by N. C. Reed
“Oh, that's us!” Jess cut his tirade off as their cue for the landing sequence lit up. “Here we go old timer.”
“When we get on the ground. . . .”
-
“Attention crew, you may now abandon your crash positions and return your tray tables to their upright positions since we have cheated death once more and put our fair ship on the ground. On purpose, I mean. Thank you for flying the Celia, and as always, have a nice day!” Jessica finished with a flourish and replaced the I/C mike, grinning at Linc.
“You're gonna get in trouble,” he sing-songed.
“She didn't say anything about once we got on the ground,” the tiny pilot grinned. “And you did say she was loosening up.”
“I said a little,” Linc stressed. “But I don't think it's that m-”
“Jessica,” Meredith's voice floated to them, “if you didn't have to go and take your exam, I'd confine you to the ship. You can expect extra dish duty in the future and you can take everyone's turn at laundry for the next rotation.”
“What?!” the cry of outrage could be heard to the cargo bay.
“. . .much,” Linc finished. “You really do need to know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em, Jess,” he was shaking his head sadly.
“Wow,” the girl was shaking her head slowly. “Just. . .wow. I'll have to work really hard to get even for this one,” she sighed.
“You realize that 'get even' is probably not the best phrase to use when we're talking about the Captain, right?”
-
“Well, we are on the ground and without crashing! Or nearly crashing. Or almost crashing, seeming as if we're going to crash, or-”
“I get it, Tony,” Meredith sighed.
“Well, as long as you get it,” the cook slash medic grinned. “Are you really gonna make her do all the laundry?” he asked.
“You want to do it?” Meredith asked him casually.
“That little minx should be a-shamed at defying you like that, Captain!” Tony's attitude shifted immediately, abandoning his quasi-defense of their pilot pro tem.
“Thought so,” the Captain nodded firmly. “All right. Chief, we have one delivery here and one pick-up. I'll leave you to handle the particulars while we go and see the doctor and Jessica goes to take her test and see about her. . .things,” Meredith settled for saying.
“Papers, Captain,” Tony sighed. “Say it with me; papers.”
“That's what I said,” Meredith refused to be baited. She knew this was the only way to protect Jessica, but that didn't make her any happier about doing it this way. She had always fought to stay above board as a private freighter owner and Captain and this was skating very close to a line she didn't want to cross over. Still; needs must when the devil drives, and Jessica had to have some cover.
“Here's the address for the doctor,” Tony handed her note. “And this has x-rays, scans, diagnosis and treatment records and results of what tests I could administer out in the dark. If he has any questions he can com me, or I'll come by his office once I avail myself of the shady underworld here to get your sister some 'papers', and then drop her off at the test site.”
“Sounds good,” Meredith nodded. “Sean, are you going off ship?” she asked as the engineer came walking up. He had obviously cleaned up and was wearing clean if worn clothing. Tall, deceptively muscled, fast as a blink of an eye, Sean Galen had proven to be a very dangerous man indeed. A former assassin during the war, his past had come to light when he'd help rescue her, Lincoln, and the boat Chief, Carolyn Falks from a band of hijackers. None of the hijackers, including one man that was well known to Galen, had survived.
“Yes ma'am,” he nodded, voice quiet as it usually was. “Tony asked me to go with him to sample the food so I thought I would.”
“Okay,” Meredith said simply. “You two be careful and watch after Jessica, okay?”
“Yes ma'am,” the two almost sang in unison, looking like choir singers. She almost snorted at the thought. The church roof would cave in long before those two made it to the choir box.
-
“This is it,” Tony announced finally after a good half-hour of walking further and further into the seedier looking part of town.
“Well, I'm certain nothing bad can happen here,” Jessica noted dryly, looking around her with a raised eyebrow.
“Ye of little faith,” Tony chided. “Come along poor waif, and let me show you that not all is as it appears to be.”
“Stop calling me waif,” Jessica complained. “I'm small, but I'm not a waif.”
