The Organization (19 page)

“I just…” Charlotte started to say before faltering.  She looked at Harriet and said, “I had a strange conversation with Joanna the other night at work.”

“I see.  So this is coming from Joanna,” Harriet said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What?  No.  She just seemed to think you should–”

“I know perfectly well what she thinks,” Harriet said sharply.

“Okay,” Charlotte replied.  “I'm not trying to cause an argument, Harriet.”

Harriet sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, squeezing the bridge of her nose.  “I know,” she said.

Charlotte said quietly, “I’m just concerned.  I’ve heard a comment here and there, from both Joanna and Daniel, about…”

“About whether I’m committed to the cause?” she asked, looking like she already knew the answer.

Charlotte nodded, and replied, “I don’t think Daniel doubts you.  But Joanna…”

“Charlie,” she said, “You don’t need to worry.  I’m fully aware of what Joanna thinks.  In an organization like ours, there’s always someone who’s pushing for more.  I’m not saying she’s reckless, but there’s a reason why I’m in charge and she isn’t.”

Charlotte glanced at the teacup on the table and wondered if the tea was getting too cold to drink.  She chose her words carefully when she asked, “Have you considered whether there’s room for compromise, just to appease those who want more aggressive action?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.  I don’t need to appease anyone.  They’re a handful of people, at best, and besides, it’s none of your concern.  Stay out of it,” she said, and Charlotte saw the glint of anger in her eyes as her hands went to her hips.

Charlotte considered whether she should back down, but the topic was already raised.  She replied, “Actually, it is my concern.  You’re my concern.  The organization is my concern.  And the Union and North America?  They concern me, too.  It isn’t your cause alone, Harriet.”

Harriet held her gaze before replying, “So is this personal or political?  Is this because I didn’t want you involved, and Joanna did everything she could to make sure you’d be involved?”

Charlotte wasn’t sure, so she didn’t answer.  Instead she said, “I'm not questioning your leadership.”“Of course you are.  I will do whatever it takes.  You haven’t got a clue how difficult it has been to keep the organization on target, trying to get away from the legacy of terrorism.  You’re suggesting I throw that all away and – what exactly would be the shape of this supposed compromise?  You know that when they say more aggressive action, they’re talking about violence, right?  You do realize that?  That they want to blow people up?”

Charlotte opened her mouth to say something before closing it again.

“No.  You didn’t realize,” Harriet said.

“No,” Charlotte said quietly.

“Was that it, then?  Did you get it all off your chest?” she asked.

Feeling properly shamed, Charlotte replied, “I apologize.  Forgive me.”

Harriet let out a long exhalation and her face softened.  Charlotte was surprised at how quickly Harriet could let go of her anger.  “It’s okay.  You didn’t know,” she said.  She picked up her teacup finally and took a sip. 

As Charlotte watched, she thought about how much better it was to be in the warmth of Harriet’s good graces, and how cutting was her wrath.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Joanna slid the digicard across the table.  “0800 hours.”

Charlotte nodded and took the card, putting it into her pocket.  “Same place, same deal?”

“Yes, only Daniel can’t make it this morning.  Think you can handle it yourself?” Joanna spoke quietly even though the café was busy and loud.

“Sure, no problem.”  In a light tone, Charlotte asked, “Where are all our men this morning, anyway?  First, Paul was too busy to join us for tea, and now Daniel is leaving me to fly solo?”

Joanna shrugged and said, “I’ve no idea.  Maybe they’ve all gone off to the salons.”

Charlotte gave a small laugh and said, “Maybe.”  Inside, she felt embarrassment over her own visit to the salons.  She was glad Joanna didn’t know about it.

“Oh, we’ve got a meeting tonight.  2100 hours.  You’re not scheduled to work tonight, are you?”

“No, it’s my night off,” Charlotte replied.  “I can go to the meeting.”

“Good.  I actually do have to work, but maybe you’ll see Daniel and Paul, and you can ask them where they were this morning,” she said.

“I was just curious.  It’s not a big deal.”

“Someone needs to keep our gents in line.  I nominate you,” she replied with a grin.

“Great,” Charlotte said, dryly.

#

Charlotte made her way to the same hotel as last time.  It seemed that one of the clerks at the hotel was a member of the organization, so they didn’t need to worry about raising any suspicions so long as he was on duty.

