Amazon - Part 9: Dancing Queen
By Itinerant
Edited By Amelia R.
Biographer's Note: This is Nicole's story. It covers those events
and people she finds notable in her life and chooses to share. If you
have problems with it, take it up with her. I'm just a glorified
stenographer.
**********
Monday, February 5, 2001(84/51)
Washington, D.C.
9:00AM EST
The conference room quieted as Carson called the meeting to order. It
was a sizable place, with two rows of tables facing the end of the
room where two large projection screens hung. The projectors had been
mounted on the ceiling and were controlled by a rack of equipment in
the back left corner. A camera, mounted above the screen and in the
middle of the wall, captured an image that was displayed on the left.
A test pattern was displayed on the right where incoming feeds would
appear.
The morning had been filled with meetings to filter the raw data from
Los Angeles as the mysterious redhead had been found and followed.
This meeting was to relay the initial report to the Chairman and
consider how to proceed. Carson had come in early this morning to
work on a written version of the report he would present this morning
so the people at the main facility would have time to consider the
information and develop questions.
After the internal discussions, Carson was hovering between relief
and disappointment. Based on the initial video and verbal reports,
this mystery woman was anything but the man-hating bitch they were
looking for. The interactions between the redhead, the brunette,
Kathryn Tanner, and Kathryn's boyfriend Alexander, were pretty
typical for a college-age couple and their female friend.
The right screen flickered and steadied as an image appeared. The
scene was of a similar room; only the faces in the seats differed.
The Central Committee Chairman, the Security Officer, and his
assistant were present, but to the left of the picture and in the
back of the room. Carson gulped, gathered himself, and began his
briefing.
"Good morning. Our objective for this meeting is to present a
preliminary report based on the surveillance of the subject over the
weekend in Los Angeles. She's our only candidate at the moment due to
the timing of her hiring at a company known to be partially owned by
Artemis. We're still attempting to gain access to the computer
systems at that company to determine if there's any useful data, but
so far their firewall is proving effective.
"Our efforts to gain information through the vending service staff
have been a little more successful. They gathered the data on the
subject's itinerary that permitted us to pick up observation on her
arrival in L.A., and have subsequently heard that Dr. Michael Wing
made the employment offer himself. We're trying to determine whether
the offer was instigated by Artemis.
"The initial report from the L.A. office has been received, and so
far the behavior of the subject is not what we had expected based on
the profile we were provided. We will take steps to broaden our
surveillance to make sure we're not missing anything, and we will
also be identifying and searching her motel room for any clues."
There was a pause before anyone spoke.
"Have you considered more direct access to the WGSS facility? I'm
sure there are specialists who could acquire the information if they
had direct access to the systems of interest."
"We've considered it, but until we have more reason to do so, we'd
rather not be that obvious or burn assets unnecessarily."
"And your current evaluation of the situation?" The slightly
accented voice of the Chairman forestalled any other questions for a
moment.
"Sir, at the moment we don't know enough to make an intelligent
decision. The subject, so far, does not act in a way consistent with
what the profile lead us to expect. It could be a deliberate attempt
to divert attention on her part, so we will be continuing our
observations over the entire three weeks she's scheduled to be in Los
Angeles. We might have enough data for a preliminary evaluation by
next week, but we know she'll be in LA for three weeks and in Fairfax
for another four. By the end of that time we should be able to decide
one way or the other without guessing."
"Very well. I'll expect updates at this time each week."
"Yes, sir. We'll file reports each Sunday evening, California time or
Eastern time depending on where the subject is, and we'll plan on a
video conference at this time each Monday."
The Chairman nodded at someone off screen and the video channel cut
off.
Carson suddenly realized how tense he'd been as the muscles in his
neck and shoulders unwound. He stood at his chair and faced his team.
"Okay, we'll reconvene at one o'clock for the phone conference with
LA. In the meantime, make another pass through the video and stills;
if there are any clues, we need to find them. I don't want to be
following a redheaded herring and leave a shark unwatched."
*****
Los Angeles, CA.
8:30AM PST
The stakeout team had taken over from the first watch at the parking
spot that permitted a good view of the only exits from the hotel
grounds. The information provided indicated they'd need to be ready
to follow the target today; she was here for dance classes, but no
one knew where the studio was located.
The teams had requested and received approval for a tracking device
that could be mounted on the rental car. The schedule during the week
probably wouldn't be a problem, but if she took off during the
weekend, they needed to be able to keep track of her location. With
luck, the device would be arriving by express shipping tomorrow.
"She's on her way to her car. Heads up."
The driver turned the ignition key. They needed to be able to take
off immediately. Of course, she took off north out of the parking
lot; they had to quickly make a U-turn and scrambled to get back
within visual range as she cruised up Beverly.
~I hate stakeouts.~
They finally reached their preferred tailing position, just in time
to see their target make a right hand turn. They passed a dance
studio and made the same turn they'd seen their subject make. The car
wasn't in sight as they came around the corner to Dayton Way. They
slowly started down the street and spotted the car making its way
down the alley toward the parking area behind the buildings on
Beverly.
The man on the passenger side quickly jumped out to follow the
subject, as the driver continued down the street. He'd make his way
around the block and rejoin his partner.
*****
Los Angeles, CA
8:30AM PST
~New hotel; same old routine.~ she thought.
By now the schedule was familiar enough. The alarm had sounded at
five o'clock local time, and, after a cold washcloth to help wake up,
Nicole headed for the fitness room for as much of a workout as
possible. This morning it had taken a couple of extra minutes to
locate the fitness room, which was a bit of a disappointment. There
were free weights, rather than the weight machines at Dana Point, and
the weight available would be a minimal problem even if a non-Amazon
were in the room. Nicole looked around, deciding to limit her weight
levels to no more than a couple of hundred pounds just in case
someone came in unexpectedly. With the lower weight levels, she chose
to run through a longer series of lifts, relying on the longer
duration to make up for the weight deficiency. Her morning run was
about normal length and speed -- higher than most people could manage
for the duration, but by no means superhuman.
An hour and a half after she had left her room, she trotted back for
a shower and clean clothes.
She had taken some time this morning as she pondered the clothing
selections for the day. With dancing class, she would no doubt want
to wear heels. There was no point in learning with shoes she wouldn't
wear to a dance. On the other hand, there was no way she'd wear heels
for almost eight hours of lessons without something to change into
for lunch and between lessons.
First, she thought, was the choice of clothing. She looked over the
selections, limited though they were.
~Jeans are out for today, at least. That's a little too informal
without being sure it's appropriate.~ She flicked the hanger to one
side and looked at the pantsuit briefly before it joined the jeans..
