by Matt Lincoln
“It’s a good thing none of us brought a lot of luggage,” I remarked as I looked up at the skyscrapers all around us. Even late at night, the signs and electronic billboards were all lit up and casting a glow so bright that I could see everything around us clear as day.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take that?” Fiona asked. She’d brought the heaviest suitcase since she needed to bring all of her computer gear with her.
“No, it’s okay. It’s not that heavy,” I assured her.
I was relieved when we finally made it to our hotel and up to our rooms. For safety, we decided to get two adjoining rooms that could each be accessed by a shared door. Fiona didn’t have a lot of field experience, and we couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t try to attack her here if they found out she had come to Japan with us. After making sure that she was secure in her room, Charlie and I headed back to ours to get some sleep.
16
Naomi
If someone had asked me what I had expected when I joined MBLIS, I wouldn’t have been able to give a concrete answer. It had been something of a whim if I were to be perfectly honest. I knew that I wanted to be a federal agent, but there wasn’t any particular purpose or goal that I had in mind. I only knew that I was tired of being a pawn in a bureaucratic game of politics where all we did was say pretty words. I wanted to take action.
So when I did join MBLIS, I was decidedly unimpressed. It was a completely new agency with hardly any personnel. Our director was a soft-hearted oaf, our intelligence analyst was an antisocial neurotic, our lab tech was a twitchy space cadet, and the second-in-command was a happy-go-lucky moron. Then, of course, there was the only other field agent, a boisterous, careless woman who couldn’t seem to take anything seriously.
Of course, these were only my first impressions. I will admit that I can be a harsh judge of character and that perhaps I jumped to conclusions too quickly. Although I’d initially been tempted to quit, I had eventually grown to love my job and my coworkers. Even if they could be grating at times, working with MBLIS was still far more fulfilling than any other job I’d ever held. So when we were attacked in our own base in such a cowardly manner, I’d taken it as a personal offense.
Director Wallace and I were currently on our way to a residential neighborhood in southern California. We’d managed to trace the license plate number that Fiona had given us to an address there. We’d flown out the same day that Fiona, Junior, and Charlie had left, and we were now making our way there in a rented car. Wallace was driving, which was fine by me. I didn’t particularly care for it, and I knew myself well enough to know that it was probably unwise for me to be behind the wheel right now. I was too angry to think rationally, so it would be unsafe for me to be in control of a vehicle.
Strictly speaking, I probably shouldn’t have been working while I was in this state. I was skilled in hiding my emotions, though, and it wasn’t as though we had anyone else to put on the case. The entire reason that Wallace was even here was that Miranda was in the hospital. In my entire time at MBLIS, I’d never known him to go into the field. We were a small agency, though, and we would have to make it work.
As we pulled up to the house, I thought about Miranda, who had left intensive care the day before but was still in the hospital. She’d flaunted her usual devil-may-care attitude when we’d gone to visit her, but I knew her well enough to see beyond the mask. It was killing her not to be able to participate in the case or even to stand up and move around. Miranda was an adrenaline junkie, and more often than not, I wound up having to pull her back from jumping headfirst into a dangerous situation or else follow in after her to make sure she didn’t get herself killed. She was my work partner and my best friend, and I could feel fury threatening to spill out from within me every time I thought of the bastard who’d caused her so much suffering.
The house was nothing special, a single-family ranch style with a small front yard. It was a nice neighborhood, but even so, I made sure to keep an eye on our surroundings as we pulled into the driveway.
“So, how do you want to approach this?” Wallace asked.
“You’re asking me?” I turned to look at him skeptically. “You’re the boss, shouldn’t you tell me?”
“That’s true,” Wallace smiled. “But it’s been years since I stopped being a field agent and starting sitting behind a desk. I’m certain a lot has changed in the past ten years or so. No, the field is your domain. You do whatever you think is best, and I’ll trust your judgment. I reserve the right to veto any decisions, though.”
“I have no problem with that,” I shrugged as I pushed open the door and stepped out of the car. Wallace followed suit, and together we walked up to the door of the house. I will admit it was a little nerve-wracking to be given full control while my boss stood back and followed my lead, but I felt confident enough in my abilities not to falter. I knocked twice, and I could hear noises from inside for a minute before a small, frail-looking young woman with dark hair and pale skin answered the door.
“Can I help you?” She asked meekly, looking back and forth between Wallace and me.
“Hi, are you Chie Nakamura?” I asked, making sure to keep my voice as void of emotion as possible.
“Um, yes,” the woman admitted quietly. “Is everything okay?”
“Can you tell me where you were two nights ago?” I asked, watching her carefully to see what her reaction would be. She stiffened before she spoke.
“I was here, at home,” she mumbled, although she seemed uncertain. “Why do you ask?”
“Ms. Nakamura, are you aware that your vehicle was used as part of a crime two nights ago? A very serious crime, I might add.” Her eyes widened, and I could see her shoulders rising and falling as she began to breathe faster.
