Girl Fights Back (Go No Sen) (Emily Kane Adventures) (12 page)

She found Sensei in the parking lot
of the dojo in street clothes: jeans and sneakers and a light jacket. It wasn’t
perfect camo, but it would probably do as long as they kept well concealed. He
got on the back of the bike and they sped off toward the estate. She rode past
the main gate to the spot along the edge of the forest where the stream emptied
into the culvert under the roadway. They concealed the bike in the underbrush
just inside the forest and picked their way along the stream bed. If she had
been by herself she would have run the distance to the base of Promontory Rock.
But Sensei was not familiar with the forest, and she thought he wouldn’t be
able to move that fast in the dark.

They positioned themselves on the
top of the rock and surveyed the estate. The moon was still a little more than
half full, so there was enough light to see the buildings clearly. She handed
the rifle scope to Sensei and let him look. He gasped when he saw the gutted
main house. But there was more. Several large, dark SUVs with blacked out
windows were parked in the drive with their head lights trained on the house. A
number of shadowy figures in dark clothes were carrying sacks and boxes out of
the basement and putting them in the vehicles. Finally, three men wheeled out
what looked like a large refrigerator and loaded it into a van. Emily imagined
it was probably the mainframe from the estate’s computer network.

“What the hell happened here? And
who are those guys?” Sensei growled.

“I can’t really tell from here, but
they’re dressed like the guys who invaded the estate last weekend. But it’s
more complicated than that.”

Emily told him about the attack at
the concert a few weeks earlier, and the plan to evacuate the estate that it
triggered. She told him she didn’t know what happened to the rest of the
household, whether any of them were safe. But she and her father had not
managed to escape before the invasion, and he had died of the wounds he
sustained protecting her. She remembered her mom’s warning and only told him
enough to understand what had happened to her dad. She said nothing about her
new name, or about Yuki, or about the genetics program. She said she didn’t
know why these people would attack the estate. She knew nothing of Mr.
Cardano’s business, or the government agencies he worked with or for. Sensei
had no reason to think otherwise. But now at least he understood Emily’s
distress and the extremity of her situation.

They made their
way down to the stream bed and back to the road. On the ride back to town
Sensei struggled to understand what must have happened that night. But it just
exceeded his abilities. He simply didn’t know enough about George’s life, or
Cardano’s to really fathom the meaning of what he had just seen. He knew George
had been involved in a number of tight situations working with Cardano on State
Department business. He assumed that really meant covert operations. The
nighttime attack on the estate a week ago, the guys in the black trucks and dark
uniforms ransacking the place, it all reeked of some sort of covert operation.
He didn’t know how to help Emily, how to protect her, or even who it was he
should protect her from. But he knew he had to keep a special eye on her.

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Chapter 10:
A Meeting on the Road

School was closed the following
Thursday and Friday for parent-teacher conferences. Of course, there would be
no conference for Emily, nor was one needed. She was a model student, always
prepared for class, always alert. As enigmatic as she appeared to her teachers,
especially in the last couple of weeks, there was nothing more they could want
from her as a student. She loved her math and science classes, chemistry this
term, but also world history. Her history teacher noticed her special curiosity
about Asian history. He assumed it was because she was partly of Chinese
descent. She didn’t disabuse him of his confusion. Until recently, it was a
confusion she shared.

She took the time off to insulate
herself from a few more details of her former life. Across the mountains in
Harrisonburg, the next large town west of the Shenandoahs, she took the truck
to an auto detailing shop to have it repainted dark green. A trivial change
perhaps, but it was in subtle shifts like this one that she hoped to find
safety. The one huge hole in her precautions was the fact that she was still
attending school as Emily Kane. Even if they didn’t know she was Yuki’s
daughter, if Meacham’s people took the trouble to inquire at the school, they
would know immediately that she was George Kane’s daughter. That in itself
might make her seem to be worth pursuing. It was a chance she was determined to
take. She had to continue to be Emily Kane for a few more months, even as she
was laying the groundwork to become Michiko Tenno at the right moment.

