"Indeed I do," McPherson said nodding. "It was equally impossible for me not to create a fuss sufficient to pull you Feds into the case. It is very difficult to get any outside agency to look at a Family Court matter."
"Well you succeeded. Now we basically want you to be gone. I'm tired. I believe I will lean back and rest my eyes. I'd say you have about three hours until the shift change at this cop shop, to get to the airport and outside the jurisdiction of California. Do you need anything that you don't have here?" he asked, pointing at the pile on the desk.
"My client, Ms Anderson."
The man looked startled at the audacity of the request. "I'm sorry. That's not going to happen. This is as good a deal as I can offer you."
"Surely offending the Derf government with Miss Anderson, is as sensitive a matter as arousing His Majesties ire?" he asked.
"Nobody is sweating the Derf. What are they going to do? They don't even have one central authority on their home world."
Stanley thought he was entirely too dismissive of the Derf. He was tempted to point out Earth had no one central authority either, but he saw no profit in arguing the point under the current conditions.
"I take your point. I am however afraid to just fill my pockets and walk out of here on sheer bravado. Not to put too fine a point on it, but if someone shoots me in the back I cease to be a problem too. Will you walk me out of here and see me in a cab?"
The man thought about it a bit. He didn't seem offended by the suggestion he might be setting McPherson up. "If I'm going to do that, I might as well take you to the port myself. It makes more sense than documenting your move in public transportation, or allowing somebody to get lucky and recapture you."
He stood and pulled out a set of cuffs. Stanley thought he meant to put them on him, but he leaned over and placed one end around the arm of the chair. The other end was left dangling like Stanley had escaped. "Follow me," he invited.
McPherson was slightly amazed when the plane lifted and they were not called back to the gate, or ordered to apprehend him. About twenty minutes later they were over international waters and the last persistent tension could be abandoned and he relaxed. He'd taken the first plane headed west and by chance that meant he was about to visit Singapore. He sat back and started composing how he'd present his after action report to his partners.
Chapter 33
Lee wasn't sure what day it was. She might have lost count and when she'd asked a guard the date she wrinkled up her nose and asked what it mattered to her? She'd never seen the facility again where she met Rachel McClure.
The jail she was in now was actually smaller and she didn't have to worry about com privileges because there was no com, or even entertainment video. They had bused her here in a windowless van and the building had no windows. She had no idea if it was desert or forest outside, night or day. The guards worked rotating shifts and she didn't want to assume the prisoner's day was the local day outside.
The other girls were very untrusting. The few that weren't were very vocal and rebellious.
Lee wanted nothing to do with activists. She knew none of the seemingly normal ones by name and got the impression they were all political prisoners of some sort, even the quiet ones. When she'd asked one girl how such young people could be a political problem, the girl had gotten angry and snapped at her: "Don't be stupid. They have relatives. Most of these kids are more hostage than prisoner." She'd apparently regretted saying so much and clammed back up on Lee.
Was she considered a political prisoner? If she wasn't, why would she be here with them?
* * *
Fargone had not been anything Gwen expected. Gordon had been met warmly and given every courtesy. As a person with Earth citizenship, she had been questioned well past what she considered reasonable. It was only after the questioning had revealed she was emigrating to Derfhome and had been living in the Lunar Empire already that they questioned Gordon on com and confirmed her story. Then the fellow interrogating her had asked why she hadn't told them that in the first place. When she replied irritatedly that she had no idea he would care about her residence and ultimate destination, the officer assisting with only one stripe on his sleeve looked at his superior and said: "Politically naïve and unaware."
The lead questioner had nodded, thought about it and asked her, "Who did you vote for last election?"
"Last election down home in North America?" she asked.
"Yes, Vargus or Chen?"
"I didn't vote for anybody," she told him, exasperated. "I'd have had to ask for an absentee form and I doubt it would ever be counted. If you live off planet they don't want your damn vote. If it made any difference voting would be friggin' illegal. If it was counted they're both damn crooks anyway. What do you care which one? Are you really stupid enough to think there is a lick of difference between them? Either one is going to screw the out worlds like you guys at every turn, just like they screw us citizens every chance they get."
The one striper appeared to be holding laughter in. The other shook his head.
"I don't know John. She seems to have a pretty good sense of political reality to me. Welcome to Fargone Miss Hanson," he said through his grin. "I marked your passport with no travel or commercial restrictions, for a hundred day stay."
"Thanks, I think the boss man's business will take us outta here in a week max, but that's nice of you," she said tucking the passport away. She checked her com and found Gordon left her a message.
"I took two bottles of Woodford Reserve and have an appointment. Will meet you at hotel for supper unless something further develops. We load and lift in the morning."
* * *
When they came to transport her again, nobody would say where they were going. Her worst fears were realized when they returned to the courtroom she'd seen before. There was a different bailiff and a thin nervous man sitting with different lawyers over at the other table, Maybe it will be a different judge, she hoped briefly, but when the door opened it was Morse.
"Ms. Johnson, I believe from your report you have found a blood relation for Miss Anderson, who is willing to foster her?"
