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Emmy And Me
World Acquisition

World Acquisition

“Your what?” Mr Han asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Calling them that is a long-running joke,” I said. “But yeah, I do have my own, um, defense force of Night Children and I’ve been training them up to a fairly high standard. Well, Grant Henry has, along with another Special Forces guy I hired a while back, plus two new guys. But I think you could bring in a new perspective and skill set. I’d also like your feedback on their progress. I mean, I get that from Grant and Jody, but it’d be good to have a fresh set of eyes, if you know what I mean.”

“How many of these Night Children do you have in your little private army?” Mr Han asked, still processing the idea.

“Well, only twenty or so will be involved in our upcoming action. The rest are still needed for their usual job of providing security,” I explained.

“You’re telling me a whole lot more than you should, from an operational security standpoint,” Mr Han said.

“As far as I’m concerned, you’ve been read in. I trust you to keep my secrets. Hopefully that’s not misguided of me, but I don’t think it is. I think we have an understanding, you and me,” I said, looking him in the eyes.

“You barely know me, and I am discovering a lot about you that I didn’t know,” he objected.

“I know that Grant trusted you with my most basic secret, and he’s known you for years. In the week that I spent training with you, I got a good feel for the kind of man you are, and you’ve let yourself be honest with me. I know that I don’t know a damned thing about military intelligence or spy craft or whatever, and I definitely am ready to take any sort of advice on that subject you’re willing to give. But you’d already put together the outlines of what was happening, and there’s no point in denying it to you if getting you involved can help as much as I think it would.”

“So, why knives?” Mr Han finally asked, changing the subject.

“They’re quiet. That’s what it ultimately boils down to. Night Children have always been ambush predators- well, except for a period at the end of the Bronze Age, anyway. Their physical gifts evolved to help them fill this niche, and so they’ve leaned into it,” I explained.

“That… makes sense,” Mr Han admitted. “If you can see in the dark, can move quietly, and are colored to vanish in the shadows, ambushing your prey would be natural.”

“Right. And gunfire? Not conducive to any of those things.”

“So it’s partly cultural, and partly physiological,” Mr Han mused.

“Exactly.”

Changing the subject again, Mr Han said, “The Night Child we’re interested in… He knew of you.”

“Yeah?” I asked, sipping my cocktail.

“He said that he had heard stories of the two queens in America. One was an angel, and the other a demon,” Mr Han said with a chuckle.

“I don’t know why anybody would possibly think of Emmy as a demon,” I protested, earning me a smile.

“How did your plans for world domination go tonight?” I asked Emmy when I got back to the hotel suite.

“Good,” she said with a weak smile. “You were right about opening up to friends. And I was right that I had been selfish. In my own misery I had not remembered that Angela was Jenna’s very best friend. I had been so focused on my own loss that I had not considered that others would mourn her as well.”

“Everybody loved Angela,” I said, sitting down on the couch next to Emmy. “Is that Ange’s laptop?

“Yes,” Emmy said, turning it so I could see the screen better. “I have been looking through the photos. Jenna reminded me that I should put up notices on Angela’s social media accounts. She said that I should also contact her sponsors and make arrangements with them for whatever residuals they might owe her.”

“Yeah, I’ve been putting off dealing with those sorts of things, but we do need to do it,” I agreed. “Chatting with my drive group guys, one of them said something that got me thinking about Angela’s car. I need to call Rafael and ask what he wants me to do with it.”

“Would it be strange to give it to Cecilia when she comes to stay with us?” Emmy asked. “Would it bring up bad memories?”

“Does she even want to come stay with us, even though her sister is gone?” I asked, surprised. “I guess I’d assumed she wouldn’t want to.”

"I do not know,” Emmy admitted. “It did not occur to me to ask while we were there in Colombia. I will ask when we go back.”

“How do you feel about her staying with us?” I asked.

“I am not certain,” Emmy replied, thinking about it. “I feel that we cannot take away what we have already promised, but I do not know what having Cecilia in the house without her sister to keep her… grounded would be like.”

“I don’t even know if she still wants to, or if her parents will even let her after what happened to Angela,” I said. “I say we don’t mention anything to the Castros until it comes up in conversation when we’re back in Cartagena. But in the meanwhile, I won’t do anything with the Z4.”