“No, I didn’t,” she responded slowly, glancing around as if trying to come up with something to say. “My car was stolen a few days ago, so I don’t know anything about what happened with it after that.”
“It was stolen?” I asked, trying to keep the incredulity at the obvious lie out of my voice. “Did you report it stolen to the police?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure,” she insisted as she began to shake. “I thought maybe a friend or a family member took it.”
“You weren’t sure?” I interrupted. “How could you not be sure if it was stolen or not? You didn’t ask any of your friends or family members if they took it for the past two days? You haven’t been concerned about not having your car?” My voice was starting to take on a mocking edge, and even though I knew it was unprofessional, I was struggling to rein in my emotions.
“I don’t know,” she whimpered, on the verge of crying now.
“You don’t know,” I repeated coldly. “You do understand that if you’re lying about it being stolen, we’ll have to arrest you as a suspect in this crime, correct? Your car was recently used in a very serious crime, and you can’t confirm whether you were in possession of it at the time.” I lifted my hand toward my bag for my handcuffs, fully intending to make good on my word, and arrest her. Before I could, though, she flinched, and I noticed that she had bruises along her arm.
“I believe we’ve made a mistake,” I said curtly as I took a few steps back. “I’m sorry to have upset you, Ms. Nakamura. Let’s go, director.” I turned on my heel and marched briskly back to the car.
“What was that about?” Wallace asked as he got into the car.
“Park the car somewhere that’s close enough so that we can still watch the front door without being seen,” I told him.
Wallace did as I asked before turning to me with an expectant expression.
“She flinched when I lifted my hand,” I explained, “and she had bruises all over her arm. Both are classic signs of domestic abuse. It’s clear that she was lying to us about not knowing where the car was, but we wouldn’t have gained anything from arresting her. I can’t believe I almost let myself lose control like that.”
“It happens to the best of us,” Wal
lace shrugged. “Proves we’re still human even after working a job like this. So tell me why you decided not to arrest her. We might have been able to get more out of her.”
“Because battered women are conditioned to operate a certain way,” I responded. “If my hunch is correct, she’ll be calling whoever’s been abusing her right about now to report the fact that we were here. I have a feeling he’s the man who attacked Fiona, or he will at least know the identity of the man who did.”
“Sounds like solid reasoning to me,” Wallace nodded as he sat back in his chair. He’d allowed me to take the lead here, but I could tell he was still observing my thoughts and actions carefully. We couldn’t be sure how long it would take for the suspect to get here, or if he would even show up at all. I was operating under a presumption, but there was always a possibility that I was mistaken. Normally, I would settle into my seat with a set of knitting needles, but I was too wound up at the moment to relax. I wanted to be ready to pounce the moment I caught sight of him.
I didn’t have to wait for long. Less than half an hour later, a dark blue minivan came screeching down the road before coming to an abrupt stop in front of the house.
“You were right,” Wallace congratulated me as he sat up straight and watched as a man stepped out of the van.
I wanted to respond that I nearly always was, but that would have been an unprofessional way to speak to my direct superior, so I held my tongue. As trying as working alongside Miranda could be, being partnered with my boss carried a completely different kind of stress.
I slowly and quietly opened the door, ready to rush forward as soon as the man gave me the slightest provocation. Before he could reach the door of the house, Nakamura rushed out of the house in tears. I couldn’t hear what she was saying from this distance, but I could only assume she was explaining what had transpired just a few minutes earlier. The man yelled something back. Whatever he said wasn’t in English, but I couldn’t place the language immediately. Then he reared back and slapped her across the face, and that was all the permission I needed to move in.
I broke into a sprint toward the pair as he began to shake her by the arm. It was a little ironic, as usually, Miranda would have been the one to go tearing off on her own without warning. I couldn’t miss this opportunity, though.
“Get on the ground, now!” I yelled as I got within a few feet of them. I pulled my gun out of its holster and pointed it at the man. “Face down, on the ground, right now!”
Nakamura was sobbing and rubbing the left side of her face, which was quickly growing red where the man had struck her. The man did as I said and began to lower himself into a kneeling position. Wallace had caught up to me by now and had his own gun trained on the suspect, so I re-holstered my gun as I approached him. Just as I was leaning down to cuff him, he rolled onto his back and attempted to kick me.
This wasn’t my first experience with combative suspects, though. Before he could make contact, I took hold of his leg by the shin and pushed down hard on his knee, stopping just short of breaking it at the joint. The man howled in pain, and I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, stop that,” I admonished, taking the opportunity to push him into his back and handcuff him. “If you hadn’t tried to assault a federal agent, that wouldn’t have happened. And if I had done any real damage, you wouldn’t even be able to stand.”
I yanked him onto his feet roughly. His leg would probably hurt for a while, but I had enough martial arts training to know how to cause the most debilitating pain without causing permanent damage. In the grand scheme of everyone I’d ever engaged in physical combat with, this suspect hadn’t even posed a threat.
