Girl Takes The Oath

by Jacques Antoine

  They heard the squeal of tires turning on concrete a few minutes later, and Emily walked up the ramp to wave Braswell and Padgett over.

  “Holy crap,” Braswell said when he saw the carnage. “This looks just like the bridge… except for that guy,” he added, when he caught sight of Caspar.

  “Who’s he?” Padgett asked.

  “And this guy, with the wakizashi, is that who I think it is?” Braswell asked.

  Emily nodded, and walked through Kano’s version of events for them.

  “So these are General Diao’s people?” Braswell asked.

  “Yup, and I think you’ll find that they were behind the attempt on Ambassador Zhang’s life, and they probably killed Dong Zhuo, too.”

  Another DSS car pulled up, followed a few minutes later by an FBI forensics team. More work lights, yellow tape and chalk outlines, and the bustle of hundreds of photographs pushed Emily, Kathy and Ruochen to the side. Padgett interpreted the scene to a supervisor a few feet away—“…and the headless chick over there seems to have been the leader”—while Braswell spoke to Everett and Horton, who had arrived in the meantime.

  “I think the girls have been through a lot. If it’s okay with you, I’ll take ’em back into town, and you can take their statements in the morning.” Everett frowned at the idea of letting Emily out of her sight, since she had obviously violated an order to remain on the Yard. But Horton seemed more interested in taking control of the crime scene, and Braswell’s offer must have seemed like a way to achieve this.

  “You were right,” Emily said, as Braswell’s car turned onto Rt. 50. “There were two separate groups.”

  “They seemed to be at war with each other,” Padgett said. “I’m surprised CIA didn’t already know about this.”

  “Are you worried that there may be more than two?” Braswell asked Emily.

  Back to top

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Two Funerals

  The first sign of a change emerged at lunch on Wednesday, when Kathy Gunderson walked over and sat between Emily and CJ. The plebes noticed it before the others, probably because they’d gotten used to having Emily sit with them over the past few weeks, and even though she’d moved back with the other 2/Cs, they still paid more attention to her comings and goings.

  “What the…” McDonough began to say, before Zaki jammed an elbow into his ribs.

  Funderburk leaned over and whispered to CJ, “Is there something I should know?” She turned and shook her head, unable to conceal a little grin. “Tenno?” he said, moving on to someone who might be more informative. The whole time, Gunderson herself sat quietly, like a cat during a thunderstorm.

  “Is there something in particular you’d like to know, sir ?” Tenno replied.

  “I’d like to switch companies,” Gunderson blurted out, and then fell silent, embarrassed by the vehemence of her statement.

  “We’ve got room, sir,” CJ said, helpfully. “She can bunk with us, and we can make it official for next year.”

  “I’ve already submitted a chit to Commander Gangalal, sir,” Gunderson said.

  “A love chit or a hate chit?” Funderburk asked.

  “Not really either, sir… though more like a hate chit, I guess. It’s just that after all that’s happened…”

  “And this is okay with you, Tenno? I seem to recall a good bit of tension between you and… well, Gunderson’s friends.”

  Emily turned to Gunderson and smiled: “All a misunderstanding, sir. The three of us will be good together.”

  “Thanks, Em,” Gunderson whispered, as CJ rubbed the back of her neck.

  “I hope this means we can continue our morning hand-to-hand sessions,” CJ said. “And Kathy can join us, right?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Emily said, “…at least for the next couple of weeks.”

  “Me, too, right?” Zaki added, full of hope.

  “What about me?” McDonough asked.

  “Is this the early morning PT you were running, Tenno?” Funderburk asked, in a very gruff, official voice. When Emily nodded, he continued: “I think it will make approval of Gunderson’s request much smoother if you open those sessions to all the 2/Cs.”

  “Yes, sir,” Emily said, and prepared to make an announcement. Zaki cringed to hear what she would say.

  “Please not Jonas Green,” he whispered in some sort of preposterous prayer.

