Running Off Radar, page 8
Maji shook her head and motioned her back, then looked to the officer, lifting both hands and placing them above her head. “I have a permitted weapon in a kidney carry holster.”
Rose felt a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t we all sit over there,” she heard. “Rose, right?”
She turned and saw George’s name tag hanging askew. “Thanks, Dr. Koreki.” The other two hovered behind him, looking pleased but concerned. “Thank you, all.”
Additional sirens wailed as a black Jeep with a police logo and an Alaska State Trooper vehicle wove their way through the crowd that had gathered in the parking lot. Over by the ambulance, Rose noted, some fishermen stood protectively close as the medics loaded Dee in on a stretcher and Heather climbed in behind them.
“I’ll be right with you,” Rose said, patting George’s shoulder and trying to project calm. She watched as the officer finished his pat down of Maji’s front and sides. Without waiting for him to ask, Maji turned and faced the wall, hands still resting on her head. Rose held her breath as the officer lifted the back of Maji’s jacket and withdrew the semi-automatic Rose had watched her clean only hours earlier.
“Where’s the permit?” he asked in a neutral tone.
“Billfold, back right pants pocket,” Maji responded. She sounded completely unruffled and didn’t flinch when he plucked the little leather folder out. He opened it and started scanning her ID.
“Stand aside,” came a commanding voice behind Rose. She turned and saw two imposing men in blue uniforms and trooper hats striding toward the Sitka officers. “Donna, Joe,” the one in the lead said. “Give you a hand?”
“Hey Sam, Stu,” the woman officer said. “One of you could watch the two in custody, that’d be great.”
“Sure thing,” Trooper Sam or Stu said and nodded toward Maji. “What about her?”
“She’s with us.” He tapped Maji on the elbow and said, “Here you go, ma’am.”
Maji accepted her gun and billfold and motioned Rose to join the helpful trio of colleagues now seated at the picnic table.
Rose sat and watched Officer Joe scribble notes while Maji talked. Then Maji walked him over to the table and said, “Officer, this is Dr. Rose diStephano. She’s under federal protection. You can interview her, but keep her a Jane Doe in the paper and computer record. Please.”
Rose heard a huh from behind her, and she did not look to see if it was George or one of the other two. Hopefully Maji would fill her in before she had to speak with them again.
The local cop looked uncertain about the request. Maji’s face betrayed neither anxiety nor impatience as she pulled a card from her billfold and handed it to him.
“Call the number,” Maji said. “We’ll be in the Tribal Tours bus when you’re ready for us.”
* * *
Maji gave Rose a hand up, but then stopped to shake each man’s hand. To George she asked, “Army?”
“Marines,” he replied.
She tried to look unimpressed. “Good enough in a pinch.”
Laughter and voices rehashing the adventure provided a calming backdrop as Maji steered Rose toward the bus. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Rose answered. “Shaken, but…fine. You?”
“Right as rain.” When Rose stopped and looked at her sternly, Maji backpedaled. “Really fine. Just bruises. I need to make a call.” At the bus door she asked, “Could you get my water bottle?”
As expected, Rose was happy to help. Maji dialed into Command while Rose stepped inside. When the operator answered she opened with, “Rios for IC. Orange.”
She held while the operator put her through to whoever was incident commander on shift at the Dogpatch, her unit’s twenty-four seven operations control center.
“Wyatt. Report.” At the sound of her commanding officer’s voice, Maji took a deep breath.
“Incident in Sitka. Two Russian mercs tried to render a fishing boat captain from the harbor. Both in custody of city PD, who will be calling to check my creds.”
“Roger that. What’s your condition?”
“Five by five.”
“Is Doc secure?”
Maji nearly smiled at the colonel’s use of Rose’s call sign. That JSOC had adopted the nickname that the girls at self-defense camp created tickled her. “Yes, sir. Target appears unrelated. However, I asked the locals to keep Doc’s name off record. I said she was under federal protection.” Vague yet persuasive, she hoped.
“Well congratulations, Sergeant. You are now with Diplomatic Security. Tell Doc to limit how much she says about her daddy the ambassador.”
