The Complete Razia Series, page 36
"Whoa," she whispered to herself. As opposed to the baggy black cargo pants and loose tank she normally wore, this tight outfit made her appear sleek and slim. She adjusted the waist of the pants to smooth out the curve on her hip, taking a moment to soak in the way she looked. She shook her head, wondering why she cared, and walked out of the bathroom.
"Hey there, hot stuff," Lizbeth grinned, sitting up in bed. Her face was pale without any makeup, and her normally perfect hair was frizzed up around her ears. "You should keep those pants. They look great on you."
"Yeah well," Lyssa said, feeling uncomfortable with the praise for her body.
"Hey…can I put a little make-up on you?" Lizbeth asked cautiously as she slipped out of the bed. "Not a lot, but just…a little bit."
"I don't wear makeup."
"I know you don't. But just…a little bit."
Lyssa hesitated, unsure what to do. She'd always been quite curious about make-up, but having grown up with her father and then Tauron, she'd never had anyone around to really show her what to do. And she often felt she'd be teased mercilessly if she tried it.
But, she was already feeling rather pretty in Lizbeth's more girly clothes. And she wasn't bound to run into any blond, asshole pirates today.
"…all right," Lyssa said after a few moments.
"Sit on the toilet," Lizbeth ordered, going through her makeup.
To Lyssa's surprise, she pulled out a pair of tweezers and began tapping them together.
"What's that for?" Lyssa asked nervously.
"Just…I kind of have this eyebrow thing," Lizbeth said, walking up to Lyssa. "I won't do much, but yours need a bit of shaping."
And without another word, she climbed on top of Lyssa and straddled her on the toilet, grabbing her forehead and tilting it back.
"Whoa!" Lyssa said, too shocked to push her off.
"Ssh," Lizbeth said, inches from her face. "This will only take a moment."
"I'm very uncomfortable right now," Lyssa said, her voice filled with apprehension from the intimate way this stranger was violating her personal space.
"I don't care," Lizbeth replied, holding Lyssa's skin taunt and beginning to pluck. Lyssa winced at the sharp pain of her hair being ripped from her skin.
"Ow!" she yelped when a particularly painful hair beneath her eyebrow was ripped out.
"Ssh, ssh, ssh," Lizbeth said uncaringly, placing her thumb against the skin. "You're fine."
"Do you sexually assault all your houseguests, or am I just lucky?"
"Oh stop," Lizbeth said, before looking down at Lyssa. "You aren't gay, are you?"
"No."
"Well, you know, the tough girl act, wasn't sure," Lizbeth shrugged, continuing to pluck. "I mean, it's fine if you are—"
"I'm not," Lyssa said.
"So are you seeing anyone then?" Lizbeth asked conversationally as she plucked. "I haven't seen you with anyone or calling anyone since I met you."
"I'm not dating anyone," Lyssa replied, wincing as another painful one came out. "I don't have time for that crap."
"Yeah, with your attitude, I'm surprised you aren't still a virgin," Lizbeth smirked, winking at her. "It's probably more secure than the Universal Bank down there."
"Can we not talk about this while your crotch is on mine?"
"Fine," Lizbeth said, sitting back and giving her a tired look. "But we're not done talking about it."
After a few more minutes of uncomfortable silence and hair plucking, Lizbeth sat back and examined her handiwork.
"Much better," she sighed, turning to grab an eyebrow pencil. "Now, hold still…"
***
It was nearly two hours later when Lizbeth and Razia left the apartment. They hopped on the underground shuttle again, which was much less crowded than the day before. As Razia hung onto the pole for balance, she caught her reflection in the window and admired for a moment. Lizbeth hadn't stopped with the eyebrows and the eyeliner, but spent some time on Razia's hair as well. Razia normally only brushed it after she got out of the shower and left the rest to fate. Thanks to Lizbeth's flat iron, today it was bouncy and full of shine.
That, plus the tight black clothes, made Razia feel gorgeous, even standing next to Lizbeth.
Lizbeth smiled when she caught Razia watching her reflection. "See how much better you feel when you put forth a little effort?"