She made her arrangements with the
paint shop, took the dirt bike out of the back of the truck, and rode back to
Warm Springs. She took a scenic route through Buffalo Gap, cut across the
mountains to Deerfield and turned south on Marble Valley Road to Goshen. The
foliage was still in full autumn color and this might be the last weekend one
could enjoy it. It was thrilling to cut through the wind at top speed, the late
morning sun setting the trees on the eastern ridgeline alight. She let her mind
race on ahead, up and down the mountains on either side of the road. A few
miles outside of Deerfield she saw a pair of motorcycles in her mirror that
seemed familiar. She remembered seeing a similar pair outside of Staunton on
the other side of Buffalo Gap. She turned down a Forest Service road on the
right to see if they would follow.

It was a winding dirt road that
turned south down a narrow valley between two ridges. As soon as she cleared
the second turn, she pulled off the road to the left and sped up what looked
like an old hiking trail. She stopped just below the ridge overlooking Marble
Valley Road, cut the engine and watched the road. The two motorcyclists seemed
to be conferring on the side of the road about a quarter mile down stopped near
a black van. Were they talking about her? Were these more of Meacham’s men? She
watched as they turned around and found their way to the Forest Service road.
The van pulled on to the shoulder and waited while the motorcycles turned off.
From her position, Emily could see the van and the dirt road. The motorcycles
rode past the trail she had taken. She wondered how long it would take them to
realize she hadn’t gone further down the road. There was no movement at the van.

She had to make a decision. It
would be easy enough to evade these men, but then she wouldn’t find out who
they were. If they had first marked her in Harrisonburg, this might be the best
course. But if they knew of her apartment over the Rincon’s garage, or that she
was attending school, she was no longer safe, and neither were her friends. She
could let them find her, take them on and see what she could find out about
them. It would be risky, but she had a substantial advantage in that they were
likely to underestimate her. She would want to make sure they didn’t spot her
from a distance. She could probably control them at close range, maybe prevent
them from using a radio or a gun. If she killed them, however, it would
probably attract even more attention from whatever organization sent them. It
was more important to find out who they were and what they knew about her.

The motorcycles hadn’t returned
yet. She looked at the van. There was no activity there. She rolled the bike
down the hill without starting the engine. She had to crash through some
underbrush here and there, since the trail was not continuous on this side of
the ridge. At the bottom, she left the bike behind some trees and watched the
men in the van. She could see two in the front seats. They seemed to speak only
to each other without making any gestures to the back of the van. She hoped
that meant there weren’t any others. The direct approach appealed to her, maybe
because it was her father’s way, so she walked out of the woods, crossed the
road and tapped on the driver’s window. He was startled to see her and seemed
at a loss for words, as if he didn’t know whether he should sit and talk
innocently with this pretty girl on the side of the road, or burst out of the
van and take her into custody. He rolled down the window.

“You guys lost?” she asked
pointedly.

Though he was probably not much
more than thirty, that seemed old to her. The man in the passenger seat made a
move to get out, but the driver motioned to him to stay put. She had guessed
right, there were no other men in the van. Bulges under their jackets told her
they were armed, but they wore official looking clothes, jackets and ties.
Emily thought this meant they weren’t simply criminals. Perhaps something like
a conversation was possible. But she wanted to keep it brief. The return of the
motorcycles might upset the odd equipoise that hung in the air. And then
violence might ensue.

“Look guys, I know you’re following
me. What the hell do you want?” The driver was still dumbfounded. Finally he
figured out how to respond.

“I’m sorry, Miss, I can’t disclose
the details of an active investigation,” he ventured with obvious diffidence.

“An investigation. Fine! Then who
the hell are you? FBI? Let’s see some ID,” she demanded with a sneer. She had a
pretty good idea the FBI didn’t work out of dark vans with guys on motorcycles.

