Hostiles

by Ethan Johnson

  Diane frowned at this. “What people? Sergeant Parcells was putting you away for fricking years.”

  “Sergeant Parcells changed his mind when Ben Franklin and nineteen of his closest friends showed up and told him to let me off with a warning.”

  Diane turned sharply to Hathaway. “Are you getting this?”

  Hathaway tapped a dark circle at the center of his flak vest. “Every word. Hot damn, Pembrook, the ACTF is going to have a field day with this guy.” Caprese gulped as Diane stuffed him in the back of the cruiser.

  Diane slammed the door on Caprese and winked at Hathaway. “I told you, I’ve got your back.”

  Hathaway patted her shoulder. “Right on, partner. Let’s put this scumbag away.”

  After their shift was over, Diane unbuttoned her uniform shirt as she stood beside her locker and tossed it into a hamper. She turned to Hathaway and smiled. “So much for Arbor Day.”

  Hathaway snorted. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “I’m just messing with you. How much has Caprese told them about Parcells, do you think? Maybe he’ll get the electric chair.”

  “The electric chair?” Hathaway looked at her incredulously. “What is this, the Dark Ages? Jesus, Pembrook.”

  “What? I’m just saying that dude is in deep crap. Your ACTF buddies are probably torturing him right now. Probably electric shocks. They love that stuff.”

  “No, they don’t, Pembrook. I don’t appreciate you insinuating the ACTF conducts itself in any way but to the highest standards of the law. Every case we’ve investigated was iron-flippin’-clad. We don’t need to pull fingernails or whatever sicko nonsense you’re imagining.” His eyes flashed with fury. Diane was taken aback by his outburst, then found herself turned on. Lyssa was never this passionate about anything, she thought.

  Diane raised her hands defensively. “I’m sorry. I just thought…” She reconsidered revealing the things the Masked Man had done to her. “I was wrong.”

  Hathaway nodded. “Apology accepted, Pembrook. I’m sure you were just messing around, but I take the ACTF very seriously. They came along at a time when my life wasn’t going so great, and gave me purpose, you know? I don’t like hearing people talk crap about them.”

  “No harm no foul,” Diane said. “It is what it is.”

  The two changed out of their uniform clothes in silence. Diane applied her makeup awkwardly with the small mirror on the inside of her locker door. She snapped her makeup case closed and smoothed out her dress. It really needed to be taken somewhere and made nice again, she thought, but there wasn’t time. Lady Diamond would probably be sending a car soon. She glanced at her comm unit, which bore no secret instructions.

  Hathaway raised an eyebrow. “Hot date?”

  “No, why?”

  “So, you dress like you’re going to Fashion Week because it’s what, Wednesday?”

  Diane gave him a coquettish smile. “You like it?”

  Hathaway ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I, uh… we’re partners, Pembrook. Let’s leave it there.”

  Diane bit her lip. “You don’t like it?”

  “I’ve got an ACTF meeting to get to. The new number two is flying in from Charlotte and word is he’s got something major to drop on us. Plus, this Caprese thing, Pembrook… the timing couldn’t be better.” Diane noticed Hathaway spent a long time putting on his shirt. He held it in a wad between his legs as he spoke and seemed to be avoiding eye contact with her.

  Use him, Lady Diamond’s voice said in Diane’s head. Diane shook her head and tried to ignore it. “Un-fricking-believable,” she said. After an awkward pause, she added, “I mean, yeah, good thing I saw Caprese dealing thignoids. I still can’t believe he got out so fast. He was caught red-handed in a fricking Green Zone.”

  Hathaway gave her a quizzical look. “A what, now?”

  “I busted him dealing thignoids near a school. The school zone map shows a big green circle where anyone caught dealing drugs gets put away for a good long time.”

  Hathaway nodded. “Oh. Probably a good idea to just say ‘school zone’, then.” He finished getting dressed and slammed his locker door shut with a bang. He started to walk away, then paused. “Hey, uh, a few of us are going out tomorrow night after work. You should come along.”

  Diane lowered her eyeliner brush and frowned. “Sorry, I’ve got a thing.”

