Chapter Fourteen

Last night had been interesting in the best sense of the word.

It had gone from shit show to something that made the whole Mickey Pauley circus well worth it.

When Nutsbe brought the pizza to the car, both Olivia and he were famished, and they ended up eating in the parking lot under a light. He'd thought of it as cozy, intimate, yeah, even a little romantic, with the rain forming a curtain of sound around their car; the streetlights, refracted by the torrent, glittered outside the window.

That could have gone on a lot longer, and he would have been glad. But Olivia's eyes were tired. So he suggested they head home.

Knowing that a piece of cardboard would protect Olivia's door and Mickey Pauley was in the wind, Nutsbe wished he could extend an invitation to use his guest room. Having just met her that morning, Nutsbe didn't think Olivia would accept an invitation to sleep at a stranger's house. He didn't want to push her away by being too forward. And she certainly had the wherewithal and the savvy to pack a bag and go to a hotel until she fixed the window and could have an alarm system installed.

After dropping Nutsbe off at his house, she'd rounded the block, pulled into her garage, and gone in. And he hadn't heard her leave again.

When the rain stopped around twenty-three hundred hours, Nutsbe heard the now familiar rumble of motorcycle engines—two of them. They carried on for over an hour before the rain sent them home again.

Then, it was just the flash of floodlights that blinked him continuously awake.

Nutsbe had used the robotic system to adjust his security lights and cameras to take in Olivia's backyard. He set the sensitivity to high and quickly learned that on the other side of his fence, an ecosystem of nocturnal animals trounced across her yard.

It reminded him of the case where he had monitored a client's home, and the team thought dogs were setting the system off. Adjusting the lights to form an animal corridor so the flashing lights didn't wake that client or the neighborhood had proven to be a near-fatal mistake, allowing the bad guy to belly-crawl into place. Boots on the ground and a sick sense in Nutsbe's stomach saved her life.

What Iniquus needed was an AI system that could read the heat signatures and only flip the lights on when the intruder was the size of a human. He'd talk to the tech department and see if they had something like that in the works.

After the first time the floodlights flashed, Nutsbe swiveled around to quickly manipulate the clasp that anchored his prostheses, then leaped to the window to scan. After that, Nutsbe flung his sheets and blankets to the side and went to bed wearing his prosthetic legs, ready to jump into action.

The thought "if someone is coming for her …" clenched his stomach and made something low and vicious hum under his skin. He thought back to the postures of the Cerberus tactical dogs, waiting for the appropriate set of circumstances to fly through the air and sink their teeth. They longed for it. The only thing holding them in place was painstaking training. Yeah, that intensity in the eyes, that bunching of the muscles—that was him.

Nutsbe had always been arm's length from violence. He dropped the bombs from fifteen hundred feet. He managed the missions from the TOC. He fought on the mats where he could tap out.

Last night was the first time he'd faced a real-world fight. Like the tactical K9s, he had kept his cool, thought strategically, and done the right thing regarding force application. He was proud of the way that had all gone down.

But maybe he was like a dog, too. That first taste of blood might have awakened his animal instincts. He wanted the fight. More precisely, he wanted the fight that would protect Olivia. And in this instance, Nutsbe knew the best weapon wasn't his fighting skills or something he could snatch up and wield. Nutsbe's weapon of choice? A strategic mind and access to one of the best information systems in the world.

Now that it was morning, Nutsbe dressed in sweats and went for his morning jog, waving to Henrietta, who sat in her usual place in the window.

No sign of Olivia.

Home again, showered and dressed in gym gear, he headed into his home office, where he fired up his computer. He had an hour before he needed to get on the road.

After a quick look into the court records, Nutsbe found the outstanding warrant for Pauley's arrest for last night's incident. Check that box.

Mickey Pauley was indeed a cop—surprise, surprise, he worked for the D.C.P.D., so just over the Virginia border, where he held a security clearance and was a sharpshooter when they needed extra eyes on the roofs when foreign dignitaries were visiting.

It looked like Pauley had turned down promotions, stating he liked being out with the public. Nutsbe guessed that, with Olivia's salary, if Pauley liked doing patrol, there was no reason for him to push himself up the ladder. Nutsbe knew cops who liked being right down in it with the community. He also knew cops who liked the physicality of knocking the suspects off their feet.

Yeah, there were a lot of streetfighter moves to Pauley's attack last night.

And here was a long list of complaints for brutality—all dismissed. No mention of Olivia's being involved with his career or working to clear his name from the accusations.

Olivia said she was almost free.

