Swordfish

by Andrea Bramhall

  “Yeah, I do. If I didn’t and left Dad and Junior up in the cold with you, they’d never let me live it down.” Oz kissed her softly, murmuring her pleasure at the soft lips, and warm mouth—until it disappeared with an audible pop.

  “What? Your dad and Junior are coming too?”

  “Yup.”

  “Why?”

  “’Cause you’re family and we keep our family safe.” Oz kissed her gently on the forehead. “I know you need to do this. You’re right. You’re the only one who can do this the right way. But I need to keep you out of harm’s way as much as possible. I can’t think of any other way to do that than be by your side every step of the way.”

  “Thank you.” She reached up and kissed her again.

  “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  Finn chuckled. “I would expect nothing less.” She patted Oz’s belly as she pulled away. “So what’s your plan?”

  “My plan?”

  “Don’t try playing dumb with me, Zuckerman. You, your dad, and your cousin must have a plan in mind or your dad wouldn’t be on red alert. Spill.”

  “So demanding.”

  Finn crossed her arms and waited.

  “Fine. We don’t have anything specific, other than we’re going to be your security team. I think I like Valkyrie Security as the name of your new personal security agency. Uncle Charlie’s squared it all away with Junior’s commander, and his team is on standby in case we need more backup. Andrew Whittaker is our Interpol liaison for this operation, and we’ll be meeting with the CIA guy too. The one who interviewed you, Stephen Knight.”

  Finn nodded. He’d been nice enough when he interviewed her. She’d actually thought it was him at her door on Thanksgiving when Whittaker turned up; the two looked so alike they could easily pass for brothers. “And your dad?”

  “What? Oh, yeah. He’s got clearance from Mom to come play.”

  “Funny. I mean he’s been retired for how long now?”

  “Almost ten years.”

  “Is he…I mean he’s not exactly…can he…”

  Oz laughed. “He’s more than capable of doing what we need to do here, baby. Besides, he’s probably going to be running comms, cameras, and intel gathering. He knows what all our strengths and weaknesses are, and he was a damn fine operational commander before he retired. We’re in safe hands, baby.”

  Finn blushed. “Okay. Sorry.”

  “No need to be sorry with me. You might want to start running when I tell him you questioned his physical prowess.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  Oz smiled. “That sounded like a challenge.”

  “Oh God.” Finn closed her eyes and tipped her head back, offering a silent prayer. “You could try the patience of a saint.”

  “I’ve been told that before.” She wiggled her eyebrows comically.

  “So let me get this straight. Your uncle, Rear Admiral Charles Zuckerman, base commander at Key West, has managed to get authorization to use two retired naval officers and a serving SEAL on a mission that’s supposed to be run by the CIA and Interpol.”

  “Yup.”

  “How?”

  “I didn’t ask that, and even if I had, Uncle Charlie never would have told me the favors he’s pulled in to make this work. All I know is that he has friends in very high places, and when he brought this to them, they gave him authority to do whatever needs to be done to eliminate the threat to national security.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, we’re all in this with you. So tell me about the lab. How big is it? How many staff work there? Where is it situated exactly? Other than the frozen Northern Wastelands.”

  Finn laughed. “It’s New York City, hardly frozen, barren wastelands. Is this your research?”

  “Yup. And I didn’t say barren. But since you mention it, I plan on being ready for anything.”

  She stretched up to kiss her, wrapping her arms around her neck. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. And you’re never alone.”

  Chapter Four

  Bailey sipped her double espresso and waited for the caffeine to hit her system. She didn’t drink the scalding liquid anymore for flavor alone. She needed it to function. She only hoped her mark would stay at the café long enough for her to finish her intake before he took off again. She slumped back against the aluminum mesh chair digging uncomfortably against the backs of her thighs and hoped no one questioned her sanity for sitting outside. But despite the fact that it was December and she was in the middle of Boston, the day was fine and the sun shone brightly, if not warmly, and it would be all too soon before they were chased inside again by the weather. She was determined to enjoy whatever outside time she could get, even if it did make her arthritic knees ache.

  She paid close attention to the door of the café, making sure that her target hadn’t left, while taking a few photographs of the surrounding area. It was good cover—playing tourist—taking a few shots of the parks to her right. Blackstone Square was beside her, just across the road, and Franklin Square was diagonally across the intersection. She pretended to be taking pictures of the trees, maybe a bird or two, chirping away. She didn’t know. Hell, she didn’t care. It was good cover and that was all that mattered. If need be there was always the Salvation Army building across the street with its memorial stone at the top. Whatever it took, just like always.

  She turned her chair so she was facing Blackstone Square. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the man she was following inside, with his arm draped over a young female student. She knew the girl was a student because she was one of his students. Bailey had followed them from the high school where he taught, and she was sickened by the implications of what she was seeing. So far he hadn’t behaved in a way that would seem out of the ordinary for a father toward his daughter. But that sure as hell wasn’t his daughter. So much for his wife’s suspicion that he was cheating on her.