  Hathaway grimaced and tried to mask his disappointment a moment too late. Use him, Lady Diamond’s voice urged once more. He wants you. What can you take from him and bring to me? Diane leaned toward her mirror and touched up her eyeliner in hopes of cutting off any more conversation.

  Hathaway shrugged. “Well, maybe you can get out of it. I’d… we’d love to see you there.”

  “Maybe, but I doubt it. Personal stuff.” Diane blinked her eyes a few times and checked her technique. She didn’t want to hurt her partner, just keep him out of her private business. Lady Diamond got the better of her and inspired her to add, “But you never know. I’ll see what I can do. No promises.”

  Hathaway brightened up. “Gotcha. Yeah, no, personal stuff takes priority. But if you can swing it, maybe I’ll see you there.”

  Diane put her free hand on her hip. “You didn’t say where ‘there’ is.”

  “Oh. Right. We’re going to check out the lounge at the Tracy’s Mark at the Cranston Towers. It’s time to see how the other half lives.”

  “Other half? Who?”

  “The brass. They’ve been put up at Cranston. The rest of us grunts are at Crestwood Arms, which is like caviar versus potato chips. Not that there’s anything wrong with potato chips or anything. But Crestwood is a far cry from Cranston.”

  Diane tried to conceal her astonishment. She had been told that all officers were provided rent-free units at Cranston unless they had other living arrangements. She realized she had never seen any rank-and-file officers at Cranston, but she blamed her odd work schedule, not whoever made these arrangements at the Panther Division. Which rekindled her concern Sapphire was paying for her housing. There weren’t as many sergeants or higher in the division. She felt a surge of disgust at the thought of Sapphire giving her anything. Hathaway seemed to read her distress and stepped forward.

  “I take it this is new information. Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin Crestwood for you. I assumed you knew.”

  Diane smiled and patted his shoulder. “No, I’m fine. I’ve got to run. Stay safe, okay?” She snapped her makeup case shut once more and slammed her locker door closed. She stumbled on her heels but recovered quickly. She glanced at her comm unit. A simple message read MAIN ENTRANCE.

  Diane tried to make her way to the lobby quickly, but found it exceptionally challenging in five-inch heels. She used the mirrored walls of the elevator to take one last look at her ensemble before stepping out of the main entrance and into… something. She expected a sleek black SUV to whisk her away to the Masked Man. She felt tingly with the hope of being collected by a sedan and off to another night with Lady Diamond. The SUV screeched to a stop and Diane huffed.

  “Coming, Master,” she muttered.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  To Diane’s surprise, she was not brought to one of the Masked Man’s secret facilities. Instead, the SUV pulled up to a high-rise luxury condominium tower. Diane glanced at her comm unit. The screen flashed FRONT DESK. She rolled her eyes and wished she didn’t have to run an obstacle course to get anything done, especially tonight, in painful heels.

  Diane made her way to the front desk as instructed. A woman wearing a dark blazer over a white blouse looked up from a terminal and smiled. “Welcome to Kingston Pointe,” she said. “How may I assist you?”

  Diane peeked at her comm unit and repeated the message verbatim: “Package pickup?”

  “Absolutely. I can definitely assist you with that. Name, please?”

  “Pem—” Diane cut herself off as she furtively peeked at the comm screen. “I mean, Walker Agency.”

&
nbsp; “Of course,” the woman said, tapping away at her terminal. Diane preferred Kernan but appreciated the woman’s helpful tone. “One moment, please.” The woman excused herself and disappeared through a richly stained wood door with brass hardware. She returned a few minutes later with a plain brown envelope. “Will that be all?”

  Diane read from her comm unit. “Yes.” She smiled and threw in, “Thank you, Amber.”

  “My pleasure. Enjoy your evening.”

  Diane stepped away from the front desk and looked at her comm unit. It read simply, ENVELOPE. She opened the envelope and removed a key card. She puzzled over what to do with it. Her comm unit buzzed in her hand. The screen provided the answer: ELEVATOR.

  Diane huffed and walked to the elevator. A security guard intercepted her before she could press the button. He looked at the key card, then at her. “Allow me, miss.” He pressed the call button for the elevator and gave her a slight bow.

