Mina Cortez: From Bouquets to Bullets (13 page)

After the explanation, the Director began
again. “So you got their attention, because they ordered a turkey
sandwich?”

“With no tomatoes, extra pickles and olives,
yes. And Havarti, not Swiss or Cheddar. You have to specifically
order that,” she explained, a bit lamely, she felt.

“So you're suggesting that Mr. Szach is in
good enough with the kidnappers that he's getting special
orders?”

“No, no ... he's ... he's allergic to
tomatoes. So it has to—”

“There's a bit more to it than that,” came
the interruption. Mina, amidst her frustration, was struck by the
irony that Director Richter would use that particular phrase,
however correctly, when she was the one skipping from criticism to
criticism, first implying the sandwiches weren't worth gasping
over, then using them against Scott, instead of acknowledging the
seriousness of the attackers or researching their vehicle, since
they clearly were important.

“Yes, but ... all of the sandwiches ...”

“I got that. Still highly peculiar for a
kidnapping, don't you think?”

Mina wanted to scream that that wasn't what
was important here, and to forget the damned sandwiches, but felt a
few pangs of doubt herself. That was an odd detail, she had to
admit, in retrospect. “I suppose, but there's more going on
here.”

“Yes, clearly someone has chips that at least
partially cancel yours out. So they've already gotten something out
of the programmers, and seem well aware of us. Did they get a good
look at you?”

“I ... I'm pretty sure they didn't. There
were a lot of taller people around, all about my age. Even the
fight was only a few seconds. They might know these clothes,
but—”

She was cut off. “Then you'd best go get
changed. I thought I told you to keep your head down, and that you
weren't to be involved in the active investigation until further
notice?”

“I was just ...?”

“Just investigating, and put yourself in a
great deal of danger in the process. I mean it, Miss Cortez. Head
down. You're off duty for the weekend. Get your apartment in order,
or whatever you're going to do. We'll look into the car.”

Amidst the scolding, Mina wasn't sure how
sincere the Director was being, or how seriously she was being
taken in general, but at this point, the Director's tone told her
that was the best she was going to get. “Yes, Ma'am.”

Mina was able to describe the three men, but
just as she was pretty sure they hadn't gotten a good look at her,
most of her details were vague. She knew what kind of clothing they
were wearing, their hair colors and rough ages, and that they had
on cheap cologne, but she wasn't sure what type. All in all, even
to her, it didn't sound like nearly as much as she had thought she
had. “Thank you, Ma'am. Yes, I hope there's something useful there,
yes,” she finished before Director Richter hung up.

* * * *

As soon as the Director had hung up, Mina
pondered her options. She would have to get back to the shop and
back to work soon. Her stomach still hurt, and she was pretty sure
she'd be bruised from the fight, but felt she could manage work.
What bothered her more was the implications of the people who moved
as fast as she did, and perfectly countered the moves her agent
chip gave her.

Above and beyond even that, she was suddenly
not at all certain of the Director. They'd brought her in on all of
this for some kind of insight, and now that she'd given it to them,
it had seemingly been dismissed, or worse, used as further proof of
the Director's pet theory.

The situation and lack of sympathy brought
Deborah Lasko's offer to mind. Where Mina was hitting a brick wall,
maybe the AIA's liaison could do something. She was pretty sure the
Director wouldn't be pleased if she knew Mina was calling Miss
Lasko, but until she'd done everything she could to make headway in
the case, she couldn't give up. Mina dialed the number, which rang
several times. As she was about to give up, a familiar voice
answered.

“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 cutlery 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.”