Yep, that would do in a pinch. “Hooah, sir. Rios out.”
Maji locked the screen and dropped the phone in her pocket, wondering if she should call Hannah next. Instead, she poked her head into the bus.
Rose held out the bottle of water, a frown creasing her brow. “That wasn’t Hannah, was it?”
Maji shook her head, uncapping and drinking down half a liter before saying more. “Let’s sit and chat.”
They left the bus door ajar for air and watched the local police load the suspects into two vehicles. “What did those men want?”
“Don’t know. They fed me bullshit, and I rolled with it. All I know for sure is they weren’t after you.”
Rose blinked at her. “They were Russian, weren’t they? But not all Russian thugs work for you know who. Surely.”
Maji put a hand on the small of Rose’s back. She wished she could hold her, but now was not the time. “Of course not. Could be anything—drug deal gone bad, roofies, maybe even fishing rights or some local crap like that.”
Rose looked unconvinced. “They were wearing Xtratufs and overalls.”
Brand-shiny-new ones. “Exactly. And you did so well backing me up. Thank you. I want you to call Hannah and tell her everything. She’ll be really proud.”
Looking out at the cops still interviewing witnesses, Rose asked, “And the police? Is there anything you want me to say or not say?”
“Let’s keep it simple. You’re here for the conference, this was a total surprise. Stick to what you saw and heard.”
“What about that federal protection business? Tell me you just made that up.”
Normally Maji wouldn’t tell a civilian that she was using a cover, but in this case it seemed unavoidable given Colonel Wyatt’s instructions. She laughed. Either it really was funny, or she was getting punchy as the adrenaline dropped. “Officially, you are now an ambassador’s daughter and I am your security detail from Diplomatic Security.”
“Is that really a thing? I mean, legitimate?”
“It is indeed. But you might want to decline to discuss your father.”
Rose looked unamused. Not knowing her biological father’s identity had long been a sore point. But then she shook her head and sighed. “Why not. But if I have to pretend that I’m not your girlfriend again, I will not be laughing.”
“Me either. How about this—we act just like we have been, and let them wonder whether we’re pretending as part of a really clever cover, or if I’m actually bad at my job.”
“Shh.” Rose pointed at the officer approaching.
Maji gave Rose’s hand a squeeze. “Call Hannah,” she said and stepped down out of the bus.
Officer Donna, who seemed to be in command of the scene, reconfirmed the details Maji had given her partner. She looked satisfied and shook Maji’s hand. “We have enough from the other witnesses. That’ll be all for today.”
Rose was off the hook, then. Good. Maji popped back in to check on her.
“Are we done?” Rose asked, looking deflated.
Time for some TLC. Maji smiled. “Yep. You think those tideflats will be here tomorrow?”
“I hope so. Right now I’d love a glass of wine and a good meal. If you’re available.”
“I’m all yours. Room service?”
Rose smiled. “Better. There’s a place near here that’s highly recommended. Though I doubt they serve breakfast for dinner.”
Maji grinned at her. Eggs and anything was her comfort food of choice after a run-in. Since their first night together, when Rose had invited her home and cooked her an omelet, it had become a ritual. But not tonight. “I guess I could settle for fresh seafood—if they also have tapas.”
“How did you know?” Rose’s surprise was gratifying.
“There aren’t that many great places to eat in this town. Everyone agrees on Ludvig’s, even the cops.”
“Oh. Well, I think we’ve earned it. And Hannah agrees.”
Chapter Seven
The casual interior of Ludvig’s belied its farm-to-table gourmet menu. Maji’s mouth watered at the descriptions of fresh halibut with oyster mushrooms and asparagus risotto, wild Alaskan paella, grilled duck…“Want to share the black cod tips appetizer?”
Rose tilted her menu down to make eye contact across the little polished wood table. “Yes. And then I want to try everything else on the menu. We may have to eat here every night.”
Maji agreed. “I’m amazed a town this size can support a place this cool. Thank you, tourists. This is exactly the kind of place I wanted to take you last summer.”
