversation had started, why Tom had wanted this run with her. “So, soldier, what do you want to do when you grow up?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about applying to Paragon. For real, this time.”
Two months back, they had both worked an op under the cover of Hannah’s security firm, as contractors to a media mogul with a star getting death threats. It had let them show off some field skills without revealing their military status. And it was the kind of work he’d always scoffed at.
“Wow. Could have sworn you’d rather be a Walmart greeter than go over to the dark side.” In war zones, private military contractors, or PMCs, earned huge money but often did more harm than good.
“Well, having the Mighty Cohen on our team hasn’t hurt us any.” He paused. “Besides, not all PMCs are the same. For all the Blackwaters, there’s a couple good ones out there, too. And Paragon’s more a personal security firm, anyway.”
True enough—as far as the firm’s public face went. “Really? Sounds like a lot of babysitting some ambassador’s brats again. Could be a waste of your talents.”
“Well, when you’re an associate, you get to pick your assignments. I been collecting stories from anybody ever ran into Cohen or her operators in the field. Back in ’92, they were the tip of the spear for a group Israel sent into Serbia to get the Jews out. Extracted over a thousand civilians.”
Maji remembered that time only by Ava’s worry. She’d learned about the Mossad connection years later. “So they’re kick-ass humanitarians. What else?”
“Well, I hear over half the operators, or associates, whatever, are women. And their ops are strictly white hat. Did you know they protect a woman Nobel Prize winner?”
“Two, actually. I hear the nuclear physicist is a nice lady.” And then there’s Mom.
“Ri…you and I both know that you know more than you’re saying. Cohen doesn’t let just anybody teach at her dojo. You’ve got some kind of an in with her.”
Maji thought about spinning him a tale about meeting Hannah through their recent op. But not telling him key things about herself—like her name, and her mother’s—was different than lying. “Tom, you want me kicked out of the program?”
“’Course not. I’m glad they still get to use you, however that Reserves thing’s gonna work.”
“Then try to remember you don’t know what I’m about to tell you.”
From the corner of her eye, she could see his grin. “Things I don’t know could fill a book.”
Maji almost told him about Hannah saving her father’s life, about her own rough childhood, and Papi bringing her to Long Island for some tough love. Time for that later, if he went to work for Hannah. “Hannah is my godmother.”
“Oh my God.” He pulled up short, and stuck his hands on his hips. “You’re family.”
“Guilty as charged. And after I got all the way through selection, JSOC freaked out about that. Nearly washed me out.”
“Stupid. Typical.” He fell into pace with her, walking the cool-down to the house. “But?”
“But nothing. They finally decided they wanted me as an operator, and her as a consultant. So they firewalled us. No personal contact from the day I started boot camp until the day I woke up in the hospital.”
“Jeez.”
“Yeah. And you know how much the Army loves security companies that try to poach its best and brightest? I mean you, asshole.”
“Oh. Thanks. And yeah, I get your point. I’ll make another plan.”
“I didn’t say that. Just, when you do go after that brass ring, if you do, don’t go through me to get to Hannah. Clear?”
“Five by five, Rios. Five by five.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Angelo hiked up to the Big House, climbed the wide, arching stairs to the patio, and peeked into the kitchen. To his surprise, Nonna was actually letting Maji help with dinner. As agreed, she had dialed the Ri persona back a little more. He wouldn’t say she looked like her everyday self in training back at Fort Bragg, but she didn’t look like an extra from My Cousin Vinnie anymore, either. The jeans were a little too tight, and the makeup still noticeable. But the running shoes and fuchsia tank top gave a relaxed feel, like she wasn’t trying as hard now.
Angelo noticed Rose watching his friend, too, and wondered if she was struck more by seeing Maji’s hair down or by the rippling of the muscles in her shoulders. Mostly Rose looked concerned. Of course she would be, after yesterday. Even he was not convinced his top operator was on her A game. But she was bouncing back, obviously. Something Maji said made both Nonna and Rose laugh. He took that as his cue to enter.
