by Loki Renard
Ethan tabbed through a few sections and peered intensely at the monitor. “Nothing to worry about. Just a drunk and disorderly.” He grinned at his own impending joke. “When she’s not solving advanced equations, Zora likes to party.”
“Well she’s not going to be partying for a while,” Savage said grimly.
***
It was midday and Zora had not moved from the futon. Both she and her pounding head agreed that it wasn’t worth the hassle. The depressing news had given way to infomercials. Whilst she watched an elderly couple wax poetic about the joys of shoving whole fruit into a juicer, Zora found herself wondering if there was any point to it all. Had the species really emerged from the primordial sludge only to spend their days looking for another shiny plastic device to clutter up the counter?
Her stomach growled. She was hungry. If she’d had one of those juicer things she could have prepared nutritious, allegedly tasty juice in just thirty seconds. As it was, she had to settle for toaster tarts. Wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, she shuffled back to the kitchen. Much to her pleasure, she found that she managed to get the tarts out of their plastic wrapping and into the toaster in under twenty seconds. That was a saving of ten seconds over potato corn juice and a triumph for convenience food.
Whilst her tarts toasted, Zora watched the toaster carefully. It was old and not very good at toasting anymore. It also had rather disturbing habit of ejecting its contents at inopportune times with a loud clanging of springs that had threatened to give her a coronary on more than one occasion.
She was keyed up for the inevitable ejection when a loud banging at the door made her shriek with fear. After realizing that she was not under toaster attack, she tossed the blanket from her shoulders and tip-toed to the door. She was ever so slightly behind on rent, which was terrible form for an accountant, but drinks didn’t buy themselves. Carefully, she peered out of the peep hole and was relieved when she saw that it was not her landlord. Her landlord was short and barrel shaped and perpetually wore short sleeved shirts that showed his hairy forearms like trophies. There were two men outside her door and neither of them matched that description. One was so tall that she could only see his shoulder, the other was a fresh faced young man in a neatly pressed olive green uniform.
They were military, that was obvious enough. What were they doing at her door though? Zora thought about that for a moment, but her thoughts were scattered when the big man knocked again. Putting the safety chain on, she opened the door and peered out the small crack. “Can I help you?”
“Ms Matthews?” The voice was deep and sonorous, pleasant even. The man attached to the voice looked wildly out of place in her hallway. His face was chiseled and worn in a way that suggested hardship. He was a huge man and instinctively Zora felt the kind of fear that one experiences when one is face to face with someone or something much more powerful than oneself. The fact that he was handsome and smiling warmly took some of the edge off her reaction, but still the anxiety lingered.
“Yes?” She regretted having answered in the affirmative almost as soon as the ill considered word slipped out between her lips.
“We’d like to talk to you for a bit.”
Zora frowned. What had she gotten up to last night? Casting her mind back, she remembered the bar, but not much else. She couldn’t even remember how she’d made it home, now she thought about it. “Why? Who are you?”
A government ID was pressed up against the crack. “I’m Captain Brett Savage. It’s a matter best discussed privately.”
A feeling of foreboding was creeping over Zora. There was no good reason for them to be at her apartment. She must have done something really terrible to earn herself a visit from the military. A police officer at the door was bad enough, but this, this was some deep shit. “This isn’t really a good time for me,” she explained apologetically. “I’m home sick today.”
Captain Savage’s expression remained impassively neutral. “That’s unfortunate Ma’am, but we only need a few minutes of your time.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have a few minutes to give,” Zora replied stubbornly. The insistence was beginning to irritate her. “Besides, you might get sick.”
“I hate to intrude on your time off, Ma’am, but this is a matter of some importance. We’ll take the risk.”
“Okay,” Zora sighed. The guy was just not going to let the matter drop. She must have really fucked up this time. “Come back in an hour. I need to get tidied up in here.”
Captain Savage did not seem overly pleased by the idea of waiting an hour. He fixed her with a stern look that she found reminiscent of the look her old headmaster used to give her when attempting to extract a confession about some prank or another. “It is something of a time sensitive issue, Ma’am.”
“It can’t be anything that can’t wait an hour,” Zora said, closing the door firmly in his face and bolting it securely. Stepping away from the door, she realized that she was shaking. The guy hadn’t said an unkind word and yet somehow he’d managed to rattle her. Something was afoot. She sniffed the air. Something was burning.
She turned toward the kitchen where black smoke was rising from the toaster, along with a licking orange flame. “Shit!” Zora squealed and rushed over to unplug the appliance. Her breakfast had become a carbohydrate loaded inferno. She tipped the toaster over and tossed the burning tarts into the sink just as the door burst open, the lock kicked right out of the frame by a solid size ten shoe.
“What the fuck!” Zora screamed. “What are you doing?”
“I heard a scream,” Captain Savage explained, striding towards her. She took a step backwards and found herself pressed against the counter top as he reached in front of her turned the water on, dousing the flames that had been burning merrily in the sink.
“I was going to do that,” she frowned, craning her neck so she could glower at him with maximum efficiency.
He looked down at her calmly, not at all disturbed by her explosive temper. “You were busy cursing me, so I took the liberty,” Savage explained with just the slightest touch of a dry wit.
