Brothers in Arms

CHAPTER FOUR

The University of Baltimore had been chosen by Senator James Turner as the ideal place to host one of the most significant speeches of his whirlwind east-coast tour.

By the time Alicia arrived, the crowds were gathering and the stage was in the last phase of preparation. The atmosphere was happy, expectant, the noise a slowly mounting swell. Alicia made her way to the outskirts, a little unsure of how to proceed. The team had still not confirmed any major threat to the senator. She had volunteered to take a quick inspection as much to get her out of the office and into the field as anything. Like Drake and Mai, she was a soldier. Inactivity did more than make her stale; it blunted her predator’s edge.

She made her way to the top of a grassy knoll. The winter sun beat down, making her shield her eyes. A sea of people chattered and bobbed around before her, waving pamphlets and campaign flyers, texting friends and flicking at their iPads. The small stage in front of them was no more than a raised dais, backed by a curtain and fronted by a microphone and a couple of chairs. Senator James Turner required no luxuries. He was famous for his outspoken stance on gun control, his ties to the community and the consistency of his promises. A clever senator, and well-funded.

Alicia could see movement on and around the stage, the senator’s many aides prepping for the speech. She glanced at her watch. About twenty minutes to showtime. Not much time to get up close.

She skirted the crowd as best she could, bought a coffee from an enterprising vendor, and moved in. Any minute she expected a call from Hayden, telling her that they had verified the threat. Her faith in the team was high, and with Karin’s off-the-charts IQ, she fully expected someone to find something.

So, with only three minutes to go, Alicia dropped the half-empty coffee cup and sent a worried gaze across the crowd. Perhaps this threat wasn’t any more substantial than a thousand others Turner had no doubt received. Maybe this wasn’t the time or the place. But the security here was shambolic. Any fruitcake could take a pot shot.

She pulled out her cell and rang Hayden. “Any luck?”

“We’ve got squat at this end. How’s it lookin’ over there?”

“Busy.” Alicia said. “Dangerous.”

“Keep at it. We’re still digging.”

Despite their differences, Alicia trusted Mai’s instinct. If the Japanese woman said her old friend Dai Hibiki hadn’t been turned and was even now still providing dependable information, then Alicia believed her. She studied the stage, wondering if she should just mosey on up there and introduce herself to the guards. But that wouldn’t work. They hadn’t even been issued badges yet.

Not that Alicia wanted one. In her time she’d worked for all sides — the good, the bad, and the motherfucking ugly. This field, this situation, was a little out of her comfort zone. Her usual tactics — intimidation, assault, and taunting wouldn’t work here. She had accepted the job out of curiosity. She didn’t expect to stay long with Drake and his team. Other than Drake himself, the only other person she could identify with was Kinimaka, and he was still in recovery mode, not to mention fawning helplessly over his bloody boss. At last, she reached the barrier that separated the stage from the crowd. Little more than a row of old sawhorses, painted and hung with leaflets and bunting. Not even a low fence. Apparently, the senator was a quick, lively showman. He’d take the stage, warm the crowd up, deliver his message, and be out of there before the dust settled.

Much like most of her ex-boyfriends, she mused.

Then a cheer went up. Men in black suits took to the stage and fanned out to both sides. A couple of aides ran out, smiling and waving. The curtain twitched. People around Alicia started to shout the senator’s name. A tumult of noise greeted the man as he stepped from behind the curtain and took center stage. His aides melted away into the background, still smiling.

The senator basked for a moment before speaking. He was a tall, aging man with grey hair and a wiry frame. Dimples pitted the sides of his cheeks, giving him a cheery demeanor. He raised a hand.

“My friends, my friends, thank you. What a turnout. Even the sunshine has greeted us today!”

Alicia scrutinized the packed bodies as best she could. The sway of the crowd and the excitement of those in the front few rows made it next to impossible to make any kind of judgment. Maybe today wouldn’t be the day…

But the timing of Hibiki’s message was disquieting. Why would the Koreans target such a low-key figure anyway? She shrugged it off, briefly wondering how Drake and the sprite were faring. Lucky bastards.

The senator droned on to continued applause. If this was the kind of fieldwork the new team was all about, she couldn’t see herself lasting long. Her feet itched to chase someone. Her fingers kept reaching for a gun that wasn’t there. It had been said before, but the problem with a “secret” agency was that no one knew it existed.

Ironic, eh? She smiled to herself. But when the first shot was fired, she glanced instinctively to her right. The crowd quieted and ducked their heads. The second shot galvanized them to either hit the deck or bolt. On stage the security detail stormed forward, trying to cover the senator. The man himself stood in shock, mouth agape, as if trying to stare his would-be assassin into submission.

Another shot. Another miss, but this time, one of the aides went down, clutching her neck as blood sprayed. All around Alicia there was suddenly a terrible uproar and she was jostled and knocked and almost tripped to the ground.

But she had seen the shooter. In those frozen seconds, she had studied his face and stance and manner.

It just didn’t make sense.

By now, the senator had been wrestled to the floor and the security detail was leaping from the stage and rushing toward the shooter. Alicia maintained her ground, watching it unfold. The man with the gun was the most normal, all-American looking guy she’d ever seen. He was clean, well-dressed and well-groomed. The way he held the gun spoke of training, but the way he conducted himself spoke of something else all together.

His eyes were blank. His movements slow as if he struggled through thick molasses. His mouth hung slackly. Even from where she stood, Alicia could see a string of drool hanging from his lips. The guy looked like a zombie. A real-life, bona-fide member of the living dead.

And as the bodyguards closed in, the shooter slowly turned the gun around, aiming it at his own heart. Without a second’s hesitation, he pulled the trigger and fell to the ground.

Alicia raced toward him, wrestling her cellphone out and appraising the situation on the stage as she ran. Two guards down. The aide down, not moving. And a shaken senator, happy to be alive and nestled underneath his security detail.

Hayden answered immediately. “What happened?”

“I’ve been doin’ this a long time,” Alicia shouted as she ran. “But I just saw some of the craziest shit ever go down. You’d best prepare for a storm.”