The Seventh Angel

couldn’t think of anything else that would justify Flash message traffic with Immediate execute orders.

He stood up and began pulling on his coveralls. The Towers was getting orders to go after the Russian missile sub. That had to be it.

They were going to go kill the submarine. He whistled through his teeth. Nothing like a little taste of deja vu to get the morning started off right.

CHAPTER 33

NEW KOBOSHI HOTEL

CHIBA PREFECTURE, JAPAN

MONDAY; 04 MARCH

0326 hours (3:26 AM)

TIME ZONE +9 ‘INDIA’

Someone was knocking on the door.

Ann Roark grunted and rolled over, pulling a pillow over her head.

The knocking continued, this time accompanied by a voice. “Ann … Get up.”

It was Sheldon.

Ann opened one eye. The miniscule Japanese hotel room was still dark, the only illumination coming from the green digits of the clock radio and the red LED on the ceiling smoke detector. The muted glow of streetlights against the backs of the curtains made the window a rectangle of lesser darkness.

Ann tried to focus on the clock, but her vision was too blurry to resolve the digits into anything meaningful.

Sheldon knocked again. “Wake up, Princess Leia. It’s time to go save the galaxy … Again.”

Ann reluctantly peeled back the covers and half-stumbled out of bed, shuffling in the general direction of the door. She located a doorknob, twisted it, and found herself gazing blearily into the dark confines of the hotel room’s tiny closet. She shoved it closed, located the correct door, and opened it.

The light from the hallway nearly blinded her. She shielded her eyes with a hand that felt like lead, and squinted toward her intruder. Sheldon stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the brightness like a Blake painting of an angel radiating heavenly glory.

Ann turned away from this vision of ersatz splendor, and reached through the open door of the bathroom to flip on the vanity lights.

“Get in, and shut the door,” she said. “That hallway light is killing me.”

She shuffled back into the room, hearing Sheldon close the door behind himself. She flopped face down onto the bed like a rag doll.

She clamped her eyes tightly closed, and then forced herself to open them again. “Did you get through to Powder and Booty?”

Powder was Sheldon’s three year-old cocker spaniel, a shaggy buff-colored powder-puff of a dog, with a lolling tongue and a golden disposition. ‘Booty’ was Ann’s name for Buddy, the eight month-old Yorkshire Terrier- Chihuahua mix that Sheldon had gotten as a companion to Powder. Ann had taken to calling the smaller dog Booty, because he seemed to take savage glee in leaping up to nip unwary people on the rump. The scruffy little rat was, quite literally, a pain in the butt.

“I got a call through to my mom,” Sheldon said. “She’s scared half out of her wits, but otherwise she’s doing okay. I’m glad she lives up in the hills, because she tells me that Oceanside is coming unglued.”

He sighed. “Powder and Buddy are doing fine, by the way.”

Talking about Booty made Ann gradually realize that her own booty was currently on display. She was dressed in her bed clothes: an old Phantom of the Opera tee-shirt and faded green panties. Her butt was pointed straight at the ceiling.

With a nearly-convulsive jerk, she rolled over, adjusting her tee-shirt to cover her panties. Had Sheldon peeked at her ass when her back was turned? He’d almost certainly wanted to. Between Stairmaster and Pilate’s, her butt was in pretty good shape, and she knew that Sheldon was healthy and hetero. He probably hadn’t looked, though. Sheldon had an annoying habit of doing the right thing, even when nobody was watching.

She tugged the shirt down a little lower, trying to make sure her panties were safely out of view. “What time is it?”

Sheldon checked his watch. “Almost three-thirty.”

“In the morning? Three-thirty AM?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s AM,” Sheldon said. “It’s still dark outside. But this is Japan, and the rules may be different here. Maybe the sun doesn’t come up on any particular schedule.”

Ann yawned. “Why …” Her question was interrupted by a second yawn. “… are you waking me up at three- thirty in the freaking morning, Sheldon?”

“You need to get packed,” Sheldon said. “The Navy wants us back.”

Ann yawned a third time. “The Navy wants us back where?”

“Back on the ship,” Sheldon said. “USS Towers. I got a call from corporate about twenty minutes ago. The Navy wants us to do some more work with Mouse. Apparently, Captain Bowie asked for us by name. They’re sending a van to drive us to the Air Force Base at Yakota. We catch a helo flight from there.”

Ann forced her eyes wide enough to stare at Sheldon. He was still standing near the door, illuminated by the bathroom vanity lights. “I’m the tech, she said. Why did corporate call you?”

Sheldon grinned. “They called us both. But you turn your cell phone off at night. I leave mine on. I imagine you’ve got a voicemail on your phone right now.”

Ann rubbed her eyes, and rotated her head to loosen her neck muscles. “What kind of work does the Navy expect us to do?”

“I don’t know,” Sheldon said. “I talked to Rick Kramer from Norton corporate liaison. He couldn’t give details over the phone. Evidently it’s all pretty hush-hush. But Rick did say that it’s going to be dangerous. We have to sign liability waivers and security agreements.”

Ann shook her head. “I’m not at the Navy’s beck and call. They can’t order me to go anywhere. And they certainly can’t order me to intentionally put myself in danger.”

“Nobody’s ordering us,” Sheldon said. “The Navy’s asking for us. They need our help with something.”

He shrugged. “I’m going. There aren’t any flights to the States anyway. Might as well go do some work and earn some hazard pay. It beats sitting around a hotel room the size of a shoebox, watching Japanese game shows.”

“I’m not going,” Ann said. “The Navy can kiss off.”

“Okay,” Sheldon said. “I’ll tell Rick, and they’ll send somebody else.”

“They can’t do that,” Ann snapped. “Mouse is my baby. I did half the fabrication, and I wrote most of the code. Nobody knows that robot like I do.”

“I understand that,” Sheldon said. “But Mouse doesn’t belong to you, Ann. It’s a very expensive prototype that happens to be the property of Norton Deep Water Systems. And Norton has an extremely lucrative contract to build a few hundred Mouse units for the United States Navy. Ann, you know that corporate isn’t going to piss off their numero-uno customer. If the Navy wants a Mouse technician, Norton’s going to send them one. If it’s not you, it’ll be somebody else. But it’s going to happen. You know that.”

He turned back toward the door. “I’ll call Rick, and tell him to get another tech out here.”

Ann sighed. “Alright! I’ll go, damn it! Just get out of here so I can pack and get dressed.”

Sheldon checked his watch again. “The van will be here in about forty minutes. Why don’t we meet in the downstairs coffee shop in half an hour?”