  “My, a gentleman after my own heart,” Diane said with Alexa’s twang. She felt it was only good manners to say something nice to the man, in contrast to the terse instructions her comm unit provided.

  A chime sounded over an ornate pair of elevator doors and Diane stepped into the empty cabin. The doors closed and she realized she had no idea where to go next. The comm unit provided the answer in the nick of time: 24. Diane pressed the button and checked her hair with her reflection off the polished but not mirrored elevator walls.

  2425 was Diane’s next directive after reaching the 24th floor. She followed the directional signs until finally locating 2425. She tapped the key card against a plain access panel and the door clicked as it unlocked electronically. Diane pushed the door open and let it close behind her. She flicked on the lights to reveal a bare room outfitted with a single table in the center. Her rifle laid across the table beside a headset. Diane put on the headset and flicked on the power switch. “Hello?”

  The Masked Man’s soft voice filled her ear. “Greetings, Miss Pembrook. Due to unforeseen circumstances, a full mission briefing could not be arranged before assignment. Time and accuracy are of the essence. You have everything you require to succeed.”

  Diane picked up her rifle and slid the bolt back. A single cartridge was loaded in the rifle. No backup ammunition was provided. “What about my armor?”

  “It is not necessary on this occasion. You will strike the target with one projectile, then depart. Direct engagement is neither anticipated nor authorized.”

  Diane snapped the bolt shut and raised the rifle. She checked the scope, then lowered the rifle. “Understood.”

  “Balcony,” he replied. Diane stepped out onto the balcony as instructed. A chill wind ruffled her dress as she stepped outside. She swore under her breath. “Third building. Sixth floor.” Diane raised her rifle and used the scope to sweep across the distant scenery as instructed. “Straight down. Street level.” Diane did as she was told, and her crosshairs targeted a valet wearing a red jacket and blue trousers. “Target en route. Prepare to fire.”

  Diane nodded slightly and pulled the rifle to the left. As she did so, a black sedan pulled up to the valet stand. The valet hurried to the rear passenger door and pulled it open. A man wearing a blue suit with neatly styled brown hair exited the vehicle. Diane put her crosshairs just above his head.

  “Terminate,” the Masked Man ordered. Diane pulled her trigger and sent the man to the pavement in a halo of blood and brains. The valet cried out and looked around for the shooter. “Lower the rifle. Move slowly. Do not attract attention. Pause. Now exit the balcony.” Diane followed his instructions to the letter. She slid the balcony door shut and pulled the curtains closed next as ordered.

  “Place the rifle on the table. Leave the key card as well. Leave the lights on when you exit the room. Mission complete. Proceed to extraction vehicle. Switch off your headset and leave it on the table.” Diane quickly removed her headset and switched it off. She dropped it on the table beside her rifle. The key card and envelope were already there. She checked down her mental list of instructions and left the room. The door clicked shut behind her with an air of finality.

  Diane left the lobby of the Kingston Pointe Tower and proceeded toward the SUV. To her surprise, it was gone, and had been replaced by a gleaming red sedan. The rear passenger door opened automatically as she drew near. She sat down in the plush interior and the door closed behind her with a soft click.

  Diane glanced at her comm unit. The screen flashed DETOUR.

  The sedan glided through the city and brought her to an unfamiliar locale. She expected to be driven home, but instead found herself being welcomed to a building that didn’t give any clue as to what laid within its black brick and smoked glass exterior. A glowing circle with a diagonal line through it was its only signage.

  Once inside the building, Diane found her way to a black hostess stand. A long-haired blonde woman wearing a sleek black mini-dress and glossy black heels beamed at her with bright white teeth. “Just you tonight, miss?”

  “I guess so,” Diane said, unsure of what else to say. She remembered her lessons from Lady Diamond and corrected herself. She stiffened her posture and said confidently, “Yes, party of one.”

  “Right this way,” the hostess said. Diane studied her gait and tried to copy it. The woman’s heels seemed slightly higher than her own. Diane noted her method of putting one foot quickly in front of the other and mimicked it. To her surprise and relief, she didn’t fall flat on her face. She was led to a glowing bar and handed a drink menu. “Raul will be with you shortly,” the hostess said, and clip-clopped away.