  Emily smiled at him and said in a much louder voice than anyone was used to hearing: “Morning hand-to-hand training for all 2/Cs in the Fightin’ 28th tomorrow morning at oh-five-hundred on the far end of Sherman Field.”

  Funderburk clinked his glass and repeated the announcement. “Sherman Field?” he asked in a whisper afterwards. “Isn’t that kind of far?”

  “It’s that or Jonas Green,” she replied.

  “Sorry about bringing all this attention, Em,” Gunderson whispered.

  “Make it up to me by coming out with us, okay?”

  ~~~~~~~

  “Have you talked to them yet?” CJ asked, sitting on a duffle she hadn’t unpacked yet.

  “Yeah,” Emily said. “This morning, when they first got here, I helped carry Stacie’s stuff to the car.”

  “They want to see us after the ceremony. I’m a little nervous about it. What should we say to them?”

  “I don’t know. What do people usually want to hear in situations like this? Maybe just a reminder that their daughter’s friends loved her and that we’ll miss her.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “C’mon, CJ. You know them. We visited them last year. They’re sweet people, and Sadie is with them.”

  “How old is she now? Thirteen?”

  “She’s tall for thirteen,” Emily said. “I would have guessed fifteen.”

  Kathy stumbled in, carrying the last of her gear: a load of books stacked precipitously on her forearms, and a large duffle pulling one arm down.

  “Which bunk is mine?” she asked.

  “Since it looks like we’re starting over,” CJ said, “Why don’t we do rock-paper-scissors for dibs?”

  “Do you have a preference?” Emily asked. “Because I don’t think either of us does.”

  “Not really.”

  “Then we’re at an impasse,” CJ chirped. “How about we number the bunks and draw from a hat?”

  Kathy opened her mouth, and then closed it again, looking for the right word. “I heard something on the way up here… It’s just… Em, there’s a rumor’s going around that you’re responsible for Caspar’s death.”

  “Of course there is,” CJ grumped. “What else is new?”

  “Well, but…” Kathy stammered.

  “Spit it out,” Emily said.

  “His parents got wind of it, and they’re making noises about demanding an inquiry. I think I should set ’em straight.”

  “Do you know who’s behind the rumor?” CJ asked.

  “Martens, probably,” Emily said.

  “We ought to kick his ass,” CJ roared, suddenly full of beans.

  “I think we can leave that to Zaki and Trowbridge.”

  “What about Caspar’s parents? They deserve to know the truth,” Kathy said.

  “No,” Emily said. “They don’t need to know this truth.”

  “What truth?” CJ asked.

  Kathy was about to respond, until Emily shook her head.

  “But they think it’s your fault… that you got him killed.”

  “Let ’em. What’s one more dead body in my closet?” Emily said, hanging her head. “Someone’s gotta bear the responsibility in their minds. It might as well be me.”

  “C’mon, guys,” CJ said. “Let’s go find Stacie’s parents. We don’t need to wait for the ceremony.”

  Out in the hall, Emily pulled Kathy aside and whispered in her ear. “I don’t care about Martens.” This was a lie, of course. The idea of letting a couple of weasels off the hook for their misdeeds really rankled her. It didn’t make it easier to swallow that she also had
to let people think badly of her. But she figured this was a sacrifice she needed to make, and she tried to convey this to Kathy. “All that matters to me is honoring Kano’s last wishes; he died for us. And if we make a fuss about what Caspar did, NCIS might look more closely at that crime scene, and question our story. You know the truth. That’s enough for me.”

  ~~~~~~~

  “What’s the news?” Andie asked, amid the clatter of Michael depositing his bag and rifling through papers on the kitchen table after a long day.

  “O’Brien’s agreed to have NCIS close the case. Apparently, a couple of operatives didn’t buy her story and wanted to keep it open.”

  “But they’re buying it now?” Yuki asked, trying to look like she was only tangentially interested. She and Andie focused their attention mainly on a large bowl of pea pods.

