"Linda, why aren't you trying to recruit her? You've already met her. Why send me?"
"I can't get away at the moment, and you're the guy with the field hardware in his head. You and Stephanie are the bait to make her switch to 3rd World."
In a flat tone, I said, "Well, hot damn. An assignment."
"Exactly. Try to summon up a bit more enthusiasm, will you? We want you to bring her aboard by any means short of kidnapping her. Put on a show for her."
"That's me. Mr. Hollywood. What kind of doc is she?"
"Medical, mostly, but she has degrees in several fields. Can I say 'tell you later' without causing more questions right now? I have to go, Ed. Right now."
I envisioned her with her beautiful legs crossed under her desk as I said, "Well, sure, ma'am. Any advice about how to get her attention?"
Linda sighed and said, "I can tell you what not to try. She's a lesbian, Ed, so don't try to pick her up, okay? Be cool. Just show her field tricks and get her interest."
"Roger that, Fearless Leader. No sweat. Have no fear. I'll be on my best behavior. I'll try regaling her with 3rd's benefit plans or something."
Linda sighed again and said, "Just watch it, Ed. She's probably heard all the kinds of bullshit there are, so don't try to be cute with her. Scare her off or piss her off and I'll have you mopping floors to keep your checks coming."
"Woo. Gotcha. Loud 'n clear. You guys really want this one, huh?"
"That we do. May I be permitted to sign the hell off and go pee, now, and maybe even put some coffee on?"
"Over. Out. Bye."
"Bye. Hey, call me back in a few minutes. There's more."
"Will do. Bye again, boss."
"Bye, Ed."
Once Linda had disconnected, I used my implant to call Elkor and ask to see some info on Dr. Breen.
"What sort of information would you require, Ed? Without specific authorization..."
"Well, her first name and a picture of her would be nice, and Linda's wanting me to recruit her is real close to being a de facto authorization for at least some info, isn't it? Can't work in the dark, man. Does she have any pets I can slip into a discussion? Dogs, fish, cats?"
A picture of a dishwater blonde appeared on the console. Breen had a rather angular face that seemed to radiate skepticism. She wore her hair in a pageboy cut that barely touched the collar of her jacket. Beside the picture, some of her other details were shown. Height, five-seven. Weight, 151. Age, 44. Corrective lenses required for driving.
"Her first name is Barbara and she has a Siamese cat, Ed."
When no more such info was offered, I asked, "Could you give me maybe a little more than that, Elkor? What kind of car does she drive? What color?"
"She owns a blue 1975 Jeep Cherokee."
"Nothing else? Just that Jeep?"
"She owns no other vehicles, Ed."
"Damn. Must be a reason someone in her income bracket doesn't drive something a little newer." I thought a moment, then asked, "Elkor, can you find out what kind of vehicle her father drove?"
"Yes. According to licensing records, he preferred Ford pickup trucks."
"Uh, huh. Well, did any of her family or others close to her drive a Jeep, Elkor?"
"Yes. Dr. Breen received a speeding ticket in her present Jeep in 1988 while on her way to work at Ft. Meade, Maryland. At that time, the Jeep belonged to a woman named Louise Fowler, who died of a brain tumor in January of 1989. Dr. Breen's Jeep was willed to her by Captain Fowler."
"Captain? Army?"
"Yes, Ed. Dr. Breen was also in the Army at that time."
"Paying back her education by serving military time, I'll bet. What does Breen do nowadays, Elkor?"
"She is employed as a senior forensic pathologist at Hitch, Incorporated's campus medical facilities. Dr. Breen's services are freqently requested by local police."
"What does Hitch, Inc., do that requires a staff of doctors?"
"They provide a wide range of medical services and personnel to government and industry."
"Uh, huh. Okay. Thanks, Elkor. You've been very helpful. I'll yell if I need more."
