A broad waiting room, polished wooden floor, grand paintings and furniture. Filled with waiting agents, politicos, advisors and civil set- vants, most deep in discussion or engrossed in ongoing dialogue with their portable terminals. All fell silent as the new pair entered. Footsteps soft on the broad carpet, then squeaking on the wood before the door. The door handle clacked, deafening in the sudden silence. And drowned, abruptly, by the harsh exchange of voices from the room beyond.
Senate Chamber 5-C was like the Senate Hearing Chamber in miniature. Seven senators were seated behind a long, wood-panelled bench. Before the senators, seats for the accused. Although, Sandy thought as the adjutant closed the doors behind them, they probably didn't call them that. Half of the argument stopped as they came in. The other half lingered, in forceful self absorption. Sandy walked the aisle through the small seating gallery and stood before the accuseds' benches. Vanessa joined her. The last argument died a surprised, fading death. Senators, officials and agents stared at them. Sandy stood at ease, and felt decidedly unimpressed with the entire situation.
"Agent Kresnov," she announced flatly, "reporting as ordered."
"Ms. Kresnov." The head senator blinked. Reorienting his brain, evidently, away from the recent argument. Several senators regained their seats. Most were staring. To Sandy and Vanessa's right, Ulu N'Darie, CSA second-in-command, was scowling furiously. Another woman, tall and blonde, folded her arms and looked stonily unpleasant. Izerovski, Sandy remembered, with less than glee. The head of SIB, in her natural, political environment. Oh Joy.
Then she spotted Naidu among the other agents scattered about and felt a little better.
"Ms. Kresnov," Izerovski said coldly, "where is your guard?" Sandy just looked at her. Waiting for that cryptic remark to be more fully explained. There was no hurry.
"I'm her guard," Vanessa said. And Sandy reconsidered the wisdom of letting Vanessa do the talking.
"You, Lieutenant Rice, are most certainly not a suitable guard. You are her partner. You have demonstrated yourself to be nearly the threat to peace and civil security tonight that she has. I have two good SIB agents in hospital, each with severe gunshot wounds to both legs, and the shooter is walking free about the corridors of power, fully armed by the look of her, and accompanied by her partner in crime. Senators, this is a disgraceful indication of the depths to which CSA policy regarding this particular individual have sunk-she is utterly out of control, and the CSA ..
"You grandstanding, two-faced fucking liar!" N'Darie exploded.
"... And the CSA," Izerovski continued loudly, "are so completely lost and desperate in their present messed-up situation that they've just given her the keys to the castle, and this is the result ..."
"Who caught the damn bomber, you lunatic?" N'Darie retorted. "SIB's only contribution is to open fire in a public space upon the one person genuinely attempting to apprehend the suspect ...
"After she caused a major traffic accident in which three innocent civilians were needlessly injured, and refused to account for her activities when requested ...
"So she needs to report her every movement for SIB's approval, even when the damn SIBs haven't a lucid clue what the hell's going on?"
"That's exactly right, Ms. N'Darie. By order of this here panel of senators, she does need to report her every movement to the SIB, and I've now got two good agents in hospital who will gladly tell you why!"
"You don't get it, do you?" N'Darie stood barely taller than Vanessa, small, black and compact. At that moment, she seemed much larger, as if swelling with rage. "Your agents owe their lives to this woman!" Pointing at Sandy with a trembling finger. "Any CSA agent under an unprovoked attack is fully authorised to kill in self defence. She refrained-does your tiny, manicured brain comprehend that much? She shot to wound, when she was perfectly entitled to blow their fucking heads off, and that's far more restraint than I've seen from your people whose only provocation was that she didn't tell them what she was doing, which they by all indications wouldn't have understood anyway, because all you goddamn SIBs are just too fucking STUPID!"
The room exploded, a yelling racket above the repeated hammerings of the chairman's gavel.
"Bit of bad blood here?" Sandy suggested, formulating internally.
Vanessa raised an eyebrow, as little perturbed by the racket as Sandy. "No worse than one of my family reunions."
Sandy smiled. "Remind me never to meet your family."