He liked her. More than liked her, Nutsbe couldn't stop thinking about her—a first for him.

Nutsbe just wished they'd known each other a little longer and a little better so he could be a bigger presence in her life between now and that divorce court date without feeling like he was muscling his way into her situation.

Nutsbe's phone pinged with a text.

Covington: They tried to serve Pauley last night at his house. He wasn't there. The server waited at the police station. Pauley didn't show up for his graveyard shift. Keep your head up.

Ping.

Covington: Spoke with Special Agent Kennedy early this a.m. about your arrest. Also made him aware of your name in court records. My office is working on getting you wiped from the police system. Given the circumstances and your clearance level, we should be able to get this done today.

Ping.

Covington: Our AI systems are scanning social media and mainstream media. Since Pauley's paperwork includes the address of the incident along with your name, this could put a bullseye on your house. You'll be kept apprised so you can act accordingly.

Nutsbe:Appreciated.

Before he could lay the phone down, it rang. Kennedy was on the line.

"Nutsbe here."

"Hey, early, sorry, I'm about to jump into a meeting. I talked with Sy Covington this morning. We're grateful to be looped in."

"Yeah," Nutsbe said. "Anything new on your end?"

"There is, actually. We might have found out how Russia got your name."

"Oh?" Nutsbe drew himself up to sit rigidly in his captain's chair.

"A little more digging. And if we're right, that's not information we can share over an open line. Even if Iniquus encrypts all communications, there are still people out there with the technology to sniff the air. And someone could have followed you from the police station last night to get close enough to do just that. Are you still at home?"

"I'm leaving here for a meeting in a few minutes. I'm not sure I'll be at Iniquus today. Listen, my neighbor drove me home from the police station last night. A couple times, I thought someone might have been following us."

"To your neighborhood?" Kennedy asked.

"Hard to tell on a rainy night. If someone followed us, they had skills, maybe a team."

"Russia wouldn't know you were at the police station, not yet."

"That's what I keep telling myself." Cold tingled over Nutsbe's scalp when he said that. It was the feeling he got when he tried to blow sunshine at a situation that didn't warrant positive thoughts. "I hope it's just a dose of paranoia sauce," he added lamely.

"It's to be expected," Kennedy said. "You know how to get me if you need anything."

***

Sitting on the faux leather bench, Nutsbe ate a breakfast sandwich and waited on Marvin.

Gadgets and parts filled the office. Paused projects littered the tables. It looked like a mad scientist's playroom. Marvin was a robotics engineer who teamed up with a reconstructive surgeon and an orthopedic surgeon to develop the protocol for osseointegration surgery, implanting hardware directly into the bone so an amputee could easily attach their prosthetic legs. The cool thing about their team was that it included a neurologist, kinesiologist, and a software engineer who specialized in AI.

Years ago, hoping their research could benefit soldiers injured on the battlefield, the working group went to Afghanistan to see the injuries as they presented when the PJs climbed out of the heli with the soldiers. They were touring the combat surgical hospital where Nutsbe's rescue helicopter landed. And that team performed Nutsbe's operation. They were testing new surgical techniques that preserved as much muscle and nerve tissue as possible, gathering it up at the end of his residual leg so that now, those systems could inform the software in his robotic prostheses through a series of sensors.

That AI system, to Nutsbe's way of thinking, made a world of difference in his recovery and day-to-day life. He liked being involved in the research and feeling like he was contributing.

The research was making a difference now as the teams' work was put to use in Ukraine and other turbulent areas.

After Nutsbe had worked through his recovery and had the great good luck of signing on with Iniquus, Nutsbe found himself a few miles from Marvin's research facility. Making it easier for Nutsbe to continue to give his volunteer feedback on the team's continuing efforts.

This morning was Nutsbe's monthly check-in and stint as a lab rat.

Seeing through the open door that Marvin was coming up the hall, Nutsbe shoved the last bite of breakfast in his mouth, wiped his fingers, rolled the papers into a ball, and shot it across the room into the trash.

Marvin stood in the door following the trajectory. "Two points." He held out his hand. "Good?"

"Good enough."

Marvin plopped into his chair and set a pair of lower-limb prostheses on the ground.

Nutsbe lifted his chin toward them. "Fancy."

"Yeah. They got a little imaginative with the airbrushing on the robotics' cover." Marvin moved the limbs over to Nutsbe. "These are loaners. So let's start here." Marvin rubbed his palms back and forth, then set his hands on the chair"s arms. "In the past month, was there anything you decided not to do because of your prostheses?"

"My team was in Estonia and went out on the bogs to walk around."