~Nope. I want a little more freedom of movement, so it has to be a
skirt.~ As she isolated the skirts on their hangers, she considered
her reaction.
She finally settled on the gray skirt and white blouse combination;
it was as short a skirt as she had -- that she'd wear to the studio
anyway -- and would be comfortable even on this warm day if she left
the jacket off. ~Two months and two weeks, roughly,~ she thought.
~Just about seventy-five days, and I'm getting there, little by
little.~
She stood in the bathroom and leaned over the sink as she put on a
little makeup, keeping it to the minimum for daytime. It took only a
few more minutes more to put her pantyhose, blouse, and skirt on. She
had chuckled as she slid the hose up her legs and recalled the utter
disaster of that morning in Virginia; she was pleased that no hose
fell victim to errant fingernails today. At last, she took a brush to
her hair, smoothing the wild disorder into something easily gathered
into a convenient ponytail for the day. She stepped back from the
counter and took a good look at her appearance.
~I'd never have imagined it, but,~ she smoothed the skirt with her
hands and smiled, ~I really like the way I look.~ She reached for
the jewelry selected for the day, grinning at herself as she fumbled
a little with an earring. The necklace and bracelet took moments
longer; finally, she stepped out of the bathroom into the main area.
She looked around the room one last time as she stepped into her
black flats. She'd taken one of the laundry bags and put her heeled
shoes in it for later. Grabbing her purse, she reached for the
doorknob. She stopped before opening it and turned back to pull the
scepter out of its hiding place. It rode securely in an inner pocket
of her coat as she finally left the room for breakfast.
~I regretted not having it when I ran across Judith. I guess I'd
better learn how to carry it with me.~ She thought for a minute. ~I
wonder if I can start wearing one of those coats like they used in
the 'Highlander' movies?~ She giggled briefly at the thought of
reaching into her coat and confronting someone with -- her stick.
~It lacks something in intimidation factor.~ More snickers escaped
as she walked down to the restaurant.
Breakfast was tasty; the hot buffet was well stocked, and the
selection of fruits was as varied as she'd seen anywhere. One or two
of the fruits were unfamiliar, and a small sample of each was
included as she filled her plate, as were some others that Tom had
tried and rejected.
~Who knows how my taste buds will react now?~
Nicole found she still needed to make an effort to restrain the
ingrained habits of her male life as she ate. ~Small bites,~ she
reminded herself. Tom could take big bites; that wasn't ladylike, so
she mustn't.
~Why not?~ The thought wandered in from a corner of her mind.
~Because I AM a woman now, and need to blend in. If not for my own
well-being, then for Kate's safety.~ came the determined response.
~Even if it means putting up with looks from the businessmen having
breakfast.~ The oddest aspect of that train of thought was her
uncertainty about how she *wanted* to react.
~Am I making my life more stressful than it needs to be? Can I live
with the idea of being attracted to women in my head, and my body
reacting to men? Can I just relax, accept I'm functionally bi-sexual,
and just quit worrying about the plumbing arrangements?~ Her ponytail
swung as she shook her head in confusion. It had been weeks since
she'd taken time in the shower to -- explore, and she was finding
herself antsy of late. On the other hand, she was a bit hesitant to
find out what kind of pictures would flit through her mind as she
tried to relieve the sexual tension that was building.
Shaking off the topic, she watched the news and took time to ponder
what the next three weeks held. She'd spend time with Kate on the
weekend, probably. She also wanted to get to know Alex a lot better.
Kate was in love with him, and sooner or later, he'd find out, or
need to be told, about the Amazons.
She also paid attention to the antics in Washington, as the new Bush
Administration put its list of candidates forward for confirmation.
~What they're doing, I'll have to do before too many years pass. I
might as well try to learn from their mistakes. Why can't a new
administration avoid making the same stupid mistakes?~
She finished up her breakfast, still bemused by how little she even
wanted to eat, and signed the charge slip to place the meal on her
room bill before standing and making her way to the lobby. The
concierge was setting up for the day as Nicole approached.
"Excuse me; could you help me with some directions?"
The concierge, a young Asian woman about Nicole's own age, looked up.
"Certainly. Do you have an address?"
Nicole provided the information and was informed that the place was
less than a mile away.
"It's just north of here on the street out front, which is named
Beverly Drive. As you leave the parking lot, make a right turn and
keep going until you cross Wilshire. I think the parking is in the
rear of the building, so you'll need to go past it and find the
parking access off Dayton Way."
The tall woman looked over the map used as a reference. "So I just
need to make sure I stay on Beverly until I have to go right and then
expect to bear slightly to the left when the road crosses Wilshire.
That should be easy enough. Thank you. You've been very helpful."
She turned a bright smile of thanks to the shorter woman. The redhead
walked out of the lobby, her hair swinging as she remembered at the
last minute how she was supposed to walk.
The sky was clear, and traffic was moderate as far as Nicole was
concerned. Only a mile separated her from her destination, so there
was no hurry as she turned right out of the parking lot, heading
north.
There was plenty of parking behind the building, once she found the
alley around the corner, and she parked near a line of trees that
bounded the southeast side of the lot. A couple of minutes later, she
found herself in the reception area of the dance studio.
A young man sat at the desk with his attention focused on the
computer monitor until her entry rang the chime above the door. The
area was clean and bright with the morning light reflected from
buildings across the road through the large plate glass windows.
"Welcome to our dance studio. My name is Nick. May I help you?" His
voice was a mellow tenor; both his voice and smile were warm, and
echoed his underlying emotional state.
"Yes, my name is Nicole Harrison. I believe I'm booked for lessons
here for the next three weeks."
He turned back to the computer and clicked a few times with his
mouse. "Yes, Ms Harrison. You're signed up for the Full Bronze
program for nine dances. Eight have been pre-selected by your
company; the ninth is free for you to choose. I have a list here of
the available choices, and the list of dances already selected for
you." He handed her a sheet of paper.
She scanned the document. "So I will be taking lessons for the Fox
Trot, Waltz, Viennese Waltz, Eastern Swing, Quickstep, West Coast
Swing, Rumba, and Slow Dance." She gave him a baffled look. "I hope
there will be an explanation of what this all means."
He chuckled. "You aren't the first person in that situation. We have
a brochure that will help." He handed her a colorful, folded sheet
that listed the dances taught at the studio and categorized them.
Nicole looked over the brochure and cross-checked the listing with
the lessons already selected. After pondering the choices, she looked
up again. "I think I'd like to add Progressive Line Dance as the last
selection. I can't say I'm a fan, but that covers the Country and
Western music world in case I need it."