“Okay, well you can get out now,” Zora said. “Now that you’ve fucked my door.”
“There’s no need to be upset, Ma’am,” Savage gave her some space and held his large hands up placatingly. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I thought you might have been in danger.”
Slightly mollified, Zora nodded. “Okay, well I need to get sorted out here. Just give me a couple of minutes, okay?”
“Take your time,” Savage replied courteously. Zora watched as he walked away, back into the hall. She was alone again for the time being, but he was still outside and the feeling deep in her belly that something was wrong was growing ever more. This was too much to deal with, she decided. Too much to deal with on an empty belly and a hangover.
She went to the bedroom and closed the door behind her. Whilst the men waited outside her battered front door she picked out some unassuming clothing, a pair of blue jeans and a red hooded sweater. Pulling them on quickly, she grabbed a knapsack and tossed a a few handy things inside it, wallet, cell phone, net book, deodorant, passport just in case. A couple of spare sets of underwear followed and she was set. Glancing over her shoulder one last time at the now busted front door, she pushed the window above the bed open and dropped out onto the fire escape.
Chapter Two
As he lingered in the hallway waiting for Zora Matthews to make herself presentable, Savage began to doubt the wisdom of his decision to recruit her. This was a sensitive mission. It wasn’t the place for a civilian, let alone one given to fits of screaming profanity at the slightest provocation. Even if he put her astoundingly rude behavior aside, there were other concerns. She seemed like a total wreck in every respect and he was beginning to suspect that she had a drinking problem. Not only had her file revealed several minor brushes with the law on long drunken nights out, but it was well after mid day and he’d been able to smell the stale beer on her breath. It wa
s a pity really, if she cleaned up a bit and dropped the attitude, she’d actually be quite presentable. The stained tank top and shorts she’d been wearing showed a neatly curvaceous figure he’d rather enjoyed.
“Should I check on her, sir?” Brian asked, rocking back and forth on his toes impatiently. Brian Black was one of the members of Savage’s unit, a solid young man with a solid personality. He had seen action, but somehow his saucer like blue eyes and placid round features still managed to reflect an idealized innocence. Brian could be trusted with the secret of life itself, Savage reckoned.
Considering Brian’s suggestion, he glanced at his watch and nodded. “Yeah, see how she’s going.”
“Yessir!” After saluting out of habit, Brian knocked on the door and then stepped into the apartment when there was no response. “Ma’am?”
Savage could hear Brian’s footsteps receding as he went deeper into the apartment. “Ma’am?” Again the polite inquiry went unanswered. Somewhere inside the apartment, a door creaked open. Savage waited for the almost inevitable squeal of outrage and profanity. It didn’t come. What came instead was a cry from Brian. “Ma… Sir!” Savage entered quickly and found Brian standing in the bedroom, pointing towards the open window. No explanation was needed, but Brian conscientiously gave one anyway. “She’s not here, sir. It looks like she went out the fire escape.”
“Interesting,” Savage mused. Brian was looking at him with a stunned expression, awaiting his next orders. Zora’s sudden disappearance added a new layer of complexity to the entire situation, that was for sure. Not only was she vocally volatile, she was apparently given to ill-considered impulsive acts as well. For a long moment, Savage considered scrapping the mission entirely, but some little voice told him that possibly, just possibly, the traits he was seeing displayed so rampantly could be tempered with a good dose of discipline. Better a brave operative who had to be taught to rein their impulses in than a timid one who froze under pressure. He nodded to himself before giving Brian his orders. “Tell you what, seeing as Ms Matthews has vacated the apartment, why don’t you take a look around and see if there’s anything that might be of interest or use to us.”
Whilst Brian set to work, Savage retrieved a pair of leather gloves from his pocket and put them on. Looking around the apartment more comprehensively, he had the opportunity to get a better sense of the departed Ms Matthews. She was messy, but she was also fairly minimalistic. The usual knick knacks and throw pillows women often decorated their living spaces with were missing. The walls were bare too, there wasn’t a scrap of art in the place, not even a poster tacked to the bare plaster. In the kitchenette, the contents of the fridge revealed something of a bachelorette personality. A case of beer took up most of the space inside the little one person unit. Aside from that there was some milk, half a block of cheese and an almost empty bottle of ketchup, nothing else. The freezer section was full of ‘heat and eat’ rubbish meals and judging by the plastic film on the counter-top with congealed mince on it, they were her primary food source.
“There’s nothing of any real note, sir,” Brian reported from the other room. “I found some bills and receipts, but nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Okay,” Savage said, taking another glance around the apartment. He was struck by how much it seemed as if Zora didn’t actually live there. She stayed there clearly, but the touches of homeliness were few and far between. Even the furniture was bland and he guessed that it had probably come with the apartment. “Then we wait.”
“Wait, sir?”
Savage nodded. Though Zora had made a stupid decision, he doubted she’d taken off to South America. “She got spooked. She’ll be back. In the meantime, we wait for that to happen and get us something better suited to surveillance.” The two men let themselves out of the apartment and retired downstairs. Savage hoped that Zora was lurking somewhere nearby, waiting for them to leave so she could go back inside and resume nursing her hangover.