“Ladies. And Ri.”
“Ha-ha.” Maji pointed the long-bladed knife she held at him. “Get out of my kitchen,” she said in an uncanny imitation of Nonna. “Some of us are trying to work here.”
He skirted around her and attempted to give Nonna a squeeze. She fended him off, repeating Maji’s message in Italian. But he could see the smile his grandmother tried to mask with gruffness. Must be the Rios magic. “Fine—I’m going. I gotta do my exterminator act anyway.”
“You still do that?” Rose asked.
“Every Sunday since I was ten. Never could get Ricky to learn.”
Rose looked incredulous. “But we’ve been on the mattresses all week. Who could possibly have gotten in and planted bugs?”
“On the mattresses,” Maji said, and actually snorted. “She’s so cute sometimes.”
“Be nice, Ri.” He turned back to Rose. “Not a chance in hell, of course you’re right, hon. But still, it’s best to know for sure that the house is clean. Right, Nonna?”
“You do a thing yourself, you know it’s done right,” Nonna agreed.
Angelo left them, pleased to hear music behind him as he went. He wished he could stay and actually spend some downtime alone with the women he loved. But it was time to yank out all the bugs he’d hidden around the house. If Sirko pulled any more tricks, Khodorov would be sure to run his own search. And he’d better not find anything.
Rose looked around the table at her family. At the end, Nonna seemed to be tuning the family out. She caught every word of conversation in the kitchen, but apparently in a crowd with multiple voices, it was hard for her to make out who was saying what. Nonna seemed to retreat inward at those times, and Rose could see how much she had aged since Max’s and Carlo’s deaths. Jackie was quiet, too, perhaps in anticipation of Angelo leaving.
At the side table, Frank opened the red wine and poured a glass for everyone except Maji. Rose gave him a little smile, pleased to see him back in the fold and looking himself again.
“How you girls doing?” Gino asked as the glasses were distributed. Rose wasn’t sure whether he really cared or was just being polite. She hesitated to answer.
Maji saved her from having to respond. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
Gino looked almost tickled. “Please do.”
“I feel like I’m stuck on base, not allowed to go outside the wire, and just waiting for the mortars to come find me,” Maji reported in a matter-of-fact tone. “Running helps, but it’s not enough. I can only go so many loops inside the walls here before I want to hit somebody.”
Angelo’s bark of a laugh got even Nonna’s attention. “She really does need to hit something, G. I know that sounds bad, but—”
“Oh no, I know what you mean,” Rose contributed, on solid ground at last. “I took a kickboxing class on campus once, and it was great. Really helped my stress level that semester.”
“A woman living alone should know how to ta
ke care of herself,” Jackie added.
Ricky frowned. “I think we got all you ladies covered here.”
“Yeah, you got us locked down, while Aunt Jackie’s got two guys in Hummers to take her out every day.” Sienna’s tone veered toward whining. “Why won’t my guys take me out? I just want to go shopping.”
Aunt Paola gave Uncle Gino a pointed look. She would never speak up in front of others, but Rose guessed they’d had words in private.
Gino looked to Aunt Jackie. “You been going out? Every day?”
“I want to pass the Realtor exam, I gotta go to class,” Jackie said. The look in her eye dared him to suggest that he could decide these matters for her.
“Max wouldn’t like you taking chances,” Gino grumbled.
But if he had known, via Frank, and not stopped her, Gino must like it. The thought frightened Rose.
“A widow makes her own decisions,” Nonna said. All heads turned and looked at her.
Angelo took the opening. “We’re taking measures. I send a bunch of cars out, only one has Ma in it. When they split up, anybody watching don’t know which one to follow. And so far, no tails.”
No, Rose thought. That’s how we’ve been going out. Has Jackie been staying in? She drank half her glass of wine before catching herself.
“See?” Maji jumped in, elbowing her boyfriend. “Just put me in one of the other cars.”