“What am I being arrested for?” The man barked at me. “I haven’t done anything. You can’t prove anything!”
“Haven’t done anything?” I asked as I patted him down in search of any weapons or contraband. “You just assaulted Ms. Nakamura. You’re under arrest for domestic assault, of course.”
“No!” Nakamura cried out. “It’s okay. It was an accident. I don’t want to press charges!”
“I’m afraid it’s not up to you,” Wallace informed him as he pulled out his phone, presumably to call for police backup. “You may choose not to cooperate with the investigation if that’s what you prefer. However, as federal agents, we can’t simply walk away from a crime after we’ve seen it occur right in front of us. Ultimately, it will be up to the district attorney to decide whether we move forward with this investigation. For the time being, we will be taking him into custody.”
Nakamura looked shell-shocked, and now that we had the suspect, I started to feel a little bad about having effectively used her as bait to lure him here. I didn’t regret what I’d done since it had been the quickest and most efficient way of getting what we needed, but I did feel bad that she had to be a part of this.
“There are resources available for women in your position, Ms. Nakamura,” I assured her after Wallace had led the man away to sit on the curb while we waited for police to arrive. I took one of my business cards out of my bag and scribbled the name and number of an organization dedicated to helping women escape from domestic abuse situations. “They’re based in Las Vegas, but if you call them, they’ll help you connect with someone in this area. And my number is on the front of the card. You can call me at any time if you need help or have questions.” I held the card out to her, but she didn’t take it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she murmured without looking me in the eye. “I don’t need anything like that. Kazuo was just stressed from work, and I upset him by screaming right as he got home.”
“Kazuo? That’s his name?” I asked.
Nakamura turned even paler as she realized she had slipped.
“No, I mean, yes, it is, but…” she trailed off as she glanced over my shoulder toward the spot where Kazuo was sitting on the curb beside Wallace.
“He can’t hear you. You don’t have to worry,” I tried to get through to her. “And you shouldn’t be so concerned about him. Surely you understand that the reason he used your car was so that he could throw all the blame on you if he was caught. Are you really willing to go to jail for him?”
Honestly, I wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but I needed information, and it wasn’t like I was wrong. He obviously didn’t care about her well-being, so why should she care about his?
“His name is Kazuo Otsuka,” she muttered quietly, staring unblinkingly over my shoulder. “He really did take my car two days ago. He said he needed it because he was helping his friend move something big, and my car is bigger than his. I didn’t drive it, I swear. I’ve been here at home the whole time.”
“I believe you, Ms. Nakamura,” I nodded, and she visibly relaxed as I did.
Even though we’d caught Otsuka, that still left at least one person unaccounted for. Fiona had said that someone had shot at her from the passenger’s seat while someone else drove, so there were at least two suspects. That being said, I really did believe that Nakamura didn’t have anything to do with it. She’d seemed surprised when I mentioned the crime, and she seemed more scared of Otsuka himself than she did of getting in trouble.
“Well, just in case you change your mind,” I smiled sadly, holding out the card again. “There are people who can help you. If I have anything to say about it, Otsuka won’t be free for a long time. You don’t have to be afraid.” For a minute, Nakamura just stood still, staring at the ground. After a long pause, she slowly lifted her hand and took the card from me. I sincerely hoped that she wouldn’t just throw it away.
17
Charlie
“Are you sure you’re set up with everything you need?” I asked as I took a final look around the hotel room. Junior and I were meeting with the local police this morning, but before we left, we’d decided to help Gardner set up her makeshift office and ensure that she was secure. After Junior had fallen asleep on the plane, she and I had spent the last few hours of the flight talking and playi
ng some complicated video game on her computer. It had actually been pretty fun, and she reminded me a little of Eliza. She was really nice and patient with me even when I kept dying in the game, and now I couldn’t help but feel worried about whether she would be safe here alone in the hotel room. I kept imagining what would happen if it was Eliza in her place, and the result was never good.
Eliza would probably open the door to anyone who happened to knock and invite them in for some coffee and homemade pastries. That wasn’t fair to Gardner, though. Even if she did seem shy and quiet, she was still a federal agent. She had to go through the same examinations and application processes as the rest of us, which meant that she was qualified to do this job. It would be an insult for me to underestimate her.
“I’ll be fine,” Gardner insisted. “I’ve got all of my equipment set up. I won’t leave the room unless it’s an emergency, and if something does happen, I can call the two of you. And if things really go south, I have my gun, of course. In a holster this time.” She patted the gun on her hip for emphasis.
“With any luck, you won’t need it,” Junior responded as she checked his own bag for the third time. “I think I have everything I need. Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” I replied.
Ever since I’d woken up that morning, I’d been buzzing with excited energy. I wanted nothing more than to get to work and give my mind something to work out. After taking one last look around the room, we walked out of the room and into the hallway.
“It’s kind of weird that we’ll be taking the subway around instead of using a car while we’re here,” Junior commented as we made our way into the elevator.
