The Operator
Page 54
“Those were good people,” Harmony said, her grip on the wheel white-knuckle tight. “He took everything from them, everything they had, everything they would have: days, years, births, promotions. I survived because I was a woman and that bastard saved me for last. Like dessert.”
“Fair enough,” Peri said, wishing she’d stop talking. Too many emotions were trying to surface, making her ill with fractured memories.
“Besides, with me losing my team, my glass ceiling just turned into cement. Steiner might forget about it if I come back with Michael.” Harmony reached for her purse, clearly not sure she believed it herself. “I don’t care if you forget. People forget battle trauma all the time.”
Peri didn’t know what to think about that, so she muttered a soft “Thanks. You need to run in for ammo?” Her gaze went to the big-box store, wondering whether that’s why they’d parked there, but Harmony chuckled and unlocked her door.
“I’m not taking my car into the arena. We walk from here.”
Walk? Through the arena? At night when there’s a perfectly good car? But then again, taking a car into what was supposed to be an abandoned area would get them noticed, too. Not liking either option, Peri looked out the front window across the weed-choked railroad tracks to the low cluster of boarded-up commercial buildings. Behind them was even more dilapidated, unlit, and condemned low-rent temporary housing originally built to get the homeless and displaced off Detroit’s streets before reconstruction had begun. None of it had been intended to last more than a decade, but not everyone had left when new housing had been built.
Calling it the arena had been the cops’ idea. The concept was good, but it hadn’t gone well, and the mostly deserted area had become a haven for drugs, prostitution, and gangs. Every electoral year there was a push to get it cleaned up, but the way the cops figured it, if all the bad apples were in one basket, it was easier to catch those trying to sample the fruit. Cops seldom came into the area, and never at night unless they were in well-armed packs with high-Q drones and riot gear.
“It’s bad enough leaving Steiner’s car here,” Harmony muttered, brow furrowed as she took her wallet and phone out of her purse before shoving it under the seat. Peri couldn’t help but notice there were three missed calls, all of them from Steiner. “Hand me up the duffel, will you?”
“Sure,” Peri said, reaching into the back for it.
Harmony unzipped it, making a small sound of satisfaction as she took out her Glock and tucked it into her shoulder holster under her open coat. “What do you think?” she asked. “Big enough to be seen and envied, but not so much that it looks as if I’m looking for a fight?”
“I’ll stick with my knife if you don’t mind.” It was doubtful the car would be entirely intact when they returned, so Peri stuffed her pockets and belt pack with everything she wanted to keep. Her diary was going to be a problem, new pages leaking out every time she opened it.
“I do,” Harmony insisted. “Be a woman. Take the Glock. That’s why I brought it.”
Nodding, Peri took the semiautomatic pistol with a quick-change ammo clip. “Guns aren’t my go-to,” she said as she zipped it into her belt pack, snuggling it at the small of her back. “They have a tendency to kill me, and then I have to draft and fix it,” she added, smoothing her journal out before dropping it into her coat pocket. It was lumpy, but leaving it in the car wasn’t an option.
Harmony tucked a second ammo clip behind her shirt, shuddering when the cold hit her. “I’d do anything for a reset button. So I’d forget. Some things, I don’t want to remember.”
Mulling that over, Peri shifted her belt pack until the extra weight felt natural. “You sure you want to do this with me?”
“The arena?” Harmony opened her door, the cold night slipping in as she got out. “Two women? After dark?” Looking at the abandoned buildings, she adjusted her holster to make sure it was visible past her coat. “Bring it on.”
Peri’s faint smile grew as the unusual feeling of kinship drifted through her. Stretching the stiff hours from her, Peri got out as well, carefully shutting her door so the sound wouldn’t carry. The cold woke her up fast. Two inches of new snow crunched underfoot, but it would likely be gone by noon.
Peri fell into place beside Harmony, thinking they should’ve left the car unlocked so the thieves wouldn’t have to break a window to get in. “You don’t have another set of keys, do you?” she asked as they cut across the parking lot, their path obvious in the snow.
“No. Why?”
They slowed as they hit the shadows, waiting for their eyes to adjust. “I, ah, usually have a set,” she said, sorry now she’d brought it up. “Never mind.”
“No, I should have thought of it,” Harmony said. “Sorry. You want to carry them?”
“Good God, no,” Peri rushed, glad the darkness hid her face. Their twined voices echoed off the empty shop fronts, reminding her of the women in Africa who walk unafraid through lion-infested brush, talking loudly to warn the huge carnivores away. It worked only because the cats had been conditioned to be afraid. Here, though, she thought as they passed the broken windows, the lions aren’t afraid.
“You’ve done something like this before,” Peri said, making it more of a statement.
“Something like it.”
Her voice had become distant. Clearly Harmony didn’t want to talk about it. But the sound of their boots in the unplowed street was giving Peri the creeps. She kept scanning the rooftops for silhouettes, but nothing broke the cold sterility except solar arrays and outdated satellite dishes. “That was impressive how you got us out of the St. Louis facility. But why spend that much effort on being stealthy when you’re so good at offense?”
Harmony’s teeth caught the light as she smiled. “The best offense is not being there to take the hit.” Her smile faded. “And I don’t have a golden parachute to get me around one.”
The woman’s annoyance was obvious, and Peri frowned. “Why are you mad at me about that? It would be like me being angry because you’re black and can dance better than me.”