“No,” Rose replied. “It’s the kind of place I wanted to take you. Remember, I told Ang he should take you to Brio.”
Maji looked away, instinctively hiding the pain she felt at Rose’s mention of her cousin Angelo. Rose, like most of the world, believed he was dead. And as Maji could never see her old teammate again, he kind of was. She didn’t feel guilty, as Rose suspected, for Angelo’s fate. Only for the pain it caused Rose, and his mother, and the rest of the family not now in prison. Rose’s hand on hers made Maji meet her gaze again.
Rose asked, “Have you talked to someone? Hannah, Bubbles…a counselor?”
Hannah, yes. And not another soul. Only five people knew what they’d done—herself, Hannah, Tom, and Dev. And of course Angelo, assuming he was still alive wherever he had ended up. Even JSOC didn’t know what they’d pulled off, only that Angelo had managed to bankrupt most of the world’s organized crime rings in one fell swoop, by stealing trillions of dollars from their electronic bank accounts. They thought he’d run a suicide mission for himself, while tricking his best friends from his Army team into helping. By now, Rose would know enough from the media to think the same. “Yes.”
“Good.” Thankfully, Rose didn’t press further.
“How about you?”
“Oh, I’ve talked to Aunt Jackie and Nonna, of course,” she replied, naming Angelo’s mother and their shared grandmother, the formidable Benedetti matriarch.
Typical Rose, looking out for everyone else. Maji raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m sure that helps them, but what about you?”
“I saw a grief counselor for a little while, and joined the jujitsu club on campus. Talking and hitting things—you know.” Rose smiled to accentuate the inside joke. “I have some very nice friends, plus Bubbles checks on me by phone.”
A cheerful woman with a server’s waist apron over her floor-length skirt greeted them, pouring water before leaving the little pitcher on their table. “Can I answer any questions? Get you something to drink?”
“Just water for me,” Maji answered.
Rose absorbed that with barely a flicker of expression, and turned her sparkling eyes to the server. “I’d like a glass of the prosecco, please. And to know how anyone ever decides what to have, when everything sounds so delicious.”
Maji watched the effect Rose’s words and warmth had on the woman, and wondered not for the first time if Rose realized how potent her attractiveness was. Whether their server was married or single, gay or straight, or someplace else in the mosaic didn’t matter. Any challenges on the rest of her busy shift would be cushioned by the Rose Effect.
“You’ll just have to come back,” the server answered, her eyes crinkling. “I’ll have your prosecco right up.”
When she’d headed off to the bar, Rose fixed a questioning look on Maji. “Do you ever drink?”
“Well, I am armed and kind of on high alert now.”
“Yes, I’ve been following recent events. But that doesn’t answer my question.”
Well, there was a secondary Rose effect. Maji wanted to tell her everything—every stupid thing she’d ever done when she was a teenager trying to blunt her anger and insecurities with alcohol. And she wanted to admit nothing, hope Rose would see only the best in her. Rose just waited, patient but not letting her off the hook. “Well, I’m not an alcoholic,” Maji started. “But I don’t trust myself to make good decisions when I drink. Seems like somebody else always gets hurt, and they wouldn’t have if I’d been sober.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t ask a black belt what kind of hurt you mean. It was impressive that you took both those men down today. And without serious injury.” Rose looked both sad and sympathetic. “But surely there are times when you’re really off duty and only interacting with friends.”
Maji gave her a wry look. “Like the night we met? You sent me a beer.”
Rose flushed at the memory, silent except for her thanks as the server placed a flute of sparkling white wine in front of her.
“Have you decided?” the woman asked, directing the question to Rose almost flirtatiously.
Rose ordered the paella to follow their cod tips, and Maji opted for the rockfish caught locally just that morning.
Rose picked up the conversation where Maji had left off. “I’ll have you know, that was the first time I ever sent a stranger a drink. And you hadn’t even rescued me from armed kidnappers yet.”
Maji was glad Rose could joke about it now. Especially right after their run-in by the docks. “Speaking of which, you did tell Hannah how well you did, right?”