“Delaying action is unlike you,” Emmy said, leaning against me.

“It’s not that I’m delaying anything,” I protested. “I just want to see how the Castros feel before I bring it up. I don’t want to cause them any more stress right now, and this is something that has time. After all, she wasn’t going to come to LA until next summer, anyhow.”

“I understand and agree,” Emmy said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “But we must take care of some of these other issues soon. I would like it if you would help me write emails to Angela’s sponsors- you know about these things more than I.”

“I’ll do it tomorrow,” I said. “I need a clear head, and three drinks tonight aren’t helping that.”

“Then we should go to bed,” Emmy said, closing up the laptop.

Snuggling in bed, I said, “You never told me how your plans for starting a worldwide domination network went.”

“That was so much fun,” Emmy said, and I could hear it in her voice. “We talked about whether we should build our headquarters on a remote island, or in a volcano, or in a volcano on a remote island. We debated the merits of each option, but ultimately decided that none would be a good idea, since good take-out Japanese food would be hard to find locally.”

“Yeah, that could be a real problem,” I agreed.

“So we settled on a giant, ominous skyscraper in a major city. That seemed the most practical.”

“I like where this is going,” I told her, enjoying the light-hearted conversation.

“We worked on ridiculous acronym names, as you had suggested. I think the best was W A L M A R T. ‘World Acquisition, Leading Mankind’s Advancement’- and that is all we were able to come up with,” Emmy said. “We still need to figure out what the last letters would stand for.”

“Unfortunately, I think that one’s taken,” I said, chuckling. “But you guys should keep trying. I’ll have business cards made up once we get something sorted out.”

“That would be so amusing!” Emmy said, wiggling her way closer into my big spoon. “I would love to have cards to hand out with my evil alias on them.”

“Still want ‘Smooth Kitty’?” I asked.

“You should have seen Andy and Jenna when I told them that would be my nom de guerre,” Emmy said. “The looks on their faces were priceless.”

“I’m glad you had a good time tonight,” I said.

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“I did,” Emmy said. After a moment, she said, “Jenna wants to take a tour of the tunnel system under downtown Houston. Do you mind if I go with her?”

“What, just leave Andy and me to our own devices again?”

“It is a risk that I am willing to take,” Emmy said. It was so good to hear the smile in her voice that had been missing since the attack that I couldn’t help myself from squeeing her tightly. She let out a little yelp and said that she was still very sore and tender, but didn’t seem upset by my outburst of affection.

The next morning after breakfast Jenna and Emmy (along with all four bodyguards) left for the tunnel tour.

“Well, what do you want to do today?” Andy asked after they’d gone.

“Honestly? I could really use a good workout,” I told him. “I haven’t done a damned thing in too long.”

“I used the hotel fitness center yesterday. It’s kind of a joke,” Andy said.

“You know what I did in Melbourne? I found a nearby MMA gym and got a week’s membership. That worked out really well, for the most part. Maybe there’s a place here locally…” I said, pulling out my phone to search.

“For the most part?” Andy asked.

“They were a bit nosy about me,” I said. “They wanted to know where I fight, stuff like that.”

“Well, that’s not going to be a problem going forward,” Andy said. “Pretty much everybody in the world now knows where and how you fight.”

“God, don’t remind me,” I said, palming my face.

“You know, when you told me that, well, you know, in Japan, I… Well, I guess I mostly believed you. But then when I saw that video, I was like, ‘holy shit!’ and… well, it erased any doubt I might have had in my mind, you know?” Andy said.

“Yeah, I think it erased everybody’s doubts about me,” I said, sipping my coffee. “You said Steve K was bragging about me, right?”

“Dude! He’s like your best friend, to hear him say it,” Andy said, laughing.

“So, wanna find a gym with me?” I asked. “I could really use the exercise, and I don’t think I’m ready to get back to running just yet.”

“Like, a twenty-four hour fitness kind of place?”

“No, I hate those places. I like old-school fight gyms,” I said.

“Will you think I’m a pussy if I admit that I’ve never been in one of those places?”

“There’s always a first time for everything,” I said. “Did you pack workout clothes?”