"Too much effort," Razia said, quickly looking away.
"You're a piece of work," Lizbeth sighed, but she was smiling.
At a stop near the presidential palace, three U-POL Officers walked on, deep in conversation. Razia caught the reflection of their gold-trimmed markings before realizing one of them was the same lieutenant who had almost arrested her the year before.
And the third one was Jukin.
She was suddenly on edge. Lizbeth stood up straighter as well, especially when the lieutenant spotted them on the train.
Razia's eyes met Jukin's and she wondered whom he saw. The last person he had seen was Lyssa Peate, but today she was dressed as a pirate. Razia and Jukin had never actually had a conversation, she realized, although she was sure that he was quite familiar with her, especially after the kidnapping incident last year.
"You!" he snarled unhelpfully.
"I have a name you know," Razia replied as casually as she could. Lizbeth didn't move to say anything, continuing to glance between the two of them.
"I'd prefer not to use it, pirate," Jukin spat.
Razia smirked, but inside she was churning violently. He had seen both Lyssa and Razia but hadn't made the connection. Something about that hurt very deep inside of her, and it made her irrationally angry towards him.
And again, she was reminded that it would only take one word—one small hint that she was both Razia, the hated bounty hunter, and Lyssa, the hated sister—and his entire career, his life, in fact, would be over.
"What are you doing cavorting with criminals, Carter?" Jukin, ignorant of Razia's inner turmoil, had turned his attention to Lizbeth.
"Well, since you were so unhelpful when I asked you for help," Lizbeth said, relaxing a little bit with a shared look to Razia, "I opted to employ someone who would get me results."
Razia smiled and folded her arms over her chest, the inner voice increasing in volume as Jukin stood next to them. She was sure he could hear it, as loud as it was in her mind.
"You should be careful," Jukin said with an air of superiority. "Hiring a pirate is illegal under the Piracy Act."
"Then you'll be glad to know that I'm volunteering out of the kindness of my heart," Razia replied, struggling to stay present and not fall back into her churning mind. "But knowing that it pisses you off too, well…all the more reason for me to help out!"
"You had better watch your tongue, pirate," the young lieutenant replied. His name tag read Opli.
"Calm down, junior," Razia said, flashing him a grin. "I'm a card-carrying member of Dissident's web now. No need for hostage taking today."
"Don't think I've forgotten about that," Jukin snarled.
"Good to know you haven't forgotten about that one," Razia muttered, and the voice began roaring within her. Jukin remembered Vel being kidnapped, but couldn't seem to recall when his own sister had a gun pointed to her head. Not as if he cared then, either. "Be my guest," he had said, as if inviting Tauron to take out the garbage.
And then the son of a bitch killed Tauron.
The ache grew more painful and it was hard to keep her face stoic.
"Don't say I didn't warn you, Carter," Jukin said, stepping closer to them and ignorant of the war inside of Razia. "This pirate may have protections now, but we'll see how long that lasts. And when that happens, you may want to reconsider your alliances."
"Well, this is our stop," Lizbeth said, as the shuttle slowed. She grabbed onto Razia's arm tighter than was probably necessary as she dragged her off. "Pleasure, as always, Captain Peate—"
"See ya around, Jukin!" Razia said icily as the door closed and the shuttle left the station.
"Why do you have to do that?" Lizbeth asked, exasperated. "He could have recognized you!"
"Let him," Razia said, eager to talk about something else. "What did you mean back there about him not wanting to help you?"
"A few weeks ago, when you so maturely stormed into his office, I was there giving him all of my findings to date. Spent an hour showing concrete proof that pirates were involved in major insurance fraud, and he said he wasn't interested."
Razia stopped in her tracks, all previous thoughts about Lyssa and Razia gone from her mind. "Hang on…Jukin wasn't interested?"
"That's what he said before he threw me out of his office. I thought it was because a certain sister had just pissed him off, but he refused to see me again when I tried to schedule another meeting."
"But he's always looking for something to arrest pirates for," Razia said, watching the empty hole the shuttle disappeared through. "That's his thing?"