"You never do, you're always surfing. "
Under repeated assault from the chairman's gavel, the noise began to recede. Another few whacks, and it died completely.
"Wish I was surfing now, actually," Sandy remarked.
"I wish you were surfing, too. "
"People!" The chairman's dark face was angrily disapproving. "Remember where you are!"
"They do," Vanessa muttered, "that's the damn problem."
Sandy noticed an SIB agent's head turning in their direction, eyes curious, sensed a faint pulse of passive frequency scan ... "We're hawked, better keep the conversation verbal. You know the emergency freq. "
"Gotcha. " Vanessa disconnected.
"Ms. Kresnov," said another senator. Kier, his name panel read. Seated two chairs to her right, facing her-that side was Union, including the chairman. Except for the very end-he was Democrat, one of the minor Senate parties. Even worse. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
"I suppose that depends upon what I'm asked," Sandy said mildly. The woman alongside, Senator Zhu, was staring, greatly disconcerted. Well, Sandy supposed, this was most likely the first time any of these senators had seen her at this range. She wondered what Zhu found most disconcerting-her good looks, or her mere proximity.
"Why is she even armed?" the Democrats senator interrupted, as if reading her thoughts. Senator Rafael, Sandy read. Lean and darkly bearded, of uncertain ethnicity. He sounded alarmed. He looked alarmed, eyes wide and nervous lipped.
"I am a CSA agent, Senator," Sandy replied before Vanessa could muster some remark that might cost her a promotion.
"That, Ms. Kresnov, is a matter for serious debate," Senator Rafael retorted.
"This panel has no jurisdiction over internal CSA policy," N'Darie replied from the right, sounding somewhat more composed. "Agent Kresnov's present work is invaluable, and is recognised as such by all the relevant experts within the field ..."
"At what cost, Ms. N'Darie?" erupted Rafael, with great agitation. "We have here a killer on the loose ... Just look! Everywhere she goes, we have gunfire and explosions and people getting shot!"
"So stop shooting at her," Vanessa said coldly.
"Lieutenant Rice," Chairman Rasso said loudly, "I must warn you ...
"Of what? This woman is my friend, dammit. You've ordered the SIB to line her up in their target sights, and if she twitches, you open fire. The SIB are so incompetent at basic weaponry that this order effectively makes them a menace to civil society, which makes all of you a menace to civil society. We have legal advice looking into it right now, we'll be making a formal securities submission under Article 23 of the recently activated Security Act 91, and judge Guderjaal will arrive at his recommendation in a day or two. At present, the odds look good that your present orders to the SIB are unconstitutional and unsafe. Keep at it long enough, and you'll be in jail. Ms. Izerovski included."
Five people started shouting at once. Izerovski overrode them all, her voice carrying most clearly above the racket-"... have submitted our own recommendation with regards to Section Five Subsection A of Security Act 91, and have obtained a temporary suspension of duty upon this dangerous killer, taking her out of CSA active duty effective immediately, do you understand that, Lieutenant Rice?" Reaching for a paper upon a nearby senator's desk, and waving it before them.
Sandy looked at N'Darie, and saw dark frustration, but no surprise. So that was what they'd been arguing about earlier. Izerovski glared, with triumphant confidence.
"The suspension will continu
e for a period of one week, while the SIB continue our investigation into Ms. Kresnov and her place within the present CSA structure-and into the commands and instructions from her superiors that have placed her into this position of uncontrolled influence and roving power. This order has been signed by justice Guderjaal himself. Ms. Kresnov, I require you now to hand over your sidearm and your badge, immediately."
A pair of SIB agents approached.
"You can't do this," Vanessa said harshly, stepping forward. "She was appointed to CSA under Security Act 91. You can't just override a special powers emergency!"
"Section Five, Subsection A, Lieutenant-as was explained to Ms. Kresnov just earlier today, after she had recklessly disabled a government vehicle with a League military attack barrier. Her continued legal status as a Callayan citizen is conditional upon her continued non-threatening good behaviour. If sufficient evidence is compiled that this condition has indeed been broken by Ms. Kresnov, the clause allows for a suspensionof a period to be determined by justice Guderjaal himself-of that status, pending further investigation by the relevant authority, meaning the SIB. Such evidence is not now difficult to find."