  Diane lighted on a padded bar stool and looked around. The place didn’t seem to serve food, only alcohol. She glanced over the drink menu and nearly fell off her bar stool. The first item that caught her eye was the Captain’s Martini, which cost $50. Another concoction called the Midnight Creep was $73. She consulted her comm unit and winced at the answer: HOMEWORK.

  That evil bitch, Diane thought darkly. Then again, it worked, didn’t it? She was certain she wouldn’t have come here on her own if she knew the reason. She didn’t feel ready for this, but here she was, and she wasn’t going to back down from a challenge.

  The bartender stepped over to her, his slick black hair gleaming under a spotlight. “Welcome to Bar None, miss. What can I get you?”

  A well-dressed man stepped forward and gave Diane a toothy smile. “Why don’t you let me take care of this, Miss…”

  Diane couldn’t hide her surprise and shock. There before her stood the richest man in Cape May, whom she hated more than her own father. “Brent Moorcroft,” she gasped.

  Diane had enjoyed her time with Alexa Charlevoix, despite her disappointment with not actually dining together. Deep down, she knew the woman under the blonde wig and expensive gown was an actress named Janet McBride, but her commitment to Alexa was so thorough that Diane could only process the experience as “I met Alexa Charlevoix.” She would treasure the time they spent together for the rest of her life, she thought warmly after her lesson.

  Now Brent Moorcroft had apparently been hired to serve as a man for her to use, per Lady Diamond’s instructions. Diane hated that it was him, but on the other hand, she mused, she wouldn’t feel one ounce of pity for breaking his heart, if he had one. “Brent Moorcroft,” she said icily. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, after what you pulled.”

  The man winked at the bartender and gave him a dismissive flick of his fingers. “Oh, why, begging your pardon, little lady, but I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Steve—”

  Diane raised her finger. “I know who you are. If you think stealing PDX away from Alexa impresses me, you’ve got another thing coming.”

  Brent Moorcroft’s shoulders sagged a little, then he smiled and found his swagger. He tipped his head to the side and gave her an easy grin. “Oh, well, I think Alexa’s a smart woman. A powerful woman, even. Anybody would be lucky to win her heart, if she has one,” he said. Diane glowered at him, and he cont
inued. “But you’ve got me all wrong. Seems to me, she approached me about entering into a partnership to stave off a hostile takeover from Ruby Ryerson. I didn’t take anything that wasn’t offered.”

  “Like in Italy?”

  “Ouch. Well, same deal. She called me. I never came on to her. If you have a problem with that, take it up with Alexa.”

  “Oh,” Diane said, biting her lip uncertainly. This was new territory. It was one thing to shout at the tablet over Lyssa’s shoulder when something shocking happened on Fortune and Destiny. It was quite another to have Brent Moorcroft standing beside her, explaining his side of the story. It was strange to see him in real life, to see him respond to things she was saying. She gestured to the next bar stool. “Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to judge.”

  Brent sat down and rested his elbow on the bar. “Alexa has a devoted following. I’m pretty used to it. Well, was. People don’t speak to me in character very often. I kind of miss it.” He looked Diane up and down. “I take it you’re a big fan of the show. Too bad we got canceled. Fortunately, I’ve got other irons in the fire. I’m not reliant on Brent Moorcroft to pay the bills, you know what I mean?”

  Diane stared at him blankly. How could he lie to her face like that? Lady Diamond had hired him to be here and stay in character. She would not be happy to hear otherwise. Diane scowled at Brent. “I’m quite certain I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said airily, affecting Alexa’s twang. “But you can buy me a drink, if you like.”

  Brent seemed to consider his options, then shrugged. “You’re not going to bring the crazy, are you? Boiling racoons or something?”

  Diane was taken aback. “I beg your pardon?” This was straight from Alexa’s mouth to his ears, again.

  “Sure, what the hell. Barkeep, something special for the lady.” Raul hurried over to his summons. “How about a Captain’s, huh? You seem like the no-nonsense type.”

  Diane shook her head. “I’ll have the Straight Shooter.” It was $105. She figured Lady Diamond would approve. Plus, as rewards went, it seemed appropriate after putting down her target earlier that evening in her painful heels.