"That's what I thought too," Lizbeth said, stepping out into the city streets above. "So that's why I'm not willing to share any more information with anyone else until I get some top-cover."
***
"Name?"
"Razia."
She handed over her C-card with a scowl. Since the Intelligence Agency where Lizbeth worked was a secure facility, Razia had to be cleared for entry into the Investigative Division offices. This was after walking through four metal detectors, five key-carded doors. Now she had to receive approval for a visitor's badge from an annoyed, gray-uniform-clad security guard.
"That's not a name," the woman sighed, looking at the card closely. "And this isn't a valid identification. There's not even a last name on here!"
"Give her your other one," Lizbeth said impatiently. "I only have half an hour before my meeting, and I need to stop by my desk and prepare."
"Come on," Razia whined. Lizbeth elbowed her roughly, and Razia handed over her Lyssa Peate C-card. The woman took it and began typing furiously in her computer.
"Who are you visiting?" she snapped.
"Me, Lizbeth Carter," Lizbeth replied, hopping from one foot to the other. "MC-IF-PIR."
"What in Leveman's does that mean?" Razia asked.
"Acronym for my office code," Lizbeth replied, more focused on the woman in front of them.
"And what is your purpose for visiting?"
"Meeting," Lizbeth said. "And she'll be here for just one day."
The guard handed Lizbeth a tablet which she signed and placed her thumbprint on. The tablet shone green, and she handed it back to the woman.
"You will have to leave your mini-computers here, please," the woman said to Razia.
"What?" Razia looked to Lizbeth in horror. "Why do I have to give up my mini-computer?"
"It's not a cleared device," Lizbeth said, taking the aforementioned device out of Razia's hand and giving it to the woman. Razia leaned forward with a pained look on her face, as if a piece of her soul had just been ripped away.
"But…!"
"You'll get it back," Lizbeth said, handing Razia the red visitor's badge and dragging her down the hall into a room filled with dark blue cubicles. She weaved down one aisle, then another, then took a left, then a right, until she reached a desk covered in neatly arranged stacks of papers.
"Okay, stay here," Lizbeth ordered. "I'm going to go pre-brief my boss before I bring you in. Isaac, if anyone comes by, just say she's with me." She nodded to the man across the cubicle hall, who turned to examine her.
"Okay?" Lizbeth pressed to the man, who seemed about sixty. He grunted in response, returning to his computer, slowly reading through the bottom lens of his thick glasses. With an exasperated noise, Lizbeth disappeared in a blaze of curls.
Razia suddenly became aware of the sterile office environment she now found herself in. All around her, the quiet click of fingers on keyboards, the soft conversations and ringing of communicators, with the occasional ding of an incoming message. There was a man on the other side of the cloth wall, as Razia could hear him coughing every few minutes, a loud, throat-clearing garble that was annoying the first time she heard it.
In other cubicles, Razia saw other government workers—including one woman who had come to work in sweatpants. Most of the workers didn't even give her a passing glance, too engrossed in working as slowly as possible. She even saw one woman working on what appeared to be a novel while her messages inbox remained empty.
Razia felt bad for Lizbeth, who was a veritable fireball of energy compared to these slowpokes. When Razia was at the Academy, she had to deal with some idiot professors and lab partners, and it was always frustrating. Lizbeth was probably bored out of her mind working here; it was no wonder she spent so much time in the field.
With nothing else to do, Razia sat down at Lizbeth's desk and began leafing through the papers piled in the corner. Every one was the same format, a Form 2875 used to report on pirate activity. These weren't related to the big case that Lizbeth and Razia were working on, but seemed to be smaller open-and-shut cases. Razia found a couple of humorous ones that reminded her of some of the jobs Tauron used to do. One featured a woman who had reported a set of her husband's expensive sculptures missing only to discover them in her lover's bedroom. Another was a case where one sibling had hired pirates to steal a family heirloom, and then the other sibling was hiring pirates to steal it back.
Another report was about a business claiming that all of their shipments had been hijacked, but it turned out the business had just encountered a bad string of luck and the case wasn't insurance fraud after all.