We soon found ourselves at an MMA gym in an area called Midtown. I’d called and asked if they had weekly memberships for people in town for a short while, and the guy said they did day passes, which included first jiu jitsu lessons.

I liked the looks of the place from the street- nice and unpretentious. Pushing our way inside, the interior confirmed that it was at least as authentic as the place in Australia had been. No, it wasn’t a stinky old-school boxing club, but it would do.

The guy behind the sign-in desk’s eyes got big when he looked up at me after checking my ID. “You’re- you’re her, right? Um, Emmy’s wife?”

“Told you,” Andy said, poking me in the ribs.

“Yes, Emmy De Lascaux is my wife,” I admitted. “Is that a problem?”

“Um, nah, nah,” he said, shaking his head so fast his beaded dreads hit him in the face. “But I guess you won’t be needin’ the intro class, now will ya?”

“I just need a place to work out for the next few days, to keep from getting stale,” I told him. “And Andy here needs to work out so he doesn’t get fat.”

“Hey!” Andy protested. “I will have you know I’m clean. No ‘roids for me. This is all natural,” he said, striking a bodybuilder pose.

“Don’t be talking about ‘roids in here, man,” the counter guy said, looking around. “We keep a clean gym, you get me?”

“I’m with you on that, brother,” Andy said, making a face. “Maybe half of my teammates juice, and no matter how much I tell ‘em it’s a bad idea they keep doing it.”

“Seriously,” the counter guy said, waving his hand. “Them words is prohibited in here.”

“Good,” Andy said, nodding.

Once we’d filled out all the releases and paid for the day, Andy asked what I usually did for a workout.

“Well, back in LA, I’d typically fight train for a couple of hours before moving to plyos and weights for another hour or two,” I said, looking around.

“You work out three hours a day?” Andy asked impressed.

Shrugging, I said, “It depends on a lot of outside factors, but yeah, typically. There- it looks like there’s a heavy bag open. What are you going to do?”

“I usually start with weights- this time of year I’m typically in my power phase, getting ready for the start of the season. After that, I like to work on mobility,” Andy said.

“Alright- I’ll check in with you,” I said, heading off to the bag I’d spotted.

“Leon said I should come talk to you,” one of the trainers said about an hour later when I stopped to take a sip of water. When I turned to face him, he stepped back. “Aw, shit!” he said. “You’re the one from those videos!”

“I guess that would depend a lot on what videos you’re talking about,” I said, wiping my face.

Looking around, the trainer dropped his voice so he wouldn’t be overheard. “Did you really… I mean, was it real?”

“No, it’s all fake,” I said, my voice conspiratorial. “We filmed it in a Hollywood sound studio. Those were all stuntmen.”

“They’re saying online that it really happened,” he protested.

“Of course they do. They say that about the moon landings, too,” I confided. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” I said, turning back to the heavy bag.

“Aw, man, you really messed with Jerry’s head,” the counter guy said when we checked out.

“Not really difficult,” I said with a little shrug.

“What was that about?” Andy asked as we waited outside for our ride.

“The trainer guy, Jerry I guess is his name- he came over to talk and recognized me from the videos. I told him it was all faked- filmed with stunt men in Hollywood.”

“And he believed you?” Andy asked, amazed.

“Apparently so,” I said with a smirk. “Like I told the guy at the counter, Jerry wasn’t working with all that much in the brains department. So, what do you think? Is the place good enough to bother returning for another workout?”

“I’ve got a better weight setup in my garage,” Andy said. “But the place is clean and I never really had to change up my routine because others were using the equipment, so I guess it’s O.K. enough for now. How about for you?”

“It was alright, but I’m already over people reacting to me because they recognize me from seeing those damned videos,” I said.

“Yeah, you’d better get used to it. Maybe dye your hair or something. Hey- here’s an idea. Get your hair cut short and have it dyed dark. Maybe not black, but brunette or something, but get a wig that looks like your hair the way it is now,” Andy suggested, excited by the idea. “That way you’ll look just the same as always in public with Emmy, right? But on your own, when you don’t want to be recognized, ditch the wig and pencil in your eyebrows a little bit.”

“Honestly, that isn’t a terrible idea,” I admitted as the Uber pulled up.

