Red America: Green Light

Part Five: Diversionary Tactics

"Mommy, look!"

Libby tugged on her mothers sleeve as she saw a window display full of toys, most of which were plush replicas of characters from the cartoon Ursa Major. Lorna rolled her eyes and followed her daughter over to the window. Libby pressed her face against the glass eagerly, leaving momentary smears of condensation where her nose had touched it, and stopped in front of a teddy bear of Vladimir, the title character of the cartoon. She turned and looked up at Lorna hopefully, her big green eyes wide. "Can I have him, please, Mommy? Please?"

"Well... I'm not sure," Lorna said, putting a hand on her chin thoughtfully. "I think we should go and find you a nice t-shirt or a new dress first. We can come back and buy you a Vladimir later, okay?"

"But I want Vladimir now!" Libby said, stamping her foot and pushing her bottom lip out indignantly. Lorna sighed.

"I know you do, honey," she began, hoping against hope that Libby would give up before she did, "but you need new clothes more than you need a new teddy bear. I promise you'll get your Vladimir, but right now I want you to be a good girl for me." Libby opened her mouth to protest, but Lorna cut her off quickly, adding "If you help me find you a new dress, I'll buy you some ice-cream for helping me out." Bribery was something to which she didn't like to resort, but it seemed like the best way to get Libby to behave herself at this point. "And I'll even get you a Sergei as well. How does that sound?"

Libby's eyes lit up, all her anger vanishing in an instant. "You promise?" she asked, wiping at her tear-streaked cheeks with one small hand. Lorna knelt down and finished the job with her handkerchief, cleaning Libby's wet cheeks quickly and efficiently and making sure that she looked as tidy as a three-year-old could look. As she did so, she breathed a silent sigh of relief. Winning an argument with Libby was something she didn't get to do very often, so occasions like this were ones she had learnt to savour. Mentioning a possible purchase of Sergei - Libby's second favourite character from the cartoon, a wolf who was best friends with Vladimir the bear - was almost certainly the factor that had altered the balance to her advantage, but the possibility of ice-cream couldn't have hurt either. Lorna nodded gently to her daughter when she had finished gently smoothing out Libby's wayward curls, pushing them back out of her face so that they did not fall in front of her bright green eyes, and then marked a cross over her chest with a fingertip.

"I promise. Cross my heart," she said, and kissed Libby on the forehead. "Now let's see if we can find you that dress." She took Libby by the hand and led her into the department store, towards the section of the store where the girls' clothing was displayed. Many of the items were marked up at far above Lorna's usual price range - because however much the Soviet government insisted class divides were a thing of the past, there still existed a clear gap between different groups of people - but thanks to the thick wad of notes in her pocket, they were just as accessible as anything else, for which she was grateful. In fact, it was probably the only thing Jim Logan had done for her recently for which she had any real reason to be grateful: she still hadn't forgiven him completely for scaring Libby so badly, after all. Suppressing a sigh, she walked over to where the dresses were hanging and gestured at them with her free hand. "Which would you like, sweetheart? You can have whichever one you want today."

Libby looked at the rows of dresses thoughtfully for a second, and then abruptly squealed with delight. Pulling free of her mother's hand, she ran over to a line of brightly coloured, short-sleeved blue dresses, their hemlines decorated with a single red line. Lorna thought they looked a little plain, but Libby was clearly enchanted, and pointed at them excitedly. "Look at those!" she squeaked, her excitement almost getting the better of her. "They're so pretty! Can I have one of those, please, Mommy?"

Lorna smiled, ruffling Libby's hair gently. "Sure, honey. Let me just find one in your size, and we can go pay for it." She flipped through the line of dresses as they hung on the rack, looking for one which was as close to Libby's measurements as she could find. When she had picked one out, she lifted it from the rack, took Libby by the hand again, and walked over to the nearest till, joining the small queue and readying a small handful of notes. When she had paid for the dress and had it folded and put into a bag for her, she took Libby by the hand and led her back to where the plush toys were on display, knowing that Libby would start crowing for them sooner rather than later if she didn't do this for herself. She smiled when Libby ran towards them and scooped up two Vladimir and Sergei bears, before running back to her with one under each small arm, her green eyes wide with anticipation. "So you found what you really wanted, huh?" she asked, briefly wondering if Libby's unusual enthusiasm about the dress had just been a way of skipping straight to the bears and the ice cream. She shook her head for a second, knowing that though Libby could be as manipulative as any other three-year-old, she was rarely inclined to pull that kind of trick when clothes were involved. In that respect, Lorna knew, she was just like her mother.