  Mrs. Marsden had called Bailey two days prior, crying, and convinced that her husband was seeing someone else. She was worried he was going to leave her for his mystery woman while she was heavily pregnant.

  You’re better off without him. She swallowed another mouthful of her rapidly cooling coffee and shot another couple of pictures. There’s not much I haven’t seen, Mr. Marsden, but you and your ilk really make me sick. She pulled a notepad out of the pocket of her overcoat and scribbled down a few notes. She knew she wouldn’t need to refer to the pad again; the simple act of actually writing the information down committed it to her memory. But if she didn’t write it down, she could guarantee she’d forget something important somewhere down the line. It was a habit that had been ingrained over many years of training, first as a cop, then as an FBI field agent working sex crimes.

  She had a good view of what was happening inside the café, and she could see the bastard’s hand touch the girl’s knee under the table. Bailey clenched her teeth and stayed in her seat, barely. If she was going to make it concrete and stop this guy from trying this again, she needed more than him touching a kid’s knee.

  The girl jumped up from the table, spilling her drink across the surface and covering Mr. Marsden with it as she dashed for the door. Bailey stood quickly, her knees complaining, and moved in front of the scared girl who bolted from the café. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I saw what happened in there,” she said, pointing into the café, “and I want to make sure you get home safe and sound.”

  “Yeah, right. How am I supposed to believe a total stranger? He’s been my teacher all semester and he’s just turned out to be a disgusting prick.”

  “You’re right. You have absolutely no reason to trust me, and he is a disgusting prick. I’ll offer you another option then. One that doesn’t involve you telling me any information, or moving away from here with me.” She fished her cell phone out of her pocket and held it out to the girl. “Call home and have someone come pick you up. I’ll wait with you until someone comes to get you. Someone called Mom, Dad, or a l
egal guardian, though. Not your BFF, or your boyfriend, or anything like that.”

  The girl stared reluctantly at the phone. “My mom’ll go ape shit at me being here.”

  “Well.” Bailey shrugged. “I can see her point, and after what happened in there, I’m pretty sure you can understand why.”

  The girl sighed. “I guess.”

  “Cheryl, there was no need to run out.” Mr. Marsden stepped outside and smiled at Bailey. “It was just an accident. Why don’t you come back inside and I’ll get you another drink?”

  “No, thanks.” Cheryl took the phone from Bailey’s hand and quickly dialed the number. “Mom, can you come get me please?” She paused and turned her back on Mr. Marsden, clearly dismissing him. “No, I’m not in trouble, but something’s happened and I need you to come get me.”

  “Cheryl, what are you doing?” Marsden said.

  Bailey stepped closer to him, towering over him. “I’d keep very quiet if I were you.”

  Marsden bristled. “Do I know you?”

  “No. But you’re going to.” She took a step forward and he inched back, trying to shrink away from her.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Bailey laughed. “Sure you do. I can see the fear in your eyes. Sweat on your forehead, upper lip.” His legs met the edge of the chair she’d been sitting on and it skittered across the pavement as she got closer to him and poked one finger into his chest. He flinched and raised his hand to protect himself, clearly fearing what punishment she was going to dole out. She smiled. Years of interrogations had led her to perfect a feral grin that seemed to scare even the hardest of men she’d come across, and she let it loose on Mr. Marsden with pride. “Shallow breathing and there’s a vein at your temple that’s throbbing at about a hundred and sixty a minute. I’m guessing you feel a little dizzy right about now. Like the whole world is closing in on you.” She inched closer so they were nose to nose. “And you know what, buddy? It is. Now sit down and don’t move.” She pushed him easily and suppressed a laugh as he dropped heavily into the chair like a pin had been pulled from his knees. Pathetic little weasel.

  “My mom said she’d come right away. We live pretty far from here though so it’s gonna take her a while.” She handed the phone back to Bailey.

  “Not a problem.” She ushered the girl a little away from the shaking man and spoke quietly. “Want to tell me why you came here with him?”

  “He said he was gonna help me with an extra credit assignment. That it would give me a better chance at getting into college if I got a good grade, and he said he thought I was worth the effort. He said he didn’t want other students to think he was playing favorites though, so we needed to go away from school. He said he’d give me a lift close to home afterward, so that I wouldn’t get into trouble with anyone.”

  “I have to call the police.”

  “No way.”

  “Please, listen a second.” Cheryl opened her mouth to argue, but Bailey stared at her and had to stifle a laugh when the girl’s mouth closed, her teeth clicking together loudly. “Thank you. Now, the reason I have to call them is this. He’s a predator. A predator after young girls, and he works in a school filled with them. The story he told you was practiced. He’s done this before, and if I don’t report it, he’ll do it again. Next time, the girl might not be as lucky as you’ve been today.”

  “I hear ya, but I don’t want everyone at school to know.”

  “They don’t have to know anything you don’t want to tell them. The school will be happy to keep this quiet, believe me. You can control that. All you’re going to have to do is tell the police what you’ve told me, and answer their questions.”

  “They’re gonna think I’m stupid.”

  “Why?”

  “For believing him.”