Razia pulled a thick folder at the bottom of the pile and found the stash of background information on the pirate meeting. She was slightly impressed with Lizbeth's formality and attention to detail. She documented detailed conversations with Sage about the upcoming secret pirate meeting and discussed a meeting on D-882 between Cree Hardrict and a man named Alfr Jos, and another meeting between Jos and Krishna Harman.
Harman was the bald man, Razia reminded herself. The one who was guarding the shipment of guns Relleck was delivering.
The guns were more concerning to her than anything else she'd found so far. Pirates didn't use guns. It put a damper on the whole "game" aspect of piracy if there was a chance a pirate could be killed in the process (Jukin's aspirations aside).
Razia flipped through the case studies again, searching for Relleck's name on any of the reports. She paused at one from over six months ago. Relleck had commandeered a shipment from G-245, a shipment owned by Salazar Shipping. Without her mini-computer, she couldn't verify it, but she was pretty sure Salazar was the same company that owned the ship Relleck hijacked the day before. She wondered if the hijacking described in this report had been as easy as the one she saw yesterday.
Her attention was quickly diverted when she heard loud stomping coming up the cubicle aisle.
A red-faced Lizbeth came flying into the cubicle.
"This is…Ugh!"
"Bad meeting?" Razia asked lightly, quickly putting the manila folder down.
"They told me to leave it alone!" Lizbeth screamed, drawing the attention of nearly all of her cube-mates. "They said, 'Oh, if it's pirates, you should leave it alone.'"
"But…isn't that what you do?"
"Yes!" Lizbeth exclaimed. "I work for the Goddamned pirate division!"
Razia nodded and shrunk down into her seat as Lizbeth continued pacing in the small cubicle.
"They won't approve any more travel funds for this effort, they told me I have to work on some other case now," Lizbeth continued, throwing more papers into her bag. "God in Leveman's Vortex, I hate working for the government!"
Razia wasn't sure how to respond, so she sat in silence.
"Leveman's!" she cried, on the verge of tears. "I need a drink. Let's go get a drink. I can't stand to be here any longer."
"But we just got here?" Razia said, following Lizbeth out the door.
***
Lizbeth was still fuming when they stepped off the shuttle in her neighborhood, but Razia finally felt as if she'd cooled off enough to be able to speak without biting Razia's head off.
"So what happened?" Razia asked cautiously.
"So I get in there," Lizbeth said, her voice shaking, "and I tell my boss about the guns and about everything we've found out to date, about Hardrict, about the meeting, all of that. And he listened for a minute and told me to sit down, that he was pulling me off this case."
"Did he say why?"
"He gave me some bullshit excuse about needing to spread cases amongst the team, and told me that I was doing too much." Lizbeth shook her head. "You know, I should just quit. Nobody ever listens to me anyways. I get up there and I talk about these cases, and my boss just asks these inane questions that have nothing to do with what I just spoke about. And I put together these fifteen-page reports every day, and nobody ever reads them. Then they have the audacity to say, 'I have no idea what you're talking about.' Read the damn report I sent you!"
Razia nodded, unsure of what to say or how to react, but was quite sure Lizbeth needed to vent. When her father would go off on angry tirades, it was usually best to pretend like she didn't exist.
"And I feel like I'm doing all this work…and nobody's supporting me," Lizbeth finished, sounding more defeated than angry as they walked into the lift. "I know there's something going on here. I just know it."
Razia said nothing, still waiting for the rest of the rant to come before she tried to say anything.
"You know what?" Lizbeth snarled. "Screw it. I'm going to continue this investigation on my own. I'm going to find out what's really going on here and shove it in their fat faces. I don't care if they fire me, I know I'm—"
Lizbeth's breath caught in her throat as her eyes stared ahead.
"My door is open."
The hair on Razia's neck stood up, and she threw a protective arm in front of Lizbeth. She knew they had gotten away from the warehouse too easily. They shouldn't have come back to the apartment; they should have gone to a hotel or…
"We should call the police," Lizbeth whispered.
