Girl Takes The Oath (An Emily Kane Adventure Book 5) (20 page)

After a few seconds of flailing her arms, during which he tightened his grip, even though this required shifting his weight slightly forward, she found her cue to lean further forward, taking him with her as she pushed her hips back and locked his arms in position. With her lower center of gravity, hoisting him on her back wasn’t difficult, despite his greater weight, since he could no longer release his grip. A slight bend of the knees to balance his weight even further forward, and then she bucked him up and over, somersaulting on top of him as he hit the mat with the combined force of both their bodies. She released his arms just before impact to protect him from a wrist injury. By the time he’d recovered from the shock, still wide-eyed and slightly dazed, he found the heel of her foot inches from his nose.

“Holy crap,” Durant blurted out, and then shouted, “Class is over, everyone. Come back for the afternoon session at sixteen hundred.” With one arm, he guided McIntyre to the edge of the mat, and once the room had cleared, he turned to her, wide-eyed at the paradox before him. “It’s you,
Sensei
. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“If you recall, Staff Sergeant, I did try.”

“But how… I mean, wasn’t your name Kane, or something, last time?”

“That’s just an informal name, you know, for family and friends. It’s my father’s name. My official, for real, name is Michiko Tenno. Always has been.”

“And that guy in the quarterfinals, the one who…”

“Tried to kill me?”

“Yeah. What was that all about?”

“That was you?” McIntyre cried out, all resentment tamped down by the recognition of his tormentor’s identity. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw it. I don’t think anyone could. One minute, he’s got his knife all up in your face, and then in a flash you turn the tables on him, and…”

“I know,” she said. “We don’t really have to relive it, do we?”

“I bet NCIS has been all over you,” Durant said, changing the subject.

“Not really. At least, not as bad as I thought they’d be.”

“I wonder why not,” Perez said. “I mean a Chinese national, killed in our tournament, after he…”

“And what about that business with the sprinklers?” McIntyre asked. “Did you guys hear about that? Practically flooded the field.”

“That’s not even the strangest part,” Durant said. “Didn’t you see it? There’s this huge dead spot in the middle now, like someone spilled a few hundred gallons of bleach or something on the field.” Emily smiled quietly to hear how Connie’s precautions were received.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Perez asked. “I mean, it was so strange watching you take down bigger, stronger guys. What’s the secret?”

McIntyre echoed his sentiment. “Yeah, because it’s not like you were any faster than them. And what you did to Talavera, that was like circus-style.”

“I got a little carried away with that one,” she admitted. “But he was so much taller than me, it was hard to resist just climbing up him.”

“But how…” McIntyre tried to ask, until he ran out of words.

“It’s no different from what you experienced just now,” she said. “Every strength is also a weakness, to the extent that it blinds you to other possibilities.”

“And every weakness is also a strength?” Durant asked.

“If you let it show you what else is possible. Your brute-force hold, for example,” she said to McIntyre. “It tricked you into thinking only of immobilizing me, and you saw how that turned out.”

“But that Chinese guy, he almost killed you,” McIntyre protested. “He was stronger and faster. What was his weakness?”

“He didn’t have any.”

“I don’t get it. If he had no weakness, what advantage did you have?”

“The Marines. They helped me… you guys helped me find my chance.”

“You’re a diplomat,” Durant said. “I’ll give you that. But why are you down here again. You must have done your PROTRAMID last summer. Are you gonna request a Leatherneck billet?” When she nodded, he said, “I can’t say I’m not pleased, not after the other night. But you’ve gotta know there’s no way they’ll let you see any front line action. The best they’ll give you is flying choppers, and that seems like a waste of your skills.”

“And you can see me pushing paper on a cruiser?”

“Well, no, I suppose…”

“I’m not looking for action, but action has a way of finding me. I can’t think of a better way to meet it than with a pack of Devil Dogs.” Emily paused for a moment, and then continued: “If it turns out that I find myself attached to an MEU as, say, a public affairs officer, and my unit needed another non-com, I might find myself making a recommendation to my CO, and you know how persuasive I can be. I might be looking for someone who understands me, and is willing to give up a cushy, stateside post, on the off-chance of seeing a little action.”