The pair of SIB agents stood before Sandy. Both looked tense. The eyes of the man on the right flicked repeatedly in Vanessa's direction. Sandy ignored them both, studying the faces of the seven senators, watching from the safe, comforting distance of their bench. The varying expressions. The concern. The fear. A moment passed.
"So nice to see I'm going to get a fair, impartial hearing," Sandy said into that silence. There was no reply. In her peripheral vision, she could see N'Darie standing silently, dark and brooding.
"Ms. Kresnov," said the agent before her, "your weapon please." Extending a hand, intrusively near.
"That's Agent Kresnov to you, dickhead," Vanessa snarled, "and you keep the hell out of her face ..."
"Ricey!" Sandy said sharply. Vanessa shut up, fuming. Sandy reached into her jacket and drew the pistol from her holster. Checked the safety, and handed it to the agent, grip first. The badge followed, in the dark leather binder. And Sandy was surprised to feel the regret so strongly as the SIB agent checked both gun and badge and tucked them away for safekeeping.
The SIBs drew away, back to Izerovski's side. Sandy stood where she was, at military ease, eyeing the Senate Panel with expressionless distaste. On the right, a senator named Hamata alone looked displeased and guarded. Progress Party on that side of the bench. The others ... just watched her. Tense, as if awaiting the explosion. And satisfied at her disarming.
"Ms. Kresnov," said Chairman Rasso carefully into the strained silence. Aware, perhaps, that senior CSA were present, and watching. Sandy could sense Naidu's eyes boring into the chairman's skull. His lips were pressed thin with disgust. N'Darie just fumed. "You will now inform this panel as to the precise events that led you to the riverfront at Lagosso this evening. Following that, you will inform this panel of precisely the events of earlier today when you launched your attack barrier assault upon the SIB cruiser."
"No," said Sandy. "I won't."
"I might remind you ..." Izerovski began loudly, but Rasso cut her off.
"Ms. Izerovski, please, this is a Senate matter." Izerovski swallowed her tongue with difficulty. Rasso turned his flat African gaze back to Sandy. "Ms. Kresnov, I will remind you that you are, as of this moment, no longer technically a member of the CSA. Your benefits of Callayan citizenship are also under suspension. CSA internal operating codes can no longer protect you from this panel's questions, you are just another member of the public as far as this chamber is concerned. Now, you will answer the questions, or you will face legal consequences."
Sandy gazed at him.
"I have nothing to say to you. You are a security risk."
Rasso stared at her. "I beg your pardon?"
"Senator, whether I'm in the CSA or not, I remain a CSA resource. I have an enormous quantity of classified knowledge. I think you'll find that the CSA charter has precedence here."
"Ms. Kresnov ..."
"You're neither required nor permitted by the laws of the CSA charter to say anything to these clowns, Cassandra," N'Darie said calmly. She looked even a little pleased, in a furious, glowering sort of way. "I'm glad to see you've done your reading."
"Yessir." Calm and military. Whatever the discomfort it provoked on the Senate bench.
"Ms. N'Darie," Senator Rafael said with great exasperation, "I must say that I find the GSA's obstructive and undemocratic manner extremely disturbing. I believe that your conduct, in particular, here today has been disgraceful."
"As has yours, Senator," N'Darie retorted. "This entire panel is a disgrace, and we're going to take whatever legal action is required to put all of you back into your little box ..."
"How DARE you speak in such a manner in here!" Rasso erupted, leaping to his feet. "How DARE you continue to ..."
"The next time some fuckhead blows up half a Tanushan city block," N'Darie yelled at him, "we'll just let the bastard go, huh?! THAT's what you're proposing! Great God almighty, we have terrorists in this city blowing things up and killing people, and your only concern is to try and kill the one person who's in a decent position to stop them! Well, the next lunatic ideologue who comes along looking to blow things up, I hope to GOD he comes this way and gets this damn building first, because he'll be doing this entire forsaken planet an enormous favour!
