Assault or Attrition Read Free Page A

now, which is why I lost the blues.” He
gestured down at his perfectly pressed khaki pants and crisp white
shirt. “How are things? Aside from being a human pin cushion?” His
eye trailed down to the fresh bloodstain that dotted my hospital
gown.
    “I’ve been
better,” I said flatly. “But they said it’ll be months before I can break dance again.” I motioned to my bodyguard, who
scrambled to her feet and attempted to straighten her blazer and
skirt. The outfit was rumpled with a coffee stain marking the left
arm; after sleeping in her clothes for two consecutive nights,
there was no amount of fussing that could have made it appear even
remotely presentable. “This is Valentina Garcia.”
    “I read the
reports,” Todd replied with an affable smile. “Nice work up there
in the tower, Miss Garcia. A little messy, but effective. Is that
what they taught you in Central Africa?”
    I raised an
eyebrow, glancing back at her.
    “I see you did
your homework on me,” she replied, her words frosting over as they
spilled from her lips. “Africa was just a job.”
    The detective
had clearly struck a nerve. Valentina’s posture stiffened, hands
balling into tightly clenched fists. I’d never known her to have a
short fuse, so the visceral reaction to the officer’s question
caught me off-guard.
    Before the
conversation spiralled out of control I decided to intervene,
projecting as much authority as I could while lying prone in a
hospital gown. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on
here?”
    “Your bodyguard
has quite a resume,” Todd explained. “She protected a military
dictator for over a year. Quite an evil bastard from what I
understand, even by the impressive standards of that region.” His
eyes flicked back to Valentina. “Not too picky about the clients
you work for, I’m guessing.”
    “The money
spends the same as anyone else’s,” she fired back.
    Todd smiled
once again, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sure it does, Miss
Garcia...once you wash the blood off.”
    I threw my legs
over the side of the bed, forcing myself to stand. The sudden
movement caused a burning sensation that stretched from my lower
abdomen straight up my spinal column. I swayed. Todd reached out
and clasped his hand around my arm, keeping me upright. I made a
mental note to ask for some additional pain-killers when the nurse
came to re-stitch my stomach.
    I thanked the
detective for his assistance, and asked Valentina to step outside
for a moment so we could speak privately. She agreed, replying with
nothing more than a sharp nod.
    Todd waited for
the heavy wooden door to slam shut behind him before speaking
again. “She’s a piece of work.”
    I couldn’t
argue, but her results speak for themselves. “She has her moments,
but I owe her my life.”
    The detective
said nothing, but the look on his face spoke volumes. In his line
of work, you survived by putting faith in the people watching your
back. When someone takes an oath to protect you – and pulls through
in a life-or-death situation – it’s hard to pass judgment on their
track record, no matter how sketchy the details might seem at the
time.
    “Should you be
walking around?” he asked.
    I groaned and
leaned back, using the edge of my bed for support. “Probably not,
but I need to get out of here sooner than later.” I glanced down at
his briefcase. “I appreciate the visit, but I assume you’re not
here for a social call.”
    He laid the
case flat on my bed and unlatched the locks, flipping open the lid.
Inside was a tattered manila folder six inches thick. Old school
cop, old school filing system, I suppose. I couldn’t blame him;
given the choice, I still preferred the texture of paper against my
fingertips to scanning a lifeless holo-screen.
    Riffling
through the stack of photographs and hand-written notes, he yanked
out a creased eight-by-ten snapshot and held it up for my
inspection. “Recognize this beauty?”
    It was the
waiter