***
Chapter 4
Washington D.C.
Cass Elkins stepped
off the private jet and wrinkled her nose at the unmistakable odor of a city.
The smell of too many people crammed together like cattle. More like sheep
actually, cattle had more spirit. She hoped that she wouldn't have to be here
long. Too much time in a place as populated as D.C. tended to fray her nerves,
resulting in attitude that made her normal, less than accommodating personality
seem rather pleasant in comparison. Not
that she cared, but anybody unfortunate enough to bother her would.
The sun was dimmer
than she was used to, but it was bright enough to make the man standing on the
tarmac squint and shade his eyes with his hand. Cass figured him right off for a
government employee. He was wearing one
of those nondescript suits with a bland tie, dress shoes, and no hat. Cass always found it strange how people would
rather burn their face and shade their eyes than wear a decent hat. Go figure.
When they were
making the arrangements for Cass to travel to Washington, Alan Dobbs had
recommended that she wear a suit in order to better blend in the city. She had
taken his advice and wore her best black suit. His definition of suit and her
definition turned out to be a bit different.
Cass owned a nice, black leather suit coat. She wore it to church, funerals, weddings and
other functions that called for formal attire.
She had a fine, dark gray, button-up shirt which she wore with the top
couple of buttons undone so that her necklace could be seen. She had made the necklace herself, for she
rarely if ever found any bought jewelry that she liked. Most of it was flowers or hearts or something
else she didn't care for. Around her neck
was a plain black leather cord with a beautifully expanded, silver colored, .44
caliber, hollow-point bullet hung on it.
She had recovered the bullet from the ground after she had blown a large
diamondback rattlesnake in two with her Eagle.
It was one of a kind.
She appreciated
Dobbs sentiment that she should try to fit-in in Washington, but she knew that
no matter what she wore she would stand out. Her purposeful stride and
confident look marked her as much as the black hat, boots, and dark blue jeans
that she wore.
As she approached
the man, Cass could see the subtle bulge under his right shoulder. Cass may
have been annoyed that she was going un-heeled, but she was far from
helpless. She had been told to leave her
guns at home since handgun possession by private citizens in D.C. was frowned
upon if not outright outlawed. No wonder they had such a high murder rate. The
only people that bothered to abide by the wishes of the government were
law-abiding citizens. The criminals don't have any problem breaking the law to
murder someone. Why should they pay attention to any other laws?
“Looking for me,
mister?” asked Cass.
The man looked
around questioningly for a moment before replying, “I'm not sure. Are you C. Elkins?”
“I reckon so.
Didn't see anybody else get off the plane. I thought ya'll were expecting me.”
“Yes. I was just
expecting someone, ah, older and more, um, never mind. I'm Justin Wallace and I
was instructed to drive you to your hotel.”
Cass laughed mildly
and said, “I understand. You weren't expecting a girl. I'm a bit disappointed,
but I can't say I'm surprised. I'm used to it.
I wouldn’t expect one either.”
Wallace didn't know how to respond so he just
pointed to a dark sedan with government plates that was parked nearby and said,
“This way.”
The drive from the
airstrip to the hotel was relatively uneventful. Cass spent most of the trip
looking out the windows at the landmarks. She had been around a fair bit, but
this was her first time in D.C. She might not go out of her way to find populated
areas, but she always found big cities interesting-- for a short time.
They arrived at the
hotel. She checked in and started for her room. Wallace offered to escort her
upstairs. “You should be relatively secure here, but D.C. is a dangerous place,
especially for a nice young lady by herself.”
Cass just looked at
him and grinned. He was obviously in the
dark about her. Either that or he didn't
believe she was competent. “I appreciate
your concern, Mr. Wallace, but I can take care of myself. If some unsuspecting
lowlife mistakes me for a nice young girl, that is to say, a likely victim,
he'll find out that even though I may be young and I might be a girl, I ain't
all that nice.”
“Miss Elkins, I
still don't think it would be wise for you to wander around by yourself.”