“You won't be for much longer, anyway,” Tony semi-agreed. He knocked on a very heavy looking door with a small window outlet. Said window suddenly opened to reveal part of a face.
“Yeah?”
“I'm here to see Armand?” Tony smiled. “Tell him it's Tony. He's expecting me.”
The window slammed shut without acknowledgment from the person behind it, leaving the three of them to wait in the alley. Jessica kept her head on a swivel until she noticed that Galen was merely standing there.
“Aren't you concerned?” she asked quietly.
“Nope,” was the laconic reply.
“Why not?” she asked, always interested in learning more about what made Galen tick. And how he knew when to be worried and when not.
“If something were going to happen, it would have happened by now,” he told her simply. “We've been watched for the last twenty-minutes or so at least, but no one's come to challenge us. Must be the company we're keeping,” he shot Tony a sidelong glance at that.
“No idea what you mean,” Tony pretended not to notice. “This is a perfectly respectable neighborhood and this is a legitimate business address.”
“Right,” Sean nodded.
“Look it up on the net, it's there,” Tony insisted. Before Sean could snort in amusement again the door opened with a loud squeak, revealing a huge woman standing in the doorway. Rather one should say filling the doorway. She made Faulks look tiny. And friendly. A sleeveless shirt revealed muscles that most men would kill for, let alone a woman.
“He'll see youse,” the woman said flatly and waved them inside. Tony stepped inside without pause, followed by Jessica and finally by Sean Galen. The woman gave him the eye and the engineer returned it calmly. It didn't surprise Tony or Jessica that the woman looked away first.
“He didn't say nothin' 'bout nobody else,” she told Tony, having been out stared.
“That's his fault and not mine,” Tony shrugged easily. “I told him I'd have two people with me; a man and a woman. These are they,” he waved to his friends.
“Follow me,” the woman shrugged and trudged by them, leading the way up the hall and into a larger area. Several people were lounging in what looked like a large living room of sorts, though many of them were either on the coms or working at a visual display of some kind.
Muscles led them to another steel door, pounded on it twice, and then opened it without waiting for a reply. Tony stepped inside, Sean and Jess trailing, where they saw a wiry man with a shaved head sitting at a desk.
“Ant'ny!” the man grinned broadly. “Long time no see, amico! And who, pray tell me, is this little flower?” he added when he saw Jess.
“This flower is the reason we're here,” Tony replied. “How are you Armand? Looks like business is good to you?”
“Pass'n fair,” the man nodded. “Up and down once in a while, but a man has to 'spect that, I 'magine. So, our little flower here needs the works you said?”
“Stop calling me that,” Jessica complained, only to be ignored.
“She does indeed,” Tony nodded. “You got the information I sent?”
“Round about way, I did,” the man nodded. He walked to a wall safe and opened it after dialing the numbers too fast for anyone to see. “I think we got everything she needs to get by on, here,” he pulled a leather valise from the safe and opened it, presenting it to Tony for inspection.
Taking the case, Tony p
erused the items carefully, noting the quality of work done. The pictures he'd sent had worked just fine and included several identity cards from work sites and even one university that Jessica's new persona had dropped out of several terms back.
“Birth certificate, high school diploma, nice,” Tony mused as he looked through the bag. “Armand, my good man, you are indeed a master of your chosen profession!” he enthused. He removed a leather ID case from the valise and handed it to Jess.
“Your new ID, waif,” he teased. “Best to have it on you, I guess. And this,” he reached into his jacket pocket and removed a thick envelope, “is for your time and troubles, my brother,” he told Armand, passing the envelope over.
“Told you that wasn't needful,” Armand said, though he did accept the envelope.
“At least to cover your own expenses,” Tony shrugged. “I'll still count it as a favor since you did it, but there's no need for you to be out any money, my friend. And I do appreciate it,” he added.
“Glad to he'p out,” the man nodded. “Ain't good not to have papers, no way,” he added. “Things get crazy the Wealthers don't know who you ‘sposed to be an' all.”
