by Quinn, Fiona
“I’m just nervous, I guess.” I pressed a hand to my heart to stop the runaway galloping beat as I opened the door to get out. Striker reached out to stop me. I slid past his hand and walked over to the tree to breathe for a minute, while he paid the cabby.
“Can we talk about this?” Striker asked when he walked over.
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t want to put words in your mouth, Chica. I’m hoping you’ll help me understand what’s stressing you.” His patient voice invited my confidence.
“I don’t know. I just needed a minute, I guess,” I tried, vaguely.
He stood there, waiting.
“I’m fine now.” I hoped I sounded like I had some conviction behind my words.
He still stood there.
“Striker? Are we going in?”
“This is complicated, isn’t it? The more I think the situation through, the more I realize what a complicated thing I’ve asked you to do. I thought I was asking you to come down and have some fun with me New Year’s Eve, and help Cammy out by letting her understand you’re…”
“I’m what?” I slit my eyes.
“I was going to say that you’re just a regular girl.” He laughed and gestured a wide arc with his arm. “But that’s absurd.” We stood there. “Do you want me to take you back to the hotel?”
“No, I told you. I’m fine. Let’s go in.”
Striker watched me, thinking. “This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t introduce you to Cammy and Lynda in public. I shouldn’t even have introduced you to my family and friends, yet. I’ll tell you what, I’ll go get Lynda and Cammy and bring them out here. Why don’t you sit in one those chairs under the tree over there. We’ll ease into this. Play it by ear. And leave the second you want to.”
I nodded and walked over to the live oak, where the low branches cut most of the wind, and sat down in a bright orange Adirondack chair. I set the gift bag with Cammy’s present down beside me and watched Striker move gracefully away on his long legs.
Soon, Striker came around the corner carrying a little girl who had her hands covering her eyes. Dressed like a princess in a pink sparkly dress and party shoes, her hair was a mass of silky black ringlets held out of her face with little ribbon-covered barrettes. She wore an expectant smile.
Behind Striker, a young woman dragged her body forward on a walker. The bandage covering her nose glared white against her purple and green bruises and swollen eyes. The devastation this woman had suffered shocked me.
I stayed seated. Striker walked over and stood in front of me. “Cammy, are you ready for your birthday surprise?” he asked.
Cammy bobbed her head up and down as she smiled widely with expectation.
“Okay, this year as your gift I brought someone to meet you. When I say three you can open your eyes. One, two…” Cammy couldn’t wait; she peeked through her little fingers. When she saw me, the smile disappeared, and her mouth dropped open. Nobody moved. Finally, I spread my arms wide, and she squirmed from Striker onto my lap, where I tucked her in and held her tight. Cammy’s little hands gripped into the fabric of my dress and hugged me closely. Striker helped Lynda get to the chair next to me.
I let Cammy cling and burrow. The healing energy of Reiki flowed from my hands. Cammy snuggled up against me, and I felt long-held stress leave her body. I’d let Cammy set the pace and decide how this should play out. So, there we were. All of us sitting in silence.
“Mommy says you’re not a fairy godmother.” came Cammy’s sweet voice, as she played with my hair.
“Isn’t that too bad? I’d like to be one. I’d wear a pretty crown and have a magical wand with a glittery star on the end. I think it would be fun.”
Cammy smiled and put her hands on either side of my face, patting my cheeks.
“If you could have a magical power, Cammy, what would you choose?”
“I’d be strong as the Hulk, and I’d find bad guys and smash them.”
“How awesome would that be? I don’t have a power as awesome as turning into the Hulk and smashing bad guys, though I do have one magical power. Sometimes someone gets into trouble, and if they are loved, like you and your mommy are, then my magical power tells me you are in trouble and need help. Not a little bit of trouble, like you’ve been caught being naughty, or when someone at preschool is bothering you, it has to be bad trouble. Do you remember when you and your mommy had bad trouble?” I asked Cammy.
She nodded, her velvety black eyes held wide.
