Hostiles

by Ethan Johnson

  The woman sighed and took a few steps away, then turned sharply on her heel to face Diane. “There is much work to be done. I wasn’t given the full truth about what I was up against, but I’m up for the challenge. You will be my Eliza Doolittle.”

  Diane gave her a blank stare. “Who?”

  The woman smirked. “Precisely. Now, where to begin?”

  Diane eyed her bag, then the mysterious woman. She assumed the Masked Man had intentionally delivered her to this place to meet this person but couldn’t figure out why. If the intent was to tempt her away from Lyssa, it would be the Masked Man who failed this time, she vowed. “You can start by telling me who you are and what you’re doing here.”

  The woman smiled. “You may call me Lady Diamond. As for what I’m doing here, well, having taken a good look at you up close, I’d say performing miracles.” She frowned at Diane’s footwear. “They aren’t always possible, I’m afraid.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I didn’t come here to get insulted, lady.”

  Lady Diamond stepped forward and gave Diane a curious stare. “Is that how I asked to be addressed?”

  Diane swallowed hard. “No, but I don’t care. If you’re tight with Sapphire, I figure you and me got nothing to say to each other, except two words you can tell her I said.”

  “Wonderful grammar as well.” Lady Diamond sighed and raised her chin. “I have one word for you, then. Dismissed. I have no use for obstinate pupils when my time and resources are better allocated to the deserving.” She took a few steps away, then paused. “It might interest you to know Janet McBride was once my protégé. You might say Alexa Charlevoix wouldn’t have been possible without me.”

  Diane’s jaw dropped. She knew Alexa was just a character, and the actress who played her was named Janet McBride. She hated thinking of Alexa as being anything other than a real person who really did run a company called PDX and lived in the stately and impressive Strathmore Manor. Lyssa was much more into the behind the scenes aspects of Fortune and Destiny, often referring to the characters by the actor who portrayed them.

  “Jan… Alexa? What do you mean, not possible? Why not?” Lady Diamond gave Diane an expectant glance, and Diane relented. “Why not, Lady Diamond?”

  Lady Diamond nodded and turned to face Diane. “Ms. McBride was intrigued by the role but lacked the necessary background and je ne sais quoi the role demanded. She studied intensively with me for five weeks, and at the end, she was well prepared to excel as Alexa Charlevoix.” She stepped forward and lifted Diane’s chin. “I have been retained for ten sessions to produce similar results with you. I strongly doubt your ability or appropriateness for the rigors such training requires.”

  Diane jerked her chin away and glared at her tormentor. This woman was going to teach her to act like Alexa, but that missed the point entirely. Diane didn’t want to act like Alexa. She wanted to be her.

  “So, you’re going to do what, give me acting lessons?”

  Lady Diamond shook her head. “To act is to pretend, Miss Pembrook. Is that what you want? To pretend?”

  “I have no idea what else you’re offering.”

  “It’s not me doing this. As I mentioned, I was retained by an employer who we both know wishes to remain anonymous. Thus, my employer is offering you an opportunity to align to your ambitions.”

  Diane eyed her suspiciously. “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “I’ll let you answer that.” Lady Diamond gestured to the furnishings behind her. “Look around, Miss Pembrook. What do you see?”

  “Well, uh… a real fancy dining room in the middle of a dump, as best as I can tell.”

  “More, Miss Pembrook. Tell me exactly what surrounds you.”

  “Okay, well, I mean, it’s probably all fake, but there’s a table with a fancy tablecloth on it like at the Cotillion, and wine glasses like Alexa uses, and a huge chan… shan… lamp, I guess.”

  “Chandelier,” Lady Diamond said. “It’s called a chandelier.”

  “Right, that.”

  “No, Miss Pembrook. If I am to teach you, you will learn. You will only learn by putting in the work. Are you weaker than Janet McBride, my worst student?”

  Diane felt a surge of anger well up inside of her. “I ain’t weaker than nobody.” She hated that her voice slipped into her comfortable drawl, but she refused to show Lady Diamond it bothered her.