“I’ve already checked in,” she said to the clerk.  She now knew this to be a code phrase to keep him alerted that a deal was happening.  Apparently, if she didn’t emerge in thirty minutes, he would key into the room.

As her hand reached the door to the hallway, she heard him ask, “Alone today?”

“Yes,” Charlotte said.  She couldn’t remember him having spoken to her before, and for whatever reason it made her feel unnerved.

She reached the hotel room door and knocked.  The same attractive, blonde-haired woman answered the door.

“The world spins…” Charlotte said, waiting for the proper reply.

“Madly on,” the woman replied with a small, easy smile.  Her relaxed demeanor reminded Charlotte of Maggie and this brought a pang to her heart.

Charlotte entered the room and waited awkwardly beside the bed as the supplier fished the bag out of the bathroom.  Having met her several times before, Charlotte felt like they should make small talk, but she didn’t know anything about her.

The supplier brought out a small, canvass bag, the kind that Charlotte associated with grocery shopping since it was the sort of bag that most people used for that purpose.

“Groceries?” Charlotte asked with a grin.

The other woman raised her eyebrows and set the bag on the bed.

Charlotte looked into the top of the bag and, indeed, saw groceries at the top – oranges, three lemons, a package of dried pasta, and some other things.  “I don’t understand,” she said.

“Dump out the bag, Charlie,” she said.

Charlotte froze and asked, “How do you know my name?”

She blinked and replied, “Sorry.  The fellow you’re usually with – he said it once.  I guess I remembered it because, well, I haven’t known a woman called Charlie before.”

“Oh,” Charlotte said, looking at her for a long second as she decided she was telling the truth.

“They’re at the bottom,” the woman said.

“It seems only fair that you should tell me your name too,” Charlotte said, not moving to touch the bag yet.

The woman smiled and said, “Zoe.”  She took a step closer and lifted a necklace out from under her shirt.  On a simple gold chain, she wore a small pendant – a circle with an engraved letter Z.  “Just in case you weren’t sure whether to believe me.”

Charlotte smiled back at her and replied, “Z could stand for anything.”

“Oh, so you know a lot of names beginning with zed?”

“Well, there’s Zachary… Zane…”

“Do I look like a Zachary, or a Zane?” she asked, still smiling.

“Could be a partner.  A son, maybe,” Charlotte replied.  She began to feel like she was standing too close, that their conversation was becoming too friendly, so she added, “Or it could be Z for Zoe.”

“Or even
zed
for Zoe,” the woman replied, and although she was still smiling, they both knew that Charlotte had slipped up and used an Americanism.  Twice.

Charlotte broke eye contact and reached for the bag.  She shook out the contents gently, as to not bruise the produce.  Her breath caught as the last items to tumble out of the bag were two handguns and a box of ammunition.

“I wasn’t expecting this,” Charlotte said, her cheeks flushing.  She was unsettled by the idea of receiving and transporting weapons, and she didn’t even want to think about what they would be used for.  Zoe didn’t say anything in response, so Charlotte continued, “I don’t even know a ballpark figure for what to offer.” 

“5,000 digicredits,” Zoe said quietly.  Charlotte looked up at her and studied her expression.  She added, “It’s a fair price, maybe even on the low side.”

“Okay,” Charlotte replied, and handed her the digicard.  Charlotte didn’t bother to look at the confirmation screen, instead busying herself with carefully repacking the bag so the groceries buried the contraband at the bottom.

Zoe handed Charlotte the digicard back as Charlotte placed the bag on her shoulder.  Zoe said, “A pleasure to see you, as always.”

Charlotte forced a smile and said, “Thanks,” but her entire mood had changed with seeing the nature of the supplies she was picking up.  She headed for the door.

#

Charlotte couldn’t remember the last time she had slept at her own apartment.  Even though it was incredibly late after she finished at the hotel and left the bag and digicard at the designated drop location, she still went to Harriet’s house.  She used her key to enter quietly, slipping off her shoes and setting them down gently just inside the door.  She didn’t dare ask Navigator what time it was for fear that the noise would wake Harriet, but it must have been nearly 1000 hours.