“Uncle Gavin needed my help to protect you. And, because things were very bad, I was able to find you. Do you remember that?” I kissed the top of her head.
“We stood by our car, and the man gave me a shot, and Mommy was screaming.”
“That’s right. When I found you. I told Uncle Gavin to send help. I didn’t go in the car to find you. I stayed at my house. With my magical power I can help, but not with my body. It’s just my love I send out. Did you feel me loving you?”
“I sat in your lap in the car. Your hair wasn’t curly like this.” She picked up lock of my windblown hair. “And then I woke up, and the man pulled me out of the car. When I opened my eyes, you got mad, and you yelled at me to go back to sleep. Then I got another shot.”
“Cammy, I was never mad at you. I just didn’t want you to wake up. I knew the man might give you more of the bad medicine. You were a good girl and you did nothing wrong. Not one thing. I tried my best to keep you safe, sweetheart. I’m happy I got to help you,” I said. “But Cammy, I don’t always know when something bad is happening. I don’t get to send my love to help every time. You can’t think I will always be able to do that. Though, I will always try to help you, if I know you need me. It was special that I could help you, with my magical powers, on that night. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Uncle Gavin and I brought you a present, would you like to open it?” I reached for the bag.
A smile lit her face.
Striker and I spent time playing with Cammy, wrapping the silky dress-up fabrics around her, making her turbans and cloaks and togas. Lynda watched us with sad eyes. Some of the other kids came out to play on the jungle gym near us, and Cammy went over to join them.
“Thank you,” Lynda said.
“You’re welcome.” I smoothed my skirt with nervous hands. “I heard from Rebecca last night that you had surgery on your nose, and they were able to fix it?”
“I hope so. The surgeon seems confident.”
Striker sat on the arm of Lynda’s chair; he rubbed his hand up and down her back. “You’re walking better,” he said.
“I like the physical therapist who’s working with me. I think he’s good,” she told him, and then turned back to me. “Would it be okay if I asked you about your experience?”
“Sure.” No, it wasn’t okay.
“What happened? I mean, you gave Cammy a nice little explanation, it satisfied her, and that’s why I asked you to come. But I’d like to understand. Gavin says you’re a psychic and when you held our pictures, you figured out where they took me and what they were doing. Then you told him to send the men, and the ambulances. You saved Cammy’s and my life.”
I cleared my throat. “I, um…Well, the process is called by different names like ‘remote searches’ or ‘remote recovery.’ I trained with a police investigator.” I fidgeted with the folds of my skirt. “Did you tell anyone how you were rescued?”
“No.” She shook her head emphatically. “Absolutely not. Gavin told me you’d want to keep that private. No. I will take your secret to the grave with me, and Cammy will only understand that you and Uncle Gavin loved her enough to go look for her and help her…Gavin says you supported Cammy’s breathing and pumped her heart to save her. The doctors didn’t know how she survived until she got to the hospital. How did you do that?”
I could feel the moisture forming under my arms and on my belly as my anxiety ramped. A dull thud started behind my left eye. “I don’t have a
logical way of sorting out what happens when I’m on the other side of the Veil.”
“My brother said you got badly hurt while you helped me.”
“I’m fine.” I said way to abruptly. My eyes flickered away – in reading body language they called this a “tell” — I was lying. I glanced at Striker; he didn’t seem to notice.
“If you did this remotely - how could you get hurt?”
Flashes of the night and her beating zipped across my memory, fiercely powerful. My anxiety ramped, crushing my ribs together so I had no room to expand my lungs. I pushed a fist into my chest and shook my head. Striker saw.
“Lynda.” Striker softly rubbed her back again. “Lexi went through hell trying to help us. She put herself in a great deal of danger and pain. You aren’t to press her,” he warned.
“No, of course not.” Lynda smiled with her mouth; her gaze remained sad and haunted. “Of course not.”
A group walked toward us. Striker changed the subject to tell Lynda about some of the people he’d seen at the party last night. After a while, the guys finished up at the grill and brought huge platters to the tables.
