by Jeffrey Cook
“This is the Deputy Mayor's office, Deborah Lasko speaking.”
“Miss Lasko, it's Mina ...”
“Mina! Deborah, please. How can I help you? You sound out of breath. Are you all right?”
“I'm fine Miss ... err, Deborah. Or I will be. I've run into some trouble, and just want to make sure that someone is following up. You have ties with the police, right?”
“I do, but it would seem like your Director would be a better call to be making.”
“I did call her, but we're not on the best of terms right now. You may have heard—I kind of screwed up my first solo day on the job.”
“I heard a little bit, but I also heard something about a delivery girl being credited with saving a few lives. The Director may like things by the book, but the AIA was founded to protect people, after all. You did that.”
“I appreciate it, but that's not the important part right now. I have something that I think pertains to the case, and I'm not sure the Director is listening. I want to make sure someone is following all the leads, even if they come from the rookie in hot water.”
“Of course, Mina. Tell me what you've got, and I'll see if I can't pull a few strings for you.”
Mina gave her the details of the encounter, including the fact her chip hadn't given her the warning she'd have expected. She placed extra emphasis on having the license plate looked into.
“Of course,” came the assurance, with more than a bit of surprise in her tone. “Just as importantly, are you all right? Do you need to get the afternoon off so you can rest? Or to get to a safehouse for a little bit? Or medical attention?”
“I'm fine, Deborah, really. I really need to not miss more time at work, and I'm pretty sure it's all just some scrapes and bruises. I also really need to not get any more on the Director's bad side.”
“Of course. If you change your mind, I'll make arrangements.”
“Thank you, but I really just want to finish up the afternoon and get home.”
“Certainly. I'll start having the car looked into as soon as we're off the phone. Don't push yourself too hard, Mina. I know that's difficult advice right now, but we're already short-handed for the situation, and need every possible agent at their best.”
“I'll try, thank you, ma—Deborah. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course. That's what I'm here for. I'll be looking forward to hearing how your insights broke the case wide open soon.”
* * * *
Mina managed to hide her couple of scrapes and not make the tenderness of her side too obvious while finishing work. The couple of times her mother asked about her wincing when reaching for things on higher shelves, Mina claimed lingering effects of her previous accident. Throughout the day, she kept looking towards the front door for some sign that she'd been followed or figured out, but nothing unusual happened.
Miko showed up as soon as the work day ended to help Mina pick up more of her things to take to the apartment. Between the pair of them, they quickly filled up Vlad's back seat and trunk, even with Mina frequently looking over her shoulder.
“Looking for something?” Miko asked.
“Just been a bit twitchy since the bike accident.”
Miko continued to look at her a bit suspiciously. “Best friend sense tingling, but whatever.”
“I'm not even going to ask how tingling is involved.”
Miko sighed. “Culture is dead.”
* * * *
Mina began to relax after the last trip through the apartment. It had a solid security system, one of those things her employer apparently checked on when requesting housing for new agents, and Miko's presence was reassuring. She felt a little guilty, considering the circumstances, for not suggesting Miko go home. Nonetheless, she felt more secure and needed the company.
The girls unpacked most of the kitchen supplies and enough extra bedding that Miko could make herself a comfortable place on the couch, once she'd called her father to check in.
“Dad's fine. Wants me home in time for M. Chiasson tomorrow.”
“Great ... wait, is that your violin teacher or your French tutor?”
“Both. Real convenient. Three solid hours of mixed lessons with him before krav maga.”
The pair stayed up later than Mina typically would have on her own, catching up. Mina continued to feel guilty leaving out some pretty important information, but a lot of it was obviously a necessity. The rote explanation of how she'd managed to get into her bike accident didn't seem to fool Miko either, but Mina eventually distracted her by pretending a renewed interest in some of Miko's old movies. She found herself even able to offer some insight into a couple of Miko's favorite mysteries, even if she had no idea what the weird accent was about or why Miko was calling her 'Sweetheart,' just putting it down to more things she'd never care to spend the hours in front of Miko's antique vid player to figure out.
Miko was just settling in on the couch, with Mina preparing to go to bed, when they heard a noise at the door. Mina quickly hushed her friend, shaking her head at Miko's inquisitive look. She started forward, expecting someone just having the wrong apartment after coming home drunk, but as soon as she neared the door, it started to open, and she picked up cologne and gun oil in strong contrast to the incense she'd been burning while talking to Miko. No alarms had gone off, and it was seconds between hearing the rattling and the click of the lock. Had she been in bed, as she normally would have been at this hour, she'd never have heard a thing.
A hand came through the open door first, with a silenced pistol in it. Mina dove for the door, trying to slam it shut. Instead, she caught the hand in the doorway, resulting in the gun going off, a scream from outside, and the gun falling to the floor. Before she was able to shove the door shut, a shoulder barreled into it, sending her sprawling backwards.
