Lieutenant (An Ell Donsaii story #3) (15 page)

Stiffly Amy said, “Yeah, I wonder how the SOB knew I’d be here. This is not a place he’d
ever
show up by accident…” She shrugged, “I’ll go talk to him.”

“No! You do
not
want to meet him over near the door. Make him come into ‘friendly territory.’ As to how he knew you’d be here, he probably has a tracker on your car.”

Ell heard Steve’s voice in her earphone. “That’s Felton Bonapute. Do you want us to take care of him?”

Ell quietly said, “No, I hired you guys to defend me. If I need to go on the offensive, I should do that without dragging you into it. Please stand by in case I
do
need defending.” Then Ell asked Allan, “What have you learned about Felton Bonapute so far?”

Allan responded in her earphone, “He lives a life hundreds of thousands of dollars more expensive than his salary from Casino Real would finance. He has been arrested twice on suspicion of trafficking in narcotics and three times for complaints of violence against women. None of those arrests have led to convictions, all of them being overturned on technicalities. One of those women was later murdered. I’ve run an evaluation of the status of his previous employees and determined that three women who have resigned from employment under his supervision at Casino Real have been murdered. No one else seems to have noticed this connection but I would advise against going anywhere with him. On his income tax he has underreported his income, declared dependents he doesn’t have and taken deductions for charities that he doesn’t actually support. He has…”

Ell said, “Thanks, that’s enough.”

Sasson broke the rack and put in a stripe. Bonapute started shouldering through the crowd in their direction. Ell brightly said, “You’re up next Amy.”

Amy shook herself and started nervously chalking her cue.

Sasson put in a ball. Ell could feel Bonapute coming up behind them. Glancing at the mirror over the bar she checked his position.

Sasson put in another ball. Dang! Ell had been hoping that Amy would be shooting pool by the time Bonapute got to the table. Ell shifted to put herself between Bonapute and Amy.

Sasson put in another ball. Bonapute shifted to the side so Ell wouldn’t be between himself and Amy. “Hello, Ms. Reston. I believe we have some unfinished business.” His tone dripped venom.

Ell turned to him, “Mr. Bonapute I presume?”

Bonapute turned angrily to eye Ell, “Yeah!” he hissed, “Who the
Hell
are you?”

“I’m a friend of Amy’s. Since Amy told me what a lowlife scumbag you were and how you treated her when she worked for you, I’ve done some research. I note that three women who’ve left your employment in the past several years have been murdered. The police don’t seem to have noticed
you
as the common denominator. Care to comment before I turn
that
information over to the authorities?”

Bonapute’s eyes widened momentarily, then narrowed. “Sounds like
you’re
as big a problem as my friend Amy here, aren’t you?”

Axen looked back and forth at the two of them, “What’s the problem here Donsaii?” Sasson straightened from the shot he’d been lining up.

Without looking away from Bonapute’s eyes, Ell said clearly and in a carrying voice, “Mr. Bonapute here, is a drug dealer who has escaped prosecution on legal technicalities,
doesn’t
pay his taxes,
beats
women and likely has
murdered
three of his former employees. He’s come
here
because he’s got a bone to pick with
my
friend and his former employee, Amy.”

Axen and Sasson stepped closer and several of the enlisted at the next pool table also stood and moved their way.

Bonapute hissed, “Who the
Hell
do you think you are?”

Ell saw Steve step up to a neighboring table and set a bag on top of it, then reach inside. She gave Steve a brief head shake and answered Bonapute, looking hard into his eye, “As I said, ‘I’m a friend of Amy’s.’ Now, I’m Amy’s friend who’s called the police.”

Bonapute screamed, “You’re gonna regret this!” and stepped back, but his way was blocked by a couple of large staff sergeants. He reached into his jacket.

Ell cursed at herself.
Of
course
a guy like Bonapute would be carrying a weapon! Why hadn’t she seen that taunting this jerk could create a situation that might get out of hand? Cringing inside at the danger to her and everyone around her, Ell let the zone drop over her. The world slowed, her heartbeat throbbed in slow thunder and she stepped closer to Bonapute.

Bonapute’s hand cleared back out of the jacket with a pistol.

