“Chief
Northport,” she said, bowing her head. I didn’t listen as Daryl went through
the introductions again. I was watching Brenner. He’d reached the command
trailer, flashed his identification to the trooper at the foot of the steps
and hurried inside.
“How
is Deputy Governor Bain?” Cobb was asking when I turned my attention back to
the group. “Hain’t seen him in about a year or more.”
“The
general is well and sends his regards,” she replied.
“Well
you just tell him that he’s always welcome in our fair city.”
“I
will do that, Mayor Cobb.” She smiled.
To
the south, I could hear the growing roar of a straining engine.
“Sounds
like the ambassador’s almost here,” Daryl said.
“I
believe you’re correct, chief,” Takeda said. “If you’ll excuse Mr. Welles
and I, we have some last minute preparations to make.”
“Of
course,” Cobb said. “Understand completely. Ya’ll come by my office when
you’re up my way. You’re always welcome.”
Takeda
bowed deeply, then turned and started for the command trailer. I fell in
beside her.
“Last
minute preparations?” I asked.
She
smiled. “A small untruth,” she said. “I am not fond of those
encounters.”
“Me
either,” I said. To my right, I saw a small figure moving fast in our
direction.
“Commander,
Mr. Welles,” Martinez said, stopping in front of us with a crisp
salute.
“Trooper,”
Takeda said. She looked at me. “When the trailer is in place, meet me at the
entrance.” She paused. “And after we have exchanged pleasantries with the
ambassador, there is another matter to discuss.”
“Got
it,” I said. It sounded like she’d decided that I could be let in on
whatever Brenner had told her.
As
she walked away, I turned to Martinez. “I’ve been here for five minutes,
Lita. You’re a little late.”
“Yes,
sir, I saw you and the commander when you arrived. I used my discretion and
let you hobnob with the mucky-mucks before I joined you.”
“Good
call,” I said. “So what do you know?”
“Sir?”
“What
have you seen, what have you heard? You’re my eyes and ears here,
trooper.”
“Nothing
out of the ordinary, sir,” she said. “B Company was relieved by A Company
approximately an hour ago. Captain Edwards moved her command staff into the
trailer, Commander Takeda checked in, then left. I’ve just been hanging
around since, waiting for you.”
“Any
trouble with Lt. Stein?”
She
shook her head. “No, sir, the lieutenant welcomed me back and told me to
bunk with the platoon at City Barracks tonight.”
“Good,”
I said.
“The
only other thing that happened was a civilian who just came into the
trailer. I don’t know who he is.”
“His
name is Brenner and he works for me. What did he do?
“Went
over to one of the unoccupied commo stations, put on a pair of headphones,
and started transmitting. I just saw him there for a second on my way
out.”
That
was interesting.
Martinez
was staring past me. “Holy shit,” she muttered.
I
turned. The transporter was slowly rumbling into Jackson Square. It looked
like something they might have used at NASA, before the war,
before they shut down the space shuttle program. A huge, wide vehicle with a
tower-like cab at each of the four corners. And between them, in the middle
of the transporter, was an object that looked like a huge black metal shoe
box
Everybody
in the square was staring at it. The transporter was moving very slowly,
maybe two or three miles per hour, if that. It crept into the square, and
slowly made the turn onto Fredericksburg, finally came to a stop behind the
crane with growling engines and a burst of air from the brakes.
“That
thing is massive,” Martinez said.
The
vehicle had barely stopped before crews came out of the four towers and
began to deploy the straps that would lift and cradle the trailer for its
ride to the center of the square.
“Sure
hope those straps don’t break,” she said softly.
My
eye caught movement at the command trailer. Everyone inside had evacuated
and moved back fifty yards. Even Brenner. The final resting place of the
ambassador’s trailer was not exactly next to the command trailer, but close.
I guess they didn’t want to take the chance that the crane operator might
miscalculate. Even Vees can’t survive being crushed under tons of
metal.
“Looks
like somebody else has the same concerns,” I said. “Personally I figure they
put it on the transporter, they know how to get it off in one
piece.”
They
did, though it took nearly an hour. One of the guys from the transporter
scampered up the side of the trailer using a rope that hung down from the
roof. Once up there, he grabbed the end of each strap as it was flung up by
the men below and fixed the end connectors to a giant ring that extended up
from the body of the trailer. Then the crane swung around and the same guy
grabbed the hook block at the end of the crane’s hoist line and maneuvered
it into the ring.
He
wrapped an arm around the ring, looked across at the crane operator, and
punched his free arm into the air twice.
Slowly
the hoist line tightened. The trailer lifted from the transporter. It hung
there, swaying gently, before somebody on the ground gave the okay and the
crane operator lifted it higher and slowly swung it toward the
square.
There
was no accident, no miscalculation. The crane operator was good. He moved
the trailer so smoothly that there was very little swing, and placed it
gently on the ground, exactly where it was supposed to go. Well, gently
being a relative term. I’m sure the ambassador and those with him inside
might have felt differently.
In
the bright light of the square, I saw a wide hatch at the end of the
trailer, facing roughly north. Takeda was walking toward it.
I
looked down at Martinez. “Okay, make yourself scarce while Miss Takeda and I
go hobnob with another mucky-muck.” I paused. “Actually, rejoin your company
at City Barracks and get some rest. As soon as I’m done, I’m going home and
going to bed. I’ll be back here half an hour before sunrise tomorrow. Make
sure you’re here too.”
“Yes,
sir,” she said. She paused. “Sir, what is that thing made of?”
I
looked at the trailer. “No idea. Steel maybe?”
“You
might ask, sir. If it’s not thick enough, an armor-piercing round or RPG
could peel it like an orange.”