"Bog walking?" Marvin shook his head incredulously. "Does that come up much?"

"First time," Nutsbe grinned. "I declined."

"I've seen videos of people on the bogs. And falling into the bog ponds. That was probably a good call on your part." He moved the prosthetic legs in front of him. "I don't think they'll help with any bog walking scenarios, but they have updated smart accelerometers we'd like you to try. Also, there are software updates that are supposed to help you with unexpected disturbances you might encounter on your path, making the encounters a smoother, more natural process and, at the same time, increasing your stability."

Nutsbe pulled up his pants legs and exchanged the sets.

"With these," Marvin said, "if something were to hit your leg, it'll lock out parts of the system to help you maintain balance. This could be helpful if, for example, you're lifting weights at the gym or if you're on the mats sparring. It can tell the direction and level of impact. Then the AI system will determine if it's best to stabilize you in an upright position, which is more robotic, or if it's best to allow your body to accept the impact more naturally, perhaps letting you fall."

"Sounds dangerous."

"You have a thought behind that assessment?" Marvin asked.

"Not to say that these things will kill me." Nutsbe kicked them out. "But that's hard to predict."

"With the limbs of my birth, who's to say that my legs will always do the right thing at the right time?" Marvin asked, watching Nutsbe attach the final sensor pads to his thighs. "I could trip in front of traffic tomorrow, get killed by a bus."

"Always sunny, Marvin."

"Here's the thing, you may never know that it was put into play. It might keep you upright when you would otherwise have fallen. We hope you'll find that it will help you navigate sudden impact."

"It's a trust issue. I'll try them out and give you my opinion—see if my confidence in the system grows with use. If I had them last night, I'd already have feedback for you."

"Last night?" Marvin leaned back in his chair. "Is it work or is this something you can share?"

"Someone was up to no good in my neighbor's yard. We had a few words. It ended in a fight."

Marvin did a quick scan of Nutsbe. "You don't look worse for wear."

"There was a lot of ducking and weaving on wet grass. He was kicking at my legs, and I was trying to stay out of range. That kind of agility, that's the kind of thing this helps with, right? Stabilization in sub-optimal conditions?"

"In theory." Marvin frowned. "And your stability?"

"About as good as the assailant's. We were in a backyard where things were spongy—not bog spongy, mind you. And once this got ramped up, there was a lot of mud."

"You were wearing boots?" Marvin asked.

"Tennis shoes. So I had traction on the sole."

Marvin lifted one of Nutsbe's lower leg bionics to look it over when Nutsbe's phone sounded with the Cerberus tone. "Let me get this. It's work." He swiped the call open. "Nutsbe here."

"Bob here. Olivia's office called. She's in court, and Candace is pulling the flu symptoms again and wants the office to let the judge know."

"Where does that leave us?" Nutsbe asked.

"You're on the way between Iniquus and Candace's. I could get Beowolf to you in about ten minutes. And you could go over there and help Candace to feel safe."

Nutsbe's throat constricted. "Is she crying?"

"Olivia mentioned panic, not sobbing. Even if Candace is wearing a kryptonite necklace, you need to suck it up, butter cup." Bob chuckled. "Candace needs you."

Nutsbe's whole muscular system clenched, and he arched back. "Okay, let me get changed into my suit." He turned to the door where he'd hung his bag. "I can dress and meet you downstairs. You can switch Beowolf to my vehicle. I can grab my go bag and paperwork and head over to her house."

"That's the plan. See you in about twenty."

Nutsbe put his phone beside him on the bench. "Sorry. We have a client that needs assistance. I'm going to have to come back and try your new system for you another time. How about I call tomorrow and check your schedule?"

"Why don't you keep those and leave me these?" Marvin pointed at the prostheses Nutsbe had worn in. "I'd like to check them out and see how well they stood up to that fight. Check the data on the chip. That's real data that we can only try to simulate here. And it's important stuff. We want soldiers who want to return to the battle to have the opportunity."

Nutsbe stood to retrieve the garment bag. "Yeah, did you see in the paper that the Army appointed their first double amputee to serve as a garrison commander?"

"Really?" Marvin sent him a grin. "Good stuff. Now that's what I'm talkin' about." Marvin pointed toward Nutsbe. "You shouldn't feel any difference in your normal day-to-day. The system would kick in under some of the more extreme events you might get caught up in."

Nutsbe tucked the bag over his arm and reached for his phone on the bench. "Extreme, like what?"

"Beyond bog walking?" Marvin asked. "I don't know what the hell you guys are up to at Iniquus."