Mina Cortez: From Bouquets to Bullets Page 3

  This quite obviously caught the woman off-guard, and Mina had to wonder just how much work the woman had done with her parents, or how much time she'd put in studying this new area of her portfolio. She wasn't even sure why she'd asked the question, aside from just feeling that something was off, while unable to put her finger on what.

  Regardless, the hint of confusion didn't last long. “Your parents' restoration work is impressive. I understand that the work done, so far, is only the beginning, though?”

  “That's right, the work with the city is budgeted for at least the next five years. Dad is working with Dr. Kimura a lot on sketching out the next steps, while my mom keeps the rest of the shop business running.”

  “The city certainly appreciates having such a prominent archaeologist on the job. And what part of the business are you expecting to keep you busier if you work there?” the Deputy Mayor asked, shifting focus back to Mina.

  “Deliveries, orders, and inventory, mostly,” Mina said with a shrug, trying to keep her face and body language neutral. She appreciated the courtesy of the 'if,' at least. Unlike her father, somebody remembered not to assume.

  “Ahhh, yes. I suppose those would need to be handled to keep the shop running. Good experience early on.”

  “Yes, ma'am. Got to get to know all parts of the business, and hopefully we'll still be working with the city when that time comes,” she responded without any real enthusiasm.

  “We can hope so. It's been a pleasure talking to you, Mina, but I should let you get back to your friends. This is a party, after all,” the woman said, sounding genuine. Mina was left as confused as when the conversation started as to why the Deputy Mayor had wanted to talk to her in the first place.

  After shaking hands with the Deputy Mayor, Mina went back to Scott and Miko, who were discussing video games as she sat back down. The conversation quickly shifted. “So what was that all about?” Miko asked.

  “No clue,” Mina answered, reaching for more pizza. “She asked me about the shop and my chipping date. She didn't seem to know much about any of the stuff we're doing.”

  “Yeah, Mom and Dad were saying it was odd,” Scott said. “She suddenly added the Parks and Rec stuff to her workload, but just has some secretary attend the meetings for her and take notes.”

  “So, just something that got assigned to her, maybe?” Mina asked. “She certainly knew about me. She knew I was going in for a chipping consultation next week. She knew about the Bolshoi. Just felt a little weird.”

  “Could have been,” Scott agreed. “That is kind of weird.”

  “So who was the huge guy staring at you two?” Miko asked.

  “That's her bodyguard,” Scott contributed. “Thanks to Miss Lasko's real passion. You know all those 'tough on crime' initiatives, and the big push on organized crime and getting rid of the smuggling and black-market chips into the city? Those are her babies. Those meetings she's never missed. The policeman's ball, either.” Catching the glances from the others, he shrugged. “That's where I first met her, back when Mom was still on a couple of those fundraising committees and doing that neighborhood watch thing,” he said between mouthfuls. “Everyone involved in city politics knows her. She's been at the job forever.”

  “Which is why she needs the hardcore bodyguard. Those politicians are vicious,” Miko added with a grin, glancing out into the crowd again. “Bet the guy was packing heat. He had krav maga and tae kwon do, at least, chipped in.”

  “He was,” Mina assured on the first, then raised a brow. “And just how would you know that?”

  Miko grinned, dropping her voice as low as she could, managing to add a bit of gravel to it in an attempt at an impression. “It's a very distinctive stance.”

  Scott and Mina glanced at each other for hints of recognition, then just shook their heads.

  “You guys are hopeless,” Miko teased, before digging back into her pizza.

  * * * *

  The next few days were a blur of activity. Between some combination of whatever things he needed to sign, the chipping surgery itself, recovery time, and training, Mina didn't hear from Scott again after the party. She saw Miko at school, but otherwise most of her time was divided between work, sleep, and more work.

  Mina's parents were clearly trying to make her feel more included and familiar with the business. Her father showed her layouts for park landscaping; her mother explained relations with the farms and gardens that provided supplies and inventory. Even still unchipped, Mina was handed more responsibility to arrange small orders to free up her mother to help with park work when not handling weddings, funerals, and other large-scale occasions. As expected, however, most of Mina's time was spent running deliveries. She got to use the van for bigger orders more often, but a lot of time was still spent on her bike, with three or four jobs at a time.

  The end of the week neared, and her consultation loomed. She might almost have looked forward to the impending break in the routine, but the nerves just got worse. All thoughts of her chipping and the rest went out the window, however, when she returned from a delivery to find her parents waiting for her. Her mother's eyes were red from crying, while her father was in the midst of getting everything into the refrigeration unit and closing down the shop.

  She had barely begun asking what happened when her mother ran up to her on Mina's way in through the door. She was pulled into a big hug. “Oh, honey ...” he mother started. “Stacy Szach just called. We're going over there now ... something's happened to Scott.”

  Chapter Four

  The drive over to the Szachs’ home was quiet.

  “So what happened?” Mina asked.

  “We don't know,” Jim Cortez said quietly. “But Ben and Stacy are both home in the middle of the afternoon, and they need us.”