“I can’t disclose that, Miss,” he
replied. “But we want to talk to you about the events of a couple of weeks ago
on Michael Cardano’s estate.”

“Fine! Let’s talk. What did happen
to the estate? Did you guys burn it down?” She wanted to put him on the
defensive, maybe find out what he really knew about her before revealing
anything.

“You were there, weren’t you? Why
don’t you tell us?”

“Just who do you think I am?” she
asked with a mocking tone.

“You’re the chauffeur’s daughter.
You lived there. What did you see that night?”

“Who’s asking? You gotta give
something to get something,” she said defiantly.

When he didn’t respond, she turned
and strode across the road toward the trees. The driver clamored out of the van
with his gun drawn and shouted “Stop right there!” Emily turned and looked at
him over her shoulder. The other man could be seen getting out of the passenger
side, no doubt with his gun out too. The driver took three long strides toward
her until he had his gun a few inches from her face. “On the ground,” he
barked. They were standing in the middle of the road. She looked him in the
eye, saw a flicker of uncertainty, and ignored him.

He took his left hand off the gun
and reached for her shoulder, expecting to pull her to the ground, confident
his gun gave him a commanding advantage. She let him pull her toward him. But
instead of falling backwards, she spun toward him, slapping his gun hand across
his chest, glaring directly into his face until he flinched and averted his
eyes. Before he realized what was happening, she had taken hold of his wrist
and elbow, twisting his gun hand down, around and finally pulling sharply
upwards. He resisted, but her hands were stronger than he expected. The pain in
his elbow was too great, and he had to allow himself to be bent over into an
awkward crouch. The twisting movement accelerated and rather than merely being
forced to kneel, he found himself flipped onto his back, his right arm bent in
an extremely awkward angle. She placed her foot on his neck, twisted the gun
out of his hapless hand and pointed it at his chest.

When the second man came around the
back of the van he didn’t expect his partner to be already disarmed and
helpless. He raised his gun and rushed forward shouting “Drop the gun!” She
looked at him with an insouciant smile, gave the driver’s arm a slight twist
with her left hand and when he howled in pain said “Gun down!” They stared at
each other for a brief moment. She twisted the arm one more time and he howled
“Do what she says!” The other man was clearly flustered, but he complied. “Kick
it over there! Sit down next to the van!” A moment later, she stood over both
men and demanded wallets and IDs. There was nothing informative there. They had
no official credentials, and their personal information was meaningless to her.
She threw their wallets and keys into the trees behind the van. She looked the
driver in the eyes and said “I wasn’t there when the attack happened. I don’t
know who did it. Don’t bother me again, unless you have something to tell
me
.”
She turned to walk back across the road.

“Wait! Wait. Okay. Three of our
agents were killed that night. We found their burned bodies in one of the
outbuildings, maybe a woodshed. We need to know what happened,” he finally said
with a sigh. This was puzzling news, and even enough to fluster her. It didn’t
fit with the events she saw from the woods. But she couldn’t contradict it
without admitting she was there.

“I can’t help you,” she said and
started walking away.

“Wait! Here, take this.” He tossed
her a tiny phone with only one button. “Call if you want to talk. The man who
answers will be able to help you.” She looked at the phone skeptically for a
moment, then put it in her pocket. She walked quickly back to her bike, tossed
their guns into the underbrush, and sped off down Marble Valley Road. She
looked back, but didn’t see any sign that they were pursuing her.

Emily knew the phone was dangerous.
Whatever else she did, she knew she couldn’t bring it home with her. Even if it
wasn’t tracking her now, she knew they could use it to track her at any time.
She wasn’t sure she could risk using the phone, or even what she would say to
whoever answered. She needed to talk to Mr. Cardano. She rode down to the
community college in Clifton Forge to use their library. She didn’t want to
risk using the Goshen Library again.