  “What can they do? SECNAV has spoken, and there’s no evidence against her, other than being AWOL that night. Those cryptic notes corroborate her story, plus it looks bad for them that she found them and they didn’t. And the other mids are lining up behind her, even the one who accused her earlier.”

  “Will there be any charges for being AWOL?”

  “I’d imagine just some sort of reprimand,” Connie said. “The Commandant has to do something once it’s brought to his attention.”

  Ethan nodded, holding a large basket of corn, from which Connie removed one ear at a time, peeling back the husk and stripping out the silk. As she finished each one, she exchanged it for another from the basket. He might have placed the basket on the counter, but for some reason preferred to bear a burden, perhaps hoping it would absolve him of the duty of formulating an opinion about the meaning of recent events.

  “Any idea why Tom is being so obliging?” Andie asked. “I thought you said he was doing some sort of deal with the Chinese. Didn’t Emily just throw a huge monkey wrench into whatever plan they were hatching?”

  “The situation’s probably more complicated than we thought, at least on the Chinese side,” Michael said.

  “Complicated how?” Connie asked.

  “Kravitch at DSS told me how Ambassador Zhang reacted to the news that Diao Chan was dead. He said it looked like he’d just heard his rich uncle had died. Of course, he composed his face immediately after, so you’d never guess it now.”

  “It sounds like General Diao’s operation isn’t just a few renegades,” Connie said. “If someone as well-connected as Zhang is afraid of them, Diao must have some substantial support within the PLA.”

  “The only question is how high it goes,” Michael said.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Connie said. “I mean, if the Director of Clandestine Services doesn’t know the answer to that, either it’s not very high, or they have someone on the Central Committee.”

  “One thing I think we can conclude is that they don’t have anyone on the Standing Committee,” he said.

  “Why is that?” Andie asked.

  “Because if they’re connection goes that high, then they’re already running the country. At that level, they don’t need an intrigue. They are the state.”

  “This is starting to make my head spin.” Andie said. “Do we even know what they wanted with her?”

  “Or if they still want it?” Yuki added.

  “It sounds like Zhang’s people wanted her for the same old reason,” Connie said. “That’s what Jiao Long’s apology suggests. But General Diao’s people may have something else in mind, I mean, if your interpretation of Jiang’s information is correct.”

  “If Diao Chan was a Predator, or some other sort of genetically modified soldier…” Michael began, then hesitated before finishing the thought. He held his arms out to the side and let out a breath and turned to look at Yuki. “I mean, if the General managed to fully recreate your father’s research, then there’d be no need of Emily for that purpose.”

  “What do they want from her, then?” Ethan asked, finally ready to speak.

  “It may have nothing to do with genetic research,” Michael said. “They may want to use her because of her connection to the Crown Princess.”

  “Whose hands are these?” Yuki asked, and reached down to tickle some ribs and elicit some convulsive giggling. She would have scooped Li Li up in her arms if she weren’t already too big, so Connie obliged and held her high above the table. When Stone uttered an inchoate squawk of protest, Ethan traded the basket of corn for a heavier burden, and hoisted the boy even higher than Li Li.

  “Is Emmy here yet, Mom?” Li Li asked.