Cass didn't
appreciate anyone telling her what to do. “So, you’re gonna protect me then? What makes you think you can do better? Are you referring to the gun under your
coat? What is it, a Glock, a Sig? A forty-five, a nine mill?” asked Cass as she
stepped closer to Wallace until she stood within arm’s reach in front of
him. He was beginning to annoy her. Usually she would have let it pass, being an
even-tempered person, but today she had a reason to get a reaction out of him. She wanted to know more about the whole
situation and sometimes the most efficient way to gain info about something was
to force a reaction. Most people showed
their true stripes when pushed. Besides,
it had been a long flight and she was spoiling for a confrontation. She innocently asked Wallace, “Tell me, are
you considered to be a well-trained and competent agent?”
Wallace looked
indignant and he quickly answered, “Of course I'm competent. I wouldn't be here
if I wasn't. And I'll have you know that I carry a Glock 19.”
“I see. Then how
come you just let me kill you?”
“What are you
talking about?” cried the obviously confused Wallace.
“I've been standing
close enough to you to kill you half a dozen different ways since we started
talking.”
“I let you approach
because you are not an enemy or an unknown,” said Wallace defensively.
“That was stupid.
You don't know me. I might not be who a say I am. You obviously didn't have a
description of me back at the airstrip. You wouldn't have been so surprised. I
gotta say, so far you guys ain't impressing me very much.”
“I am still better
armed. I have a gun and you don't.”
Cass laughed
incredulously, “You want me to prove it?
Fine. Go for your gun and see if you can get it out before I can get
you.”
“I don't know,” said
Wallace, “We're in public.”
Cass was beginning
to enjoy herself. She continued to goad Wallace. “Come on. Don't worry about anybody seeing.
There's no civilians here except me. Come on. You afraid of a girl? Tell you what, if you're fast enough, I'll
take your advice. If I win, you quit telling me what I can and can't do. Deal?”
“Okay, you asked
for it. Ready?”
“Whenever you are.
You go first.”
They stood facing
each other. Cass stood calmly with her arms at her sides, waiting for Wallace
to make his move. “I'm waiting,” she drawled.
Suddenly, Wallace
tensed and his right arm pulled his jacket back to expose his Glock while his
left hand reached for the gun. At least that was what he tried to do. Even
though his right arm moved first, as soon as he moved, Cass grabbed his left
arm with her right. She had noted earlier that he was left-handed and so she
knew which hand to be concerned with.
Meanwhile, her left hand hardened into an arc and accelerated quickly
towards Wallace's exposed throat, stopping only a thousandth of an inch from
his neck.
She stood there for
a moment. Wallace stood frozen. Staring into his eyes, she could see the fear.
That was good. Somebody once told her
that the difference between fear and respect was small enough that one was a
good substitute for the other. He
nervously eyed the hand which had stopped a fraction of an inch from crushing
his throat.
He croaked, “You
win.”
Still grinning
maliciously, Cass released him.
He took a step back
and straightened his disheveled suit. “You were just lucky,” he stated with
fake bravado, more to himself than anybody. He didn't want to admit that it had
shaken him. She had moved so quickly, without hesitation, and smiled the whole
time. He had been in serious situations before, but something he had seen in
her blue eyes unsettled him.
“Just keep telling
yourself that, if it makes you feel better, bub. Now get along, I've got bigger
fish to fry.”
Cass turned around
to see a short wiry man with close-cropped, graying hair, dressed in a nondescript
suit, step out of the shadows and begin clapping slowly. About time.
“Not bad. Not bad.
You're even better in person, Miss Elkins. I can also see why Mr. Dobbs thought
you a bit blunt. Do you test everyone you meet this way?”
Cass laughed, “Only
when I've got an audience.”
“You knew I was
here? I'm impressed. I must be losing my
touch.”
“I don't know about
that, mister. I thought you were pretty good. But I've always been good at
knowing when somebody was around. Comes from living in the boonies I guess. I
notice people.”
“Curious,” said the
mysterious man. “Let's go some place more private and we'll discuss the matter
of you working for us. Are you hungry?”
“Always,” said Cass.
“Excellent. We'll
have dinner. Wallace will pick you up in an hour.”
Cass watched
critically as the man casually walked out of the room. His outward appearance
had been regular in every way, but to her eye, his walk gave him away.
Confident, relaxed, balanced, smooth, a predator amongst the unsuspecting prey.
A man to be feared by most and respected by those like him.
Cass wasn't afraid.