“Some people might be able to figure out who you are, but most won’t. I mean, the videos that everybody’s seen, your most recognizable feature is your long blonde hair, right? Lose that, lose the attention,” Andy said.

“Hey, is it too late to change our destination?” I asked the driver.

“I’ve got to take you to where you wanted when you ordered the ride,” he said. “But I can take you somewhere else afterwards.”

“That’s fine,” I said, using my phone to search for wig stores.

“I can’t believe you actually did that,” Andy said, admiring my side-parted bob haircut. “And the color!”

“Now everybody is going to think we’re brother and sister, not just cousins,” I said, looking at our reflections in the salon mirror.

“I’m not sure if it was genius or insanity for you to get your hair done the exact same color as mine…” Andy said. “But I gotta say, It looks believable.”

“Aaaand now I’m back,” I said, slipping on the wig I’d bought, careful to tuck any stray, light brown hairs up underneath.

“It isn’t exactly like your real hair, but pretty close,” Andy said, looking me over. “It’ll convince anybody that doesn’t examine you too closely.”

“That’s all that matters. I just need to look the same as always to any reporters or whatever from a distance, you know?”

“Yeah, that’s why I came up with the idea in the first place,” Andy said.

“And thank you for that, my dear brother,” I said, slipping the wig into my shopping bag.

“I gotta take a picture of you for Jenna,” Andy said, but I put my hand on his phone.

“I want to surprise Emmy- let’s keep it on the QT for now.”

“O.K., but sometime soon we’ve got to get our picture taken together to send to our moms- they’ll get a laugh out of it,” Andy said, making me smile at the thought.

Andy and I were just hanging out in the suite when Emmy and Jenna returned, and the look of shock and surprise on their faces was precious.

“Leah!” Emmy said, her eyes wide. "Your hair!”

“Blame Andy,” I said. “It was his idea.”

“You look so different!” Jenna said, setting some shopping bags on the table.

“That’s the idea,” I said. “I’m tired of being recognized from those damned videos.”

“Yeah, but once news gets out that you cut and colored your hair…” she protested.

“Ah, that’s where this comes in,” I said, pulling the wig out and putting it on.

“That is brilliant!” Emmy said, watching as I tucked my now-brown hair up and out of sight. “You will still be blonde Leah for public appearances, but brunette Leah out in the wild.”

“Exactly!” Andy said. “That’s why I suggested it.”

“The color was my idea,” I said.

“I need to take you guys’ picture,” Jenna said, pulling out her phone. “Andy, your mom is gonna love this.”

Andy elbowed me in the ribs, saying, “See?”

Emmy had to rush her shower and get dressed quickly in time to leave for the sound check. She’d invited Jenna and Andy to come with her, but they begged off. They said that once was enough- they’d wait for the actual show itself, thank you.

After Emmy and the squad of bodyguards had left, Jenna said, “You know, Lee- I bet some foundation would hide that scar. Cover that up and nobody will recognize you.”

“I’m not really good with makeup,” I confessed. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Well, I don’t think anything I’ve got would be right for your coloring, so I’ve got nothing. If we had the time we could hit a Nordy’s and get you sorted out, no problem.”

“We’ve got, like, four hours until we need to walk across the street and find our seats,” Andy said, tapping his watch for emphasis. “That should be plenty of time.”

“You up for it?” Jenna asked, excited by the prospect, pulling out her phone to do a search.

“Sure, why not?” I asked.

“This is great- there’s a Macy’s pretty much right next door to the Nordstrom. Honestly, though, I can’t imagine that the cosmetics ladies at Nordy’s won’t be able to get you set up,” Jenna said, looking at her phone.

She was right- the two ladies at the counter that Jenna steered me to knew what they were doing. When I explained that I really never used much makeup at all and had no idea how to apply foundation, much less figure out what color, they did an excellent job of explaining what would work for my skin tone and showed me how to use their powder and soft brush to simply blend away the scar on my cheek. Sure, the whole tutorial took over an hour while poor Andy relaxed on a nearby couch and played with his phone. Jenna, in contrast, watched the whole procedure closely.

“Perfect,” Andy said, nodding as he examined the job I’d done following the ladies’ instructions. “You can still sort of see the, you know, physical part of the scar, but only if the light hits it just right. Otherwise it’s just gone.”