Nick nodded and made a notation on the computer. "Alright, I have
your full schedule set up. You'll be taking six private lessons per
day, three in the morning and three in the afternoon, from nine
o'clock until four o'clock. In addition, there will be six group
lessons in the evenings. One lesson is held each Monday, Tuesday,
Wednesday, and Friday from seven-thirty to eight-fifteen. There are
two lessons, from seven-thirty until nine o'clock, on Thursday. This
week, even though you're just starting, I'd still recommend attending
the Advanced Technique class on Wednesday. You can just watch and pick
up useful information for next week when you've gained some experience.
"We strongly recommend, though it isn't required, that you attend the
dance party that is held each Friday from eight-fifteen until nine
o'clock. It's intended for some extra practice in a fun setting."
She shrugged. "I'm across the country from home, so I might as well
put my time to good use while I'm here. Do I need to sign up for the
party?"
"Yes, but I'll handle that right now." *Clickety-click* "Okay!
You're all set as far as signing in. Now about shoes and clothing, I
recommend you dress comfortably for the lessons. Most students manage
to fall once or twice early on, so I wouldn't recommend wearing a mini
skirt." He chuckled, as did Nicole, at the image deliberately
invoked. "I'd really recommend comfortable jeans other than on Friday
night. You need to wear the shoes you expect to dance in, whether
they're heels or not."
She held up her bag. "I thought that might be the case, so I brought
some heels with me."
He nodded and looked up at the clock. "It's just nine o'clock, and
time for your first lesson, which is the Fox Trot. If you'd come with
me, I'll introduce you to your instructor. Later this morning will be
the Waltz and Viennese Waltz lessons. This afternoon, you will have
Eastern Swing, Quickstep, and West Coast Swing. You'll work hard, but
have fun, too."
The instructor, Abraham Kendall, was a couple of inches shorter than
Nicole even without her heels. He gave a brief introduction to the
dance and its history, and covered the four steps that would be
covered in the class.
Abe started out with a warning. "One thing I don't want is for you to
watch your feet. You'll make mistakes, but it's like touch typing --
you won't be as good as you can be if you're trying to watch what
your feet are doing. Keep your head up and eyes on me."
The remainder of the class was spent introducing the basic pattern,
and trying the step for both leading and following. Nicole found she
was able to either keep track of the step, or stay in time with the
music. The worst part of the lesson was keeping her head up and
seeing the flicker of pain in Abe's face when she stepped on his foot.
At the end of the forty-five minute lesson, he reviewed what she'd
done well -- being overly generous in her mind -- and outlined what
was coming up in the next Fox Trot lesson.
"Will you warn the next instructor to wear steel-toed safety shoes?"
she asked with a slight blush.
He grinned. "I also teach the Waltz, so I'll consider myself warned."
Nicole returned the grin and said, "I'll look the other way if you
want to run."
"No, I enjoy a challenge. You have the physical ability to perform
any of these dances. I have the privilege of showing you how to do
them. Now you have about ten minutes if you want something to drink,
then we'll get started on the next lesson."
*****
Washington, D.C.
1:00PM EST/10:00AM PST
The LA office had just dialed in. This meeting wouldn't be a video
conference, but the multiple mikes made the room ideal for the call.
"I know you've hardly had time to gather new data," Carson began, "or
do more useful processing of the information you had, but I want to
make these a regular event until the target leaves LA. We've reviewed
your video and transcripts. Do you have anything new to add?"
Diego responded for the remote office. "We now know where the dance
lessons are being held. We have a team on standby to install a video
pickup in the place tonight, so we can keep an eye on things without
having to run the risk of putting a face in there that she'll
recognize later. We also have a team ready to do a search of her
hotel room as soon as the opportunity presents itself."
"Are the investigations into the other people she's come in contact
with making progress?"
"We've completed the first pass on each of them. We've compiled the
reports and placed them on the server."
"That's good. We'll look them over. Continue with your surveillance,
but make sure you aren't caught."
"Trust us, we're good at what we do."
"If there's nothing else, we'll let you get on about your business.
If you need some additional resources to complete the background
checks, you can call Asok and use some of the people at this office."
"Will do, boss."
*****
Los Angeles, CA
10:00AM PST
The Waltz lesson went about the same as the Fox Trot lesson had.
Nicole struggled to get her body moving in time to the music and with
the proper steps. ~Just another example of the fact that I still have
to work to learn.~
The after-Waltz review was similar to the after-Fox Trot review.
There was a lot of work to do, but this was just the beginning.
The Viennese Waltz lesson actually went better than the Waltz lesson
had gone. Having been introduced to the basic steps, this second
round permitted her to focus more on timing than the step. She found
that, despite the faster pace, the extra pass through the steps
started to get the muscles accustomed to the moves and pacing of the
dance. The second lesson ended with less pain for Abe and less stress
for Nicole. She kept losing the timing of the music, but wasn't losing
the step as often.
She felt herself relaxing toward the end of the second lesson, slowly
becoming aware of the pleasant sensations of physical contact as they
practiced the dance steps. She tensed at the reaction and lurched a
bit as she fought to refocus on the dance.
She was grateful when the lesson was over, and it was time for lunch.
Abe extended an invitation to join a couple of the instructors at a
nearby restaurant where they served Italian cuisine. It was a block
or two away, but the weather was warm and the walk pleasant.
*****
11:45AM PST
Diego Derbez stood at the window of his office, looking out over the
smog-choked city. It had been his home for most, but not all, of his
life. He recalled the trip across the border from so many years ago.
His family had been locked into the shipping container, and he had
seen his parents and siblings sweltering and gasping in the intense
heat. His father had sworn that they'd never suffer like that again.
He'd grown up in the dark underside of the Southern California urban
society, scrambling for every chance to get a little further away
from the raw edge of survival. His parents had demanded, at times
with a leather strap, that he attend to his schoolwork.
"I won't have you screwing up like those fools you run with. You'll
get out of this hole and make something of yourself if I have to beat
you RAW!"
There were still scars from the beatings, but now, with hindsight, he
saw they had been right in their insistence on school. He'd actually
managed to earn a diploma and then rode an academic scholarship to
UCSD.
He'd pursued a business degree, with a history minor, and had signed
up with a small company in Los Angeles during the economic boom of
the 1990's. Unfortunately, his company had lost several major,
lucrative contracts later in the decade. He'd blamed the losses on
the fact that the other company's CEO was a woman, overriding his
firm's superior bids.
During a late night visit to his favorite bar, one of his local
drinking buddies mentioned someone who might be able to help get a
little back from the arrogant bitches who were making his life
miserable -- who had cut his bonus to nearly nothing that year.
Three weeks later, he had begun his career with Hunter Security.