  Mina understood his point. The Szachs didn't come home before dusk lightly. This was serious. All sorts of scenarios ran through her head, but she forced herself to stop asking for information she knew her parents didn't have. The ride seemed to take forever, and she found herself wishing for Miko and Vlad's ability to break the posted speed limits in an emergency.

  When they arrived at the Szachs’ home, both of the Kimuras’ cars were parked out front, along with two police cars. One officer was posted out by them, another at the door. The officer near the street talked with Mina's father a few moments, verifying who they were and that they were expected, and even scanned his wrist unit to verify his identity before letting them fully park. A few words into a subvocal mic, and the policeman at the door nodded, waving them up.

  Dr. Kimura met them at the door, looking to Mina's parents and shaking his head. “No news,” he started off, quietly. “Amiko is downstairs, watching Elizabeth,” he told Mina.

  The invitation to go join Miko with Scott's little sister was obvious, but Mina shook her head. She wanted to find out what was going on from as official a source as was available before getting Miko's understanding of the situation. She needed to have the facts to get herself grounded before Miko made it ... real. She followed along with her parents. As soon as they hit the living room, Mina's mother ran over to where Mrs. Szach was sitting on a couch, giving her a long hug before sitting down next to her. Mr. Szach was still standing when they entered, pausing from talking with two more officers as the group entered. Dr. Kimura made his way over to the standing group, followed by Mina's father. Mina settled awkwardly into one of the recliners, waiting for someone to say something.

  While it was able to dispel a lot of her worst fears, the explanation raised almost as many questions. Apparently, Scott was working at the University. Officially, doing programming for the University itself, though Mina wondered. At some point, some type of kidnappers had broken into his work area. There were no official reports on what, if anything else, had been taken. The officers answered Dr. Kimura's specific questions about University security, cameras, and other measures evasively. As far as anyone could gather, the people who broke in either knew the right cod
es, or had managed to hack the systems, and knew where the cameras and security were stationed. Scott and most of his co-workers had disappeared from their computer lab. Beyond this, and being there to wait for an expected call from kidnappers, they didn't seem to know much—at least they wouldn't, perhaps couldn't, say much.

  “Once again, Mrs. Szach, Mr. Szach, while there were signs of violence found, every indicator we have is that Scott is still alive and hopefully unhurt,” an officer said. “We're keeping a security detail here, and the house phones are ready to trace any ransom calls that come in. We have people still investigating at the University.” It seemed to be a refrain.

  Despite her frustration with the situation and lack of answers, she couldn't help but feel for the policemen's position. Having to be the bearers of that kind of news, while not having any kind of reason or logic to offer frantic parents, or worse, having information that might help something like this make sense, but not being able to share it, even with those parents.

  Mina was sitting there, simply thinking about that professional situation. She sat there while the parents talked quietly, almost like they did in the 'pre-shindigs.' Any minute now, someone would go get the veggie tray, just to test it out.

  Except that didn't make any sense. Not because they were talking to police officers, but because the bringing out of the veggie tray had to be accompanied by Mrs. Kimura's playful cursing of her doctors for forbidding blue cheese dressing. The three families hadn't really had a 'pre-shindig' since Mrs. Kimura died. Just the official parties, just business. And now, just ... this. Missing the professor's wife jarred her abruptly back to what the conversation was about.

  She quickly excused herself, feeling a bit dizzy and disconnected. On her way down into the cool basement, something in her brain didn't give up trying to convince her that none of this could be real. Scott would be downstairs, with his video games plugged into his eye, while Miko would be showing Beth ancient TV series or movies.

  She found the pair of girls on the couch of the downstairs TV room. Scott's room door was open, but the computer was turned off, the chair unoccupied, connection wires dangling loose from the desk. Miko was, indeed, using her hand-held vid player to show some series or other, but she wasn't doing any of the voices, or adding little quips and bits of the history of the show while they watched. A little under a year ago, when she was still eight, Beth had decided she was too old for her stuffed animals and dolls and had packed most of them away. Now she was half-wrapped around the teddy bear that Miko had won her at the state fair baseball toss (and let Scott claim credit). Miko had even lent Beth her fedora, making her very red eyes all the more visible.

  At the sound of Mina's entry, both girls disentangled themselves and ran to her, leaving the hand-held running in front of the bear. Miko buried her head on Mina's shoulder and wrapped her arms around her, while Beth did her best to encircle both girls' waists.

  It was only then that everything came crashing down to the level of reality, and Mina started crying too.

  * * * *

  No news and no ransom calls came in the days following, but at least there was also no sign of bodies or anything that would signal the worst. The police were still operating under the theory of kidnapping for ransom. The Szachs had received a long line of the city's elite wishing them well and offering any help they could provide. The police were a constant presence, and Beth was given a security escort to school. The Cortezes and Kimuras were there almost every night after work, but work had to go on. Scott was missing, and Mina was delivering flowers.

  Aside from the responsibilities of work, she had this consultation or whatever it was. She'd been dreading this even before all of the chaos with Scott. Now she was just wishing it could be delayed indefinitely. Still, when the day arrived, there she was. With Miko, thank goodness.

  “Are you sure you don't need me to give you a ride?” her mother had asked. “I can leave your dad alone with the shop for a while when it's your Chipping Day!” Carmen Cortez was excited.