“And that is the way of it,” Tony agreed. “Well, we'll get out of your hair. . .well, scalp,” he grinned and Armand chuckled. “Thanks, man,” he said more casually.
“Anytime,” the man nodded. “Shiva 'll show you out,” he nodded to Muscles.
“What an apt name,” Tony nodded. “Relations?” he asked.
“Sister-in-law,” he sighed dramatically. “Whatta ya gon' do, right?”
“Right,” Tony nodded. “Lead on, Lady Shiva, we are in your gentle care. See you again some time, Armand!”
“Later,” the man waved, returning to his seat.
Five minutes later the three of them were back in the alleyway.
“And now we're off to get your certificate,” Tony smiled down at the 'waif'.
“Great,” she smiled weakly. “Better neighborhood than this, I hope?”
“Well, it's a government building so draw your own conclusions.”
-
“Simmons?”
Meredith looked up at the receptionist's call and raised a hand.
“Come with me, please?” the woman asked. Taking Linc's hand, Meredith followed the woman into the exam area of the clinic. They traveled back to the third such room and there had a seat.
“He'll be with you shortly,” the woman promised and departed.
“I hope this guy is as good as Tony seems to think,” Linc tried to keep his tone light.
“He hasn't steered us wrong so far,” Meredith shrugged. “And I did look this guy up on the net. He's well thought of and highly respected. You'd think he could find work someone better.”
“This looks like a pretty ritzy office to me,” Linc shrugged.
“You know what I meant,” Meredith told him.
“Yeah, and I also know you need to stop,” he told her. “You're talking about friends of our medic and cook, Meredith, and maybe even some of his family. Give that stick a rest and admit that not everyone has the luck to be born where they wanted to be.”
“I'm just saying that-” she cut off whatever she'd been 'just saying' as the door opened and a gray-haired man in a white doctor's coat entered, chart in hand.
“Lincoln Simmons?” he asked after looking at the chart. “Yes, I remember your case. Tony. . .Giannini, your medic, sent me your file some weeks ago. Said you were injured in a piracy attack?”
“An attempted one, yes,” Lincoln nodded.
“I'm Doctor Bernard, sorry,” the man shook hands with the couple, Linc first. “Absent minded sometimes I'm afraid. Now. . .I looked at the scan he sent me, and reviewed the file you left with my receptionist as well. You do have so lingering issues with the head trauma you suffered Mister Simmons, but nothing there suggests to me that is what's causing your vision problems. That means that your altercation has to have aggravated an existing issue. I see you're having problems with depth perception. Had you noted that before your incident?”
“I hadn't, but then I wasn't looking for it either,” Linc admitted. “I'd had some difficulty, but. . .I thought I was just a bad pilot.”
“Well, I can't speak to your actual degree of skill, but if you're having issues with depth perception that's definitely a job where it would be a problem. Let's give you a few tests and see if we can determine exactly what the issue is here.” He dimmed the lights and Linc sat down in a chair with numerous attachments, one of which swung to his head.
“Now, we'll start with simply identifying which object is closer, Mister Simmons,” the doctor told him. “Take your time and tell me, which one is closer, the red square or the blue triangle. . . .”
-
“Trenton!”
“That's me,” Jessica stood, carrying her new papers with her. She was oddly not nervous.
“Here for the written exam, right?” the woman clarified.
“Yes,” Jess nodded. “This is my practicals,” she offered him the chip Lincoln had fixed for her, certifying that he had 'checked' her on the Celia. The woman quickly plugged the card into a reader and perused it, nodding.
“Looks good,” she announced after a few minutes. “Assuming you can pass the written exam with a seventy-eight or greater, you'll leave here a brand new pilot first class, non-passenger,” the woman smiled. “Which actually means no more than ten passenger capacity, which I see. . .your ship doesn't even carry. Good deal. The test for pax pilots is a good deal more difficult and takes longer as well. Come with me and we'll get you signed in and you can get started. You gentlemen can wait here or if you have other business this will take about five hours, total.”
