by Robin Craig
It was as if he had suddenly found himself inside a chess game with invisible opponents, their motives as obscure as their numbers. A game he was unaware of until an unseen hand had thumped its piece down before him like a challenge, a moment before another swept it from the board.
He smiled grimly. Now he knew the game was on he could make his own moves. And capturing that incautiously played piece should be his first. He leant back, thinking. She would not talk to him inside Domestic Security’s cells. He would have to get her out – give her at least the illusion of rescue, safety and reaching her goal.
Domestic Security would not want to give her up, but the agent had called her only a suspected terrorist. And they suspected everyone. With a bit of luck they had nothing really on her. They might even have done him a favor by taking her, assuming he could pry her from their grasp. At least he could be sure they would have screened her in every way possible and she wasn’t a walking bomb.
He looked up at the Spider’s image staring at him from the dark and wondered what lay behind its crystal eyes – some hacker playing puppeteer, or an alien mind? He shivered, knowing it was the first but not knowing whether to fear or hope it was the second. Then he waved his hand to banish the image into the darkness. A moment later the lights came on, bringing with them a measure of cozy normality that failed to banish the shiver in his nerves. The shiver hardened into the resolve of action.
Well, Lyssa, he thought. You said you wanted to see me. Let’s see if we can grant your wish.
Chapter 34 – Knight Takes Pawn
Lyssa had not had a good night. The bright light had never gone out, the room had never warmed, and there was no soft surface anywhere. Whenever sheer fatigue had driven her to sleep, someone had always turned up to ask if she needed anything. She had begun dreading to answer them. They always gave her what she requested, but in a literal sense that left her worse off than she was before.
When she had asked for a blanket they had provided a thin piece of material barely worthy of the name; then the room had become even chillier so she ended up colder than before. When she begged for food, they had brought her something on the wrong side of edibility in a quantity that just made her more hungry. She knew she could not have been here long, but no longer knew if it was day or night.
Once they must have let her sleep, for she awoke in fright. She had dreamed of Charlie coming to rescue her like a knight of old, mounted on Kali. But then a missile had streaked down from the sky and both had vanished in its fatal fireball.
She sat up, shivering and crying. She knew they were softening her up, hoping she would bend or break. But she could stand it. She had to stand it. Though at the back of her mind lurked the fear that if she did, they would resort to torture. Not this baby stuff, but real, physical torture. She held to the hope that this was a civilized country, that they would not go that far. But then she remembered the Spiders and that this was the country that had spawned them. Perhaps some knight on his charger will come to rescue me, she thought, before I break or die. But she knew there were no knights. They belonged to dreams and a past age.
~~~
Unknown to Lyssa, at that moment a knight had ridden to her rescue and was on the field of battle on her behalf. His lance was words, his charger was the law and in place of rippling muscles he had a comfortable paunch. He was closeted with Joe before a judge, arguing for Lyssa’s release.
Cam Mansfield had been Alexander Beldan’s attorney for many years. He had advised Beldan on how to obey the law and, if the law was defective, how to bend it or slip between its clauses. It was not that he was immoral or even amoral, but quite the reverse: he believed with the certainty of a moral man that sometimes morality had to trump law. He had helped Beldan in his fight to save Steel, a fight he had lost. He knew that nobody could win all their battles, and that after a loss happiness, or perhaps sanity, was best served by picking oneself up and moving on to the next fight. But his failure to save Steel hurt more than usual, and he could not forgive or forget it. That had been his last major battle for Beldan and he was determined not to fail in this one.
The judge in this case was better than he could have been, worse than he might have been. He had a record of severity when it came to terrorism but also a record of strong respect for human rights. Overall, Cam respected him. He felt that the judge’s hatred of terrorism stemmed entirely from his honor of rights. But he knew it was a difficult tightrope to walk between those two opposing aims, especially when the law itself was so confused at their intersection. He knew the outcome depended as much on his arguments as on whether the judge’s lunch break had left him with indigestion or involved sex with his secretary.
The judge was quick of wits and bright of eye, but did not say much. He evidently enjoyed watching the thrust and parry of opponents debating their case before him. It was wise for the combatants to watch not only each other but to keep an eye on him, for most of his feedback consisted of thoughtful looks if he thought a good point had been made, a pointed glance and sharp smile if he thought someone was trying to pull a swift trick, or even a roll of the eyes if they crossed the line of rational argument. He asked sharp questions and made sharper comments when required. But mostly he watched and weighed.
“So,” Cam said, “you have nothing to hold my client on. There is no evidence she is anything other than what she says.”
“‘Your client’?” Joe quoted. “And why, not to mention how, did an innocent, supposedly penniless foreign tourist find it necessary or possible to have retained a high-priced attorney such as yourself?”
“Are you implying that hiring a lawyer is evidence of guilt!?”
“No… no, I wouldn’t say that,” he replied with an anxious glance at the judge’s suddenly beady eyes. “But it is strange, don’t you think, that you have brought your request to the court before Miss Morales could even ask you to? Does that not imply a level of contingency planning – by someone – inconsistent with her cover as a lone innocent abroad?”