“I’ll
do that, trooper. Good thinking.”
“Sir,”
Martinez saluted, turned, and walked away.
I
hurried to where Takeda stood, directly in front of the wide
hatch.
“Nothing
from inside yet,” she said. “We suggested that the ambassador have some kind
of communications equipment inside the trailer, but the suggestion was
rejected.”
“Let’s
hope they’re not all dead inside.”
She
looked at me, her eyes just a little wide. “Do you believe that to be
possible?”
I
think she was starting to get antsy again about meeting the Ancestor inside
the trailer. Before I could reply, we heard a sound from the hatch and a
moment later, it swung open.
A
black guy who seemed to be in his late thirties stood in the opening,
wearing a standard U.S. Army camouflage battle dress uniform. He looked at
us for a moment, then dropped the two feet to the ground and approached
us.
He
stared from me in my suit to Takeda in her duster and Security Force
uniform. Then he raised his hand to his head in a lazy salute. “Captain
Ronald Clay,” he said. “United States Army.”
Chapter
Ten
Clay’s
uniform had no unit patch on the left arm, no U.S. flag on the right. Just
the twin captain’s bars on the tab in the middle of his chest.
Takeda
did not return the salute. “Tiffany Takeda,” she said. “Security Force,
Administrative Area Three.”
“Tiffany,”
Clay repeated. “Real pretty. Did you momma name you after that eighties pop
singer?”
“Perhaps,”
Takeda said softly.
“That’s
nice,” he replied with a smile. He ran the back of a hand across his
forehead. “Mighty hot out here, tonight. Aren’t you kind of warm in that
long coat?”
“No.”
“No,
I guess you wouldn’t be.” He studied her from head to toe. “Well, Tiffany, I
have to say that you’re the first vampire nanny we’ve had that carries a
sword.”
Takeda
was silent for a moment, then said, “That’s because I’m not a nanny, Mr.
Clay.”
“Captain
Clay,” he said.
“Miss
Takeda,” she replied.
He
grinned. “Fair enough,” he said. “You mind if I take a look at your
blade?”
Takeda
pulled back the duster. “Please.”
Clay
leaned forward and pulled the short sword from the scabbard under her arm.
He held it up, the blade gleaming in the bright lights of the square. “A
very nice wakizashi, Miss Takeda. Old.” He studied the blade for a moment.
“Sukemune?”
She
shook her head slightly. “Nagatsugu.”
“Pretty
sweet,” he said. “Must have cost you a pretty penny.”
“It
was a gift from Deputy Area Governor Bain.”
“Nice
gift,” he said. He swung the sword a couple of times, then offered it to
Takeda, hilt first. “And nice to have somebody who gives you gifts worth
fifteen or twenty thousand dollars.”
Takeda
took the sword and returned it to the sheath. “You know your swords,
captain.”
“I
know a lot of things.”
“Then
you probably know that your rank and affiliation with the United States Army
is no longer valid. You are not on the active duty roster.”
Clay
laughed. “You know, I had a three-star in D.C. tell me that personally. He
ordered me to remain in-country when the ambassador returns to
Germany.”
“And
will you obey that order?”
“Well,
I would,” he said. “Only my orders come from a four-star in Germany.
Commander, United States European Command. Air Force general, but he seems
like maybe he’s an Army man at heart.”
We
stood silently for a moment, and I guess Takeda’s small-talk timer was going
off. “Should we not pay our respects to Dr. Heymann?”
“He’ll
let me know when he’s ready,” Clay said. He pulled down the front of his tan
t-shirt and I saw a throat mic. Then he tapped his right ear. I could just
see a small earpiece nestled inside.
He
smiled at Takeda again, then turned to me. “Ron Clay,” he said, holding out
his hand.
As
we shook hands, I said, “Charlie Welles. Night and Day
Investigations.”
“You
a private eye, Charlie?”
I
nodded. “The Area Governor’s Office has hired us to oversee security during
daylight hours.”
“You
do much work with them?”
“No,
this is only the second job I’ve done for the AG’s office,” I
said.
He
smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. “With vampires.”
I
was silent for a couple of seconds, then said, “Actually my agency services
a human and vampire client base. I find that humans and vampires have
similar needs when it comes to private investigators.”
“Yeah,
I guess that’s at least one area where they have similar needs,” he said.
“Either of you mind if I have a smoke while we wait? The ambassador doesn’t
like the way the smell lingers in the box when we’re sealed up.”
“I
have no objections,” I said, and Takeda shook her head.
As
he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of a pocket on his thigh, he said,
“Neither of you would happen to have an American cigarette, would you? I’m
getting tired of Gauloises, Players, Marlboros from Russia or Moldavia.” He
shook his head. “They just don’t taste right to me. You can’t beat American
tobacco.”
“What
is your brand, captain?”
“Kools,”
he said. “Preferred brand of Nat King Cole.” He paused. “You know, they
don’t even sell any menthol cigarettes in Europe anymore.”
“Nat
King Cole died of lung cancer in his forties,” I said.
“Yeah,
that’s what I hear, Charlie.”
Takeda
took out her phone and dialed a number. “This is Takeda,” she said. “Detail
a trooper to buy three cartons of Kool cigarettes and deliver them to the
ambassador’s trailer.” She hung up the phone and put it back in her
coat.
“I
owe you one, Miss Takeda,” he said. “That’ll keep me in smokes while I’m
here and I’ll have some...”
He
stopped suddenly and tapped his throat mic. “Yes, sir?”
Clay
listened for a moment, then said, “Yes, sir. Two of them. Miss Takeda from
the Area Governor’s Office and Charlie Welles, the other one.”