  “Then say the word correctly, Miss Pembrook. Chandelier. Say it.”

  “Shan… shan…” Tears spilled out of Diane’s eyes. “What’s wrong with just callin’ it a lamp?”

  Lady Diamond stepped forward and slapped Diane hard across her cheek. “Because it’s not called a lamp, you insignificant moron, in the same way platinum isn’t simply called ‘metal’. Words have power, Miss Pembrook. How you speak and the words you choose give your contemporaries a wealth of material with which to judge you, Miss Pembrook. And they do judge you. I did so upon my first glance at you and have yet to be proven wrong. You don’t belong here among any of this.” She picked up a sparkling crystal wine goblet and smashed it on the floor, sending glimmering shards in all directions.

  Diane rubbed her cheek and reeled. The room seemed to reject her. It was every bit as elegant as it appeared, and the smashed goblet seemed like a good representation of how she felt. She thought she fit here, and instead was denied. Her insides ached at the realization. No matter how badly she wanted it, the elegant world of Lady Diamond and Alexa Charlevoix would never belong to a stupid hick like her.

  Lady Diamond put her hands on her hips and sighed. “Lesson complete. There won’t be another, I’m afraid. You may see yourself out.” Diane looked at her incredulously. Lady Diamond shooed her away. “Go.”

  Diane stood up straight and gave Lady Diamond a hard stare. “Your employer paid for ten sessions, bitch. I’m not going anywhere.” She took a step forward and maintained her intense eye contact and enjoyed seeing a flash of fear in her tormentor’s eyes. “Chandelier. Chandelier. Chandelier. Is that all for today? Chandelier. Come on, teach me something.”

  Lady Diamond met Diane’s gaze and raised her chin approvingly. “Very well.” She raised her hands and clapped twice. A brown-skinned woman wearing a cream-colored dress and thick shoes hurried into the room clutching a whisk broom and dustpan. She crouched down and swept up the remains of the shattered goblet, then nodded to Lady Diamond. “We shall need a replacement goblet in setting two,” Lady Diamond said firmly.

  “Yes, yes, right away.” The woman bowed three times in quick succession and left the room.

  Lady Diamond relaxed and smiled at Diane. “No rush, of course. We will not be working at the table tonight. Instead, we will start with the first and arguably most important lesson: making an entrance.”

  Diane looked down at her street clothes. “You’re not going to gussy me up first?”

  “Not any time soon, no. And that’s a key misconception that must be addressed immediately. While style and appropriate dress are important, making an entrance and commanding a room have absolutely nothing to do with clothing.” Lady Diamond slid her hands down her dress for emphasis. “Of course, dressing appropriately does confer certain advantages. Esmeralda isn’t going to turn heads and silence a room dressed like, well, the help, but she isn’t meant to. However, even dressed like a common cleaning woman, Esmeralda could indeed make an entrance that would command respect, if she knew what I am going to teach you now.”

  Diane glanced at the door warily. Lady Diamond didn’t seem especially concerned that Esmeralda would return and hear the secret to making an entrance. She wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t think Esmeralda was smart enough to learn, or if Esmeralda already knew. Diane took a breath and focused on controlling her voice. She chose her words carefully before speaking.

  “Teach me,” Diane said. “I’m ready.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  The next morning, Diane stood outside of briefing room 1A and composed herself. She practi
ced her breathing as Lady Diamond had taught her. She repeated an affirmation Lady Diamond had provided, then took one last deep breath before standing rail-straight and reaching confidently for the doorknob. It rattled as male voices snickered on the other side of the door. Diane felt a surge of anger at the prank, but she clung to her lessons. She figured she didn’t drill this stuff into the late hours to forget all of it at the first sign of trouble. She relished the opportunity to use the tools Lady Diamond had given her.

  Rather than asking to be let in, Diane stepped away from the door and pretended to respond to a summons from her comm unit. Gabe walked past her in the hallway and shot her a dirty look as she stared at the comm unit intently. He gripped the doorknob and shook the door. “What the hell?”

  After a wave of suppressed laughter, a snide male voice said, “What’s the password?”

