Carson didn’t answer.
“Look, I appreciate your well wishes on my ankle, but you probably called for another reason, so what can I do for you?”
“Oh, right,” Carson said. “I called because you were the best training officer I had. Plus you were the only woman. And I need some advice.”
“Advice?” Katie shrugged.
“Yeah.On dealing with… it.”
“It?”
“It.The whole thing. Being a woman on this job. Dealing with the men. All the sexual tension. Just… all of it.”
Katie’s mind whirred in several different directions. No one ever taught her how to deal with it. She figured it out on her own, the hard way. By working hard. By being the best cop she could be. By never showing that she was any weaker than her male counterparts. Hell, by never being any weaker than her male counterparts.
Sexual tension? Sure, it existed, but you handled it the way you handled it anywhere else. Professionally. Prudently. And if anything ever happened with anyone on the job, you kept it discreet. Mostly you didn’t let it happen, because it almost always led to disaster. That’s what happened with her and Stef. She’d learned her lesson there on her own. No one pulled her aside and gave her the template for dealing with it. She certainly hadn’t called anyone at home and pleaded for advice.
And who did this Carson chick think she was, anyway? Time was, a rookie remembered his place. Open ears, close mouth. Work hard. Learn. It didn’t come to you on a silver platter. You figured it out over time and if you proved yourself to be a brave and hard worker, the veterans on the platoon gave you some subtle guidance, but you didn’t call them on the phone and ask for it. You earned it. At seven years on the job, Katie knew she was just now entering that veteran phase of her career. She’d earned that respect from most of her platoon mates, with the possible exception of Kahn, and who cared about that prick? She’d faced impossible situations and come through them. Maybe not whole, maybe not all right, but she’d come through. And no one held her hand or gave her some secret potion to deal with all of it. It wouldn’t have mattered if they had, anyway. Some knowledge has no value unless you learn it on your own.
Katie drew in a breath and prepared to tell Carson some version of all these thoughts. She wasn’t sure how they’d tumble out but she was pretty sure this little beauty queen would know by the end of the conversation that even if she had some sort of secret wisdom, she wasn’t just going to hand it over to some bimbo playing dress-up. Carson was going to have to earn it. Like she did.
“Are you still there?” Carson asked.
“Yes,” Katie said. Her stomach was warm with the wine. Maybe she shouldn’t say those things. Or if she did, maybe it shouldn’t be when she was feeling the wine so much. Maybe she should suggest that she and Carson meet for coffee sometime in the next couple of days and she could decide if there was any advice she could give her that would help.
“Should I call you some other time? You sound a little funny.”
“No,” Katie said. “I’m fine. I’m just a little surprised, that’s all.”
“Oh. Well, I just figured you were the best person to talk to.” She paused. “Maybe the only one who’d understand.”
Katie did understand.
“There aren’t any women on your platoon?” Katie asked.
“No. Just you. Besides me, of course.”
“Wait a minute. You’re on my platoon now?”
“Yeah,” Carson said. “I got reassigned when you were injured. You didn’t know?”
“No,” Katie answered. “I didn’t know.”
Katie digested this. They sure didn’t take long to replace her. What the hell was this? Any chick will do? She knew that wasn’t the case, but it still burned at her. Not only was she going to be out of commission, but in the meantime Carson was supposed to replace her? And now Carson had the audacity to call her up and ask her exactly how to do that?
“Anyway,” Carson said, “I just figured you probably went through a lot of the same stuff I’m dealing with, so I wanted to call and see if you can offer any advice.”
Katie opened and closed her mouth. She choked down the bilious words that threatened to spill out. Even through the vino she could tell that while Carson didn’t know how utterly ignorant she was, she wasn’t calling to be malicious. She didn’t deserve a magic totem to get her through what Katie learned the hard way, but she didn’t deserve Katie biting her head off, either.
“The best advice I can give you is to do the job,” Katie said. She knew her words had a slight slur, but she repeated them anyway. “Just do the job the best you can.” When Carson didn’t reply right away, Katie added, “Be a good cop.”
Katie nodded. Her advice might sound simple, but she knew it was also profound. In fact it was as close to a magical secret as Carson, or any other cop for that matter, was likely to ever get.
“Okay,” Carson replied, her voice unsure. “But I was also wondering about-”
“I’m sorry,” Katie said, “but I’ve got to go. This pain medication makes me nauseous. I’m not feeling very good.”
“Oh. All right. Well, thanks for-”
“You’re welcome,” Katie said, and hung up.
For a long while Katie MacLeod stared down at her empty wine glass, awash in emotions. Guilt gave way to frustration, which faded into a tickling anger. A little bit of self-pity tried to worm its way in, but she pushed it away with pride. Finally the guilt rose to the top again.
Katie slid her injured foot off the support chair, stood up, and limped toward the refrigerator. She was pretty sure that another bottle of Wenatchee’s best was in there. And right now, that seemed the simplest and easiest thing to do.
1811 hours
Valeriy Romanov sat sipping his Turkish coffee. A half-eaten pastry sat on the plate in front of him. He stared down at the deep black coffee in the tiny cup between his hands. Sergey could not be moved from his decision to address the heads of the various gangs. This was despite Val’s strong counsel that he insulate himself and allow Val to handle the meeting. “No,” Sergey had said, “a subjugated people need to know who their ruler is, even if they never see my face again.”
Val had argued, raising several valid points. Sergey was unmoved. Of course, secretly Val was glad that Sergey had been obstinate. It was exactly what he’d wanted.
Val lifted the powerful coffee to his lips and sipped. The strong taste and odor filled his senses while he considered how to execute the next stage of his plan. He saw the endgame very clearly, but the plays between now and then were still shadowy. Perhaps Sergey would show him the way. He glanced around the small coffee shop, a habit from his days on the street as a young man. Natalia stood by the cash register striking a seductive pose and glancing up at him often enough to let him know that she was his for the taking. He thought that perhaps after he finished with the evening’s business he might avail himself of that particular opportunity. But for now he needed to remain focused.
Focused. The lack of focus made him think momentarily of Pavel. He fingered a battered paperback copy of Dune that sat next to his plate. It was printed in Russian, purchased from a street vendor in Kiev. He’d brought it along to give to his nephew. The boy needed to become more serious, and soon. What better way to reach him than through the same book that stirred his own Machiavellian nature?
He turned his thoughts to the top men in the organization. None of them lacked in loyalty. Several had been soldiers who served in Spetsnaz with him, and those that hadn’t had been on the streets of Kiev with him and Sergey.
Still, Val had to admit he had missed Oleg’s treachery. The accountant had voiced several points of dissatisfaction, but Val had never read that to be disloyalty. He encouraged his men to speak up and advise him of any problems they saw with operations. It was in that light that he had heard Oleg’s challenges. Instead, the man turned out to be a traitor, a dirty musor.