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Out of Bounds (Unplugged)
Chapter 6.
VI. Ice-a-Nice
Drummond hung up the phone and turned to see the dollies making their way through the dinner-time crowd. He caught Lao Ma's eye and gestured toward the exit to the street. She nodded and bent their efforts in that direction. The three of them met on the street in front of the restaurant.
"Nasty called. There's something up at the Ice facility," meaning the central storage and dispatching facility for the Center's famous Amazon Ice, which was one of the perks of life on campus.
"What do you think it is?" asked a suddenly sober and giggle-less Dolly.
"How did they know where to find us?" Dolly Lao Ma queried.
"I have no idea. Nasty was being very mysterioso," Drummond answered, then: "Trolls. They watch us everywhere we go." He gestured across the street at a squad of seven-foot behemoths clad in black leather who came clattering down White Deer Ridge Drive from Carpenter and formed up on the sidewalk--right at the edge of Center territory. (Not that they would have let that stop them had they perceived the danger to their charges to be dire enough.) They were armed to the teeth, with assault rifles being only their most visible armament. Their squad leader, a dashing blond in a black serge uniform piped with silver, made the broken field run through traffic, across the five lanes of the Bixby Road, to reach the three civilians standing on the sidewalk opposite the campus.
"Sir. Ladies," he said, holstering his pistol momentarily to allow him to come to attention properly and salute. "Bobbo sent us out to make sure you get back OK."
"What's up, Alex?" Drummond asked, recognizing the young officer.
"Don't know, sir. Not my bailiwick. They told me to come get you and make sure you make it back onto campus OK, where we can keep an eye on you. We are on Alpha alert status," he reminded the staffers. He drew his weapon again and assumed a rear-guard position, his Heckler and Koch USP9 at high port in the standard two-handed grip.
"True," Drummond allowed as they got a crossing light and he started to shepherd the dollies across the road. He felt more than a little ridiculous and tried to ignore the expressions of the citizens in their cars, who were doubtless nonplused to see a man in ordinary campus-casual attire accompanied by two women in what could be taken for vaguely native costumes of some exotic lands, trailed by an armed, uniformed... campus policemen maybe... scurrying across Bixby Road to be taken into a weapons-bristling protective square by a squad of... very tall, very broad-shouldered soldiers in black leather and threatening expressions and a truly frightening assortment of military-looking hardware. The mirrored visors on their helmets made them look like... Federal Storm Troopers or the Dominator or something. When the light changed, it took a moment for the drivers in the front rank of traffic to recover enough to move on. But it was telling that nobody blew an impatient horn.
"But," Drummond continued, "Does Alpha alert status include freaking out the civilians in order to bring us back from dinner?"
"Bobbo said to remind you that we had two members of the Director's personal staff taken from buildings in the middle of campus, as well as our own Dolly being kidnapped and..." he choked and almost broke down in tears trying to say the word "raped".
Dolly shouldered Drummond aside and stood before the young Troll junior officer. She put forth a gentle hand and touched the back of his black-gloved fist where it was clenched over his stomach. "Alex," she said softly, her voice full of the healing magic Drummond had seen her wield so many times in the field. "It's alright. I'm here. I'm safe. We have to move on. The Chief was just worried about the public image. We do have to think about that, you know. It's our job, now."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, getting a grip on himself. He had managed to keep from weeping. He set his jaw now and lifted his head, looking into Dolly's eyes. "Thank you ma'am," he said with controlled warmth. The leather-clad backs of the Trolls forming a protective cordon around them carefully showed no expression, but the wave of emotion that swept the squad was palpable nevertheless.
Gods! Drummond thought. They worship her! Then he shook himself out of his own Dolly-worship trance.
"Right now, Alex, I have an unspecified emergency halfway across campus, and these ladies need to get to Carpenter Hall to get set up for tonight's Solstice in July party."
"Yes, sir. I'll send half the squad with you..."
"None of that Mr. Troll. You don't divide your forces. The ladies are your priority mission. If someone will lend me a sidearm, I think I can see myself safely to the Ice facility."
"Yes sir! Thoms!"
"Sir!"
"A sidearm for the Chief!"