  “Me telling Kenner. Open up,” Gabe whined.

  “Telling him what, how good last night was?” More voices erupted in laughter.

  Gabe rattled the doorknob and slapped at the door. “Okay, real funny. Come on, the briefing’s going to start any minute now.”

  “Everyone who cares about that is here already. You’re late, dude. Kenner’s not a fan of late arrivals.”

  Gabe slid his fingers down his face and huffed. He looked back at Diane, who cupped her hand over her comm unit’s screen and shot him an annoyed glare. “No, I copy that, sir. I’ve got ears on me. Let me get somewhere private.” Diane walked briskly down the hall and ducked into an open room.

  Diane listened intently to the commotion down the hall as Gabe alternated between complaining and begging to be let into the briefing room. She rolled her eyes at how pathetic he sounded, then she felt a wave of gratitude for Lady Diamond’s timely lessons. She grudgingly conceded that she just as easily could have been the victim of the anonymous officer’s prank, but she felt a thrill hearing Gabe bear the brunt of it.

  After a few moments, Sergeant Griggs walked up to Gabe and asked him why he wasn’t seated for the briefing. Gabe complained the door was locked. Diane peeked around the corner and watched as Griggs opened the door effortlessly to Gabe’s astonishment.

  “I shudder to think of what this force is becoming, if you can’t manage a simple door,” Griggs said. Gabe slunk into the room amid a flurry of snickering. Griggs propped the door open, and Diane took her cue. She straightened up and took a deep breath inward, then quickly exhaled. She strode purposefully toward the briefing room and entered the room confidently. The pranksters seated closest to the door grimaced at her as she proceeded directly to Sergeant Griggs, who placed a handful of papers on the podium at the front of the room.

  “Good morning, sergeant,” she said with a steady voice.

  Griggs cocked his head at this. Diane normally went out of her way to avoid speaking to him and cringed when she had to spend any time in his presence. Not today, she told herself, embrace what you hate. That was one of the affirmations Lady Diamond had given her during their session. He grunted a reply and fussed over the paperwork. Diane smiled at the front row and walked directly to her seat beside Officer Hathaway. She sat up straight in her chair and exuded a sense of confidence and purpose.

  Hathaway leaned over. “Someone had a good night.”

  “I did,” Diane said simply, then suppressed a yawn. She caught a glimpse of someone licking the air between two raised fingers behind her. She didn’t let on that she knew. Sergeant Addison walked up to the lectern a moment later and nodded to the room nervously.

  “Okay, first off, I need to get serious with you guys for a minute. It’s come to my attention that some people aren’t fully on board with the idea that we’re all on the same team around here. And if I really need to say this, here’s a friendly reminder: we’re on the team that keeps this city safe and gets this crime problem under control once and for all. This isn’t the goddamned wild west, people. Ever since Arbor…” Sergeant Addison paused for emphasis. He looked around the room soberly. Diane felt Hathaway fidget uncomfortably beside her.

  “Ever since Arbor,” he continued, “every half-wit with a liquor cabinet or a gun in their daddy’s nightstand is out there thinking they’re the new Genghis Khan or something and the law went out the window when the first bomb exploded. False. We are the law. We clean up the mess. We put as many morons behind bars or in the ground until this town gets with the program, you get me?”

  Diane let out an involuntary whoop. She looked around and cringed at the slip. Officer Cutrone nodded and smiled. He let out an emphatic “Yeah!” Other officers joined in, to Diane’s relief and Sergeant Addison’s approval. After basking in the cheers and applause, Sergeant Addison signaled for quiet. The room obeyed.

  “Just so we’re clear, here’s the deal: You’re cops. If you see criminals doing crime, you stop it. Any questions?”

  Hathaway squirmed again but didn’t say anything. Diane let out another whoop and clapped her agreement.

  After a few more announcements, Sergeant Addison dismissed the briefing. Diane soon joined Hathaway in their assigned cruiser. Hathaway drove in silence for a few miles, then took a deep breath. “We need to talk.”

  Diane turned to him sharply. “About what? We’re on patrol.”