Less than half an hour later, Savage and Brian were back. They parked quite brazenly across the street from the apartment in a truck marked ‘Terry’s Fish Supplies’. It was rusted and worn on the outer edges and only the sharpest of eyes would have suspected from looking at the exterior that it was anything other than a run of the mill delivery truck. The interior was a different matter. It was outfitted with a range of equipment including directional microphones and monitors that allowed the inhabitants to see and hear what was going on for quite some distance. As an additional precaution, they’d ditched their uniforms in favor of casual civilian clothing. It was obvious that Zora had no intention of cooperating and it would be much easier to catch her unawares if they blended in with the general public.
“Let’s hope she wasn’t too spooked,” Savage said as they settled into their stakeout. It was a warm day and the interior of the truck quickly began to get quite hot. Ventilation had been provided for the computers, but evidently ventilation for the operators was not considered to be nearly as important. Minutes passed into hours and he and Brian took turns keeping an eye on the apartment and its main entrance. Several people came and went, but none of them matched Zora’s build.
By dinner time Savage and Brian were breaking into rations and swapping stories about other stakeouts they’d been on. When the sun finally set around eight pm, Zora was still nowhere to be seen - much to Savage’s chagrin. It was taking a great deal longer to pick her up than he’d planned. He glared at the monitor, willing the woman to come home. Already she was far more trouble than he’d anticipated. His palms tingled with a familiar itch when he thought about the way she’d spoken to him. She was so thoughtlessly rude it stunned him. How she’d managed to get to her age and remain such a spoiled brat was quite the mystery, but there was no way he’d allow that behavior to continue once he found her.
Visions of the curves of her bottom bouncing under the ministrations of his palm danced through his head, placating him for the moment. She might think she was leading him a merry chase, but she would discover the error of her ways sooner rather than later. Savage was an old fashioned man in many respects. He would never hit a woman in anger, but he was a firm believer that a badly behaved lady always benefited from a good spanking and Ms Zora Matthews was one of the most badly behaved women he had ever encountered. He was very much looking forward to making the pleasure of her foul mouthed acquaintance again.
Brian finally broke the tense silence that had settled over the truck.“Maybe we should go look for her?”
Savage stood up and did his best to stretch in the cramped conditions. He couldn’t stand upright, which made getting comfortable almost impossible. His neck was getting one heck of a crick in it. “Where do you suggest?”
Brian leafed through the profile Ethan had put together. “She’s got a few friends in this area, and there’s a coffee shop she’s known to frequent according to cell records.” He looked up expectantly, hoping for his idea to be met with approval.
“No,” Savage shook his head. “I don’t want everybody who knows her to remember two men looking for her just before she disappears. We need to get her out of here without being noticed.”
Brian nodded.“So this is going to be an extended grab?” The phrase referred to an operation in which the target did not return to their normal lives for a long time, perhaps forever.
Shrugging, Savage sat back down. It was far too early to tell what the outcome was going to be. After almost twelve hours they hadn’t even managed to get their hands on her for a quick chat. “All going well, yeah. It depends on whether or not she’s as useful as she seems to be.”
Brian nodded solemnly. “This isn’t going to be easy for her. She’s not the usual type.”
Rubbing his hand over his eyes, Savage had to agree. “Probably not. But these are the things we do.”
The next few hours were spent tediously, but Savage was a patient man and Brian was an obedient soldier. Neither showed their frustration or boredom. Eventually, at quarter to three
in the morning, a stumbling figure approached the front of the building and started pawing at the keypad entry ineffectively.
“That has to be her,” Savage said, instantly moving from repose to action as a burst of adrenaline shot through his system. The two men made their way quickly and quietly out of the vehicle and moved towards the figure quite casually. They needn’t have bothered at hiding their intention however, she had clearly imbibed too much to care about the fact that she was being flanked by shadowy figures.
“Dammit, changing the code,” Zora muttered, stabbing the 0 key five times over.
Savage motioned for Brian to hang back before stepping forward and speaking in the most courteous tone he could muster. “Can I help you Ma’am?”
“I can’t get in,” Zora groaned, resting her forehead against the door.
“Hey, you’re Zora, right?” He adopted a more conversational, friendly tone.
“Yesh,” she glanced sidelong at him. He was relieved when the fog of incomprehension failed to lift from her gaze. She was so far gone she wouldn’t have known him if he’d put his uniform on and played out the scene from earlier that day word for word. “Who are you?”
“Mike, remember? We met out drinking one night. Man, that was an awesome night!” Savage forced enthusiasm into his voice and succeeded in sounding as if getting plastered to the point of not knowing one’s own name was something to be proud of.
“Oh. Yesh. Cool,” Zora drooled against the plexiglass.
Savage took the opportunity to lean in towards her and place a hand on her shoulder. With that physical contact, he had her. It didn’t matter what happened now, she was coming with him. “I don’t think this is your apartment though,” he said, planting a seed of confusion in her addled mind.
“Ish not?” She pushed back from the door and looked up at the building suspiciously.