Durant smiled as she unfurled this long, clumsy speech, and nodded his head.

~~~~~~~

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” O’Brien snarled.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Michael replied, leaning back in the faded leather sofa of a non-descript office in a non-descript building on K Street, one of several the agency maintained for so-called neutral-ground meetings with officials from other agencies. Books filled the shelves on two walls, though no one would ever read them again, their purpose being purely acoustical now. The elaborate patterning of the Turkish rug gave it slightly more aesthetic functionality. Since a desk would do little to shape the voices in the room, none had been provided, just another sofa facing the one Michael sat in, and two easy chairs.

“Don’t give me that bull. You’re up to your neck in this, and if I find any sign of your people anywhere at Quantico, I’ll take it to the Intelligence Sub-Committee in an instant.”

“Sit down, have a cigar,” Michael said, “and tell me why you’re so concerned about a dead foreign operative. It’s not like
you
killed him.”

“If you think you can smooth your way out of this…” he said as he lowered himself into the chair and, scowling as long as he could, finally reached for a cigar. “Cubans,” He observed. “You guys think you can do whatever you like, don’t you?”

“Now, why don’t you tell me what the Navy’s interest in this case is,” Michael intoned slowly, feigning distraction as he held out the lighter. “I mean, other than that one of your best and brightest was almost killed the other night. Did I miss the memo, or has the Secretary of the Navy been billeted to the Chinese embassy?”

“You start talking like that in public and I will come at you with everything I’ve got,” O’Brien snarled. Then pedaling back a bit, “…and you know very well, with the Pacific Rim conference and the treaty negotiations, I’m practically plenipotentiary.”

“Maybe, but you don’t work at State. And has it even occurred to you what would have happened if you’d let a hostile power kill one of our own?”

“Lots of good men have given their lives for the Corps. The Navy is bigger than any one person.”

“But you aren’t, and getting her killed at a PR event would not have seemed a worthy sacrifice to anyone. They’d have been calling for your head on the Hill if Jiao had succeeded. She saved your bacon the other night.”

“Just what is she to you, anyway? Are you trying to plant another asset in the fleet?”

“She’s family, Tom.”

“The hell she is,” O’Brien snapped.

“Fine, call it a ‘blended’ family, then. Her father was a close friend, and from her side, I’m sure we’re the closest thing she has to family, besides her mother.”

“Oh... I see. But that doesn’t…”

“She wasn’t wrong about the Chinese, what she said the other night, even if she spoke out of turn. And you have no idea what Zhang is scheming behind your back. Whatever promises you think he’s made, I guarantee you he won’t honor them.”

“You know, everything that lands on my desk is always tugged on by a dozen hands. And your girl’s been at the center of most of ’em lately.”

“Like what?”

O’Brien ran a hand through his thinning hair and tilted his head in Michael’s direction—was he sizing him up for a genuine disclosure, or just laying the groundwork for some subterfuge?

“The Women’s Caucus wants to see a woman in a front line billet, you know, commanding a combat unit. They’ve already gotten wind of her. The Marine Commandant wants to find just one woman who can meet the command physical standards, and you can bet he’s keeping an eye on her, especially after the tournament.”

“I can tell you right now that she doesn’t want attention like that.”

“It may not be up to her. She’s an exemplary midshipman, top of the class. And yet…” O’Brien hesitated before reaching into his bag and producing an official-looking file, stamped NCIS. He held it out. “…she’s caught up in the hairiest incidents of any midshipman I’ve ever heard of.”

Michael thumbed through the file, trying not to look shocked by what he saw, until one item caught his eye. “What the… We never heard anything about this.”

“You mean the Patuxent River Bridge incident?”

“Well, yeah, that one, but also a brawl in Chinhae, and two more incidents in Annapolis. It looks like you have five incidents in seven months. Were there others in the previous two years?”

O’Brien shook his head. “If you guys are all one happy family, how come she hasn’t told you what’s been going on?”

“I can have the Asian desk look this over,” Michael said, holding the file rolled up like a relay baton in a beefy hand, at which point O’Brien snatched it away.

“Oh no you don’t.”

“…and I’m pretty confident they’ll confirm that all the incidents are coordinated out of Beijing.”

“That’d be pretty convenient for you, laying it all off on the Chinese.”

“Only as convenient as it is true, Tom. Don’t ignore what’s right in front of your face.”

“Why would the Chinese be interested in one midshipman? Besides, the Chinhae brawl was probably just about tension over the islands.”

“What islands?”

“C’mon, Michael. Don’t play dumb with me. There’s always tension over one or another disputed island over there. Either it’s the proposed base on Jeju, or saber-rattling over the Senkakus. She just happened into some spontaneous explosion of resentment over one of those.”

“In my experience, nothing ever happens spontaneously with the Chinese.”

“You still haven’t answered my question. Even if you’re right, what conceivable interest could Beijing have in her?”

“None that I can think of,” Michael said, annoyed at himself for having come so close to revealing a secret more important to him than anything classified by the CIA. Unable to change the subject without drawing even more of SECNAV’s attention to her case, he listened and grunted as O’Brien cycled through more of his own cover story for whatever the Chinese might be up to. By the end of it, Michael was no closer than before to understanding what kind of dealings his old friend had gotten himself tangled up in with Zhang Jun. This was one conversation he didn’t look forward to discussing with Andie.