  “About yesterday. About how you mowed down unarmed civilians in cold blood, frankly.” His voice wavered, which Diane took as weakness.

  “Last I checked, a Molotov counts as being armed. Chucking it doesn’t count.”

  “True, but there were others who never made a move on you. You never once identified as a police officer. You never once put anyone under arrest. And not once did I hear you read anyone their rights.” He shot Diane a stern glance, then focused on driving.

  Diane fought the urge to get defensive. She tapped into her lesson with Lady Diamond and reminded herself how Alexa would handle confrontation like this. She rolled her eyes. Who am I kidding? Alexa would have him covered in wine right now, she thought. “I didn’t do a damn thing different than you did the other day when you shot up that street gang before I could even take off my safety.” She gave him an annoyed stare. “Or is lethal force only for men?”

  “It’s only for when it’s appropriate, Pembrook. I’ll defend my actions in any court of law, and frankly, I’ll win. But, all due respect, you can’t just charge into a situation guns blazing and think that’s all there is to police work.”

  “I did what I had to do to keep this city safe. You want to read dead punks their rights, knock yourself out. I identified the threat and I put an end to it, just like you did. Don’t act like you’re somehow better than me when I didn’t hear you do any of that stuff either.”

  Hathaway sighed and nodded. “Okay, I see the disconnect here. I can’t believe I have to explain this to a sworn officer of the law, but here goes: we arrived on scene to a firefight already in progress. Officers were on scene. I made the fair assumption the initial officers on the scene had followed routine procedure. Now I’m not so sure, but that’s beside the point. As you said, I identified the threat and neutralized it. I did nothing out of line.”

  Diane clenched her fists and took control of her anger. She applied Lady Diamond’s directive to always be in complete control—or make everyone believe you are. “Fake it ‘til you make it,” she said. Diane gave Hathaway a questioning look.

  “You assumed,” she said.

  Hathaway swerved to avoid a stopped car and fought to regain control of the cruiser. Diane’s shoulder slammed into the door as the car jostled. Once the car was moving steadily, Hathaway cocked his head. “I’m sorry? Assumed what?”

  “You assumed the other officers had followed standard procedure. I don’t know about you, but if I was on the jury, I’d have a problem with that. I bet other people would too.”

  “I… the…” Hathaway’s voice trailed off, leaving him to stammer wordlessly. After a moment, he sucked in a breath and exhaled sharply. “Fair point,” he said.

  Diane gave him a wry smil
e. “I’ll do better next time,” she said. “Are we good?”

  “We’re partners, Pembrook. I need us to be on the same page.”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “That depends on if you think that gang over there chucking Molotovs needs their rights read, then put under arrest.” She jerked her thumb at the passenger window. A bottle smashed against a building and sent flames up the side.

  Hathaway nodded and hit the lights. “By the book, Pembrook.”

  “Let’s rock,” she replied, and released the safety strap from her sidearm.

  Hathaway called in for backup while Diane waited impatiently. After receiving a ten-minute ETA, Hathaway nodded to Diane. “After backup gets here, we set up a wall formation to contain the attackers. That building has already been hit hard. No sense scattering them when they’re focused on one area.”

  Diane looked out her window and shook her head imperceptibly. This was the wrong move, she thought. Hathaway said he wanted to do this by the book. So did she, but they weren’t referring to the same one. Hathaway meant the standard operating procedure manual, or SOP, as the officers usually called it. Diane recalled the lessons she learned from the Good Book, as passed down by her father. First things first, she mused, they’re not attackers. They’re hostiles.

  Diane fingered the bump of her stallion pendant that laid under her shirt and decided she didn’t need backup. If Hathaway did, that was his problem. She eyed her primary target: a man wearing a red bandanna over his mouth and nose seemed to be calling the shots. She wondered who was second in command. Her experience with the street gangs that sprouted up after Arbor Day suggested there wasn’t much of a leadership structure beyond one person, always male, and a loose-knit group of followers. Taking out the leader raised the risk of sending the followers behind another leader, but she was okay with that. The leaders were usually the smart ones. The Good Book said to shoot them first.