You were supposed to block first, then step, and this defense was supposed to be a move to the outside of the attacker.
Instead, Michaels, rattled, blocked and stepped to the inside of Toni’s leading foot. In theory, as she’d said, it didn’t matter, since anything that worked was the point.
His right thigh slid between Toni’s legs and pressed against her pubis. His concentration on protecting himself just kind of… evaporated. He’d blocked the punch, but now he just stood there. He didn’t follow up. He was very much aware of the warmth of her crotch astraddle his thigh, even through two sets of sweatpants.
Damn!
“Alex?” “Sorry, I drew a blank.” Quickly, Michaels stepped back. He’d nearly been killed by that assassin a couple of months ago; if it hadn’t been for Toni, the killer would have gotten him, and it had seemed a good idea to learn more about how to protect himself, but right now this intimate martial contact with Toni might be bringing up more problems than it solved. It certainly was bringing up one problem in particular he could do without– “Hey, Boss?” Michaels shook off the erotic thoughts. Jay Gridley stood near the gym’s entrance, looking at the two of them. The younger man was grinning.
“Jay. What’s up?” “You said you wanted to hear about that Louisiana thing as soon as it came in. I just downloaded the packet from the field team in Baton Rouge, got vid and reports. It’s nagged in your incoming files.” Michaels nodded.
“Thanks, Jay.” He looked at Toni.
“I need to check that out.” “We can pick up where we left off Monday,” she said.
“Unless you’re working tomorrow?” “I wish. I was hoping to work on the car, but I’ve got to bone up on financial stuff. I’m supposed to appear before Senator White’s committee on Tuesday.” “You get all the fun,” Toni said.
“Don’t I just?” They bowed to each other, the intricate silat beginning and ending salute, and Michaels headed for the dressing room.
Sheldon Gaynel Worsham was sixteen years old, a student at New Istrouma High School. He looked about twelve, was thin, and had black, oily hair sucked down all over, save for a wavy lock that dangled greasily over his left eye. He wore blue parachute pants and a black T-shirt with a putrid-green pulse paint logo. The logo was a stylized badge with the word “GeeterBeeter” in jagged letters across it. Whatever that meant.
The kid slouched in a cheap chair next to a heavy cast plast table that was scratched and battered by years of abuse. Somebody had carved a heart with initials inside it on one corner, some thing of a surprise, since this was obviously a room where knives or other sharp objects were generally forbidden.
The man seated across the table from Worsham was heavyset, florid-faced, in a cheap, dark business suit, and he might as well have had “cop” flashing in neon over his head.
“So tell me about this bomb,” the cop said.
Worsham nodded.
“Yeah, okay, okay. So we’re not talking semtex or C4 or crap like that, we’re talking RQX-71, a topsecret chemical used in conventional missile warheads. It’s an analog of some old stuff called PBX-9501. You want to know about an isotropic elastics or isotropic polymerics? Expansion rates or like that?” “Why don’t we just skip over that for now,” the cop said.
“Where did you get it, this explosive?” The kid grinned.
“I made it in the chem lab. Swiped a keycard from the janitor’s desk and duped it, got the alarm codes, snuck in at night.
Only took a week. Got a little tricky at one point, I thought I was gonna blow myself up, but it worked out okay.” “You made it. And took down a brand-new, three-story, steel-framed addition to the capitol with it.” The kid grinned wider.
“Yeah. Something, huh?” Worsham sat up straighter in the plastic chair.
“And that blast killed a woman guard working her way through college.” “Yeah, well, I’m sorry about that part, but it’s not really my fault. The coozers shouldn’t have fired my dad, you pross?” “Your father worked on the construction of the building.” ” “Until the stupid coozers fired him, yeah. I wanted to make a point, you pross?” The cop nodded.
“I guess you did that.” He shifted in his chair. The thin plastic squeaked in protest.
“And how did you happen to come up with the top-secret formula for this– RAQ?” “RQX-71.” Now the kid favored the cop with his biggest grin yet.