“Jess?” Tony asked.
“I think I'll be fine,” she smiled nervously. “And if I need you or something goes wrong, I'll call.”
“Well, that's our cue to go and eat!” Tony smiled broadly. “We'll try and save some pasta for you, Jessica.”
“Lucky me,” she smiled and then followed the exam supervisor back into the offices. Sean followed Tony from the office. The two stopped on the sidewalk as Tony looked around him, breathing deeply.
“You sure she'll be okay here by herself?” Sean asked.
“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “This area is pretty well policed and we should be back long before she's finished. Come on,” he nodded toward the street, where he raised a hand and waved down a hover taxi.
“Where we going?” Sean asked.
“Home,” Tony grinned broadly. “I am going home.”
CHAPTER TWO
-
“Looks like a roadblock, sir,” the driver said, cutting into Tony's review of how things had changed in his absence.
“What?”
“Looks like the police have this area sealed off, sir,” the driver repeated. “I can try to get to your address another way but. . . according to my mapping, that's what they've got blocked.”
“What the hell?” Tony muttered. “No, this is good. We can walk from here.” He handed a credit chip to the driver and included a tip. Getting it back he and Sean got out.
“Something wrong?” Sean asked.
“I don't know,” Tony admitted. “My father usually depends on his own security. If the cops are here, it can only be trouble. Come on, man,” he waved. “I want to see what's going on.”
Sean followed him, but before they got within fifty yards of the gate to his family estate a police officer had intercepted them.
“Sorry gents, this area is off limits,” the officer told them.
“Not to me,” Tony shook his head. “This is my home. What's going on around here? I literally just got off ship two hours ago, give or take.”
“I. . .I'm not at liberty to say, sir,” the officer was caught by surprise. “I'm not supposed to allow any access to the grounds.”
“Well, that's not going to work for me,” Tony told him flatly. “My name in Anthony Delgado and that,” he pointe
d to the grounds behind the wall, “is my home. Now I suggest you call whoever you need to in order to get this cleared up because we are going inside.”
The officer didn't know any of the Delgado family personally, but this young man certainly spoke with the authority that one of them would wield. Unsure of what else to do, he contacted his sergeant by radio. Soon a puffing man wearing the stripes of his office on his sleeve arrived.
“Who are you?” he demanded just short of being rude.
“I am Anthony Delgado,” Tony replied. “Who are you?”
“I'm Sergeant Nellis of the Violent Crimes Task Force,” the man replied, his tone moderating some. “We had no word that you were supposed to be arriving.”
“I didn't tell anyone,” Tony admitted. “It was supposed to be a surprise for my parents, especially my mother. Can you tell me what's going on around here?”
“No sir, I can't,” the sergeant admitted. “Let me contact the house and let them know you're here. It will just be a minute.”
“It had better be,” Tony was getting testy.
“Easy, brother,” Sean murmured. “Man's doing his job is all. Whatever is going on, it's obvious your folks don't want visitors today.”
“My father has overpaid security to make sure they don't get any visitors they don't want,” Tony replied. “He never relies on the police, Sean. Ever. Something's not right.”
“We'll see what it is in a minute,” Sean assured him, looking around them carefully. “There's more out here than just these guys, too,” he added. “I've spotted three riflemen hidden in the trees or across the street in that house, there,” he nodded. “They're watching us, too. Let's not do anything to get us shot right here on your family's door step.”
“The hell?” Tony looked around but could see nothing. “How the hell do you know that?”
“I can see,” Sean shrugged. “Stop looking, man. Don't give away we know they're there.”
“Right,” Tony nodded. He was becoming more concerned by the minute. The sergeant was returning now.
“I need to see you ID, sir,” he requested politely. “Yours as well,” he added to Sean. Both men complied with the request, Tony obviously growing more impatient by the second.