Ell began to swing her pool cue up from where it rested on the floor.

Bonapute swung the muzzle toward Ell.

Ell willed her pool cue to move faster. In the zone, everything seemed to move like it was being pulled through sand!
Nothing
she could do could make the cue move fast enough, but she saw his wrist bobble the gun to her left and she adjusted the trajectory of the cue. The barrel of the gun turned to a black gaping maw as it pointed directly toward Ell and she saw his finger begin to contract around the trigger. She dropped her head out of the line of fire as the gun roared. The bullet flew toward her as she moved her head to the right. It passed by, tugging on her hair.

The smoking black hole of the muzzle disappeared as it rose from the kick ,and she found herself looking at the bottom side of the barrel.
Finally,
her pool cue struck Bonapute’s wrist, driving hand and gun upward. Then the gun twisted as the cue struck it too, ripping the weapon from Bonapute’s fingers but turning the barrel sideways.

The gun went off again! Ice slid down Ell’s spine as she watched the bullet tracking toward Sasson. Her gut unclenched as she saw it pass through his shirt to imbed itself into the wall behind him.

The gun, free of Bonapute’s broken hand, flew up to strike the ceiling. It began to spin and fluttered out toward the crowd.

Ell’s stomach clenched again. Panicked that the un-safed weapon might go off
again
when it struck something, Ell leapt up and out after the turning pistol, kicking off the pool table next to her and stretching out into the air after the gun.

At first she wasn’t sure she’d given herself enough height with her leap, then when it was evident that she’d be able to reach the weapon, she worried that the gun might go off when she grabbed it.

She slowed her stretch for it, letting the handle go by with trepidation that she might not be able to reach the barrel when it came around. After the handle passed she stretched again and grasped the barrel of the weapon as it came around. She touched down one hand on the rail of the next pool table, flipped herself end for end and dropping to land feet first on the other side of the table.

Not wanting a keyed up crowd seeing her with a weapon in her hand, Ell safed it and set it down in the middle of the pool table before most people in the room had any idea what had happened, though most had heard the argument and everyone had heard the gunshots.

She turned to look toward the bar at the area behind where she’d been standing when Bonapute shot at her. At first all she saw were people down on the floor like you’d expect with gunfire. Her heart hammered with fear that one of them had been struck by the bullet that parted her hair. Then, with a huge sigh of relief, she recognized that the broken mirror behind the bar was where the bullet had actually hit.

Shouts broke out around the room. Bonapute initially dropped to his knees, cradling his broken hand, then raised to a crouch, still holding the hand and starting to slink toward the door. Ell’s alto command voice cut clearly through the chatter, “Sergeants!” Both of the large NCOs who had stopped Bonapute before looked sharply her way. “Stop that man!” She pointed.

A moment later Bonapute was held in an unyielding grip. Reaction avalanched over Ell from the near disaster and she began to shake.

***

Colonel Ennis looked bemusedly at Ell. She again stood at parade rest in his office.

Staring at the wall over his head.

Axen had not only described the events at the graduation party but had sent Ennis the video file from his AI. The colonel had watched the sequence repeatedly. He suspected that Donsaii had deliberately goaded Bonapute into rash action, but Ennis would want Bonapute to act rashly and be delivered to jail if the man was guilty of the things Ell had accused him of. Ennis ruefully thought that he would have goaded Bonapute himself, if he could move the way Donsaii could. The speed and amazing athleticism exhibited by the swing of that pool cue and the midair catch of the flying gun was astonishing. After a few moments he said, “Ahh, crap! Sit down Donsaii.”

He waited until she had taken a seat, though she still sat at attention like a brand new Academy Cadet. “Personally, I think you did the right thing. Felton Bonapute needed to be off the streets and you accomplished that. I’m not sure about your judgment, goading a suspected killer to action in a room full of innocents, but if you hadn’t goaded him, he doubtlessly would have gone on hurting people in back alleys.

“However, no matter what I think, the rules say that incidents like these must be ‘investigated’ and that until the investigation is completed you are to be kept away from all combat roles. In other words, if you’re unstable or spoilin’ for a fight, we ain’t turning you loose with a major combat system. So the question is, what can I do with you?”