“That was the easy part. I scarfed it off the net.” Michaels leaned back in the conference room chair and glanced at Toni and Jay Gridley.
Gridley touched a control and the holoproj of the interrogation faded.
“Full of remorse about killing that young woman, isn’t he?” Michaels said.
“Kids don’t relate to death,” Jay said.
“Too much entcom, too many vids, too much VR slaughter-rooming.” Toni said, “And the formula?” “Just like the little bastard said,” Jay said.
“Right in the middle of a public net room. We pulled it as soon as we found it, but it was posted anonymously. We’re trying to back walk it, but it looks like it came from a re caster somewhere.” “Who would do such a thing? Why?” Toni said.
“And how did they get the formula to do it?” Michaels added.
Jay shrugged. He tapped at the portable and the image of the destroyed building shimmered and came up on the holoproj.
It basically looked like a pile of concrete and metal rubble, beams sticking out, shards of glass glittering under the searchlights, and smoke still coming from sections of it.
“Jesus,” Toni said.
“Yeah,” Michaels said.
“Only this one is in our lap and not His.
We’ve got to find whoever is responsible for putting this formula onto the net where our sociopathic teener could find it.” “According to the counter, there were more than nine hundred hits on that file before we cleaned it off,” Jay said.
“We better hope nobody else who downloaded that formula has a grudge against somebody.” Michaels shook his head. Nine hundred hits.
Nine hundred chances for someone to try to concoct this stuff. Nine hundred chances for someone to succeed, and take out a building like that Worsham kid or–and this was maybe even worse–blow themselves and a whole school full of kids up in the process.
What kind of scum would do some thing like this? The Worsham boy was obviously bent, missing a few key neurons in his brain, but whoever posted the formula for the explosive was really sick. They needed to find him fast.
And Christmas was also fast approaching. The holidays would slow things around here to a craw), and he had to go back to Idaho to see his daughter, Susie. And his ex-wife, Megan, too. A prospect that brought forth mixed emotions in Michaels, to be sure. At eight, Susie was the brightest spot in his life, but it was a long way from Washington. D.c.” to Boise, and he didn’t see her nearly as much as he wanted to.
And Megan? Well, that was another whole can of worms that didn’t bear opening just at this moment. The divorce had been final for more than a year, and if she called and asked him to come home right now.
Up until recently, there hadn’t been any question, he’d go. But the torch he’d been carrying had dimmed a little when he’d found out Megan was dating somebody.
Being with another man. Enjoying it.
“Alex?” He looked at Toni.
“Sorry, I slipped into the void. What?” “Joanna Winthrop is coming in at two-thirty.” Gridley snorted.
“Lightweight Lite? What’s she want?” “Lieutenant Winthrop is going to be assisting us on this matter,” Michaels said.
“Colonel Howard has graciously allowed us to borrow her from the field.
In fact, she will be working with you.” “What? I don’t need her. Boss.” Jay said.
“I can run this dweebo to ground without some airhead sim-bimbo–” “Jay.” Michaels’s tone was sharp.
“Sorry, Boss. But she’s only gonna get in the way.” “As I recall, her grade-point average was higher than yours straight across the board,” Toni said.
“Sure, where she went to school.” “MIT, wasn’t it?” “Yes, ma’am, but their standards have gone way down. MIT-IS acme now.” Alex just shook his head and said, “Jay, whatever your differences with Lieutenant Winthrop, you’ll just have to find a way to get past them. We need all the help we can get on this mess.” He waved at the holoproj.
Gridley nodded, but his jaw muscles flexed as he gritted his teeth.
Great, Michaels thought, one more brick on the load I don’t need. A computer prima donna jealous of his territory. Just great.
His temporary secretary came into the conference room.
“Commander, I have Director Carver on the phone.” Michaels stood.
“I’ll take it in my office.” He waved at Jay and Toni.