"Your Honor, This is Mr. Hanson of Ishpeming Michigan. He is cousin to Miss Anderson on her father's side. They are of modest means, but willing to welcome her into their family."
"I'd like to hear it from him directly please, Ms. Johnson."
The man stood nervously and clasped his hands together in front of him fidgeting. "We don't know the California Andersons real well, sir. We sort of lost touch with them when her granddaddy moved out there. But I have always been taught you take care of kin. We are dependent on the negative tax, sir. The Hansons were Great Lakes sailors and loggers and that sort of work kind of dried up. The logging went to Canada and the ships don't need but two or three hands now," he explained looking down.
"If you could send us a letter for the housing authority it would be a mighty big help, Your Honor. They won't give you bigger quarters for more than your second kid, if you just decide you are going to have a mess of them. They tend to be slow on moving you to a bigger unit for fostering and such, unless you have letters from somebody in authority like yourself."
He looked like it pained him to ask, but he continued, "I'm not sure how I'm going to get her back home either, sir. I got me a ticket from the Family Emergency Fund, that is usually for funerals and when somebody gets hurt outside the county. First time I been on a plane and it was quite an experience. But they put off a ticket for her on you folks. Said you are saving having to carry her on your rolls, so it was a good investment for you to send her. Sorry."
"Not at all," Judge Morse assured him, "they have a point there possibly. Ms. Johnson, can you get a flight voucher for Miss Anderson, to return with her cousin? That does seem a small commitment to make on our local system, for being relieved of a long term obligation."
"Yes your honor. I'll have a travel voucher and a letter for Mr. Hanson obligating his county to reciprocate with a dietary
stipend, medical services ID and all the normal allowances given to dependants on negative tax. I'll send copies ahead immediately, so they are aware before he even returns."
"There you go," Judge Morse beamed, all happy. "If no other parties have cause or objection, I shall release Miss Anderson to the wholesome custody and care of her cousin and the aid of Ms Johnson to see them safely on their way and consider this case closed." He looked briefly around the almost empty courtroom and rapped the gravel firmly on the sound block once, before he headed for his chambers for a well deserved nip.
Lee was quietly furious at the superior, offhand way he disposed of her and her life. He had to get one last dig in aimed at Gordon too. She restrained herself from objecting, she didn't think he'd pay any attention to her and she wasn't sure but what being moved out of his control might not be an improvement.
They had removed her cuffs again when she was brought in the courtroom. The guard she was with walked her over to her cousin and Ms. Johnson and got a receipt signed. At least she could walk better now. The swelling was way down. Before she could get away Lee spoke up. "Ms. Johnson I was told this bracelet is my property receipt. I'd like to reclaim my things if we can, before I go very far."
"Is it even worth the stop, dear? If it was just your clothing we can provide for you."
"Ma'am, I had a rather nice necklace, my pocket comp and com, with all my school notes and diary and all my favorite books and videos. My spacer's papers, which are my only identity documents. I don't have a birth certificate or passport. It might get sticky down the road if I can't prove who I am."
Ms. Johnson paused digesting all that and looked at her com. "We have time before we can put you on a flight anyway. Let's see what we can pry out of them. If you have no objection, Mr. Hanson?"
"Only right we get the girl's things," he agreed, with a nod.
The property room window looked like they expected a frontal assault from a heavy weapons squad. There were bars and an airlock style pass-through to the side. The officer who answered the buzzer limped to the window and had a face full of scars. It was obvious he had been given desk duty after some horrific injury. He listened to their request impassively and told Lee to present her bracelet to the window.
Lee put her wrist against the bars and he snipped her bracelet off with cutters, that took a double handed squeeze to bite through. The clerk shuffled away with it.
The envelope he brought back had security tape on one end and he made a show of cutting it off with a sturdy pair of shears. It fit through the bars without using the lock.
"It says on the envelope all your clothing was bloody, so it was all disposed of as a biohazard. Sign on the envelope that you have received the property back in good condition and return it to me," he instructed.
Lee pulled out her com and the slim wallet. She felt in the bottom corners for her necklace with a sinking feeling. She turned and showed Ms. Johnson her fingers poking through the slit in the side of the envelope.
"There was a necklace the girl turned in," she said in an even voice.
"I don't know anything about that," the man informed her. "Put the other stuff back in and I'll hold it while we do an internal investigation," he said indifferently. "You'll have to fill out forms to request the investigation. A receipt or photo of the item would be helpful."
"Let them steal the necklace," Lee offered, clutching the wallet to her chest. "The papers are what are really important to me." Her cousin just gave a snort of disgust and looked at the cop like he was something to be scraped off one's shoe.
"No, I think if they want an investigation we should give them one. Just not internal. Fortunately I have the Prosecutor's office on my call list," she said punching keys on her com with angry vigor.
"Before you bother them why don't I go look around and see if that necklace might have fallen out of the defective envelope?" the cop offered. "It may be in the bin under all the other small envelopes. It wouldn't hurt to look," he suggested.
"Yes, why don't you do that?" she said, terminating her call. "It would save both of us a lot of aggravation."
"Defective envelope my ass," Ms Johnson muttered darkly after he left to check.