Rose flushed just a little. “Yes, and that I owed it to her training. I really never expected to have to use it. But as soon as you said make a circle, I knew where we were going. It’s amazing, really.”
“That you knew what to do, or that it worked?”
Rose laughed. “Both, I guess.” As she sipped her prosecco, she reflected on how right it felt to help Maji and to put her new skills to work. Someday when Maji was out of the Army, if she chose to work for Hannah at Paragon, maybe there would be a role for her too. But she wouldn’t dream of pushing Maji to think that far ahead right now. Instead she asked, “What will happen to those two men?”
“Dunno. Hopefully they’ll stay in somebody else’s jurisdiction. Somebody not on vacation.”
Rose didn’t see the humor in that. “Don’t tease me with hints you can’t explain. It’s not fair.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault. Let’s just…stick to other topics.”
Maji nodded her agreement as the black cod tips arrived. She speared a chunk of fish with her fork, tasted it, and groaned in appreciation.
Alone with Maji but for the increasing number of filled tables, Rose leaned in. “For tonight, nothing matters but you, and me, and being together. Agreed?”
Maji leaned in, matching her. “D’accord. And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.”
“Then you’ll just have to show me later.”
“I’ll do my best.” The look in Rose’s eye made Maji want to skip the delicious dinner about to arrive and show her now. Please God, no calls tonight.
Rose looked endearingly sheepish and took another bite of black cod off the serving plate in the center of the table. She deserved all the one-on-one time Maji could give her. Maji tamped down the urge to apologize for not having done this sooner or being able to say when she’d be available again. As Rose had put it, the things Maji couldn’t control. So she sat dumbly admiring Rose instead of leading her onto the minefield of discussing their future.
After savoring the morsel in silence, Rose asked, “How are your parents? Do you get to see them much?”
Well, that was a safe enough topic. “They’re good. I stay at their place when I’m in the city. Papi keeps long hours at the clinic, but we hang out in the kitchen whenever he’s off.” Maji paused. “And Mom’s traveling less. She wanted me home for Nauruz and I kind of blew that.”
The Persian New Year—the first day of spring, March 21 this year—had fallen near the beginning of Maji’s recent mission. Rose wouldn’t know that, or that it was also Maji’s birthday. Should she tell her?
“Well, she must understand.” Rose paused. “Does she actually cook for the holiday? Preparations seem quite elaborate. I went to a campus celebration one year, and the spread was sumptuous. Do you have any favorites?”
Maji let slide the fact that her parents did not know more about her work than Rose did. That her role was classified and unpredictable they understood. And the question was an obvious softball, designed to let her off the hook in classic Rose style. “Kookoo sabzi, of course. That’s the omelet with all the herbs in it.”
Rose smiled. “Not the sweets? The baklava or the gaz?”
“Mom keeps a tin of store-bought gaz on hand all year,” Maji conceded. The nougat candies, like all versions of baklava, were too sweet for her. “But I was always more excited by the savory stuff—dolmens any day, and fesenjan. And the various kabobs, of course.”
“Of course.” Rose took another chunk of black cod. “Last one’s yours.”
Maji claimed it and moved the appetizer plate to the edge of the table. “Until I was six, I thought the whole festival was for me—the food, the gifts, the haftseen table. Only made sense to me, since it happened every year at my birthday.”
“No—really?” Rose beamed, then looked chagrined. “Bubbles didn’t tell me. I wish I’d known. I could at least have left you a nice voicemail, along with the other, whiny ones.” She looked hopeful. “Come visit, and I’ll make you whichever dishes you want. No—don’t look like that—I’d enjoy it.”
Maji knew she would. “Okay. I will.” Enough focus on her. Even without work to skirt around, talking too much about herself made her squirm. “What about you? Did you associate your birthday with Halloween?”
“Not really. The fifth is far enough away, and Halloween was never that big a deal for me. Mom never got into decorating, and she certainly didn’t have time for making costumes.” Rose smiled at the recollection. “Gerald took me out trick or treating, while Mom scared the kids who came to our house. My friends actually were intimidated by her. I think she gets that from Nonna.”