Cam sighed. Those drama lessons have to be good for something. “I don’t have to justify why my clients seek my assistance. But as a gesture of goodwill, which I hope you will reciprocate, I will tell you that Miss Morales did not hire me directly. I have been retained by her sponsor, Dr Alexander Beldan.”
Joe raised his eyebrows. “Dr Beldan? The same Dr Beldan who was present at her arrest, who said he did not know her? I find that even more curious.”
“I believe Dr Beldan told the arresting officers – if arresting is the right word for gunning down a frightened, unarmed girl – that she might have tried to see him earlier. As it turns out, after discussions with his secretary, who was with Miss Morales for some hours, Dr Beldan believes she is a valuable resource for certain of his own research programs. Research programs important not only for his company but for national security. He also believes strongly that she has been falsely arrested, though he is amenable to accepting that it is all a misunderstanding. As long as she is released shortly.”
“Dr Beldan is entitled to his opinion. But we have reason to believe your client is a terrorist, and is in our country to cause mischief.”
“Oh? As far as I can see from the evidence you have presented, the only reason you have any interest in Miss Morales is a photo of her doing nothing in particular except looking scared, provided by an unnamed source. For all we know that source is the only terrorist involved.”
“I am afraid that we cannot reveal the names of our sources, but this one is regarded as trustworthy.”
“And did this source say anything specific about why Miss Morales should be suspected? Any hints of terrorism? Anything at all other than ‘here’s a photo of a girl who refused my advances’?”
“No, but that is often the case. Sources don’t know everything.”
“So, nothing. But now you’ve had your opportunity to interrogate my client as well. I see nothing in the transcript that would indicate guilt. Nothing but the words of an in
nocent girl caught in a frightening situation she has no hope of understanding. While being monitored by your own lie detector!”
“It isn’t that simple. She did not lie, as such, but she is obviously hiding something. We can be quite sure that she is not here as a mere tourist, but for some larger purpose.”
“People can have many secrets and ambitions, sir. I don’t think you can reasonably interpret anything she has said, or any of the readings of your machine, as anything beyond the words and thoughts of a scared but innocent person. She did, after all, directly and truthfully deny both that she is a terrorist and that she wished to harm anybody, did she not?”
“Yet she is hiding something!”
“Maybe she’s hiding from the stalker who gave you her photo! By my reading of the law, your remit concerns terrorists, not ferreting out every personal, business or embarrassing secret of anyone who falls into your clutches on the basis of innocent photos from unnamed sources! And your own results show she is not a terrorist!”
“Your Honor,” Cam said, addressing the judge directly, “I request that you order my client’s release on the grounds that she has been questioned and found innocent by the very people who want to keep her imprisoned.”
“And what do you say to that, sir?” the judge asked Joe.
“I think it would be very dangerous. She is here for some purpose and we still don’t know what it is.”
The judge sat watching them both, tapping his fingers on the polished wood of his desk.
“Your Honor, I have a suggestion,” Cam offered. “My colleague here isn’t being quite – accurate. We might not know everything about my client’s motives, but we do know one important one: she wished to see Dr Beldan. So much so that even after she was shot, with her last strength she tried to reach him. Yet no weapons were found, either on her person or among her effects. Therefore her intent was not hostile.”
He paused and looked at the judge. “Go on,” the judge prompted. “Where are you leading?”
“Dr Beldan has authorized me to offer a solution. If this woman wants to see him – let her. Dr Beldan’s work means he has a top security clearance: and I don’t think anyone questions either his intelligence or his patriotism.” He lobbed Joe a challenging glance, but he could only nod. “That being so, Dr Beldan has asked that Miss Morales be released into his custody. Given the efforts she has already made to reach him, she will undoubtedly and willingly reveal what she is here for, and if there is anything illegal about it Dr Beldan will surely report it to the proper authorities.”
“And if she now decides she no longer wants to run into Beldan’s arms?” asked Joe.
“Then we will escort her to the airport and put her on the first flight home. So you won’t have her, but you’ll be rid of her. And if she tries to return to our country – well, that’s her choice and what happens to her then is her problem.”
“And if she gives Beldan the slip, with or without killing him first?”
“Dr Beldan is able to look after himself, and is willing to take the risk that a young woman might strangle him. And if she does, no doubt she won’t be so lucky the next time you catch her.”
“All right,” the judge said. “I think I’ve heard enough. Unless either of you have something to add?” He paused, but neither replied. “In that case gentlemen, I will think about what you’ve said and let you know within the hour. Good day.”
~~~
Lyssa had just fallen asleep again when the door opened with a rude clang. She lifted her head wearily.
Joe came in, glowering at her with an expression he must have been holding in reserve. “Hello Joe,” she said.
“You don’t fool me, you know,” he snapped. “I know you’re hiding something, and I know it’s nothing good.”
“Look. Joe. I know you’re just doing your job. And I sympathize, believe me. I don’t like people who kill innocent people any more than you do. But I’m not one of them. That’s not why I’m here. I’m on the same side you are.”
“Well, unfortunately – your friend Beldan believes you. More to the point, a judge believes you. Or at least, doesn’t believe we have enough evidence to hold you. You’re free to go.”