The search took perhaps two minutes damaging his credibility further. "Lookie here," the man said, with really well done theatrical surprise. He was holding the two tone necklace between thumb and index finger. "It was behind the bin, jammed back against the wall," he informed them straight faced.
"Thank you," Lee said, attempting the same false conviction he displayed. She took the necklace in her left hand and picked up the pen on the window ledge to sign the envelope.
"No little gal," he told her. "You are a minor. Your guardian here has to be the one to sign," he explained nodding at Ms. Johnson.
"Exactly," Ms. Johnson agreed, signing. "I'm responsible and I haven't stooped to looting my client's jewelry yet," she snarled at the cop. She shoved the envelope back through the bars at him. He turned away seemingly unaffected by the whole exchange. Lee decided now was not the time to argue about her majority. It was working to her benefit at the moment.
"I wouldn't wear that in public," Ms Johnson told her, turning away. "Some street punk will think it is real and mug you for it." It took Lee a couple seconds to process what she meant by that. She quickly wiped the surprised look off her face and shut her mouth. The woman apparently had never heard the whole story of Lee, or her mugging.
Ms. Johnson was not looking, gone into marching mode, anxious to get to the airport and be rid of them. She didn't even pick up on the slight delay before Lee said, "Yes, Ma'am."
Cousin Hanson however read her face and looked alarmed. He too, quickly got control of his expression. He took a deep breath and looked back at her with perfectly neutrality.
Well, that's interesting, she thought. She suddenly suspected Cousin of being much brighter than he sounded talking to the judge. She was embarrassed however how naïve she had been, to make herself a target with flashy jewelry.
Chapter 34
Gwen rode a taxi back to the ship with Gordon. On the ramp they watched as an unmarked massive transport truck slowly backed up with the last 'special' delivery. There were four light armor escort vehicles spread out away from the ship and transport and a number of soldiers on foot visible in a distant perimeter around the port service buildings.
When the lift gate descended the load was anticlimactic. There were three aluminum cases like narrow suitcases anodized a bilious green, but without any markings, strapped on a pallet. They were only a bit over a meter long. There were also four wooden shipping cases with grab handles. Three of those were stenciled: Mortar, 120mm variant 6C, complete and one was stenciled: Practice Round – Purple Smoke - 24 Rds. – Mortar, 120mm 4C - 5C - 6C.
The officer in charge watched as four troopers carried each case up the ramp and then two soldiers at a time cut the small cases off the pallet and carried them into the hold. Nothing was heavy enough to warrant a forklift. He gave Gordon a nod and walked to the near armored vehicle.
"So, are those your nukes?" Gwen asked.
"Yeah, in the ugly aluminum cases."
"Why do you need three mortars for three nukes?" Gwen wondered.
"It's sort of iffy if you can recover the tube after you use it for a nuke," Gordon explained.
Gwen just lifted an eyebrow at him.
"They're dial-a-nukes," he explained reluctantly. "You can set them for anywhere from a half kiloton, to almost fifty kiloton and a radiation enhanced setting – a neutron bomb. You wouldn't think they could be built so small, but these Fargone guys are really inventive. But in quite a range of possible settings the tube will not survive the detonation, or the crew will not be able to remove it. So we need a fresh tube for each weapon to be sure we can use it."
"That sounds pretty rough on the crew servicing it."
"If you can set it for maximum range and delay and if the mortar crew is dug in really well with protective gear and takes
cover it is quite survivable," he assured her. "Tactically whether you can do that is another question. Your enemy often has a way of not staying where you want him to be a convenient target. Ya know? War is rough and no way to fix that."
Gwen just nodded agreement and turned up the ramp. The transport truck was leaving, but the armor seemed to be staying until they actually lifted. I can't blame them, Gwen decided. They want to make sure these little nasties are really taken off world.
* * *
Ms. Johnson handed two air passes and a folder to Cousin Hanson. "These are copies of the letter from Judge Morse and transfers and permissions from my department. You’re a good man to take responsibility, sir."
"Wasn't just me," Cousin said, in his best 'Ah-shucks' manner. "My wife said to go get her and my boy and girl neither one had a bad word to say about it. Thank you for your help." He nodded awkwardly and hurried up the access to the plane. Lee had to step smartly to keep up.
The seats were half way back and Cousin turned to her. "Would you like the window seat or the middle?" he asked her.
"The window if you please. If I sit in the middle I don't know who will sit beside me and I'd rather not have to deal with that right now."
"You'll still be sitting by a stranger," he said ruefully, motioning her in. "I asked to speak with you before we were committed to each other, but they made it clear you had no input. I can only assume you had no objection to being fostered out, as you were not protesting?" He turned it into a question.
"If I had pushed it, they very well might have sent you to some random foster outfit," he said with a grimace. "We wouldn't wish that on anyone. It may be boring in Michigan and we don't have a lot of luxuries, but we are decent people. You won't be forced into prostitution or made to work in some sweatshop and we won't steal your stuff," he promised.
"I figured almost anything was an improvement over having Judge Morse control me. Even though I had no idea foster care could be that bad. You saw him. What was your impression of the judge?"
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