Chapter Thirty

Dwindling Choices

 

Without any source of income, she began to make money the only way she knew how. At first she started a gambling ring on campus, taking bets and running games. When that got busted, she escalated to embezzling, stealing from the Academy and selling items on the black market.

She did whatever it took to survive. Her education became secondary. Unfortunately, she did not understand what survival here meant.

 

As soon as the team realized the severity of Tarfur’s injury, they moved him into the street where emergency medical units could easily pick him up. Then, following protocol for enemy or neutral territory, they fled the scene. It was the only thing they could do, and it gave Tarfur the best chance of survival.

They moved to a safe distance and waited until an ambulance arrived, then tailed it to the hospital. Hekla stayed to keep tabs on Tarfur while the rest of the team returned to the estate. Roen started working the diplomatic channels to extract Tarfur out of the country.

The team tried to hide their worry. As agents and soldiers, all of them had experienced death, but that made it no less painful every time it happened. The military was close-knit.

Roen excused himself to his room. He stared at the comm device resting on the desk. He dreaded making this call, but it was long overdue. It wasn’t unusual for agents to be out of communication for extended periods of time. It was the nature of their business. Months could go by before he could report in. However, this particular situation was unique. Roen activated the line. Even at this age, he hated getting yelled at.

Especially by his wife.

A three-dimensional projection of Jill Tesser Tan, newly retired Keeper of the Prophus, floated in the air in front of him. The smarter and more competent half of their thirty-plus year marriage had her arms crossed: a bad sign. She also wore the same facial expression she used when she was about to order an air strike. “You’re not in Australia.”

“Hi love,” chirped Roen cheerfully. “How’s retirement? Are you keeping the garden alive?”

“Most of it was dead by the time I got home. Answer the damn question.”

“But you didn’t ask…” Roen swallowed the rest of the sentence. When you ran a global military and financial empire like Jill had for the past quarter-century, every word that came out of your mouth tended to sound like an order. “Ella Patel wasn’t there. They expelled her six months ago. I tracked her to Tokyo and made contact when the Genjix got involved.”

“You weren’t supposed to go after her, Roen,” seethed Jill. “The moment the Genjix attacked the Academy, you should have pulled out. I would have sent Cameron or another team to track Ella down. Instead, the last I hear, you head straight into Genjix territory and go dark for weeks. I thought you were dead!”

“I couldn’t risk it.” He withered under her gaze. “The safehouse here was compromised; they went on lockdown. I was also busy trying to track the girl down. She’s a slippery fish.”

“Roen, we have Prophus teams who specialize in deep-cover retrieval. Teams like the one your son leads. You should have discussed your next move with me before you ran off into the heart of Genjix space. You’re not a young man any more.” Jill’s eyes narrowed. “Admit it, you didn’t call in sooner because you knew I’d pull you off the mission.”

She didn’t need him to respond. “I only went on this job because Cameron knew I was bored out of my mind at home,” he snapped back. “If I had known you were going to retire, I would have bought that sailboat and planned our trip down the west coast.”

His wife shot him the same look she gave whenever she caught him breaking his diet. “I know, Roen. You already bought the boat.”

He was shocked. “You know?”

“When will you ever learn? I know everything. You have it docked at the harbor under–” she picked up a tablet and held it up “–Ricky Manuto. You christened her The Basskicker. Really? That’s the name you’re going to go with?”

Roen held up both fists. “What? It’s a play on words.”

Jill held up a hand. “Oh no, I get it. I love you more than life itself, almost as much as I love my son, but you are an idiot. You cannot use that name, Roen.”

“Why not? I think it’s fine. We can agree to disagree.”

“No, Roen. You can’t.”

“OK.”

She took a deep breath. “Give me a sit-rep.”

“We found Ella, but she ran. The yakuza attempted to kidnap her. We went to her apartment, got our asses handed to us by Shura the Scalpel. You remember her, right? She’s a real piece of work these days, and I mean that kindly. She beat all of us up with her bare hands.”

“I hate to remind you of this, darling, but you’re an old wrinkly fart now.”

Roen reflexively rolled his shoulders, feeling the aches shoot down his back. “Tell me about it. By the way, can you call Dr Stevens and order more dentures? I broke mine.”

“Of course you did. Where is the girl now?”

He hesitated. “We lost her again. After our dustup with Shura the cops arrived and we had to bail. One of our guys took a knife to the chest.”

Jill dropped her jaw. “Wha–”

“He’s in the hospital at the moment. He may need extraction.”