“That doesn’t help me, Mike,” O’Brien said. “And what if I told you that folder isn’t everything NCIS has, what would you say?”

“Are you having her followed?”

“Yes, ever since…”

“Since State told you of an interest in her, right?”

“You’ve known all along.”

“Of course. Who do you think you’re dealing with?”

“But your story of a Chinese conspiracy doesn’t hold water.”

“Why is that?”

“Because of this guy,” O’Brien said, with a photo in his hand.

“Who is he?”

“Don’t know, but it’s not just NCIS keeping an eye on her. And if he’s not one of yours, then you can see why I might be concerned about her. A few too many people seem to have taken an interest.”

Of course, Michael had a pretty good idea who the man in the photo was, though he could hardly admit it just then. Meeting an agent of the Japanese Imperial Household in dark alleys, how would that look to the Secretary of the Navy? Fortunately, the resolution from the video frame meant no one else could identify him. Not even the techs at NSA could retrieve anything recognizable from it. Who in their right mind would guess he was a
ronin
?

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Chapter Seven
teen

A Secure Phone

“Unless you’ve got an official leave, I better not see you here,” Emily said into the phone Michael had given her the day before, more secure than a sat-phone, not because of the sophistication of the software that scrambled its signal, but because of its near-idiotic simplicity, relying as it did on a dynamic VOIP to route calls to a node in Afghanistan that would only exist for a few hours. By the time anyone knew there was a signal to be captured, the node would no longer exist. Of course, she’d smash the handset on her end to bits in a few minutes, more out of habit than because it would necessarily enhance the security of the call, but for now it was her only connection to Perry.

“That’s bullshit,” he said. “Just who do you think you can count on there? Theo and I are on the other side of the world.”

“What would you do if you were here?”

“I dunno. But I’d be ready if you needed me. Like on that bridge.”

“Would you die with me?”

“You know I would.”

“And that’s exactly why I don’t want you here.”

“What, you’re keeping me safe now?”

“I killed another one,” she said, changing the subject… almost. The tone in her voice enforced a silence on the other end. “I’ve killed too many. When death comes for me, I don’t want to share it. It will be mine alone.”

“So, you’re giving up?”

“No. You don’t need to worry about that. I’ve got people to live for,” she said, meaning Princess Toshi, first and foremost, and Stone and Li Li, and wondering if Perry would understand, if he knew how far down this list he was. “I’ll be careful.”

“And by careful you mean…”

“Merciless.”

The tone in her voice froze him, maybe more than she’d intended. She spent the next few minutes cooing into her end of the line, provoking, teasing and assuaging him all at once, and at least part of her pleasure came from the thought of how the rest of his team would poke fun at him if they could listen in. When she finally let him off the hook, it was because of a noise coming from behind her.

Slowly and with great deliberation, she dismantled the phone, snapped the SIM card in two, and shifted her position on the sofa in Michael’s study. In a swift and sudden move, she reached over the back and thrust her arm into the space between it and the wall, probing, searching, until she found ticklish flesh. Squealing and squirming, Li Li was too big just to hoist up with one hand, now eight years old, and tall and lanky, but still every bit a little kid.

“Come out here, you. Where’s your partner in crime?”

“It’s just me, Emmy,” Li Li finally said, once her face was safely buried under one of Emily’s arms.

“How much did you hear, little one?”

“Did that man hurt you? When you were sparring?

“You saw that?” she asked, keenly aware of the fear trembling in Li Li’s voice, and the flutter in her heart. Even though she’d practically adopted Andie and Yuki as her new mothers, Emily knew that she provided the only real feeling of security Li Li would likely ever know. Even her uncle Jiang, huge as he was, could hardly fill the hole left by the death of her parents… and he hadn’t been the one to rescue her from a prison on the Kamchatka Krai.

“Anthony saw,” she said, with a whimper, pressing her face deeper into Emily’s armpit. “He told us.”

“That man’s name was Jiao Long.”

“Swift dragon,” Li Li mumbled.

“He was very swift, but he didn’t hurt me. In his own way, I think he was trying to protect me. Don’t worry.”

“Is he really gone now? Gone forever?”

How to explain what happened, to make her feel safe, and not to lie—these were bedeviling questions. Of course, she had to shield a child from the horror of what really happened, but whatever she said, it had to be consistent with whatever Li Li might learn later.

“He’s gone… for good,” she said, with an air of finality, and then looked for a way to change the subject before Li Li asked about the knife. “Now tell me what’s really bothering you. Sensei told me you don’t like sparring anymore. Is that true?”

“Boys are cheaters.”

“How do they cheat?”

“They hit harder than they’re supposed to,” Li Li said. “And Sensei doesn’t stop them, even though it’s against the rules.”

“You know how to stop them all by yourself. You don’t need Sensei’s help.”

“How?”

“Just hit them as hard as they hit you,” Emily said, even though it was a piece of advice she probably couldn’t have taken at that age. “Then they’ll be more careful.”

“But I’d be breaking the rules, too.”

The logic of Li Li’s dilemma was inescapable; Emily felt it keenly. In the end, there was no way out of it other than to bend the rules and take the matter into her own hands, or to hope someone else would solve the problem for her. Emily had no doubt which path she hoped Li Li would eventually learn to take.

“Where’s Stone? Is he hiding somewhere, too?”

“He’s playing with Anthony and Ethan in the woods.”

“Let’s go find them.”

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