By reflex, she was back on her feet and in stance in a second, feinting at her attacker before going into a low kick. The man in dark clothing ignored the feint, stepping away from the kick. He came back at her while she was still regaining her balance. While it took only an instant, he had already kicked the inside of her plant-foot ankle, sending her sprawling again. She faked rolling one way, and went the other, trying to get back to her feet with some room. He didn't buy it, kicking her in the side as she was trying to regain her feet. Between that and a shot of pain shooting up from her ankle as she briefly put weight on it, she was back down in a moment.
She saw him shift, about to kick downward at her throat.
“Freeze.”
Mina and her attacker looked back towards the doorway. Miko had recovered the gun and stood pointing it towards the man. Even as she repeated her warning, properly cop-style, the man was moving. Even with the distance between them, the man's reflexes let him get to Miko to knock the gun aside as she was firing. When the man attacked again, she half expected Miko to brush it aside, or try one of her aikido throws, and indeed, she almost did. He caught his balance and reset his feet too fast for her, and slammed a punch into her face before she could adjust her guard.
That was all Mina saw as she half-crawled, half-dove into the kitchenette, divided from the main room by a short bar-style counter. Using the counter to pull herself to her feet, she saw Miko, still on her feet, but bleeding from the nose and off balance, trading quick punches. She was faring better than Mina had, but the guy was just too fast for her, on top of being bigger and stronger, the advantages her martial arts usually let her counteract. It didn't look like it would last a lot longer.
Mina grabbed for a box on the counter, faced the man who'd broken in, and yelled. With one more quick punch, he knocked Miko to the floor and started for Mina. As she started to throw the box at him, one arm came up to block it. She couldn't see his face, due to a ski mask, but could still see his eyes widen in surprise when instead of throwing the box, she held on to it, just letting its contents fly, and dozens of kitchen knives, forks and other assorted silverware flew his way. Caught off guard, with too much cutle
ry to properly block or dodge, the guy screamed as one knife caught his arm, while a fork stuck into the side of his face through the mask.
Seeing that that wasn't going to stop him, Mina started reaching for another box—one filled with bread and boxes of crackers. While pretty sure that wasn't going to be nearly as effective, as it turned out, it didn't have to be. Miko had managed to get back to her feet, and as the guy was staggering back, reaching for the fork, she grabbed the back of his collar and waist of his black pants, using his own backwards momentum to get him moving fast and hard towards the nearest window.
Mina's brain was processing the movements fast enough that she was worried he was going to recover his balance and counter the move—and they'd both be in trouble—but he hit the window before he recovered. The impact was enough to break the reinforced glass, and his momentum from the throw enough to propel him through it. He screamed again all the way to the ground, and then went quiet and still on impact.
Chapter Fourteen
“No, that was not a burglar,” Miko began, looking daggers at Mina. “What's going on?”
“I'll explain, I promise. But we need to get out of here, now,” Mina insisted, limping towards the door.
“We need to wait for the police to file a report,” Miko countered, but didn't sound as self-assured as usual.
“When that guy doesn't report in, there'll be more. I'm not supposed to tell you anything, but I think I owe you about a dozen now. My bosses will deal with the situation. But we need to go. Just please, trust me.”
Miko nodded, quickly pulling her clothes on over her pajamas, grabbing her hat, and heading for the door, catching up with Mina and moving to help support her so both could move more quickly.
There were a good number of people moving about the floor now, reacting to the screams. Miko thought quickly, taking advantage of Mina's injury and the traces of blood. Anyone who looked their way got a quick, “burglar—she was hurt. Move, please.”
Meanwhile, Mina thought of a few options for ways out, before a thought hit her. She first headed for the security offices on the ground floor. With the commotion on her floor, this level was empty. The guard on duty was slumped forward over the equipment, but nothing looked tampered with. A quick bit of further investigation revealed he'd been shot in the back of the head. He had never turned towards the locked door to his office, which showed no signs of being forced. Mina quickly grabbed the security vid, hoping it might, on review, give her some idea what was going on, even if its being missing would require some explaining later.
That was all the time for delay Mina felt she had. At first, she started towards her bike, before the taste of aluminum cut off that line of thought. Since the guy who broke in clearly hadn't been expecting Miko, they'd be watching Mina's bike if something went wrong, but might not have the parking area covered. She had to assume there weren't too many of them about since large groups here would be conspicuous at this hour. She suspected, in fact, that there were probably three of them around somewhere—or two, with one having gone through the window. With the time to think about it, she decided that the assailant's body type was pretty close to the smallest of the three men at the sandwich shop, though that was hardly conclusive.
Whether he'd had any backup or not, the girls made it to Vlad, and were able to pull out of the lot without trouble. Mina wasn't able to tell what condition the man was in after his fall, given that there was a small crowd gathered around the area where he would have hit. She recognized a few of her neighbors, but didn't otherwise see anyone she recognized, but from a distance, in the dark, that wasn't a surprise.
Once they got a few blocks away, she started explaining. Miko made her slow down and start over half a dozen times, given how rushed all the details were. Finally, she got out enough for Miko to switch to the questions.
“Okay, so ... wait ... you're just pretending to be a flower delivery girl, and you're really some kind of secret-agent-spy-cop?”
“I know it sounds ridiculous, but ... “
“No, no. I know when you're lying. What I meant to say is that is so cool! You're like the last person anyone would expect, so it's perfect!”