She made her way up to her bedroom and saw that Harriet was asleep.  She unbuttoned her shirt and trousers, and left them in a pile on the floor at the foot of the bed.  She slid into bed behind Harriet and nuzzled her neck, giving her a soft kiss.  She could hear by Harriet’s inhalation that she had woken up and she whispered, “Sorry.  Go back to sleep.”

Harriet’s words were slurred by speech as she asked, “Where have you been?”

Charlotte hesitated before answering, “I had a rendezvous with that supplier near King’s Cross.”

Harriet didn’t respond right away and Charlotte could tell that she was more awake and likely upset to hear she had picked up supplies again. 

Finally Harriet asked, “Everything go all right?”

“Yes,” Charlotte said, “We can talk about it later.”  She didn’t want to start a fight over the contents of the supplies, although she felt a nagging need to tell her.  She rationalized that it could wait until later.  She added, “Listen, there’s a meeting tonight.”

“Hmm, you think I don’t know?” Harriet asked, rolling over to face her.  She kissed Charlotte softly and said, “I’m teasing you, my dear.”

“Oh,” Charlotte replied, her hand going to Harriet’s hip.  “Will you be making an appearance tonight?” she asked cautiously.

“I have some business to take care of… I need to talk with Daniel.  But yes, I’ll be there.  In the back, anyway.”

Charlotte wished she could see Harriet’s eyes but the room was too dark.  “Maybe we could go there together,” she suggested.

“Would you like that, Charlie?”

She lightly brushed her fingers over Harriet’s side.  “Yes,” she replied.  “Very much.”

“All right,” Harriet agreed.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Harriet and Charlotte were clearly mismatched.  Charlotte was comfortable, even perhaps sloppy, in her usual cargo pants and long-sleeved t-shirt, while Harriet looked commanding and put together in her high-heeled boots, pencil skirt, and silk blouse.  Charlotte felt a twinge of self-consciousness at her own inelegance when entering the rear door of 85 Westchester Place, but it turned out there was no one to see them anyway.  They were there nearly an hour before the meeting would start.

Charlotte followed Harriet to the same room where she had seen her before.  “So I guess this is your office?” she asked.

“Yes.  It’s one of them, anyway,” Harriet replied, walking over to her desk.  “Scotch?”

“Sure,” Charlotte replied, helping herself to a seat on the small leather couch.  “So how many offices do you have then?”

Harriet retrieved a couple of glasses and the bottle from a desk drawer.  She poured a generous amount into each glass and brought one over for each of them, sitting down the couch, her legs crossed at her ankles.

Harriet gave her a small, amused smile, perhaps almost secretive, as she finally answered, “I have two offices.”

“Here and at the EBC?” Charlotte asked.

She sipped her drink and replied, “Yes, Charlie.  Why so many questions?”

Charlotte turned her glass in her hands and said, “I’m just trying to picture what it must be like there – that other world that you live in.”

“Hmm,” she said.  “Well, at the EBC, I have a lovely desk…”

“So, same as here?” Charlotte asked, smiling.

“And a private office…”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And I’m surrounded by people, some of whom hang on my every word and seem like they’d be happy to follow me around like puppy dogs…”

Charlotte grinned and said, “So, same as here.”

“And others who seem intimidated, perhaps even scared, and wouldn’t dare cross me for fear of the repercussions.”

Charlotte wanted to repeat ‘Same as here’ and she knew they were both thinking it.  Instead she asked, “Are those two groups mutually exclusive?”

“Probably not,” Harriet replied, looking lost in thought.

Charlotte swirled the scotch around in her glass before she said, “I need to tell you something, Harriet.”

Harriet’s eyes snapped to Charlotte’s as she replied, “I’m listening.”

“The pickup this morning…?” Charlotte began.

“What about it?” she asked.

Charlotte swallowed hard and said, “It was two handguns and some ammo.  Well, and a bunch of groceries, but I’m guessing they were just a cover.”  Charlotte watched her face for a reaction but she was unreadable.

“Which was the drop-off location?” she asked.

Charlotte tried to remember the code name for the street address.  She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking, and then replied, “Sigma.”

Harriet was quiet, staring into her drink.  Finally she said, “Maybe Daniel isn’t as loyal as I thought.”

“What do you mean?”

“He knows I would never have authorized such a pickup.  Medical supplies, identity covers, things that are essential to the cause?  Of course.  But not weapons.”