Cammy made her way back over to us. She curled up in my lap to take a nap, and didn’t wake up until Striker brought us plates filled with aromatic food. Disengaged, I pushed my meal around, un-tasted. I didn’t have much to say. Striker fielded all the questions his family asked.
Someone brought out his guitar and struck up a sing-along. Everyone was convivial - having a great time dancing, teasing and playing. Normally, I would have joined in, but today I wasn’t in the mood. Being physically near Lynda was an ongoing struggle.
Finally, Striker told his family we needed to get our luggage from the hotel and head to the airport. They protested loudly, his dad asked him to stay and get a flight out in the morning. I could tell how much his family loved and respected Striker. That was nice. I was so glad for him that he had these roots. My roots had been yanked up when my parents died. I have no family at all. No — that’s not right. I have my neighbors, and I have my team. I wasn’t completely alone.
Striker didn’t talk in the cab. He held me close. He briefly left me in the car while he ran in to get our bags from the concierge; when he got back in the cab he tucked me right back into his arms. I realized it wasn’t just for my benefit; Striker needed me right now, too.
The wind storm had picked up and caused some problems with loading and unloading, delaying our flight. We sat holding hands, each of us with our own thoughts. We both startled when his phone buzzed.
“Striker,” he said into his cell. He listened for a minute “Yes, sir. I’m heading back into Washington from Miami. I’m at the airport now…Wind delays. I’m not sure what time we’ll set down…Yes, sir…Yes, sir…I’m on it.” He listened for a while and ended with a final, “Understood.”
“You’re on what?” I asked when he slid his cell into his pocket.
“That was Command. I’ll need to head out again, as soon as we get into DC tonight.”
“Is this the assignment you told me about?” Apprehension rose in my throat.
“No, this is something else; I’ll be out of the country for a few days at least. I need to know where you’re going to stay. Your house or mine? I prefer mine.”
“I know you do, and I don’t want to be a distraction, but I need to be at my place because of Mrs. Nelson. Can I try to find someone from the team to babysit me? If no one will come, I’ll do what I have to during the day, and spend my nights at the barracks.”
Striker pulled his phone out again, and speed-dialed Gater. Gater planned to meet us at the airport, and take me home. A watchdog would be with me whenever I went near my neighborhood. Command decided to keep leopard woman under surveillance. They were motivated to find out who she was and how she fit into a high stakes puzzle that they had been working on for almost a decade, but they offered no other information about the history of the case. Striker told me all of this, pushed up to the wall behind a potted tree, whispering in my ear in between kisses.
“Why are you telling me this way? We could walk over someplace private,” I giggled, as he nibbled at my ear.
“Nope, this is more fun. I like playing spy with you.”
Gater, Deep, and Jack waited at the gate for us when we finally touched down. Jack had already packed a fresh suitcase for Striker and handed him his passport and ticket. Jack would be Striker’s swim buddy on this assignment. Gater and Deep took me to baggage claim to get Striker’s and my bags.
“Where are you bunking tonight, ma’am?” Gater asked.
“Where are my girls?”
“Back at my place in the barracks.”
Good, I thought, Leopard woman could wait until tomorrow. I needed a little respite as I transitioned from one high stress, angst filled event to the next.
Seventeen
It felt weird letting myself into Striker’s apartment, with no Striker around, using my own key on my keychain. Deep brought in my bags while Gater collected Beetle and Bella.
“Lynx, I don’t know if you’ve been updated.”
Deep had my full attention.
“Iniquus provided Spyderman with a false identification and moved him to an undisclosed hospital for his protection. His condition is stable, and he’s receiving the care he needs.” Deep set the bags in the hall by the bedrooms. “We’ve set up surveillance equipment on your neighbor. She’s calling herself Consuela Hervas. We put a copy of her file and what background information we’re allowed on your desk. We figured you’d want to read it over.” He stood in front of me, unzipping his coat. “The case starting all this is classified until Spyderman is back at Headquarters. Command won’t release any details to us, or to you.”