“Sir, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some experience over in maintenance?”

Ennis’ eyes widened, then he threw his head back and laughed unreservedly. “Never…” he wiped an eye, “never thought I’d get a
request
to be assigned to maintenance. You are no end of surprises Donsaii! You’ve got your wish, maintenance it is.”

Chief Master Sergeant Milton cast a gimlet eye at Captain Danson as he approached with a Lieutenant. The self same gorgeous El Tee that had been over here a few weeks ago with more questions than Nevada had cacti. Danson said brightly, “Sarge, this here is Lieutenant Donsaii, one of the flight leaders from across the way.”

Milton’s eyes widened as he recognized the name. This was Donsaii? To hear people tell it she was ten feet tall, breathed flame and leapt over tall buildings. His mental image just didn’t jibe with this slender reddish blond girl that looked like she should be a model. He’d heard a little about the incident over at The Flight Risk and been offered some video from peoples’ AIs but had turned it down.

Captain Danson continued, “She’s been taken off flight duty for a few weeks over some technicality and has actually asked to come over here and learn more about maintenance.” From Danson’s bright tone, he thought this was great. Danson often expounded the belief that the pilots should all be
required
to spend some time working in maintenance so that they’d have more respect for the birds they were flying.

“We’ve been introduced, sir.” Milton said, dryly. “What did you have in mind for the El Tee to do?”

“Well she’s particularly interested in the command and control comm systems so I thought you could have her ‘supervise’ that section, though she’ll probably only have time to begin to understand the system before she goes back to flying.”

“Yes Sir.” Milton said, thinking that he’d have to request that video from the Flight Risk after all.

After the Captain left, Milton took Ell over to the small section that worked on the communication elements of the birds and introduced her to Master Sergeant Nuñez who ran the section. As he walked away he heard the Lieutenant requesting a download of the technical manuals for the RQ-7 and the old MQ-9 Reapers as if she intended to read them! No one
read
the manuals; they only used them for reference when they couldn’t solve an issue!

Milton returned to his office and read the public file on Lt. Donsaii.
This is the girl that won the gymnastic Olympics with perfect tens a few years ago! My God, the woman has a Medal of Honor! How could a kid that young have a Medal?
He read through the public documentation on the award.
Holy crap! She might not have earned it in a war zone overseas but stepping back into the jaws of death to take on terrorists Hell bent on killing everyone in their grasp deserved the Medal of Honor, no matter how you looked at it.

The next morning the video from the Flight Risk had arrived over the net and he watched it a couple of times. He was leaning back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of what he’d just seen when Nuñez came in.

Nuñez was pissed, “Chief, this new El Tee you dumped on us has got her head
way
up her ass!”

“What’s the problem Nuñez?”

“She spent one evening reading manuals and she’s in there telling everyone in my section how to do their jobs!”

“You know Nuñez, I thought officers were
supposed
to boss us NCOs around?”

Nuñez rolled his eyes. “Not ‘wet behind the ears’ butterbar lieutenants”

“What’s she wanting you to do different? Captain’s gonna want to know ‘specific basis’ for a complaint if we go ‘up the chain.’”

“Well first off she starts raisin’ Hell ‘cause the guys aren’t wearing gloves working on the circuit boards. I know the manual says you’re
supposed
to wear them, but they make it hard to feel what you’re doing and the guys make more mistakes. The gloves really slow us down and nobody’s gotten hurt working bare handed. And…”

Milton put his index finger up calling for a pause, “Nuñez, haven’t we been having a high early failure rate on our circuit boards?”

Nuñez blinked.

“Did you know your Lieutenant won a Congressional Medal of Honor?”

Nuñez’ eyes blinked at the non-sequitur, then widened.

“It’s been my impression that they don’t usually give the Medal to people who have their ‘heads’ very deeply implanted in ‘their ass?’ I’ll bet if you look into it carefully, you’ll find that there’s some problem—for instance that oils or acids from our hands cause early degradation of some of the circuit board components. I’m gonna further suggest that you do just what the El Tee says to do unless you’ve got a good reason not to.”