Her face turned ashen as he spoke, then red. Roen could see her hands curl into fists. “Let me get this straight.” She ticked off her fingers. “I brought you out of retirement so this could be done quietly. But now the yakuza, Genjix, police, probably the Japanese government, and even the Prophus are officially involved? How did you manage to get the entire world in on a clandestine retrieval job?”

“You make it sound a lot worse than it actually is.” He paused. “No wait, you’re right. It’s that bad.”

“Do you at least know why they’re after her?”

“I’m still working on that. We have a few more leads to follow.” That was a lie.

“I’m sending a team to pick you up,” said Jill. “The situation has gotten too hot for my senior citizen husband to handle.” She paused. “But you’re having fun, right?”

“I am,” he admitted. “I haven’t had this much fun in years. I always did think I took a desk job way too early.”

“That’s not what you told me when you took the liaison position with the United States’s Alien Task Force.”

“That’s unfair,” he protested. “I was literally in body cast at the time they made the offer. In any case, I’d rather be home with you. Thanks for giving me a heads-up about your retirement. How did that go down so quickly?”

“I was in a meeting with the entire Prophus Command talking about maritime lanes in the Gulf of Aden, and I just started daydreaming about you, our house, and that sailing trip you keep going on about. I called Angie to my office that night and told her I was done. The woman probably could use another year of seasoning, but she’ll be fine.”

Roen was stunned. “So it was your idea to retire? She didn’t force it?”

There was a twinkle in Jill’s eyes. “She begged me to stay for another year, but my mind was already on The Basskicker with the wind blowing through my hair.”

Roen’s grin spread ear to ear. “Give me a few days. I’ll make it happen. Other than that, how’s retirement treating you?”

“I hate to say it, but I’m bored,” laughed Jill. “It’s only been a week since I got home, and I’m already getting cabin fever.”

He missed her laugh. It had been a long time since he heard her so unrestrained. “You’ll get used to it,” he said, softly. Roen really hated this assignment right now. “It’ll get better once I come home.”

There was a pause. Both of their brains were switching from powerful agents of a covert alien organization to two people who had loved each other for a very long time.

“You look like you’ve been eating well.” She squinted. “Too well.”

“I miss you,” choked Roen.

They spoke differently. They were no longer two of the most important people in the world. They were used to never having time for small talk, even with each other. For the first time in a long time, their conversation was unhurried, and they could dwell on the details that only a couple with decades together could care about.

Roen asked about her day and told her about how good it felt being back in the field. Jill spoke about how wonderful it was being in the kitchen again, and regaled him with a story of her adventure trying to make poached eggs. He reminded her that she was allowed to sleep in late, now that the weight of the world no longer rested on her shoulders, but that it was of life-and-death importance that she order a new set of dentures for him. She ribbed him gently to watch his diet and to stretch before he got into another fight.

“You have to especially take care of your knees,” she said. “I plan to have many long walks with my husband, and those woods in the backyard aren’t conducive to wheelchairs.”

There was a knock on the door. Pedro stuck his head in. “Sir, I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s something out here you need to see.”

“What is it?” asked Roen. Then he heard it. A metal clanging echoed in the room outside. At first he thought it was gunfire or someone hammering on water pipes, and then he perked up. It was a gong. Someone was buzzing on the intercom at the estate’s front gates. He turned back to Jill. “I have to go.”

“Go, go,” she waved. “Find Ella Patel and come back to me.”

“I’m coming home soon.” Roen’s voice took a steely note. “I don’t care if I have to throw Ella in a potato sack and stow her in–”

Jill held up a hand. “Just be safe. By the way, I’m sending in a retrieval team. They’ll arrive within two days.”

“That’s not necessary,” he protested. The look she gave him told him she thought it was.

“I’m also sending in the 3rd Pacific Fleet.”

“Funny,” grinned Roen. Then he realized she wasn’t joking. “Keep the garden alive. Also try to clean the pool. I expect tasty poached eggs by the time I come home.”

The projection died. Roen leaped out of his chair and left the room. Pedro handed him a shotgun and fell in beside him. The rest of the team was already armed, each at a window facing the front gate. Even Asha had joined the fun. She may have a hole in her stomach, but there she was, crouched next to the kitchen window with a sniper rifle in hand.

Roen checked the rounds and cocked the shotgun. He turned off the lights and clicked the intercom. “Who is it?”

There was a series of high squeaks and excited chatter. Finally, a girl spoke. “We’re Ella’s friends. We think she’s in trouble.”

“Who is with you?”

A boy answered this time. “It’s just us. You guys helped us against the yakuza.”

Their reasons were as good as any. It still sounded like a trap though. If it were the Genjix, yakuza, or police, the team was as good as dead anyway. That’s what Roen generally hated about safehouses above ground: they were vulnerable from every angle. The upside was he didn’t have to wade through sewage every day.