“Thanks, I think.”
“So, now the not-cool bits. They seriously think Scott had something to do with this?”
“I don't know what to think. Given how quickly they tracked me down, and how quick she was to jump on her own conclusions. I ... I sort of think my boss might know more than she's telling me.”
“You really think so?”
“Well, when I called to tell her what I'd found, she was way more interested in jumping down my throat than on, you know, the case. She certainly doesn't seem that worried about me. Maybe they think I'm too much trouble, and they're trying to get rid of me?”
“If they wanted to get rid of you, wouldn't they have just called for a flower delivery to put you where they wanted you, instead of, you know, shooting a security guard and breaking in to a secure building?”
“Okay, point. Maybe so ... I still don't trust her. She's so convinced Scott is behind this, and ... well, you know him.”
“Yeah, poking around online is one thing. Hacking school records to see if he can ... sure. Not something like this.”
“So, I know what you're going to say, but I need to say it. You shouldn't get involved. This is really, really dangerous. I took the job, you didn't.”
“Only because they didn't offer ... yet. You know I'm not going anywhere while you're in trouble. Besides, I know how to prove Scott is innocent.”
“Wait, what?!”
“Yeah. We can't go to your place, they might be watching. Probably shouldn't go to mine, just in case ... but that's okay. I suspect no one expects a nine-year-old to be the key to this case.”
* * * *
On the way to Scott's house, for reasons Miko hadn't entirely explained yet, Miko tried to get more details out of Mina. “So, if you're a spy on an investigation, and have people after you, shouldn't you be—I don't know—calling in or something?”
“Not yet,” Mina said, after a few moments of thought. Sure, she probably should, but something wasn't sitting right so far. “Last time I called in, after the thing at the sandwich shop, my boss just chewed me out. I'll call in when I actually have something. I doubt she cares if I get killed at this point. At least then I'd stop screwing up her investigation.”
“So, real hardcase, huh?”
“Total. I'm starting to wonder if there's more to it than that.”
“Like what?”
“She seems so convinced Scott is responsible for this.”
“Which there's no possible way.”
“Right, but she won't believe it. It's like she's not even looking at the evidence, she just wants to pin it on him and have it go away or something.”
“You really think that?”
“Sounds crazy, right?”
“A little, maybe ... how much do you know about her?”
“Not much. Aside from being one of the scariest people I've ever met.”
“Which is always a prime quality in a boss.”
“A boss who is going to chew me out even worse when she finds out that I've told all about her top secret organization to a civilian.”
“You mean your organization?”
“Maybe ... this might be my third strike or something ... but I'm going to get to the bottom of this and prove Scott had nothing to do with all this first.”
“You mean we are.”
“I'm going to be in enough trouble just getting you into this this far. I want to hear this grand idea of yours, then get you somewhere safe. You don't even have the Inquisitor chip.”
“Uhm, yeah ... because that did you so much good. Anyway, Scott is my friend ... and so are you. I told you once, you're stuck with me til we finish this. Then we'll figure the rest out. Besides, you're a super spy now. You need a Kato.”
“I need a what? Or is that a who?”
“We seriou
sly need to catch you up on your history of great sidekicks. Watson, Kato, Tonto ...”
“Uhm, Watson was Holmes, right? And ... I know Robin.”
“You have to ask about Watson? Seriously? Okay, fine. I'll be Robin, but I'm the first one. And you're not getting me to wear the short pants, even if you ask really nicely.”
“There was more than one?”
“Philistine.”
“There's no way I'm talking you out of this, is there?”
“Not a chance in hell, Kemosabe.”
“Who?”
“Hopeless. Anyway, you're not going to be able to do this with your bike and public transit, and you're not going to find better wheels than Vlad. So, you know, benefits.”
“Okay, okay. So if we can't go to my house, or yours, why are we going to Scott's?”
“Because Beth is there.”
“We're not telling her about this. No way.”
“Not a word about the top secret spy stuff, no. She knows Scott's passwords though.”
“First, you're sure? Second ... so?”
“Positive. On the rare occasions he didn't finish homework by the time he got home, he'd let her log in and play her characters on his accounts. She's almost as good a healer as he is. Even with his cheating with the cyber-eye interface.”
“I'm not even going to ask. So why do we need his passwords?”
Miko sighed. “Scott is addicted, and we both know it. If he were some kind of evil mastermind, free to do as he wants, he'd be logging in every day.”
“You really think so?”
“Addictions are addictions. Tell me I'm wrong.”
“Rarely enough that it gets kind of annoying.”
“Love you too. In any case, I'm not wrong now.”
“The Director will never accept that as proof of anything.”
“No, but it's a place to start. Sure, we know Scott didn't do it, but this will erase all doubt, and we can officially start trying to find a different culprit. Besides, maybe there'll be some kind of clue there. Half of his online friends don't know who he really is. Even without any details, maybe there'll be something in his game mail about his boss, or something. You said they were having some kind of problems ... maybe he complained to someone? Not all the details, but, you know, just that his boss is a jerk or ... something.”