Angelo almost winced. “Babe, that’s really not my call.”
“Fine. Then I’ll just move out.”
Angelo started to object, but Gino stopped him with one raised palm. “I’d really rather you stayed here,” he said slowly and clearly, directing his words and look to Maji.
Rose watched Maji pale as the message sank in. “I hear you.”
As Ri, she bordered between insolent and deferential. Gino looked as though he was weighing whether to use threats or geniality in response.
Angelo didn’t wait for Gino’s reaction. “Look, let’s get a bag and some gloves, set her up here. There’s room downstairs, right?” he asked his uncle. “You should learn some moves, Sienna. Ri could teach you.”
“What, like self-defense?”
“Then I’ll need mats, and striking pads, too,” Maji responded, as if Sienna hadn’t spoken. “And a red suit for one of the guys to wear.”
“Let’s do it!” Rose said, looking to Sienna.
Sienna seemed torn between gratitude that the cool kids were inviting her to join them, and some deep reluctance. She peeked sideways at Ricky. “Well…”
“Oh, come on,” Jackie said. “You do it, I’ll do it. Teach us how to kick some ass, Ri.”
Maji looked from Jackie to Sienna, and from Sienna to Rose, with a final glance at Gino, who gave her a Why not? look in return. She twisted in her chair to eyeball Angelo. “Fine. Order us a gym.”
Rose noted that Angelo looked immensely pleased with himself.
The next morning, Rose was surprised when Maji woke her even earlier than normal and told her to dress for camp. Downstairs, Dev briefed Maji on the quiet night watch. They passed on Dev’s offer of coffee, skipped breakfast, and hurried out of the house via the back door, jogging to the tree line.
“I thought we were going out in the decoy parade,” Rose said, following Maji as closely as she could without tripping over her.
“Not anymore,” Maji replied, her attention on their surroundings.
Of course, Rose realized—Gino would assume they were abiding by his wishes and staying inside the estate, waiting for self-defense equipment to arrive. And so would Sienna, who seemed more aware of their comings and goings than Rose had given her credit for. So much playacting to keep a few family members in the dark about their whereabouts. Angelo clearly didn’t think they were all on the same side.
As instructed, Rose followed the odd meandering path that Maji chose. Their pattern of movement seemed almost random. Was this a drill, or could they really reach the boathouse this way without being caught on camera? Maybe they were going to sail to class.
Between the boathouse and the perimeter wall, a short stretch of chain-link fence extended into the water. High tide on the Sound. Maji was on the other side of it before Rose could ask, Where now? She coached Rose up and over and caught her when she wobbled on the hop down.
“Thanks,” Rose said, almost sorry to stand on her own when Maji’s hands let go of her. Then she turned and saw the motorbike. But…“Your bike is out front, isn’t it?”
“Like a good decoy. This is Hannah’s.” Maji handed her a helmet and slipped her own on.
Rose smiled. Even without coffee, she felt wide-awake and ready for adventure. With Maji, she could sometimes forget how serious the game they were playing really was. “Do we get to steal a car, too?”
“Borrow.” Maji gave her a hint of a smile and swung a leg over the bike, motioning for Rose to climb on behind her. “Not today.”
* * *
The day had gone so smoothly, it almost made Maji nervous. She recalled the bike ride to the dojo with guilty pleasure. Rose’s hands pressed against her belly, her thighs against Maji’s butt, were a distraction. But not a dangerous one. They had reached the dojo before everyone else except Hannah, who folded clean towels in the laundry room while Rose made coffee and Maji pulled the remainder of yesterday’s snacks out of the fridge for breakfast. Rose had said something nice about the odd meal. What exactly? Didn’t matter, it was classic Rose graciousness, served up with a twinkle in those eyes.