“Excuse me?” Harmony blurted.
“Sorry,” Peri said immediately. “That was supposed to be funny.”
“Fair enough,” Peri said, wishing she’d stop talking. Too many emotions were trying to surface, making her ill with fractured memories.
“Besides, with me losing my team, my glass ceiling just turned into cement. Steiner might forget about it if I come back with Michael.” Harmony reached for her purse, clearly not sure she believed it herself. “I don’t care if you forget. People forget battle trauma all the time.”
Peri didn’t know what to think about that, so she muttered a soft “Thanks. You need to run in for ammo?” Her gaze went to the big-box store, wondering whether that’s why they’d parked there, but Harmony chuckled and unlocked her door.
“I’m not taking my car into the arena. We walk from here.”
Walk? Through the arena? At night when there’s a perfectly good car? But then again, taking a car into what was supposed to be an abandoned area would get them noticed, too. Not liking either option, Peri looked out the front window across the weed-choked railroad tracks to the low cluster of boarded-up commercial buildings. Behind them was even more dilapidated, unlit, and condemned low-rent temporary housing originally built to get the homeless and displaced off Detroit’s streets before reconstruction had begun. None of it had been intended to last more than a decade, but not everyone had left when new housing had been built.
Calling it the arena had been the cops’ idea. The concept was good, but it hadn’t gone well, and the mostly deserted area had become a haven for drugs, prostitution, and gangs. Every electoral year there was a push to get it cleaned up, but the way the cops figured it, if all the bad apples were in one basket, it was easier to catch those trying to sample the fruit. Cops seldom came into the area, and never at night unless they were in well-armed packs with high-Q drones and riot gear.
“It’s bad enough leaving Steiner’s car here,” Harmony muttered, brow furrowed as she took her wallet and phone out of her purse before shoving it under the seat. Peri couldn’t help but notice there were three missed calls, all of them from Steiner. “Hand me up the duffel, will you?”
“Sure,” Peri said, reaching into the back for it.
Harmony unzipped it, making a small sound of satisfaction as she took out her Glock and tucked it into her shoulder holster under her open coat. “What do you think?” she asked. “Big enough to be seen and envied, but not so much that it looks as if I’m looking for a fight?”
“I’ll stick with my knife if you don’t mind.” It was doubtful the car would be entirely intact when they returned, so Peri stuffed her pockets and belt pack with everything she wanted to keep. Her diary was going to be a problem, new pages leaking out every time she opened it.
“I do,” Harmony insisted. “Be a woman. Take the Glock. That’s why I brought it.”
Nodding, Peri took the semiautomatic pistol with a quick-change ammo clip. “Guns aren’t my go-to,” she said as she zipped it into her belt pack, snuggling it at the small of her back. “They have a tendency to kill me, and then I have to draft and fix it,” she added, smoothing her journal out before dropping it into her coat pocket. It was lumpy, but leaving it in the car wasn’t an option.
Harmony tucked a second ammo clip behind her shirt, shuddering when the cold hit her. “I’d do anything for a reset button. So I’d forget. Some things, I don’t want to remember.”
Mulling that over, Peri shifted her belt pack until the extra weight felt natural. “You sure you want to do this with me?”
“The arena?” Harmony opened her door, the cold night slipping in as she got out. “Two women? After dark?” Looking at the abandoned buildings, she adjusted her holster to make sure it was visible past her coat. “Bring it on.”
Peri’s faint smile grew as the unusual feeling of kinship drifted through her. Stretching the stiff hours from her, Peri got out as well, carefully shutting her door so the sound wouldn’t carry. The cold woke her up fast. Two inches of new snow crunched underfoot, but it would likely be gone by noon.
Peri fell into place beside Harmony, thinking they should’ve left the car unlocked so the thieves wouldn’t have to break a window to get in. “You don’t have another set of keys, do you?” she asked as they cut across the parking lot, their path obvious in the snow.
“No. Why?”
They slowed as they hit the shadows, waiting for their eyes to adjust. “I, ah, usually have a set,” she said, sorry now she’d brought it up. “Never mind.”
“No, I should have thought of it,” Harmony said. “Sorry. You want to carry them?”
“Good God, no,” Peri rushed, glad the darkness hid her face. Their twined voices echoed off the empty shop fronts, reminding her of the women in Africa who walk unafraid through lion-infested brush, talking loudly to warn the huge carnivores away. It worked only because the cats had been conditioned to be afraid. Here, though, she thought as they passed the broken windows, the lions aren’t afraid.
“You’ve done something like this before,” Peri said, making it more of a statement.
“Something like it.”
Her voice had become distant. Clearly Harmony didn’t want to talk about it. But the sound of their boots in the unplowed street was giving Peri the creeps. She kept scanning the rooftops for silhouettes, but nothing broke the cold sterility except solar arrays and outdated satellite dishes. “That was impressive how you got us out of the St. Louis facility. But why spend that much effort on being stealthy when you’re so good at offense?”
Harmony’s teeth caught the light as she smiled. “The best offense is not being there to take the hit.” Her smile faded. “And I don’t have a golden parachute to get me around one.”
The woman’s annoyance was obvious, and Peri frowned. “Why are you mad at me about that? It would be like me being angry because you’re black and can dance better than me.”
“Excuse me?” Harmony blurted.
“Sorry,” Peri said immediately. “That was supposed to be funny.”