He grinned as he looked outside. The job had turned into a perfect
match for his skills and drive for revenge. The early days of the
'dot-bomb' had, supposedly, disrupted that former competitor. She'd
never figured out who had tweaked the contents of that financial
report.
She'd be out of prison in another four years, maybe less with good
behavior.
His chuckle echoed quietly in his office as he savored the memory.
*****
1:00PM PST
Nicole returned to the studio ready for the afternoon's first lesson
on Eastern Swing. Abe was replaced by Kent O'Neill for the three
afternoon lessons; he proved to be as resilient as Abe, but was a bit
more intense and focused on the task. Kent also emphasized the need to
keep her attention up at her partner from the beginning. He led her
slowly through the steps, gradually increasing the pace until she
managed three correct executions of the steps at full tempo. He moved
on to the next part of the lesson, repeating the process for each new
increment.
He followed a similar plan with the other afternoon sessions, as he
covered first the Quickstep, and then West Coast Swing. At the end
of the afternoon, Kent and Abe sat down with her and reviewed the
day's successes and problems.
Kent nodded as he closed the day. "Overall, you're making good
progress. Your coordination is excellent, and you seem to retain the
required footwork. You need more practice to smooth out the dances,
and you have more to learn, but I think you'll easily complete the
course in the time available. The only caution I'd make is that you
need to work on not getting distracted until the steps become
automatic."
Nicole fought the blush that heated her cheeks as she recalled the
reason for her 'distraction'. "I'll try harder to focus. Tomorrow's
new dances will be Rumba, Slow Dance, and Line Dance, right? Then we
go back to the first three from today?"
Abe nodded. "I'll have you tomorrow afternoon, and we'll do a quick
review before starting in on new material. Kent will be handling the
morning lessons."
She shook hands with the two men and waved to Nick as she headed out
the door.
*****
The team sat quietly in the car as they waited for their relief or
the reappearance of the subject.
Finally, just after four o'clock and just when their replacements had
appeared, the tall redhead exited the building and made her return to
the hotel. The two teams scrambled to follow, and finally had time
for the formal hand-off after she disappeared into the lobby.
*****
Nicole made her way back to the hotel without incident, other than an
interminable wait for the traffic to clear long enough for her to turn
into the hotel parking lot. As she finally locked the door to her
room, she collapsed onto the couch. Her shoes dropped to the floor
and she tucked her legs up onto the couch, rubbing the ache out of
her poor, abused feet.
~I'm not sure I'll live long enough to get used to those high
heels.~ She moaned a little as she hit a particularly sore spot.
*****
The late afternoon was a nice break from the physical activity of the
day, and Nicole had time to relax before the restaurant opened for
dinner at five. The veal was tender, though not in the same league as
the meal she'd had with Judith. She found herself thinking back to her
visit to England and wondered what Judith would do about the call
she'd received.
The sun was dropping quickly toward the horizon as she reentered her
room. ~I should leave by seven, so I have maybe an hour and a
half.~ She looked longingly at the bathtub. ~If I set the alarm, I
could soak for a while.~
A few minutes later, she lowered herself slowly into the tub. Her
travel alarm was sitting on the counter and far enough away that
she'd have to actually get out of the tub to turn it off. The water
was on the verge of being too hot, but the heat quickly soaked into
her aching feet and legs and began to relieve the discomfort.
Nicole lay there, soaking in the heat and drifting in the haze at the
edge of sleep until the alarm began its annoying, high-pitched
'beepbeepbeep-beepbeepbeep'. Despite the death glare she sent its
way, it stubbornly refused to go silent or disintegrate. She
reluctantly dragged herself from the warm comfort of the tub and
grabbed a towel, resisting the temptation to smack the noisemaker
into oblivion.
She slipped into her panties and bra, then grabbed her jeans from the
closet and slid them on. They were joined shortly by the light-green
blouse she'd worn on her shopping trip with Kate. The little voice in
her head that sounded like Kate stopped her as she prepared to tuck in
the garment. With a sigh, she tied the garment in a midriff-baring
fashion; at least it was warmer today.
The evening went somewhat as expected at the group lesson for
beginners, and the imbalance in numbers between men and women
required an unconventional pairing or two. Kent O'Neill was
conducting the session and ended with Nicole and another young woman
after pairing the available men. His hesitation was visible as he
contemplated the potential damage to a profitable contract if he
mishandled the situation, but the redhead was much taller than any of
the available men.
"Nicole? We have more women than men in this class. Are you willing
to be paired with Kim for the evening?"
The 'Kim' in question was an Asian woman who could have been anywhere
from twenty-five to forty-five years old. She was easily a foot
shorter than Nicole, which was likely to be a problem given where her
face would end up. The tall redhead looked for a moment at Keith, then
at Kim who looked a bit uncertain herself.
"We'll give it a shot. If it doesn't work, we can try something
different."
Kim was still looking worried, but Keith made sure to circulate by
the pair more frequently during the lesson; he also made a point of
switching the leading role from time to time.
"Nicole, you're tall enough that you will inevitably find yourself
dancing with someone shorter than you are in heels. This is a good
chance to learn how to cope with that situation."
Kim gradually relaxed as the time passed; Nicole found her mind was
all-too-frequently short-circuited by the utterly necessary touch of
a soft, warm hand on the bare skin of her back or side. The only good
side was that, by the end of the lesson, she was less affected by the
contact. There was still an uncomfortably moist feeling between her
legs, however. The situation wasn't helped by the speculative looks
from her dance partner.
She didn't spend much time socializing after the lesson; the jetlag
was still a problem as she forced herself to stay awake as long as
possible. On top of it all, her reaction to having Kim in her arms
during the dancing left her struggling again. She was able to relax
enough to get to sleep, but only well after the light had been turned
off.
*****
The late afternoon watch had been dull. She had stayed in her room,
taking only a short trip to the restaurant to eat, then, at about
seven o'clock she left again. She returned to the dance studio where
she stayed until about eight fifteen, returning directly to the
hotel. She was followed by the new shift of watchers that had come on
duty at eight.
"She's dragging a little tonight."
"She just got back from a week in London. She's not doing badly
considering."
The passenger side door opened briefly. "I'll watch the room light
and give you a yell when it goes out. Do you want over or under on
nine o'clock for the coffee tonight?"
"I'll take over. She'll try to force her adjustment to the time zone
before the weekend."
"I hate to give it to you, but I think you're right. You like your
coffee black?"
*****
Tuesday, February 6, 2001
Los Angeles, CA
12:30AM PST
The dance studio had shut down for the night hours before, and the
little shops next door had finally gone dark and silent.