  “Thanks Mom, but it's not my Chipping Day. Just one of those special consideration meetings they mentioned in school.” Implanting someone with everything they needed to know to do their assigned job perfectly had become a mostly exact science in the century-and-some it had been in use, but complications still came up. “Dr. Kimura got Miko out of school for the day. I'll be fine.” Mina wouldn't have been able to bear her mother's excitement over Mina's florist chip.

  The chipping center in Bellevue loomed. Mina had seen the place before, with its odd mixture of hospital and militarized zone. Heavy security patrolled the grounds, and they had to go through two different checkpoints to get in. This part of the process, at least, Mina understood perfectly. With the right chip, someone could do or learn almost anything. The black market was huge.

  Miko sighed as they went through the first security line. “Gotta make sure we're not here to fry ourselves trying to become billionaire astrophysicist racecar drivers,” she whispered.

  Mina got the joke even if she didn't really smile properly. Just as big as the potential benefits of black-market chipping were the risks. Chips were directly tied in to a person's aptitudes. While a chip technically provided all the knowledge—and even rote muscle memory and reactions—to do a job, a person's interests and physical suitability to the tasks still played a part. And 'interests' were not always the same as 'goals.' A chip might give an ambitious buyer perfect knowledge of human anatomy and perfect reactions to deal with every mishap that might arise. If, however, the recipient didn't already have perfectly steady hands and a curiosity regarding the connections of muscles, nerves and organs, the chances of a surgeon's chip malfunctioning went up exponentially.

  Hundreds of thousands of people had faced neurological damage or death in the evolution of the battery of physical and psychological tests, surveys, and interviews to determine that Mina was, in fact, absolutely perfect to a lifetime of working with flowers. Somehow, their sacrifices didn't inspire her to any greater enthusiasm about the prospect.

  The first checkpoint let them into the overall installation. Each of the centers in the two-square-mile complex would be dealing with different aspects of the work being done. Mina was directed towards the overflow building. This is where they'd take oddities being handled outside the normal schedule, like emergency florists. The place wasn't terribly busy, but most of the parking spots were built for modern, minimalist cars, not archaic monsters like Vlad. They ended up parking amidst a few vans and work vehicles, then made the trek to the building.

  “I have the day off,” Miko reminded her, a hand on Mina's shoulder. “So I'll be here to take you to the shop or home or whatever you need.”

  Mina didn't respond at first, just looking up at the block-long, severe-looking building with its metal walls and security checkpoint at the doors. At first, the two guards stationed there were hesitant to let a non-family member through, but a short debate, a brief scan of her subdermal ID chip, and a review of Dr. Kimura's project clearance and status got her waved through after a few minutes and a supervisor's approval.

  “Glad that's settled. They weren't getting rid of me so easily, and now we don't have to figure out if we could've taken them,” Miko whispered cheerily.

  “What do you mean, 'we'? You and your aikido-tae-kwon-do-krav-maga would be on your own.” Mina tried to smile this time, but it was wry at best. She didn't know any of that stuff because she was a one-hobby girl, and didn't even have that one anymore.

  Miko rolled her eyes dramatically. “Pft, My aikido-tae-kwon-do-wushu-krav-maga. You forgot one. And tai chi, but that's more a morning exercise program before piano lessons. After. I mean, after. It was before ... before. Still, bet we could have taken them.”

  Most of the descriptions of Chipping Days Mina had been given were of parking lots full of vehicles from the nearest seven states and packed hallways that eventually let people into equally packed waiting rooms. From the traffic, she suspected severa
l of the other buildings were dealing with that, but this building was mostly quiet. Three other families had staked out their own areas of the sterile waiting room decorated only with charts, lists, and places to tack up more charts and lists. A few nurses and orderlies moved about from place to place, but it was nothing like the chaos she'd envisioned.

  Mina and Miko found two seats with a bit of distance. All the other kids had family along. A redheaded—copper-haired, really—girl sat in near silence next to her mother. The girl chewed nervously on her nails every time her mother looked back down into her magazine. Mina matched a second family to a van with Montana license plates near where they'd parked. She figured she could be wrong, but word around Seattle always had it that you could tell the country kids and people who'd had the long trips to get there. They were the ones who dressed really nicely for the day at the center. All the people from close enough to have made a few trips by the center supposedly knew to dress as comfortably as possible, because everyone was going to be there a while. The big, muscular boy and his parents were all a lot more tanned than most of the locals managed to get anyway.

  The last group were providing most of the noise in the place. While the other families talked quietly, a woman in a University of Oregon sweatshirt worked hard to run herd on a small, short-haired blond boy, who wanted to explore everything. Climbing and crawling on and amidst chairs and side tables, he prompted his mother to drag him back to her immediate presence every few minutes. A girl who Mina figured was probably the boy's twin sister sat quietly, clutching a stuffed duck in Oregon's jungle green and tangerine yellow. Their older brother was immersed in a biology textbook while waiting, either just that bored, or engaged with the scholarly subject above and beyond chipped information. The family's father showed the signs of a long drive; he slid forward in his chair, cat napping while they waited for their son to be called.