"Sir! Yes sir!" The Troll thus singled out drew a sidearm--not from the holster at his hip, but from a zippered pocket at the bottom of his knapsack. He presented it to Alex, who in turn presented it to Drummond, who made a show of checking the load and slipping it under his belt at the small of his back. Obviously the squad's spare, carried for just such an occasion.
"Will you need extra ammunition, sir?"
"I don't think so, Alex, but thank you."
"As soon as you can, sir... if I may... please get your own weapon."
Drummond sighed. "You're right, Alex, of course, but..."
He was interrupted by the ringing of a cell phone. Alex answered. "First squad, Charlie Company. White Deer Ridge Drive at Bixby Road." He listened for a moment, then said, "Yes, ma'am," and handed the phone to Drummond.
"Drummond," he said as soon as he got it held to his ear.
"Mitch," came the voice of Terence Hallow Britten, the Center Director. "What the hell were you doing out without your cell phone? Might I remind you that we're at a Level Five alert?"
Drummond winced at the Director's misuse of the alert terminology. But she was right. Purely pro forma, he objected: "We're out of the spy business, Terry. Remember? That's Bobbo's job, now. I was just out to dinner with a couple of friends."
"So long as you work for me and you're a target for my enemies, buddy, you are in the spy business—to save your life. And don't you forget it. I don't ever want you or Dolly out of touch again. You hear me?"
"Yes, Terry, " he sighed.
She calmed down then. "I'm just worried about you, Mitch. You know that."
"I know, Terry, and we appreciate it. We really do. It's just..." Dammit, I'm too old for this shit! I just want to live a quiet life with my lady love and... "... well, you know." She did indeed, know what he could not say in front of the Trolls without affecting their morale.
#
"I'm sending an Elf to meet you at the Ice facility with your own gun and your cell phone. Do me a favor and don't leave 'em behind again?" Terry's voice bore a barely-contained amusement through the wire -- or over the air. Drummond sometimes had trouble remembering that the phone was wireless.
"OK, Terry. I'm sending Dolly and Lao Ma to Carpenter. Is that OK?"
"Sure. Sure. The party has to go on, and they're one of the main attractions. Can't let those clone bastards run our lives, can we? Tell Dolly when she gets to Carpenter to send an Elf for her gun. Tell her I said.... Never mind. You got Trolls around, don't you."
"Yep!" He grinned.
"When you get a chance, tell her I said she was a bad girl. Tell her I said that you were to spank her. She's supposed to look out for you."
Drummond had his back to Dolly when he started to say, "You know, Terry, nobody's asked Dolly..." he turned toward her. "But... " she was holding her open purse in one hand and her Heckler & Koch 9mm in the other, "... she has her gun with her."
There was a moment's silence from the other end of the line.
"And I would bet that she also has her cell phone with her..." a nod of the red-gold head and a soft smile on the sweet bow mouth. He answered with a love-you twitch of his own mouth. "She does."
He heard Terry take a breath, then say briskly. "Good. Well. Never mind the spanking. At least..." he heard the grin enter her voice "... forget it on my account. If you two want to get into that on your own, well... Don't tell me about it."
"OK, Terry. Do you need to talk to the Troll in charge of the detail?"
"No."
"Alright. Later, then." He shut down the phone and handed it back to the Troll officer. "OK, Alex. I'm off to the Ice. You get the dollies to Carpenter for me, OK?"
"Yes sir!"
"Dolly," Drummond said tenderly. "Be good. Don't show off. Remember, you're out of uniform. You can't run in that thing. If anything happens, hit the dirt and let the Trolls take care of it. OK?"
"Sure." She pulled close to him and murmured in his ear, "Do you think...?"
"Actually, no I don't." he spoke softly into hers. "I think it's a case of Terry and her toys. But she's right, and Bobbo's right. We've had too much shit hit the fan here lately to take any chances."
"Well, you be careful," she stood away then, and poked him in the chest with a forefinger. "You come back to me in one piece, hear?"
"Yes, ma'am," he sketched a salute then leaned in to kiss her on the lips. "See you in a bit." He shouldered his way out through the cordon of Trolls and set off up White Deer Ridge at a trot that, he thought proudly, showed the good results of his daily runs.
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