Rogue Commander, Leo Maloney [classic books for 11 year olds TXT] 📗

man. There was also a bronze statue of a runner with what looked like a marathon ribbon and medal dangling from its bony shoulders.

“All right, Alex Morgan,” Schmitt said as the Lady Smith twitched in her grip. “I’m a little wrapped tight these days, so let’s get to the point.”

“My father was here a couple of days ago.”

Schmitt dipped her brow. “Your father.”

“Yes. Mind if I unzip my jacket? It’s kinda warm in here.”

“Go ahead. Slowly.”

Alex smiled, unzipped, and stuck her palm back under her thigh.

“My father and I work for the same organization.”

“Which would be?”

“The name’s not important. It’s an NGO.”

Schmitt sneered. “Nongovernmental organizations are, in the end, all governmental.”

“Not this one,” said Alex. “But it doesn’t matter. Dad told me about the Collins thing.”

With that, Alicia Schmitt pulled her chin in and cocked it slightly, her blue eyes boring into Alex. Then she touched a wall switch, which killed the overhead chandelier and left only a standing lamp next to Alex glowing. She touched the blinds on the front bay window, peered out, and looked at Alex again.

“Collins,” she said. “Means nothing to me.”

“General Collins,” Alex said. “And yes it does, unless you meant that in a personal way.”

Schmitt’s pale lips curled up. “Clever girl. What’s a kid like you doing working for spooks?”

“I’m a college dropout, but I can shoot like Carlos Hathcock.”

With that, Schmitt laughed. “You’re no dummy. You know your history all the way back to Vietnam.”

“Dad.” Alex grinned.

“Right.” Schmitt seemed to relax a little. She pulled a wooden chair over, turned it around, and mounted it backward, but she gripped the revolver draped down over the top spar, still ready. Alex saw she was wearing black running spandex and pro running shoes. “Your dad, so you say.”

“Dark brown hair, touch of gray, chestnut eyes, boxer’s nose, broad shoulders, and an arrogant attitude.”

Schmitt nodded. “Sounds like him.” She looked at her watch. “Now listen up, Alex. I was just about to get out of here, and you’re holding me up.” She gestured to a spot near the piano, where Alex saw a heavy black duffel and a navy camouflage backpack. “So, stop screwing around and tell me why you’re here.”

“My father’s gone rogue from the organization. He’s disobeyed orders to stand down, but this Collins guy was his friend, and he’s determined to clear his name, although I have no idea why it needs clearing. But he’s my dad, and I’m going to help him, even though he bugs the crap outta me half the time. He mentioned that you’re the key to this whole thing, Commander. But a key’s no good unless it turns.”

“Your dad must be very proud of you.”

“Ha,” Alex snorted. “You’d be surprised how he doesn’t show it.”

“No I wouldn’t,” Schmitt retorted before glancing at the hunting picture on the piano. “My dad was proud of me too. Didn’t show it until he was on his deathbed.”

“I’m sorry. I’m hoping mine won’t wait that long.”

A car engine came to life somewhere outside. Schmitt stiffened, looked at the front windows and listened. Then she turned back.

“What’s in the envelope?” she asked.

“Blank paper.”

Schmitt nodded in recognition of the gambit. The envelope wasn’t for her. It was for anyone watching from the street. “Okay, Alex. I have no idea if you are who you say you are. But you’re good—I’ll give you that much. Your dad, if that’s who he is, seemed to know about the general and his mentor relationship to me, but the people who are trying to take him down would know that too. They’d also already know what I’m going to tell you, so it won’t matter much.”

Alex leaned forward on the couch. She felt that Schmitt was trusting her somewhat now, so she pulled her sweaty palms from under her thighs and wiped them on her knees. “Do I need a pen and paper?”

“No,” said Schmitt. “You just need to tell your father that Virginia isn’t a place. It’s a corporation.”

“That’s it? Virginia is a corporation? A business entity?”

“Correct. That’ll give him plenty to chew on.” Schmitt looked at her watch again. “Okay, your session’s over. I’m catching a...” She stopped herself before revealing more.

“Okay, Commander. Thanks. I appreciate the trust.” Alex rose carefully from the couch, making sure her right hand went nowhere near her boot. The navy officer was clearly jumpy, exhausted, and seriously spooked. “Hey, mind if I use your bathroom before I go? It was a long ride down here, and it’ll be the same going back.”

Schmitt waved the revolver to the left toward a hallway. “It’s down there, on the left.”

Alex walked through a slim arched alcove. She saw a door at the back with paned windows and a curtain and the bathroom door to the left.

“And, Alex,” Schmitt called to her. Alex turned and looked back at her. “If you come out with anything in your hands other than a tissue, I’ll drop you right there. Are we clear?”

“Extremely.”

She slipped into the small bathroom and blew out a long breath. Wow, she thought, that poor woman’s nervous as a kitten on a hot plate. She unzipped her jacket, wriggled her leathers over her hips, and sat to pee. Virginia. A corporation, not a place.

She smiled, thinking about her father off on some wild-goose chase, trying to figure out what to look for somewhere here in Virginia, when, in fact, the real target could be a warehouse in Guatemala. It was going to be so much fun to break the news to him, but she’d make him work for it. Maybe she’d handcuff him to his stupid Cobra first.

She finished her business, buckled back up, zipped up tight, and flushed. Then she froze. She heard a sound from the living room. Someone outside was pounding on the front door, but it sounded less like a fist and more like something metallic. Jesus! It sounded like a SWAT team battering ram. She jerked the door open and stuck her head out.

Schmitt was nowhere in sight,