I mulled things over for a few moments and decided that I wouldn't much like the assignment that Linda had handed me. Breen had obviously suffered greatly with Fowler's death, and that she had kept the Jeep all these years indicated a deep emotional attachment to both the vehicle and the woman who'd given it to her.
The chances seemed excellent that none of what I'd learned from Elkor would be news to Linda; she was one of the most thorough people I'd ever known. She knew what flags and tags I'd look for first and she knew me well enough to know that I'd have some deep reservations about the assignment once I'd delved into Breen a bit.
Steph and I headed outside to board the flitter. I called Linda on the flitter's console as soon as I was aboard and seated. This time she poked the visual icon; her face filled most of my screen as she brought her coffee cup to her lips. I waited until she'd taken a sip, then I asked her why she'd picked me for this one.
"It was Breen who first noticed the ruptured cells in your gunman's hand and identified the damage as the result of freezing. It seemed to me that the circumstances and the investigation had given you a foot in the door, so I decided to let you work the case."
"The case? This isn't a case, Linda. This is just headhunting for 3rd World. I know damned well that you can tap dozens of people better qualified than me to offer Breen a new job, miLady. Again; why me? Once Breen has the answer to her frozen hand puzzle, she'll probably toss me out and move on to the next morgue drawer."
"We think not. One of her degrees is in physics, Ed. According to what was believed and taught on Earth right up until the day the Amarans arrived, fields such as you and Stephie use routinely shouldn't be able to exist. She's been asking questions and trying to find more info concerning fields, so I can almost guarantee that she'll be very interested in you, even if not for your other sterling male qualities. I have to get back to work, now. Any other questions?"
"Yeah, several, but one in particular. Linda, if you couldn't convince her to join 3rd World, what makes you think I'll have any better luck?"
"Just give it a shot, Ed. If you fail, do it gracefully and inoffensively. Leave her door open for further attempts. Anything else?"
"No, I guess not. With my shield or on it, ma'am. Oh, hey! Tell Elkor to let me have any Breen info I ask for. He seemed reluctant."
"As he should. She still has a class Q clearance."
"Nukes? Weapons or power systems?"
"Power systems, as far as I know. Why are you surprised? She's been on the same nuke emergency roster as you for the last three years, Ed. You'd have met her if there'd been a problem with one of the Florida power plants."
"I don't read the rosters, Linda. My name is one of about two hundred or so here in Florida alone. Okay. I'll get whatever else I need from Elkor. Put whatever offers you want me to make to Breen where I can reach them and I'll call you if necessary."
"Done. Is that finally it?"
"You really want to get rid of me this morning, don't you?"
Her expression became somewhat stern. "Like I said, I'm busy. Later, Ed."
"Yeah. Sure. Later."
Chapter Twenty-Four
I stabbed the 'off' icon and sat back.
"Steph, would you like to be a real big part of what I'm doing today?"
"Sure. You don't sound too happy about your assignment, Ed. Do you dislike lesbians for some reason?"
"If I did, would I have spent the weekend sharing Selena with Toni?"
"They aren't lesbians. They're bisexuals."
"Picky. The answer is no, Steph. I don't dislike lesbians. I just don't date them."
"Was that an attempt at wry humor in the face of adversity, Ed?"
I sighed and said, "Well, yeah. I guess it was. Make the flight last about fifteen minutes, Steph. I need some time to soak up some more coffee and plot and scheme. Fact is, Breen could be useful
to us if we handle this right."
"Useful how, Ed?"
"She has six degrees, stature within her academic community, she wields power of a sort, and she's the kind of woman who should be able to understand the problems caused by being different. Once she's come to know us a little, we'll find a way to let slip the news that you're essentially my legal slave. I think she'll probably want to help us -- well, you, anyway -- so it won't hurt to run things past her once."
When Steph began descending in front of a building in the middle of Tallahassee, I had a thought and picked up one of the coins from her stash of treasure. Steph offered to clean it for me, but I shook my head and said that I'd prefer it to remain dirty so that I'd have something to do while I waited for Breen.