He decided to spring it rather than waiting for someone else to make the first move. He had promised Jill he’d hurry up and return home this week. Roen signaled to the team to hold their fire and buzzed the outer gate to open. The team tracked the group of kids walking onto the estate grounds. They cowered as he opened the front door and beckoned them to approach with his shotgun.

The fear on their faces was real. These kids weren’t faking. He closed the door behind them and signaled for the team to stand down. They followed orders, but no one looked friendly. The atmosphere in the room was as thick as soup. Nabin, Asha and Pedro were openly scowling, and their gazes followed the kids as if they had stolen something, which of course they actually had a week ago. That was beside the point. Asha still held the rifle in her hand, daring the kids to make a move. Josie had her arms crossed as if she were a Catholic school teacher watching for students to cheat on a test.

None of this was helping matters. Roen decided to defuse the situation. He beckoned for the kids to follow him to the couch. “You’re among friends.” That was more to his team than Ella’s people. “You guys are safe. Anyone need a drink?”

Most of them raised their hands. One of the younger ones piped up, “Do you have any more of that chocolate cake?”

Pedro broke into a chuckle. “So that’s where the bite marks came from. I’ll get the cups.”

The girl bowed and offered to help. That broke a little of the tension. Within a few minutes, the team and Ella’s friends were sitting on the couches with a pitcher of water and snacking on shrimp chips. No cake though; Josie had polished off the last of it.

Once everyone settled in, Nabin pressed forward. “What is going on with Ella?”

The kids exchanged glances, and then one of the older ones – a young tattooed man who introduced himself as Hinata – spoke. “She’s missing. After you helped us get away at the World-Famous, a woman tried to kidnap Pek. She made him tell her where Ella lived.” He nudged the youngest boy. “Tell them, Pek.”

“We ran into her at Ella’s apartment,” grimaced Pedro. “What about her?”

Pek exchanged looks with Hinata and then piped up shyly. “The pretty woman’s driver was yakuza. I saw his tattoos.”

Roen nodded. “We suspected Shura could be working with them. Now we know, but I don’t know how that gets us any closer to locating Ella.”

“We think the yakuza may know where she is,” said the one named Lee. “Their boss was after Ella because she beat up his son. He was also the one who tried to lure her into a trap at the World-Famous Bar & Udon. We think he has her.”

“We don’t know where the gang’s base is located,” said Josie.

Hinata raised his hand. “I can take you there. They’re based in a warehouse near the docks. I used to work for them.”

Josie looked dubious. “That’s a pretty tenuous lead.”

“It’s the only one we have,” said Nabin.

“What do you think, Roen?” asked Josie.

There were no strong options. It was either follow a weak lead or wait. Wait for what though? They were at a dead end. Still, Roen hated going fishing off weak intel, particularly around the yakuza. That was just asking for trouble.

The main gate gonged again. Someone else was coming. The guns rematerialized in his people’s hands. Even some of Ella’s friends pulled out their sports equipment.

It was Hekla. She walked through the front door of the main house and stared. “What’s going on? Am I interrupting something?”

The weapons lowered. The team was far too on edge right now.

“It’s nothing,” said Roen. “These are Ella’s friends. We’re wondering if we should follow up on a lead. How’s Tarfur?”

Before the words left his mouth, he knew the answer. Hekla’s gaze lowered. “He didn’t make it.”

Roen’s stomach clenched. Over thirty years as a Prophus agent, and every death was still a punch to the gut.

“How?” exclaimed Pedro. “It was just a stab wound. I’ve seen that guy take worse playing rugby.”

Hekla’s face was grim. “Poison on the blade.”

The room became still. It took a few moments for the news to sink in. Then Pedro slammed his fist onto the table and screamed. Asha embraced him and the two huddled silently.

“If you will excuse me,” said Hekla, “I need to notify his wife.”

Roen stared at the cup of water in his hand. He wished it was something like vodka right now. He had thought his days of losing people were over. A wave of remorse washed over him. He thought he had written his last death notification when he had quit the field. Hekla may disagree, but this one was on him.

He stopped her as she passed. “I’ll do it.”

Hekla shook him off. “He’s my man.”

“I’m the one running this crap show.”

“With all due respect, over my dead body, sir.”

He nodded and let her go.

Josie touched his shoulder lightly. “The kids are still here. What do you want to do about Ella?”

Roen downed the water, crumpled the plastic cup in his hand, and threw it angrily at the garbage can, missing his mark by the length of half the room. He had never played baseball as a kid. “What the hell. We’re sitting on our asses anyway. Let’s go check it out.”