The team moved in with practiced efficiency through the warm Southern
California night; they climbed to the roof to avoid discovery by
passers-by, and the security system was bypassed in seconds as they
entered the top floor storage area. They were professionals, and
there was an economy of movement that reflected their experience.
It took two hours to make the installations: two cameras in each of
the private lesson areas, plus two more in the main dance studio,
would provide complete coverage. They also added the compression and
transmission equipment and their wiring to an obscure junction box
for power. They took time to check for any other rooms that might be
of interest, but found only office space and restrooms.
As the video team worked, a second team managed to pull the lesson
plans for Nicole Harrison off the computer system and copy them to a
floppy. Having a schedule would be helpful in planning their
operations.
Tomorrow they would have a lot of video to watch, but there would be
no guesswork about what was happening inside the building.
*****
Fairfax, VA
WGSS Offices
9:00AM EST
"Alright, everyone. Let's get started." Joanne Bankhead began.
She had been appointed as the CEO of Wing several years before, and
had never liked meetings that started late or ran longer than
absolutely necessary. She'd been hired in through the teams and had
been quickly dragged, fighting hard at times, into positions of
responsibility. Dr. Wing himself had finally 'invited' her into his
office and forced her into a choice.
"Joanne, I can find people to staff up the teams at any good
university. A good portion of those will function reasonably well as
team leaders. You, on the other hand, have a gift for leading that is
rare. You were chosen early on as someone I wanted to run this
company, and I admit I pushed you hard to develop your skills. It's
your choice, but you'll be wasting your talent if you say no."
She'd wrestled with the decision for another week, but finally
accepted the new position and quickly put her own unique stamp on the
operation. The demand for prompt and efficient meetings was only the
first.
The agenda was pre-published and adhered to; if there was something
new to cover that wouldn't fit in the allotted time, a new meeting
was scheduled and all pertinent information distributed ahead of time.
Amelia wrapped up the meeting with her department's monthly report.
"... so based on the current growth rate of storage requirements, we
have time to start our procurement process and have the new equipment
in place before our worst case need date." She checked the item off
her list of topics to cover.
"Regarding the security concerns about the continuing attack on our
firewall, we've managed to track back to a second layer of
controlling systems, but they're still in the same countries as the
first set. Our defensive measures are working, and so far, we've
managed to maintain normal communication with our field teams.
"We still don't know who it is, or why they're doing it, but we're
looking."
Joanne inquired, "Is there anything one of us could do that would
help nail down the guilty party? Any extra resources or contacts you
need us to pull in?"
It took only moments for Amelia to begin shaking her head 'No'.
"We've talked about it within the department, and we've used some --
unofficial channels -- to try to ID the problem source. If the
situation changes, I'll let you know. For now it would be wasted
effort."
Joanne nodded. "If anyone comes up with an idea, talk to Amelia and
don't wait for the next meeting. If there's nothing else, then I'll
see you all next month."
David Sterling closed on Amelia as they left the room. "Amelia,"
David began, "are you sure there's nothing we can do to help? I still
have a few contacts from my younger days."
"I'm not even sure it's more than some 'script kiddies' running amok,
but if you want to pass the raw data along you can have it. I'll drop
you an e-mail with the info attached."
A little later, David was making a phone call to an old friend.
"Gerard! David Stirling. It's good to speak with you again. How are
Anna and Melissa? ... Good. Gerard, I have a couple of things I'd
like you to check out for me, a little special project, if you have a
little time, of course...."
*****
Los Angeles, CA
8:40AM PST
The first daylight watch was settled into their place -- northward
bound this time -- as the now familiar Grand Prix headed out with its
red haired driver at the wheel. They waited before pulling out into
the flow of traffic about a block behind.
Today was lower stress; at least they were starting in the right
direction and had a good idea where she was headed.
Once again, they ended their travel at the dance studio, and took up
watch in the parking area. With a flip of a switch, they activated
the video feeds in the studio and the recorder in the car. A small
screen hung between the seats allowed them to watch the split screen
feed and keep an ear on the audio. The two settled in for the
remainder of their shift, watching as their subject began the day's
lessons.
*****
Los Angeles, CA
9:00AM PST
Nicole greeted Nick, who again sat at the desk, with a smile and wave
as she walked in. She wasn't as tired as she'd expected after the hard
time getting to sleep last night and was looking forward to the
classes today.
Kent was ready to begin promptly on the hour, and began the first
lesson for the morning. By the time the first half-hour had elapsed,
Nicole was convinced that the rumba was God's gift to dance. The
combination of energy and eroticism was heady as she assimilated the
basic figures and the underarm turns.
Nicole's nerves were singing by the end of the lesson, and Kent
actually smiled as they reviewed what had been covered and the
lessons to come.
"You seem to have enjoyed this dance," he said, "and it showed. If
you show the same enthusiasm for the rest of the dances, you'll
finish the work a week ahead of time."
She shook her head. "I know you've had dances that just seemed
natural for you from the first step. I don't know why, but the rumba
just seemed to flow for me like walking or breathing." She inhaled
deeply, expanding her chest in a fashion that, quite unintentionally,
rattled Kent's equanimity. "I know I have to move on to the next
lesson, but I *really* could do that dance all day."
At ten o'clock, Kent began instructing his tall student in the slow
dance, which proved to be much easier on the libido. The basic figure
was well in hand by the end of the lesson; he covered the reverse
basic as time ran out. The slow dance was rather boring after
spending time on the rumba, and Nicole settled on using it as a
reward for herself for working hard on the rest of her lessons.
Kent, eyeing the six-foot four-inch height of his high-heeled student
as they wrapped up the review, commented that the underarm turns were
likely to be difficult unless he found a taller instructor for a day
or so. His five-ten would force an awkward reach to even emulate the
turn.
She looked down at him, amused at his dilemma. "Shall I ditch the
heels for that lesson?" she asked, giggling a little at the
frustrated glare the question earned.
The progressive line dance was -- okay. It didn't seem a huge
challenge, and country music would never rank high on Nicole's
personal 'Top 40', but at least she'd be able to mix effectively in
the middle of Nowhere, Texas.
~Bleah!~
*****
The surveillance team quickly found themselves shifting uncomfortably
in their seats. The lithe athleticism of the woman they were watching
made the rumba lessons a ... stimulating experience. She was
obviously enjoying the lesson, based on the expression on her face.
The slow dance lesson wasn't much better, but it at least wasn't
quite so expressive, and the line dancing lesson was mild in
comparison, finally giving them some relief from the visual
stimulations.
*****
The noon shift picked up the chase, as the redhead joined the pack of
dance instructors as they made their way to a nearby restaurant for
lunch. The in-car video camera was called into service again as they
gathered information, while wishing they had the freedom to use a
parabolic mike to pick up the conversations. Fortunately, even the
facial expressions of the group had proven useful in gauging the
general trend of conversation.
