Gunny brought them to a halt as Inspector Johnson got out from the driver’s side. No chauffeur today… or maybe just at this hour.
Kris broke ranks to trot up and join the inspector. Jack and Captain DeVar hung back in easy hearing and close support.
“Didn’t expect to see you this early,” Kris said to break the ice of the hard glare the cop was giving the Marines.
“I got a wake-up call from the Sanitation Division. Someone asking if the mall was being invaded. I suspected I knew where the invasion came from.” He opened his arms as if in surprise. “Here I am and here you are. And you and you,” he said, nodding toward Jack and the captain.
“May I dismiss the troops, Your Highness?” DeVar asked.
“ Please do,” the inspector said.
“Kindly do,” Kris said, and quickly, quietly, it was so.
Jack and Penny took guard around Kris, checking out the building roofs, streets, and any other potential site where death might reach for her. The Marines in battle dress raced off, but didn’t leave her unprotected for long. A minute hadn’t gone by before two marines in khaki double-timed from the embassy. The apparent duty team on sensors were followed only moments later by one Marine hobbling on crutches as quickly as he could, his left foot in a cast, him in a hurriedly donned sweatsuit.
That was when it hit Kris. She’d been adopted into the Marine Corps family. They had made her one of their own. It sent a shiver down her spine. And stiffened it, too. These men and women would lay down their lives for her.
Of course, the unspoken contract flowed both ways. Loyalty went up and down or it didn’t go at all. As unlikely as it might seem to some, she now owed her life to them. A stranger to the uniform might not see much prospect for Kris to pay the full price for one of these privates or NCOs.
Kris knew differently. A solemn vow now bound each of them equally.
And that was the only way it could be. One for all. All of them for each other when the mouth of hell was yawning and the piper demanded his pay.
Kris found herself standing a little taller, her back a bit more ramrod, as Gunny would expect of her, even as she passed the time of day with Inspector Johnson.
If he was aware of the change that came over the woman in front of him, he certainly showed no evidence of it.
“Did you bring over my weapons permit?” had been Kris’s first gambit.
“Not my job description,” the inspector said. Then paused, as if debating whether or not to say more. Kris held him hostage with her eyes. She’d learned at her father’s knee that a good politician could often get confessions, concessions, or even extra campaign donations if they just didn’t break eye contact.
And unlike other forms of hostage taking, holding someone’s eyes against their will was not an indictable offense.
No surprise, it worked in the soft morning light.
“Some of my associates in the police force, maybe other places, are wondering if maybe we shouldn’t withhold the permit. Some think it might encourage you to go on your way.”
Staying in this shooting gallery with no weapon! She couldn’t go on carrying without a permit; sooner or later folks would get tired of her and hers flouting their gun control laws. If they started frisking her every time she left the embassy…
“I would have thought that whoever didn’t drive by that roadside bomb we stumbled over yesterday would be oh so happy that I’d get a permit for my reward.” She tried batting her eyelashes along with the words. In the movies, it always worked. No doubt, it would work for Victoria Peterwald.
Kris also tried her ace in the hole. N ELLY, DO WE KNOW THE NAME OF WHOEVER IT WAS WE SAVED?
N O, KRIS. I AM STILL WORKING ON THAT. I T IS FAR MORE COMPLICATED THAN YOU WOULD BELIEVE. C AN I BRIEF YOU NOW? I T WILL BE A LONG ONE.
L ATER , Kris said. Nelly wasn’t helping her, and clearly her experiment in feminine wiles hadn’t worked, either.
The
Kris broke ranks to trot up and join the inspector. Jack and Captain DeVar hung back in easy hearing and close support.
“Didn’t expect to see you this early,” Kris said to break the ice of the hard glare the cop was giving the Marines.
“I got a wake-up call from the Sanitation Division. Someone asking if the mall was being invaded. I suspected I knew where the invasion came from.” He opened his arms as if in surprise. “Here I am and here you are. And you and you,” he said, nodding toward Jack and the captain.
“May I dismiss the troops, Your Highness?” DeVar asked.
“ Please do,” the inspector said.
“Kindly do,” Kris said, and quickly, quietly, it was so.
Jack and Penny took guard around Kris, checking out the building roofs, streets, and any other potential site where death might reach for her. The Marines in battle dress raced off, but didn’t leave her unprotected for long. A minute hadn’t gone by before two marines in khaki double-timed from the embassy. The apparent duty team on sensors were followed only moments later by one Marine hobbling on crutches as quickly as he could, his left foot in a cast, him in a hurriedly donned sweatsuit.
That was when it hit Kris. She’d been adopted into the Marine Corps family. They had made her one of their own. It sent a shiver down her spine. And stiffened it, too. These men and women would lay down their lives for her.
Of course, the unspoken contract flowed both ways. Loyalty went up and down or it didn’t go at all. As unlikely as it might seem to some, she now owed her life to them. A stranger to the uniform might not see much prospect for Kris to pay the full price for one of these privates or NCOs.
Kris knew differently. A solemn vow now bound each of them equally.
And that was the only way it could be. One for all. All of them for each other when the mouth of hell was yawning and the piper demanded his pay.
Kris found herself standing a little taller, her back a bit more ramrod, as Gunny would expect of her, even as she passed the time of day with Inspector Johnson.
If he was aware of the change that came over the woman in front of him, he certainly showed no evidence of it.
“Did you bring over my weapons permit?” had been Kris’s first gambit.
“Not my job description,” the inspector said. Then paused, as if debating whether or not to say more. Kris held him hostage with her eyes. She’d learned at her father’s knee that a good politician could often get confessions, concessions, or even extra campaign donations if they just didn’t break eye contact.
And unlike other forms of hostage taking, holding someone’s eyes against their will was not an indictable offense.
No surprise, it worked in the soft morning light.
“Some of my associates in the police force, maybe other places, are wondering if maybe we shouldn’t withhold the permit. Some think it might encourage you to go on your way.”
Staying in this shooting gallery with no weapon! She couldn’t go on carrying without a permit; sooner or later folks would get tired of her and hers flouting their gun control laws. If they started frisking her every time she left the embassy…
“I would have thought that whoever didn’t drive by that roadside bomb we stumbled over yesterday would be oh so happy that I’d get a permit for my reward.” She tried batting her eyelashes along with the words. In the movies, it always worked. No doubt, it would work for Victoria Peterwald.
Kris also tried her ace in the hole. N ELLY, DO WE KNOW THE NAME OF WHOEVER IT WAS WE SAVED?
N O, KRIS. I AM STILL WORKING ON THAT. I T IS FAR MORE COMPLICATED THAN YOU WOULD BELIEVE. C AN I BRIEF YOU NOW? I T WILL BE A LONG ONE.
L ATER , Kris said. Nelly wasn’t helping her, and clearly her experiment in feminine wiles hadn’t worked, either.
The
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