  “Not yet, sweetheart,” Andie said. “She won’t be here until after your bedtime. Can you wait until morning?” Li Li shook her head vigorously and reached out for Andie.

  ~~~~~~~

  “Is she always like this?” Kathy asked, as they walked back from the chapel to Bancroft Hall.

  “Like what?” CJ asked.

  “You know, stoic… well, more like tolerant. I mean, Caspar did such evil things to her, and his parents are convinced that she somehow wronged him.”

  “What, exactly did Caspar do to her?”

  Kathy hesitated before responding. She knew Em wouldn’t like it if she told CJ what Diao Chan revealed about Caspar’s treachery. But the nasty business in the fall… maybe she could tell CJ about that in the name of disclosing her own shame.

  “There was an incident last fall. We were out on liberty, Casey and Trowbridge, Caspar, Martens and me, and it was late, and we bumped into her. And those guys wanted to give her a hard time, you know, put her on report for stuff… and it got out of hand, mainly because Caspar needled Casey to do something more to her. So they ordered her into that alley off Cumberland Court…”

  “They what?” CJ said. “And you went along with it?”

  “No… I mean, yeah… I told them to cut it out. But… no, I didn’t do much to stop them.” She hung her head for a second, unable to meet CJ’s eyes.

  “What happened?”

  “What do you think happened?”

  “She kicked their asses, right?”

  “Yeah, but she never said anything about it… like, not even to you.”

  “That’s just like her. She doesn’t like secrets and she doesn’t tell tales,” CJ said. “Wait, is this how those guys got injured? I thought they said it was a car accident.”

  “They had to say something, ’cause they sure weren’t gonna admit that she’d given them all a beat-down.”

  “Is this what she doesn’t want you to tell his parents?”

  “No,” Kathy said. “It’s something much worse.”

  “Worse than attempted rape?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s only two things I can think of worse than that,” CJ muttered. “Murder… and treason.”

  “She’d rather let his parents think the worst about her than let them know the truth about their son. There’s no way he deserves that kind of treatment. I mean, he gets a military funeral right alongside Stacie. That can’t be right.”

  “When she makes up her mind, there’s no arguing with her. Just get used to it.”

  Back to top

  Chapter Thirty

  One Conspiracy Too Many

  “I wish you could come,” Emily said. “But Michael’s probably right. Spy masters aren’t usually allowed to get that close to royalty.”

  “Does that include their wives?” Andie asked, though she probably knew the answer already.

  “We’ll probably only be there for an hour or so,” Yuki said. “But we’re flying down to Kosai in the morning, and Chi-chan has to be back in Yokosuka on Monday. So this evening will be our last chance to socialize.”

  “Then I hope Michael hasn’t committed us to some official party at the embassy,” Andie moaned.

  “Mom, I may have to do another errand after we meet the Crown Princess,” Emily said. “You may have to tag along with these two after all. Sorry.”

  “Is this something you’re doing for her?”

  “Yeah, sort of. B
ut it’s mainly for Kano.”

  The short ride from the US Embassy to the Akasaka Estate carried them through the heavily developed Minato district of Tokyo. Tall buildings blocked out most of the sky, sidewalks crowded with people on much less exalted missions than their own. Heavy traffic in the early afternoon meant a trip of less than two miles lasted more than thirty minutes, though to be fair, some part of the time was spent negotiating the gate, whose guards had not expected to admit a US Naval officer in dress whites, and her mother. Frustrated tourists who were limited to what could be seen a half-mile further on, at the public entrance, looked on as they were admitted.

  Glimpses of the spacious park peeked at them, anomalous in the center of the city, with lakes and stands of gingko and birch trees partly visible through the trees that line the short drive leading up to the Togu Palace. Functionaries in grey suits, some with ear-pieces and bulges under one arm, met the car. The Chief Chamberlain and Lady-in-Waiting looked down upon them from the portico of the main entrance.

  Yuki made a formal bow at the top of the steps, while Emily barely nodded and maintained sterner eye contact from her superior height than the Chamberlain could comfortably sustain. He bowed to them both, though Emily suspected he did so primarily to escape her glare.

  Finally, they were admitted into a formal living room, with wood paneling and upholstered furniture, though it seemed much more like a family home than the institutional setting of Emily’s last meeting with the Crown Princess. None of the ornate woodcarvings or artworks one might expect to see in a royal residence. A dog bed nestled in one corner, behind the sofa. After a few minutes, the Crown Princess finally entered, with Ozawa at her side, as forbidding in a black suit as he had been in a formal kimono.

  “Your Highness,” Yuki said, and bowed deeply, as did Emily.

  “Thank you for coming, Kagami-san” the Crown Princess said. “I am pleased to see you again, and your daughter.” She paused for a moment to look directly at Emily, a pained expression on her face. “Ozawa has told me of your struggles with General Diao’s forces.”

  “Yes, your highness. I am sorry to have to report Kano’s death,” Emily said.