The group chatted, amiably it seemed, as they consumed their meals
before gathering themselves for the walk back to the studio. The
watchers followed to make sure of the final destination and settled
in for an afternoon of watching.
*****
The first lesson was a step neither of the automobile's occupants was
familiar with. The last two, as far as they could tell, were waltzes
of some sort. It was obvious that she was a beginner as there was a
cry of pain once or twice from her partner.
They chuckled at the mishaps as the lessons continued.
*****
The 'lunch-bunch', as Nicole was coming to view them, returned from
the local pizza shop and dispersed to their duties. Nicole and Abe
began the afternoon with the scheduled Fox Trot lesson, which went
surprisingly well.
The waltzes, on the other hand, were still a work in progress, and
Abe found his feet the unwilling target of Nicole's errant footwork
at times.
*****
5:30PM PST
Nicole was settling in to check her e-mail after a quick meal at the
restaurant when her cell phone warbled.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Nicole!"
The redhead grinned at the sound of her sister Amazon, and dear
friend, Kate. "Hey, Kate! It's good to hear from you. What's up?"
She dropped onto the couch, curling her feet up under her as she got
comfortable.
"Mom was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow."
"I have an evening lesson at seven-thirty. If that isn't a problem,
I'd love the company; what time should I be there?"
"Around five-thirty. I'll be home by then, and Mom works from home,
so we can lend a hand. Dad has a Toastmasters meeting, so he's eating
out. Oh! A week from Saturday, the seventeenth, is the monthly get
together at the Key Club. You're welcome to come again if you want."
The two chatted until Kate was informed that she was needed - NOW -
in the kitchen.
There was an 'Eeep!', followed by a 'Bye!', and Nicole was left
chuckling and listening to a dial tone.
*****
Wednesday, February 7, 2001
Los Angeles, CA
As on the previous day, the pretty young woman left the studio after
her last lesson at four o'clock and made her way back to the hotel.
The teams were talking about combing through each shift's video and
stills for a 'Best Picture' competition.
They'd have to be professional, but there was no reason not to have a
little fun as long as it helped focus their attention on the subject
of interest.
*****
5:30PM PST
Nicole stopped her car in the driveway, parking behind Kate's little
Saturn. She was in her jeans and blouse, topped with a jacket to ward
off the occasional rain that was pelting the city. Scampering up to
the doorway, the redhead sheltered under the archway as she rang the
doorbell. Kate pulled open the door and soon the three women were in
the kitchen, with Nicole giving her hostesses a quick update on how
the week had gone.
The menu made heavy use of the seafood that was so readily available,
and reasonably fresh, in the area. Marie had steamed some fresh
vegetables, and they sat down to a perfect California meal.
"So, Nicole," Marie said as they began eating, "I'll bet you're
looking forward to getting back and settling in at home for a little
while. All this traveling must be wearing on you."
"I suppose." She shrugged, picking at some broccoli. "I only moved
into Fairfax the day before I reported to work, so I don't know
anyone there, yet. I *am* getting travel-weary, but for now it's just
the way it has to be. I guess I should be grateful I don't have a
family to complicate the situation." The smile she put on her face
was unconvincing.
Kate raised an eyebrow. "And just what am I? Chopped liver?"
Nicole looked over at her, noting Marie's attentive gaze at the two
of them. "Kate, I've told you before how I feel about you. I was
thinking of being married and having a spouse and children and the
impact all this travel would have on them. After all, how would Alex
feel about having you away from home for six weeks or so?"
Kate stopped chewing as she considered the question. "I'm guessing he
wouldn't like it, any more than I would."
The redhead nodded. "Long trips, or even a lot of shorter trips that
add up, can be hard on a relationship."
"You sound as if you have some experience with that situation,
Nicole." Marie broke into the thread of the conversation. She was
focused on their guest.
"Remember what I said about my father being in the Navy? That's a
perfect example of what I mean." Marie and Kate both nodded. "It's a
question of whether you're willing to pay the price for the work in
your relationships. You're lucky, Kate, that you've had a lot of time
to build a solid friendship with Alex. That will help, but won't solve
all the problems."
"So much wisdom from one so young." Marie mused quietly; she returned
the quizzical looks from her daughter and guest with a calmly
thoughtful one.
"So," Kate broke in to change the subject, "what are you up to for
the weekend, Nicole?"
Grinning, the redhead replied, "I don't have any plans -- or do I
have some that you just haven't gotten around to telling me about?"
Kate suggested a shopping trip to equip Nicole for the monthly group
visit next week. "We can also make an appointment for us at the salon
to get our hair done. I know you haven't had a chance with all the
traveling you've been doing."
The arrangements were made to meet between nine and nine-thirty at
the Tanner house as the three finished their meal. By the time they
were done, and cleanup was complete, it was time for Nicole to head
off to the evening's class. A quick round of farewell hugs later, she
was out the door.
*****
7:30PM PST
The day had gone normally, with the morning and afternoon lessons
broken only by lunch with the staff and a visit to the Tanner home.
Unlike the previous evenings where she took the group lessons in
stride, the techniques this evening seemed to leave her a little
dazed and confused.
*****
Nicole stood by the side of the studio, at first. The group lesson
for the evening was 'Advanced Techniques', and she just stood back
and listened as conversations flowed between people who obviously
knew each other. The terminology was as opaque as a wall.
Abe and Kent were both in attendance this evening, and spent the
first few minutes arranging the students in pairs. They began the
class with a demonstration of the evening's techniques, then started
the students working in their pairs.
Nicole found herself looking up, in heels, for the first time. Abe
had looked around for a couple of minutes when she walked in, spoke
briefly to Kent, and then had introduced her to her lesson partner.
"Nicole, this is Richard MacLeod. He's been taking lessons here for a
few months and will be your dance partner for tonight. Richard, this
is Nicole Harrison. She just started her lessons this week."
Richard looked down at the slightly shorter woman with a grin. "I'll
consider myself warned, Abe." Holding out his hand, he addressed his
partner for the evening, "I'm pleased to meet you, Nicole. I usually
go by 'Rich'."
He was easily six and a half feet tall, with black hair and facial
features that looked as if they could have been carved by a sculptor.
He was dressed in black slacks and a long-sleeved, turquoise dress
shirt. His dark eyes seemed alight with humor. "Shall we?" he asked,
extending an elbow to lead her to the floor. She twined an arm in his
and followed him.
He stopped in an open area, and they took their position for the
first part of the lesson.
"I'll have to apologize in advance for the pain in your foot," she
said. "Poor Abe has tried to get me to the point where he doesn't get
hurt, but we aren't there yet."