“That means it’s about some deep doodoo.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Yup. I think that’s the classification stamped on the file.” Deep grinned at me, rocking back on his heels.
“Were you ever assigned to this case before, Deep? Is there anything you can tell me?” I perched on the stool and leaned an elbow onto the countertop.
“No. Sorry. From what I understand you came into the picture seven, eight-years ago. I was at Parris Island doing boot camp then, not even with Iniquus. Command said you were around thirteen when you started working for Mrs. Agnew.” He examined me with curious eyes. “I’m amazed you remember Hervas from a picture that long ago.”
“Do you know anyone else assigned to the case?” Someone’s darned well got to know something - someone besides freaking off-grid-again Spyder. Maybe I should have insisted on going with him. I snorted to myself, yeah like I had that kind of power.
“Only Spyderman,” Deep said. “I’m assuming whatever this woman wants with you has to be tied in to him. Command says right now, everything’s on a need-to-know basis. However,” he pointed his finger at me for emphasis, “Command also said if any clues present themselves to you, and you are able to puzzle any of this out, they would appreciate your sharing.”
“I don’t like driving on one way streets. Did they offer up a plan?”
“They want you to go about your normal everyday life with watchdog support. Gater’s assigned as top dog. He’s charged with your safety until Striker’s back from his mission. Gater’ll do overnights when you aren’t in the barracks, as you’d already planned.”
“Understood.” I slid off the stool and circled the marble breakfast bar to get a glass of juice. “Do you want some, Deep?” I asked, holding up the jug.
“Yes, thanks. Listen, Lynx, Command doesn’t want you to engage with this woman. Follow Spyderman’s advice to you - act as you normally would, but keep any contact superficial and always in the company of others,” Deep reached for the glass I held out to him. “Apparently Command is surprised Hervas resurfaced. They’re hoping your presence will trigger some sort of information that will help us to understand what’s going on. There’s no way anyone outside of Iniquus knew you and Striker were tapped for this new
assignment with Spyder. But Striker explained to you how the Schumann case tied in to Sylanos, so I’m curious to see where this goes.”
I took a step backward, completely floored. No. As a matter of fact, Striker didn’t explain the Schuman/Sylanos connection to me. How would Schumann from Germany with diamonds from Johannesburg possibly have anything to do with the Sylanos case? Sylanos became a Hydra. Yowza.
“When did you get this intel?” I stammered. “How come I wasn’t informed?” I went from cold disbelief to red-hot fury in five-seconds flat.
Deep held up his hands in front of him protectively. “Hell, the team only found out Spyderman was coming in when he took a dive at the airport. The Schumann thing… Shit. I shouldn’t have said anything. I found out when I was doing computer work for Striker. I assumed you knew.”
“Exactly when did you figure this out?” I asked, burying my unprofessional anger.
“A couple of days ago.” Deep shrugged.
“Just before Spyder went incommunicado at the hospital?”
“Exactly.”
I busied myself in the fridge, waiting for my emotions to calm. I needed to work on my whole stoic-work-face. “Everything else is classified,” Striker had said. Really? Really, Striker? I thought we were teammates on this one. I was going to get to the bottom of this. No matter what.
Deep must have seen a glint of that in my eye when I faced him again because he said, “Command wants me to remind you you’re our Puzzler, Lynx. You’re not a trained combat operative, so please act accordingly.”
“Aye aye, Captain.” I snapped to attention with a stiff-armed salute.
“Okay, funny girl, what’re your plans for tomorrow?” Deep turned his focus to the door, as Gater walked in with my dogs.
“Training in earnest, just in case. I think I’ll take the girls for a run in the morning, hit the gym to lift some weights. I’ll probably go by the range and do quick draw and target practice. Either of you want to go at it on the mats?”
“I will,” said Deep, “but Gater’s got to tag team with me if you’re pulling out your Kung Fu moves.”
