From A Child's Plate
Chapter Five
The Shadow Operative
Nala's early morning activities test out her soldiering skills; betraying a little of just what goes on when Uncle Elliot is left alone to babysit his favorite little mercenary.
Nala rolled over and slapped off her alarm clock.
"0500 already?"
The young girl hated the bright pink digital clock shaped like a flower and its glowing green digits. With a sigh she slipped from her twin sized canopy bed, padded to a small light on her desk and clicked it on careful to move the switch silently. The room came to life in an eerie wash of red light. Then looking at the glowing face of the military grade watch strapped round her left wrist she snorted.
"0447, stupid digital, pink girly clock you're three and a half minutes fast again."
Once in her bathroom, across the room, she washed her face, brushed her teeth recalling the miserable end to the BBQ the night before. She needed to get to Elliot check on him and get him up and moving but reminded herself to stay calm and stick to the plan she'd laid out the night before after the adults thought she'd fallen asleep. Panicking would only lead to failure. She frowned and stared at her hair. The thick near black mass was the only issue that came between the precocious child and Elliot and ironically the only issue her mother and the much maligned man agreed upon. Elliot loved it. He often brushed it for her when Samantha was away and categorically, with Samantha's support despite the fact that mother or not she refused to manage it, forbade the girl to cut it. Nala and her father both hated the unruly mop and if she had her way she'd be just as bald as Tyson was and very pleased with the look.
"Someday, someday soon you're getting chopped off."
She flipped the mass up and held it out to the sides of her head; stuck out her tongue, rolled her eyes, wrinkled up her pert nose and then dropped the locks back onto her narrow shoulders. Sighing she grabbed her brush and after a half- hearted attempt to pull it through the dark strands she tugged an elastic band onto it and flicked the pony tail.
"Done enough."
Nala checked her watch. 0515, despite the flower clock's error she was right on schedule. Morning hygiene completed she changed from her Barbie pajamas into a pair of black military style cargo pants and a black long sleeved tee shirt. Then she slipped on black socks, laced up her boots, grabbed her faded jungle patterned patrol cap and scrutinized the outfit in her bathroom dressing mirror. Finally after tucking in a wayward bootlace she nodded in approval.
Cap in hand she crossed to her bed and opened up the nightstand drawer. After fishing around far in the back she retrieved a key, slipped it into the map pocket inside of the hat and wedged the treasured cap on top of her head backwards, riding just above the ponytail then squished it around a bit to settle it. Finally she moved to her dresser knelt down, opened the right side bottom drawer and reaching up onto the bottom of the drawer above it removed a thin, flat black canvas case secured there with Velcro. She stowed it in her left side cargo pocket and quickly completed her morning routine by making up her bed with a much hated pink floral comforter and matching frilly pillows; topping the bright affair off with a quartet of frightfully angry stuffed dragons, arranged back to back, watching the four corners of the bedroom. Content, she checked the time again.
"0528 guys." She informed the dragons in a whisper, "Time to move out. Keep a close watch and open comms. And-A-Half out."
Nala doused the lights, moved to the bedroom door and squatted down just below the door knob with her left shoulder against the floral print wall. She placed her right hand on the knob and her left ear against the door and waited patiently while listening. A quick glance at her watch and she nodded to herself.
"0530, Dragon One …executing, ."
Very slowly she turned the knob and peered out into the hallway, first left and then right. It was dark and empty. She rolled out pulling the door closed behind her and began stealthily slipping, at a painfully slow pace, to the right along the hallway wall staying very, very low. Once she reached the main living area she froze and squatted down.
"Shit."
"Dragon one, I have contacts at two-o-clock, obtaining positive I.D."
The smell off coffee wafted from the kitchen. Someone was already awake. Who could it be? The small girl slipped around the corner, low crawled into the family room and hunkered down behind Rios' big chestnut colored recliner. Then she inched across the room using the sofa and coffee table for added cover trying to get a line of sight into the kitchen. It was no good. Without getting closer she couldn't I.D. the tango. She checked her watch and cursed beneath her breath. Time was ticking away. She was about to risk slinking down the three steps into the sunken area of the room and creeping closer when the smell of hot cinnamon buns assailed her nose. Relieved, she smiled.
"Grama Mimi. A friendly. We caught a break."
