Mina darted for the door and then the bike rack, hearing yells and protests behind her. A glance back told her that two of the men were still trying to work their way through people, but one of them was right behind her—the man who'd gone for something under his coat. She was grateful to see he'd thought better of drawing a gun in a shop and drawing more attention to himself, but a quick assessment told her that he'd reach her before she'd be able to get her bike off the rack and get out of the lot.
She pulled her bike free as she reached it, then whirled, trying to catch him off guard. To her surprise, as quickly as she was moving—and much as she thought she'd read him right—he blocked her swing perfectly. His left hand came in low before she could recover herself, knocking the wind out of her. She went into a more defensive stance, and tried to feint to open him up for a return shot, her chip feeding her information and moves as fast as she could process them. He ignored the feint and once again blocked her swing, catching her wrist mid-punch and pulling her into a swing of his own. Mina saw stars as she hit the ground.
“Hey!” came a shout from the parking lot. “Leave her alone!”
Two boys around her age had been leaning against an old beater car, eating their lunch between classes, and had finally caught up with what was going on enough to react. Mina saw the man again go for his gun by reflex, think better of it, and turn to face them. She could see the other two men reaching the doorway, even as the restaurant was exploding into chaos.
Mina kicked as hard as she could for the man's ankle while he was distracted, and he went down hard with a yell. She kicked up to her feet, grabbing for her bike. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw one of the other men who'd been in the restaurant going for a gun, before the last punched his shoulder, shouting something about not being an idiot.
Jumping on her bike, Mina spared a glance back over her shoulder as she headed for the nearest alleyway that went through to the next street, trying to make sure she could disappear before a car could catch up with her. All three had given up on their sandwich order and were running for their car, shoving students out of the way as necessary and keeping their heads down.
It was only when she was several blocks away with no signs of pursuit that she relaxed. As soon as she did, the realization struck her. She'd had to get close enough to pick up the hints of gun oil. Her chip hadn't told her the men were armed. The man who almost caught her—it had read his training, stance, and moves entirely wrong. Worse, he'd moved every bit as fast as she could, countering her perfectly. Something was horribly wrong.
* * * *
After the encounter at the sandwich shop, Mina was positive the three men had something to do with the abduction, and the evidence suggested Scott was still alive. Or someone had the same tastes and allergies he did. As soon as she felt like she had definitely eluded any pursuit, she called the Director. The fact she hadn't entirely caught her breath yet didn't help matters any as she tried to explain what had happened. After forcing herself to slow down, she started over.
“Yes, this is Mina ... I have ... have information.”
I'm aware of that, Miss Cortez. I know your number and voice, but you shouldn't be calling here.”
“Unless it’s an emergency, yes, I know. This qualifies.”
There was a brief pause on the other end, and the Director's voice went from mildly scolding to serious. “Are you in some kind of trouble ... again?”
“No ... yes ... I mean ... not immediately. I found something ... someone ... someones. I have a license plate number.” Mina stumbled over her words, not at all appreciating having the recent events brought up when she was trying to relay critical information.
“What have you done? And what's this about a license plate?”
Mina relayed the numbers and letters. “You need to trace that. It has something to do with the case.”
“I'll determine that when you tell me why you think that.”
Mina kicked a wall in frustration, but went through the sequence of events. She emphasized how they'd been moving and reacting as quickly as she was, and she hadn't picked up on their being armed until she got close. To her further annoyance, the first thing that got a verbal reaction was when she was asked to explain the bit with the sandwiches again.
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.