"You intend to clean that coin while you wait? Why? For that matter, why would Dr. Breen keep you waiting?"
"Trust me on this, Steph. I'll be damned surprised if she doesn't stall at least five full minutes before meeting with me. Maybe longer. People like to play power games in offices. If she sees me picking at a gold coin with my knife, I'll become instantly unique and interesting without regard to anything having to do with fields."
"May I ask why you'd wish to be more interesting to her beyond the boundaries of your assignment, Ed? Linda did say not to take any chances..."
I interrupted her. "Don't worry, miLady. I won't try to pick her up. I just want an unusual little edge before we start."
"I don't understand, Ed. Nothing in her records indicates an interest in antiquities or treasure hunting."
"Does anything in my records indicate an interest in treasure hunting?"
"No."
"Exactly. I didn't have an interest in treasure hunting, but I still went to see the Atocha stuff and you've made the idea more feasible. Besides, nobody's likely to turn down an opportunity to take a look at a doubloon, are they?"
"I guess we'll learn that shortly. Do you want me to accompany you?"
I put the coin in my pocket and said, "No. I'll ask you to drop in when I need to play a trump card. It might also be a good idea to leave the flitter parked about twenty feet above the street, smack in front of the building's main doors. Leave the canopy in opaque mode to give things an air of high-tech mystery."
When we were less than a yard from the sidewalk, I stepped to the edge of the deck and let everyone out there see me emerge from the apparently solid metal hull of the flitter, then hopped to the ground and walked toward the building's revolving door.
A guard who had obviously seen me leave the flitter -- he seemed unable to stop staring at me -- directed me to the log-in desk, where I showed my ID and asked where I'd find Dr. Breen. The guard gave me a clip-on visitor's badge and told me that her offices were on the third floor as he buzzed me through the oversized turnstile next to the log-in desk.
There were two men and a woman waiting for an elevator. All of them seemed to take note of my green fatigue shirt and jeans as I approached. After I'd been standing near them for a few moments, one of the men glanced down and asked, "Are those golf shoes?"
I glanced at him and nodded. "Yup."
Another few moments passed before the woman asked, "Are you here to pick up something?"
Shaking my head slightly, I said, "Nope. Just visiting. Come to think of it, that may be why they gave me a badge that says 'Visitor'."
They asked no more questions, and when the elevator arrived, we boarded it in silence. One of the men pressed the button for five and I pressed three.
The woman asked, "You're going to the forensics lab?"
"Hope not," I said. "I'm here to see a live person, and I don't want a tour."
One of the men chuckled. The woman asked no more questions. When I got off the elevator, a guard approached me and said he'd been told to direct me to Breen's office. I asked if everyone received that kind of service and he said that all visitors were escorted by either whomever they'd come to visit or one of the guards.
That seemed a bit much for an outfit that provided people and services, so I guessed aloud that Hitch, Inc. supplied drugs and paraphernailia, as well. The guard confirmed that as he opened the door to Breen's office and held it for me. As soon as I was inside, he headed back to his station by the elevators.
A man came out of one of the interior offices and hurried to the desk in the lobby, giving me only a glance in passing. After fussing with some papers and muttering something I didn't catch, he put the papers in a folder and tossed the folder in the outbox on the desk. Looking around the desk as if something might be out of place, he adjusted the position of the telephone what must have been all of a quarter of an inch, then looked up as if noticing me for the first time.
Scanning me rather dubiously from my golf shoes up, he finally asked, "May I help you?"
I said, "I'm here to see Dr. Breen."
He made a droll face and rolled his eyes, then prissily said, "Well, I rather expected that you might be here for that reason, since this is her office. I'm Dr. Breen's secretary. Are you here to pick up something? Who sent you?"
His snooty manner irritated me. I walked up to the desk and commandeered his pink 'while you were out' memo pad, then wrote my name on it and tore off the top sheet. Handing it to him, I said, "Just let Dr. Breen know I'm here."