She took a deep breath and reminded herself to be careful. Caught was caught, be it by a friendly or not.
"Dragon One, contact neutralized."
Turning she retraced her path and halted by the small magazine table that sat beside Rios' chair. After checking her back trail she began to carefully pull the table across the gray carpet toward the double doors leading into Tyson's office staying as low as she could. She centered it in front of the left door and climbed on top. Again she squatted down, her back to the door and observed her surroundings.
The big room was quite dark. The only viable light shone from the outside porch lamp into the entry foyer but failed to make it into the large sunken family room. Nala doubted she'd be able to stay off the security cameras but part of her plan was to try.
"0538… Dragon One. And-A-Half in place and gearing up."
Nala squirmed slightly and retrieved the black case. She pulled the zipper open and set it on the table between her booted feet. Once open she took out a small Mag Lite and clenched it between her teeth. She clicked it on and a narrow beam of red light illuminated her little bag. Next she fetched a lanyard. She clipped it to the case and draped it around her tiny neck. Another time check showed she needed to wait. Finally as the hands clicked in for 0540 she stood, slowly turned and faced the door. Slow was good. Elliot taught her that if she dressed in black and if she moved slowly enough; the cameras just might not pick her up. She couldn't be certain Rios was still asleep, leaving a small chance that her father just might be awake and monitoring the security system from his computer in his bedroom. She pushed aside her concerns and focused.
Salem had walked her through this procedure more times than she could count but she knew that every detail needed to be paid attention to. You never took anything for granted. Complacency killed. She took a small compass free from its Velcro tab in the case pulling gently to mute the tearing sound. Then she slipped it up along the left side of the door frame from about mid-way high and then standing on her toes along the top. Half way across the arrow pegged north in the Mag Lite's beam she froze.
"Gotcha." She muttered around the little light's barrel.
She continued to move the compass to her right until the needle bobbed away from north, then back again, and continuing right watched the needle twitch once more. With the three areas noted in her mind's eye she stuck the compass back in its spot and removed a five-eighths of an inch wide, three and a half inch long, eighth of an inch thick strip of plastic. She studied the three equally spaced, powerful, extra thin magnets fastened flush within it and grinned.
"Blocking strip, so fucking simple." She hissed biting down on the little light.
Then it was back into the case and out came some very tacky putty and a stiff plastic file. Because the sensors sat recessed within the upper door frame and the top of the door itself she'd need the putty to hold the blocking strip in place on the frame over the hidden alarm switch. She put a small pin head sized dollop on each end of the magnetic strip and very carefully, aligning it where her compass had twitched, slipped it between the door frame and the door's top. Then using the file, pressed it into place and held it snug. She tipped her left wrist inward and watched the second hand of the big watch tick by. Fifteen seconds passed and she retracted the file, replaced it in the case and removed a small black box the size of a playing card. She turned it on and held it up near her handiwork. Two red lights appeared proving that she'd successfully fooled the magnetic sensors.
"0545… Dragon one. Alarm one neutralized."
She shut down the device, returned it to the case and climbed slowly from the table. Very carefully she returned it to the exact spot she'd taken it from. Then using the Mag Lite made certain the legs ended up right back in the shallow indentions in the carpet. Satisfied Nala went back to the door smoothing out the table's drag marks as she went.
Back at the objective she knelt down, retrieved her compass and slipped it along the remaining door frame as high as she could reach and then worked the gap between the two heavy oak doors. Midway between the floor and the doorknobs the needle flicked to north. Nala repeated the blocking procedure and then sliding to the left she hunkered down against the wall and re-packed her kit.
"0554… Dragon one. Alarms are clear; preparing to breach on my mark."
Nala took off her cap, took out the key and turned it silently in first the knob and then the dead bolt before replacing it in her cap. Then she watched her watch's hands ticking and at 0459 and a half she stood, turned the knob and slipped silently into the dimly lit room closing and locking the door behind her self. She squatted down, froze against the defeated partition and let her eyes adjust to light.
"0600… breach complete, Dragon One. And-A-Half out." Then grinning wickedly. "Purrr-fect." She whispered stretching the word out, mimicking Salem's syrupy tone when he used that particular trademark saying. "Uncle Elliot you're gonna be so damned proud of me."