And then the kids had arrived as they finished eating, full of their usual exuberance. Everyone maintained their good mood, even during the sit-down debriefs and discussion of the scenarios, which had been scary for several of them. But their comfort zones had increased along with their self-confidence, to a girl. Bayani had lost her defensiveness, and Dimah had come out of her shell, even taken off her headscarf indoors, a sign she accepted the all-female dojo as home. Some changes on the surface; others Maji knew didn’t show but were just as profound.
Hannah and Angelo could have decided not to let her return to camp this summer. And then she would have missed so much. She hoped the equipment Angelo ordered for training at home took a while to arrive. As Rose had pointed out, every day here felt like a gift.
Now, as they circled up to bow out, Hannah added to her standard parting the six words Maji always dreaded hearing. “Instructors, please stay and see me.” Had she and Rose come in today just for closure?
Maji, Bubbles, Tanya, and Christy stood awkwardly in the hallway, waiting for the summons to Hannah’s office. Rose seemed to be taking her time in the locker room, no doubt uncertain of her place with them.
“Come in,” Hannah instructed the back belts loitering in the hall. “And please ask Rose to join us.”
Bubbles reached the locker room door first and stuck her head in. “Doc! Sensei wants you, too.”
None of them tried to sit in the little office, but stood shoulder to shoulder by the wall across from Hannah’s desk. Maji watched Rose enter and notice that she could see through that wall, into the mat room. Rose masked her surprise admirably, finding a corner to stand in by the door, near Bubbles.
Hannah stood, looking up slightly at all five of them. “Off and on this week, we will have a visitor. As you know, I do not allow recording or photos in the dojo, and normally no observers. This will be an exception.”
No. Maji’s stomach clenched. Sharing camp with Iris would be worse than staying home. Maji wanted to slam out of the too small space, but four bodies stood between her and the door.
“Iris Fineman, as you know, was held hostage in Fallujah last fall, and freed by a small group of soldiers. She wants to do a follow-up story on the female soldier, Sergeant Ariela Rios.”
“So?” Bubbles said. “Too bad.”
A chunk of gratitude caught in Maji’s throat. Even if it was too late. Arguing with Hannah was pointless.
“It’s time, and this is a controllable environment,” Hannah resp
onded to the outburst, her voice firm and level. She looked at Tanya and Christy. “Ms. Fineman knows our Maji as Sergeant Rios, or Ri, as her Army friends call her.”
“I knew it!” Tanya burst out, elbowing Christy. “You owe me twenty bucks.”
Christy twisted to look at Maji. “Wow. Really?”
Maji nodded. “Yeah.” Looking to Hannah, she asked, “So how’s this going to work?”
“As simply as possible. Ms. Fineman arrives, observes, and leaves town. If she needs to stay on Long Island, she stays with me.”
Where Hannah can see her, Maji thought. Good.
“In our room?” Bubbles sounded ready to pop. “With our stuff?”
Hannah tilted her head, a small tell of wearing patience. “Of course not. Everything there, as here, will be stripped of Maji’s history. As far as she knows, only Ri exists.”
“But…” Rose began and, when Hannah did not stop her, said, “we all call her Maji here.”
“Yeah. So why doesn’t the Army?” Christy asked.
Maji raised one brow. “Mom.”
“Oh…right.”
Bubbles leaned forward. “And no fucking way is that woman finding out about Neda.”
“Hey,” Maji said and wove her way over to her best friend. She put an arm around her and felt her take a shaky breath. “Everybody’s safe here.” Maji let her go and stood next to the desk, where she could see the others’ faces. “I didn’t want the kids knowing my history in Iraq, so you all call me Maji. That’s all Iris needs to know.”
“I have already explained this to Ms. Fineman. I gave her permission to use Ri as a nickname, if she must.”
“Says Rios on my locker,” Maji reminded them. “The kids will get it.”
Rose raised her hand, and Hannah nodded to her. “What will the kids think Iris is doing here?”
“A story on women teaching self-defense to the next generation,” Hannah replied. “With no names or photos used without their permission.”
“Won’t they be disappointed when the story isn’t published?” Tanya asked.