Lyssa blinked at him, wondering if this was a trick. “I’m free to go?” she asked in a small voice. She knew it was a trick. But she couldn’t help the hope that betrayed itself in her voice.
“Yes,” he said, somehow managing to say it in the voice of doom. “But you take one wrong step, and I’ll be there. You do anything – I’ll hunt you down.”
Joe half expected a look of triumph, of having put something over on her enemies. But Lyssa simply blinked at him. “I understand, Joe. But I won’t.”
Joe just looked at her. She’s either a good actress or she really is innocent, he thought. I hope to God it’s the latter.
An older man, a stranger, walked in escorted by Mateo. “Hello Lyssa,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Cam Mansfield, Dr Beldan’s attorney. I’m here to take you out of here.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Now,” Cam said to Joe, “can we finish this unpleasantness?”
Joe nodded dumbly, releasing her bonds and, to Lyssa’s surprise, helping her to her feet. “Don’t think I believe you for a second,” he growled, “but take that as my apology – if you really are innocent.”
Lyssa bowed her head in acknowledgement, then Cam hustled her from the cell.
He held her elbow, steering her with him as they left. “Are you all right, Lyssa?” he asked. “You’ve been treated well? If they’ve done anything they shouldn’t have, we can sue on your behalf, you know.”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘well’. But merely unpleasant, not terrible. I… I don’t want to sue. I just want to go home.”
“Ah. There might be some delay there. Dr Beldan wishes to extend his hospitality to you. However you will find his interrogations rather more pleasant than the ones you have been subjected to here, I imagine. And,” he added, “there is no compulsion. If you want to, you can go home. But the terms of your release are strict: I can hand you over to Dr Beldan, I can leave you here, or I can take you straight to the airport and see you on a flight home. Dr Beldan would really like to talk to you about your, er, research. But it is your choice.”
Lyssa’s heart leapt at the chance that in hours she could be home, back with Charlie. But if not for Beldan, she would still be in this prison, perhaps never to see Charlie again. And looming over them was the reason for it all. She turned to him and replied gravely, “Much as I would like to go home, I have to finish what I started. And if I just went home, I think I would be betraying that home. I would be delighted if you would hand me over, as you put it.”
Cam smiled at her. “One day I should like to hear your story. Your full story. But for now, we have a few formalities to go through with your erstwhile hosts.”
~~~
Cam escorted her out of her former prison, let her into a silver sports car and whisked her away into the traffic. He pressed a button and the top slid away; she just lay back, eyes closed, feeling the wind blow her hair. It felt as if the memories of the past days and nights were being blown to the ends of her hair and evaporating into the void. A knot of tension remained at her core that would not go away until her mission was truly complete, but she allowed the rest to ebb away.
Cam occasionally glanced at her and smiled. He would have loved to hear about her adventures but he was a very patient man. The first telling properly belonged to Beldan. Cam would savor his own ignorance, knowing it would heighten his enjoyment of the tale when it was finally told.
When he swept to a stop in the private underground car park, Lyssa saw a well-dressed man leaning casually against a sleek-looking vehicle, and she recognized Alexander Beldan. This time she got a better look at him, and she liked what she saw. It was not that he was handsome in the heart-throb actor mold, but that the first thing she saw was an arresting intelligence and drive. On a l
esser man his features would have been merely pleasant, but the spirit within sharpened his face into a totality that was attractive in a primal sense beyond the physical. The attractiveness of a man who not only saw the world as it was but could bend it to his will, transforming it into something better. Her knot of tension loosened some more. Perhaps Kali knew what she was doing after all, if this is the man she entrusted me to.
She felt her face changing of its own accord into a welcoming smile. He answered it, or at least began to, but his smile never reached its promise. It stopped, held in abeyance by a distantly guarded look in his eyes. But his words were warm enough.
“Hello, Miss Morales,” he said, extending his hand. “Are you well?”
“Hello, Dr Beldan. Thank you for getting me out. God knows what they’d have done with me if you hadn’t.”
He nodded, “My pleasure, Miss Morales.” The door to his car swung upwards and he gestured, “Please, be my guest.” He turned to Cam. “Thanks, Cam. I’ll take it from here. Miss Morales and I have a lot to discuss.”
“It is my pleasure to serve, Alex, especially in a case like this. Goodbye, Miss Morales: perhaps I will see you soon. If not, welcome to the United States” – he smiled ironically – “and good luck.” With that, he bowed, sat back in his own car and took off with a faint screech of rubber.
Lyssa waved and sank into the luxurious leather. The door swung down and Beldan sat in the driver’s seat. “This car is full auto,” he explained, “but sometimes I just like to drive. Besides, some of those times I like to drive fast,” he smiled.
With that, he drove out, swung into the road and accelerated away.
He glanced sideways at her. She saw, and opened her mouth to speak, but he held a finger up to his lips. “Miss Morales, we have a lot to talk about. But not now: my curiosity can learn some manners and wait for a while. You must be tired, so feel free to sleep. It’s about a half hour drive to my home. You’ll be my guest. I’ll wake you when we arrive.”