"Agents. We're leaving." And with that she turned and stormed out, Naidu and the other CSA staff in tow.
"ASSISTANT DIRECTOR!" Rasso bellowed at their departing backs. "You come back here right this very moment, or I'll see you all held in contempt of this Senate!"
"There's not enough contempt in the WORLD, Mr. Rasso!" N'Darie yelled over her shoulder, and banged out the double doors. Sandy and Vanessa followed them out. As she left, Sandy caught one last sight of Izerovski, tall and blonde, arms imperiously folded in triumphant satisfaction at the departure of those unworthy heathens who ran before the might of her glorious, democratic institution.
Into the basement parking bay, through the shielded VIP corridor. Onto the reception apron, and the vehicle convoy was already waiting. Three black government cruisers with shielded windows, engines active.
"Kresnov, Rice," said N'Darie, "with me. We'll send someone to pick up your cruiser later." Short legs striding toward the centre vehicle, one escort heading for the front seat while the others dispersed to the support cruisers. The interior was large, with opposing seats. N'Darie took the rear and Naidu sat beside her, Sandy and Vanessa settling opposite. Doors whined closed and the engines powered up, transmission frequencies crackling with secure clearances, a steady flow of official code. Only when the convoy was airborne did N'Darie speak.
"That went badly." Flatly. Fixed Sandy with a sombre gaze. "But we weren't left with a choice. They want to fight, and we can't let them screw us, they've got no more legal authority than we do under present arrangements. We had to punch back."
"Yessir," Sandy said calmly. The Tanushan city lights were nearly as bright at 3:30 in the morning as they had been earlier that evening. Below and to the side, the Parliamentary complex fell away behind. A sprawling splendour of red arches and central domes. Congress House. The Senate building beyond the adjoining length of lawn, divided from Congress by the Mistal, a slim, meandering off-branch of the Shoban. Further beyond, and completing the central triangle, the Parliament building, with its multiple, flaring wings-including the rear wing, now famous for all the wrong reasons. The repairs, Sandy had heard, were still ongoing.
The three arms of power. One of them held the SIB's ear. The CSA, supposedly, answered straight to the top. Which raised the question ...
"Sir ... where is Chief Grey? I'd have thought he'd be present."
"It's just one attack, Cassandra," N'Darie replied. "He's busy."
Sandy glanced at Naidu. Naidu's lips pursed-noncommittal. She didn't like it.
N'Darie reached into a pocket and withdrew a car
d. "Take this," she said, handing it over. "Security pass. Not as good as your old ID, but it'll get you in and out. In an unofficial capacity." Sandy looked at it. It certainly didn't look as good as her old leather-bound badge. Just a plastic tag to pin on her jacket.
"I'm still working with the CSA?" she asked.
"Of course you are. They can mess about with official titles as much as they like, they can't stop you working. And they can't stop us choosing to place our authority with whomever we like. That's internal policy, and that's none of their business."
But it was Benjamin Grey's business. And he'd been absent. As State Security Chief, the CSA was directly answerable to him, and he to the President. It was more official power than the SIB had. But the Senate, apparently, had so many political levers to pull with the President's Administration ... Grey hadn't been there. The CSA and the SIB were having a screaming row that threatened to sever even cordial working relations, and Grey had something more important.
She spared another glance at Naidu. Naidu met her eyes briefly. And gave a faint, warning shake of his head.
"We're going to get this sorted out, Sandy," N'Darie said firmly, not seeing that gesture. Sandy blinked. It was the first time, to her memory, that N'Darie had used the nickname. "This is real lunatic stuff. Every damn politician is looking at the polling numbers and trying to figure how much noise to make about you. Those morons are getting real cocky right now, they're pushing real hard. We just have to ride it out."
"Yessir, I understand that. In fact, I was ... kind of thinking." An old idea of hers, half-formed at best. One that she'd been meaning to bring up for a while now, but hadn't had the opportunity.
"Kind of thinking," repeated N'Darie. "Huh. What about?"
"What if I spoke to someone? Maybe some of the senators, or the congressors? The marginal ones?"
Breakaway: A Cassandra Kresnov Novel (v1.1) Page 14