There was a coffee pot on a stand by the bookcase. I plucked a cup from the rack, filled it, and chose a chair nearby. He was still staring at me when I sat down.
I said, "I'm fairly sure I was speaking English just now. Show that to Dr. Breen."
He said, "It's customary to give some inkling of why you're visiting someone's office." Straightening his suit jacket, he added, "It's also customary to dress appropriately."
I looked at him for a moment, then said, "Breen wanted to see me about something and if she wants you to know anything about it, she can be the one to tell you."
The guy huffed a bit, then leaned over his desk and punched a button on his phone. A woman's voice answered, "Yes?"
"Dr. Breen, there's a man here who says you wanted to see him about something."
He stumbled over my name and I corrected him, then he read it properly. Breen was silent for a moment, then she said, "Oh, yes. See if he'd like some coffee, Joey. Tell him I'll be free in a few minutes."
Joey said, "Yes, ma'am," then he punched off the intercom and looked at me as he started to speak.
"I heard her," I said.
Joey's mouth shut and he glared at me for a moment before he made an effort to look busy at his desk. Some minutes later, I put my coffee down on the small table between the chairs and fished out the gold coin and my folding knife. Joey didn't seem happy to see my knife, but he had curiosity enough to ask what I was doing as I lightly scraped the coin.
"Cleaning the crud off this doubloon," I said. "It's been at the bottom of the ocean for a few hundred years."
Joey was on his feet and heading my way instantly. He stopped within a yard of me and stared at the coin, then asked, "It's real?"
I nodded and handed it to him and said, "Yeah. It's real."
He examined it closely, then flipped it over and spent a few more moments examining it. The timing couldn't have been better. Breen's office door opened and she strode past Joey's desk to approach us. Joey quickly handed the coin back to me and moved to one side as I got to my feet and put my knife back in its belt pouch.
"Good morning," she curtly said to me. Turning slightly to face Joey, she asked, "What was that about?"
"He was showing me a coin, ma'am. He says it's a real gold doubloon."
As he spoke to her, I took a moment to look her over. Five-seven or so, as advertised. A solid figure that didn't give the impression of being overweight, so she probably worked out to stay fit. Dark blue pumps and near-knee skirt with a pastel blue blouse. Collar-length, dark blonde hair and subdued makeup. No jewelry other than a simple gold band on her wedding finger and single-diamond earrings.
She said, "Back to your desk, Joey. You still have som
e of Friday to finish."
"Yes, ma'am."
Joey quick-marched back to his desk. I had the feeling that she'd probably had to order him not to salute her. Breen noticed my examination of her and turned to face me. She didn't ask to see the coin as she focused first on my jeans, then my fatigue shirt, then on my face.
"Mr. Howdershelt," she said, "You aren't quite what I was expecting, but thanks for coming. Bring your coffee and let's go to my office."
Without waiting for my response, she turned and started that direction. As we passed Joey's desk, she said, "Hold my calls." Joey nodded and said, "Yes, ma'am."
In her office, she waved me to a chair by her desk and sat down in the padded leather chair behind the desk, then spent a moment gazing at me as she had before.
Without preamble, she asked, "Ms. Baines told me a little about you when she confirmed that your field, not the flitter's field, froze the gunman's hand. Why did you do that?"
"There was a gun in his hand. He was shooting at me."
"So you were trying to do what, exactly? Clog the gun's mechanism with ice? Freeze his trigger finger?"
I don't like lying to people, but I don't mind terribly if they accept their own conclusions when those conclusions serve my interests.
I said, "He managed to empty his gun at me. Maybe I'd have been better off to freeze his brain."
Her mouth fell open at that suggestion and she gave me a truly odd look, then said, "I don't find it particularly comforting to know that you might be able to do something like that, sir."
3rd World Products, Inc., Book 3 Page 18