  “No, they won’t. He’s the adult here, and he’s earned your trust and respect in a position of authority. He’s abused that.”

  Marsden clambered to his feet and took off. He ran awkwardly, and Bailey caught up to him in half a dozen long strides, twisted one arm up his back, and spun him into the wall.

  “I told you not to move.”

  “Let me go. You don’t know what you’re talking about. The kid’s lying if she said I touched her.” He tried to shrug her off, but Bailey wasn’t going anywhere.

  “She hasn’t said that. I saw it.”

  He stopped struggling. “Fuck.”

  “Cheryl, my cell phone’s in my coat pocket. Can you get it and call nine one one?”

  “What do I say?” She pulled the phone out and dialed.

  “Just tell them what happened.”

  Cheryl was pale and shaky as she explained what had happened and the reality of what could have happened seemed to sink in. She dropped heavily into a chair and waited. A waitress came out of the café and asked if she could help.

  “Thanks, but the police are already on their way. Cheryl here called for me. Maybe you can get her some sweet tea, and if you have any cable ties in there that would be great.” Bailey smiled at the young woman.

  “I’ll see what we can find.”

  “Thanks. Cheryl?” Bailey looked over at the girl and noted the shivering body, slumped shoulders, and the glassy-eyed look. “Cheryl? Hey, kid, come on, listen to me.”

  Cheryl blinked and made an obvious effort to focus on Bailey. “Don’t call me kid.”

  Bailey smiled. That’s better. “You got it.”

  “What did you want?”

  “I need you to pull that chair around for me.” She indicated a toppled chair. “If the waitress can find some cable ties, I’m gonna secure him to it until the police get here. How long did they say they’d be?” Bailey knew they’d have uniformed officers there in about ten minutes, but she needed to keep Cheryl focused and not thinking about what could have happened. She wanted to stop her from going into shock.

  “They didn’t say how long, just that someone would be here soon.” She picked up the chair Bailey had pointed to. “You really gonna tie him up?”

  “Hell yes, I am.”

  “You can’t do that, bitch. I’ve got rights.” Marsden struggled again.

  “So you do.” Bailey twisted his arm a little further up his back and used her body weight to press him harder against the wall forcing the wind from him. That ought to shut you up, you sorry son of a bitch. “And so does Cheryl. She has the right to tell the police and the school exactly what you tried to do here today. And I’m exercising my right as a concerned citizen to give her the opportunity to do that.”

  The waitress came out balancing a tray expertly on one hand. “Here you go, ladies. One cup of tea, and I’m afraid I couldn’t find any cable ties, but I found some duct tape in the back. Will that do?” She grinned at Bailey.

  Bailey laughed and pushed Marsden into the chair. “Oh yeah. That’ll do.” She gripped his wrists against the metal arms. “Cheryl, would you like to do the honors?”

  Cheryl nodded and reached for the tape, wrapping it securely around the mid forearm and the metal. Bailey was glad to see her hands had almost stopped shaking completely by the time she was wrapping his second arm.

  “Legs too, Cheryl. Then he can’t try to run with this big ol’ chair stuck to his butt.”

  Cheryl giggled as she started to bind his calves.

  “I’m gonna sue you pair of bitches.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Bailey leaned closer to his ear. “Better men than you have come up with worse threats than that, and you know what?”

  He didn’t answer, but he met her eyes and waited.

  “I’m still here. Still takin’ out the trash.”

  His lip curled and she could see him working the saliva in his mouth.

  “Don’t even think about spitting at me. If you do, I’ll have Cheryl put a nice big chunk of that tape over your mouth. And let me tell you, it hurts like a son of a bitch pulling this stuff off skin.”

  He paused, obviously weighing how serious her thre
at was, then swallowed visibly.

  “Good boy.”

  “Can I help you ladies with anything else?” the waitress asked.

  “We’re good, thanks.”

  “Well, if you need anything I’ll be just inside. I’m Rachel, by the way.” She held her hand out.

  Bailey glanced at her and slowly stood to her full height. She gripped Rachel’s hand. “Bailey. And thanks for your help.”

  “Sure, sure. Anytime. I never liked the look of that guy. He’s creepy.” She dipped her head and smiled before heading back inside. Bailey dropped into the chair next to Cheryl and watched as she sipped her tea.

  “Was she hitting on you?”

  Bailey chuckled. “I think she was just being friendly.”

  “Uh huh.” She put the cup back on the table. “I think she was hitting on you.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Not your type?”

  Bailey was glad that Cheryl was distracted. She just wished she’d found a different source of distraction. “A little young for me, I think.”

  “Well, she didn’t seem to think so. Didn’t you think she was cute?”

  “Well, I guess.”

  “So, go get her number.”

  “Maybe later.”

  “That’s old people talk for ‘no, now shut up.’” Cheryl shrugged. “Whatever.”

  Bailey laughed again. “Thanks, kid.”

  “Hey, I told you not to call me that.” Cheryl scowled at her and Bailey smirked.

  “Then don’t call people old.”

  “Excuse me, but you called yourself old.”