His smile was warm, and full of confidence. "I'm sure you'll do fine,
and if not," he shrugged, "I'm a big boy."
She couldn't resist the warmth and good humor he radiated; he had the
feel of a long time friend. She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Oh?" she
said with a little smirk.
The faint tinge of a blush rose briefly on his cheeks, but he still
returned her smirk with a grin. "Ahem! Behave yourself; it isn't nice
to embarrass your dance partner! It can be hazardous to your toes."
He made a show of stepping on her toes, and she squeaked as she
pulled the target out of range.
Nicole's response was cut off by the beginning of the lessons.
*****
The forty-five minutes evaporated, it seemed. Nicole had spent the
entire time with Rich, and it had been a joy and delight. The first
fifteen minutes were a bit rough as they adjusted to each other's
movements, and as she tried to figure out how to keep her feet off
his, but by the thirty minute mark they had made enough progress to
attract a smile of approval from Abe and a nod from Kent.
Their confidence in each other grew quickly, and they were moving
together quite smoothly by the end of the class; Nicole glared at the
instructors as they called the lesson to a halt.
"Very good, everyone. We'll see you all next week!"
Nicole's shoulders slumped a little in disappointment. She had had
such a good time that she'd lost track of the clock. The sudden end
of the class left her wanting more time on the dance floor, despite
the slight ache from all the time in heels.
Rich's soft chuckle drew her attention. "I had a good time, too; I
wasn't ready for the class to be done either." He stepped back a
little, removing his arm from her waist and sliding it down her arm.
He stopped with both her hands in his.
Nicole shivered slightly at the sensation of the touch, and blushed
at her own reaction and his quiet snicker. "I suppose we're even,
now." she said, looking up at his face and dropping her hands to her
sides.
He nodded, and the two just stood and chatted quietly as the other
students gathered their belongings and departed. He was a stockbroker
-- struggling now to deal with the impact of the economic slowdown and
the bursting of the tech stock bubble -- and a sometime extra in the
movies when they needed an authentic American Indian. He'd migrated
west to California from the Cherokee tribal lands in Oklahoma.
Nicole related the short version of her official history, touching on
the traveling she'd done in the last month. She reluctantly picked up
her gear in preparation for leaving.
"It's been a real pleasure this evening, Rich. Will you be here next
week?"
"I'm actually planning on being around Friday evening for the dance
party. Will you...?"
She smiled, "I'll be there for the lesson and the party. See you
there?" She stuck out her hand.
"I'm looking forward to it." He took her hand, and with a gentle
shake, they parted for the evening.
*****
The video feeds displayed the interior of the studio. The instructors
had finally paired her with the tallest of the male students, a
black-haired man with distinctive American Indian features. He was
the first man she'd danced with who had the size to make her look at
all petite. Several times he or she flinched as she made a misstep,
but by the end of the forty-five minute session, they were moving
more smoothly together.
They lingered for a few minutes after the session and chatted
amiably. Finally, the two shook hands and she departed.
"This is a man-hating Amazon queen? Why are we following this gal
again?"
"Because the boss will have our *heads* if we don't."
*****
Los Angeles, CA
11:30PM
As expected, the express shipping company had delivered the tracker
that morning. Similar to the devices used by theft recovery
companies, it was battery powered and used a custom frequency. It
took an additional step to conserve battery life by keeping the
transmitter off until queried by a coded message from a station that
powered up the built-in GPS receiver. The location was identified and
transmitted to the command system; an alternate response was used to
indicate a GPS problem and allow triangulation of the tracker.
The installer stealthily made his way to the vehicle and found a
hidden nook on the underside where the device could be secured. He
kept the car team posted on his progress as he placed and verified
the device's operation.
"Okay. The scanner indicates no activity on either of our default
frequencies. Switching on the unit ... it's powering up ... and
passed all internal tests. Running GPS test ... the receiver is
picking up the signals ... and we have a lock on four satellites, so
you'll get velocity data, too. Checking the precision channel ... key
is entered ... okay, we are in the hi-precision mode and the location
is correct. Stand by for the transceiver test."
"We're ready."
"Okay. Run your query."
The watcher's vehicle had a portable terminal with a moving map
display that would provide the vehicle's current location in a useful
format.
"Okay, we have a good location on the target. Good job; you can head
back to the barn."
"Thanks. See you after your shift."
~At least now we can hang a little further back.~ thought the man in
the driver's seat.
*****
Thursday, February 8, 2001
Los Angeles, CA
The friendly competition between the teams continued, as the full
capabilities of the digital still camera were pushed to get *just*
the right picture. Today was going to be a problem with the rain; no
one expected the redhead to be out as much on a day with that kind of
weather. They still got a couple of nice shots of her in her braid
look, though.
The tracking system was going to be a help, too, as the morning team
put it through its paces on the drive to the studio. The precision
GPS mode worked well, and they were able to follow the track of their
subject from out of sight during their run.
Another team had managed to gain access to her hotel room. It turned
out to be the least interesting search they had conducted for months;
nothing was found other than the normal items expected for a woman
traveler. As audio-visual bugs were planted in the room, along with a
tap on the telephone, a man with latex gloves pulled Nicole's laptop
from its case and began cloning the hard drive.
The evening, too, went as before. A late group lesson, covering the
waltzes and similar dances, lasted from seven-thirty until quarter
after eight. It was followed by a second lesson on dances similar to
the rumba from eight-fifteen 'til nine o'clock.
After she returned to her room this evening, the 'over' bet won. The
light went out at nine thirty, and the order for 'coffee with two
creams' was accompanied by a satisfied grin.
*****
Friday, February 9, 2001
Los Angeles, CA
~Typical day.~
The driver was tapping his fingers in boredom on the steering wheel;
he stopped when he noticed the glare of his partner in the other seat.
The daytime shifts had seen nothing of interest, and this evening
would be more of the same in all likelihood.
The student count was higher tonight for what the instructor called
the 'Social Dancing' lesson, and there seemed to be a variety of
skill levels present. The interesting part began when the group
lesson ended. After the early session, a second session began called
the 'Dance Party' on the schedule they'd received.
*****
She had dressed up for this evening. Despite the cool temperatures,
she pulled out her camel colored skirt and white blouse, relying on
her coat for comfort during travel. For the evening, she chose her
silver necklace and earrings. She wasn't even aware of the extra care
she had taken as she carefully applied her makeup and brushed her hair
until it glowed like burnished copper.
The social dancing lesson went okay, but it lacked any excitement.
Nicole caught herself looking at the clock a few times as she willed
the lesson to be done and the party to begin.
When the time finally arrived for the party, she looked around to see
where Rich might be. As the music started, she was disappointed to
note his absence, despite the fact she didn't know the steps. The
first dance came to an end, and she found she'd migrated slowly
toward the entrance. She found herself wondering if he'd changed his
mind about coming. Her face brightened into a smile as he walked into
the studio.
He was dressed in a pair of khaki slacks, and a white polo shirt that
showcased his broad shoulders and exposed well-muscled arms. She took
in his appearance and noted a tattoo -- an eagle, globe, and fouled
anchor -- on Rich's right forearm. A smile rose on his face as he
approached her.
"I was beginning to wonder if my dancing had scared you off." Nicole
looked him over, smiling. "It seems you got the dress code memo for
the day, at least."
He gave her a puzzled look. "Memo?"
Her smile turned into a grin. "Look at the colors you're wearing,
then look at me."
He looked at her in confusion, then at himself. The light bulb went
on as he finally made the connection. He smacked himself in the
forehead with the palm of his hand as he went "Doh!" in a very poor
Homer Simpson imitation.
Giggles erupted from the redhead. "It sounds like this dance is over;
are you ready for some fun?"
He laughed. "Yes, as long as you don't use those heels on my toes."
Taking her hand, he led her to the floor as the next dance, a waltz,
was announced.
She and Rich took their places and swept into the dance as the music
began. The tune, 'Last Waltz', was one she remembered from its debut
in 1967, and she found herself quietly singing along. Focusing on the
music, she found herself and her dance partner moving in reasonable
synchronization.
"I find it hard to believe that you've only been at this for a week.
You hardly missed a step, and I enjoyed your vocal accompaniment,
too," Rich commented.
"The two waltz lessons are helping. The timing is different, but
they're similar enough to amount to double practice." With a blush
she continued, "I enjoy singing, but I find I don't have time for
more than an in-car sing-along."
"Your voice reminds me of my grandmother's, at least as far as your
vocal range."
The music continued to vary from waltzes to tangos -- even a line
dance that Nicole took part in as Rich watched from the sidelines.
As the evening progressed, their coordination improved, though Nicole
found herself working at times to get her feet moving properly.
The last couple of dances were waltzes again, and Nicole found
herself sweeping around the floor in the arms of her tall companion.
The only problem during the party was that she found she needed to
make a visit to the ladies room between the last two numbers; she had
begun to feel awfully damp -- ~down there,~ she thought, and blushed
-- as the night progressed.
The party finally came to a close, and Nicole found Rich holding her
coat as she put it on after changing out of her heels and into flats.
He grabbed his own jacket, and the two walked out toward their
vehicles.
*****
The music had varied over a wide range of styles, some of which they
hadn't seen covered so far. For the first couple of dances, which
were styles she hadn't learned as far as they knew, she stood back
and observed. As the second dance began, the tall man from the
previous evening arrived. He seemed to look around briefly before
spotting the redhead. They spent the remainder of the class swirling
around the room as if they'd been dancing together for years.
There were long stretches where her face reflected intense
concentration on the mechanics of the dance; the man had similar
moments, but frequently slowed the pace just enough to allow his
dance partner to keep up. Later, as the music changed back to
waltzes, it seemed they both relaxed and flowed around the room in
nearly flawless synchronization.
*****
9:10PM PST
They waited, secure in the cloudy darkness. They had been hired by
someone -- they didn't know who and really didn't care -- to steal a
redheaded woman's purse. They had been chosen for their size and
strength. Both were well over six and a half feet tall and muscular;
in their line of work, it had kept them from having to work too hard,
as most of their victims rolled over rather than face the inevitable
pounding that would follow resistance.
It seemed like a stupid task, but the pay was good and the risk
minimal. The information on her whereabouts had been accurate, as
they'd watched her go in. They waited in the deeper shadows of a tree.
What they didn't see was one of the surveillance team members in a
secluded corner. He had a low-light video camera and a parabolic
microphone that were poised to capture the impending encounter.
*****
As the couple walked toward their cars, their quiet conversation
barely audible beyond a few feet, the hired muggers moved out of the
shadows.
"Give up the purse, and no-one gets hurt." said the taller of the two
thugs. His partner moved out to his left, flanking the intended
victims and cutting off an escape route.
*****
Nicole was listening as they walked slowly toward their cars, and
Rich described his early years in the Marines.
"I got bored in Oklahoma. More school just didn't sound attractive,
so I decided to enlist. I wound up at Camp Pendleton for boot camp,
and got to ride around the Pacific during my four-year hitch. It was
interesting visiting some of the places we stopped, but I decided it
wasn't really for me. The last year, they tried to get me to stay by
keeping me as an instructor at Pendleton, but...."
He broke off as Nicole stopped abruptly, turning her attention to two
figures moving out from the shadows. He watched from the corner of his
eye as one of them moved toward their escape route, and he felt
himself dropping into combat mode. The anger he felt at the
disruption of his evening was draining away, and his mind shifted
into a cool, detached state. He waited for the thugs to speak or act.
When the demand came for Nicole's purse, he noted her movement to
relinquish the item. ~She's doing the right thing for most
situations, but not this time.~ He felt her hand on his shoulder and
reached out to stop her.
*****
A long moment of silence, punctuated only by the sound of cars
passing on the street beyond the buildings, passed. The woman placed
a hand on her companion's shoulder and started to remove her purse
from her shoulder. A restraining arm held her back as the man spoke.
*****
"Back off. You've screwed up a good evening, and if you don't leave
now I'm going to take my frustrations out on you both." His voice
carried tones of irritation and utter confidence.
It was hard to tell whether the expressions on the muggers, the
woman, or the cameraman were more comical. The only certainty was
that the woman's companion was poised to attempt to carry through on
his threat.
With growls of annoyance, the two thugs moved to punish the man; they
were unused to being dismissed as a real threat and decided to prove
the futility of resisting their demands and get a bit of exercise.
*****
Rich had been out of the service for three years, but he'd kept
himself in good physical condition. These two were no larger than
some of the students he'd had at times, and now he had the added
incentive to protect Nicole. He had warned them, but they moved in
anyway.
His face never reflected his internal grin as he engaged the
attackers.
*****
The leader reached for the man, and suddenly found he was flying
head-over-heels into the ground. The sharp pain in his elbow and
shoulder was abruptly overshadowed by a greater pain in the back of
his head. The pain was snuffed out as blackness claimed his
consciousness. He didn't see the woman's companion continue to spin,
using his momentum to kick out and catch the second thug on the point
of his chin.
He collapsed as the crack of shattered bone echoed in the parking
area.
*****
Nicole had kept out of his way as Rich moved to deal with the two