"Mommy! I like my dress!" Libby replied, as if to confirm that her intentions had been pure. Then she smiled, hugging the bears to herself. "But I like my Vladimir and Sergei too."

"Well, I guess we'd better go buy them, hadn't we?" Lorna said, leading Libby over to the nearest checkout before she had a sudden brainwave. She knelt down and said "Would you like to buy them yourself? I have some money here that you can use if you do."

For a moment, Libby looked very surprised, as if she couldn't quite believe what her mother had just said. "Can I, Mommy?"

"Sure. Here you go," Lorna replied, with a small smile. Opening her purse, she drew out a one-hundred rouble note and pressed it into Libby's small hand, before the two of them joined the nearest queue. When they got to the checkout desk, the cashier initially looked at Lorna before she was redirected to look down at Libby, who held out her bears and her money shyly.

"Hi," she said, flushing pink a little. "Can I buy these?"

"Magic word, Libby," Lorna scolded gently.

"Please?" Libby added. The cashier smiled, and took the note from her, opening her till and placing it inside.

"Thank you," she said, smiling at Libby as she handed over a handful of change and bagged up the toys. "Have a nice day, miss."

"Say thank you," Lorna admonished her daughter, who was busily looking into the bag to see whether she could take one of the toys out. Libby flushed pink again, and mumbled a thank you, which Lorna supposed would have to do. When they were walking away from the till, she said "There. Didn't that make you feel like a big girl?"

"It was fun!" Libby exclaimed, beaming. "Can I do it again?"

"Sure, honey," Lorna said. "Would you like to help me get our ice-cream?"

"Yes, please, Mommy!" Libby said eagerly. "Can we get some strawberry?"

"Today you can have whatever you like," Lorna replied, feeling a wonderful sense of liberation just from saying those seven words. Grasping Libby's small hand, she led her towards the elevator that would take them to the top level of the store, and the restaurant that was situated there. "Come on - let's go get that ice-cream."

When Libby had asked for their order, Lorna put the bowls on a tray and found a table close to the toilets. She knew Libby would probably need to go soon, given her daughters past track record, so she decided it was better to be safe than sorry. When she and Libby had sat down, she tucked into her portion and felt the explosion of rich, cold flavour spreading itself through her mouth. This was luxury, she decided and seeing as there was precious little of that to be found elsewhere, she was going to savour every last mouthful. It was only when she had put down her spoon after her last mouthful that she felt her enjoyment of the moment shatter like glass on concrete.

"Hey, darlin'," came a voice that she had hoped she wouldn't hear for a good while yet. Jim Logan stepped around her table and planted himself in the seat directly opposite her, right next to where Libby was sitting, her face smeared with pink ice cream.

"Uncle Jim!" she cried as she noticed him, and reached over to give him a hug. Lorna quickly took hold of her arm and drew her around the table so that she could hold onto her. "Mommy!" she complained in a loud voice. "I want to say hi to Uncle Jim!"

"He's not your Uncle Jim," Lorna admonished her sternly, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on Logan as she spoke, "and I don't want you anywhere near him, do you understand me?" Libby squawked in dismay, but Lorna ignored her. She picked Libby up, despite her struggles, and put her in her lap, lacing her hands together over Libby's stomach. Libby squirmed and grumbled indignantly until she realised that her mother wasn't going to let go, and then sulkily fell silent. "What are you doing here, Jim?" Lorna demanded, her anger almost palpable. "Were you following me the whole time?"

"Not all the way," Logan said, as if he thought that that would make her feel any less disturbed. "I only caught your scent a couple of blocks back -"

Lorna snorted in contempt, cutting him off. "And that makes this any better? What do you want?"

"To apologise again to you and your daughter," Logan replied simply. "And to warn you that the Red Army is goin' to get a lot more serious about those new armoured suits in a very short time. Kitty and Jamie saw them in Central Park, and they were really puttin' those things to the test. Not one of them left that practice without a few chunks knocked out of their suit. I think they're going to get proactive really soon - you might even start seein' those on the streets before too long."

"No offence, Jim, but that's your problem, not mine," Lorna said, her tone flat. "As long as Libby's safe, I don't really care what the Russians do."

"Well, that's just it, isn't it?" Logan replied. "With those things on the streets, nobody's going to be safe. Who knows what they'll start doing?"

Lorna sighed. "Let me say this one more time, Jim, just so you really understand where I'm coming from: your problem, not mine." She kissed Libby on the crown of her head, and gently gave her daughter an encouraging squeeze. "In fact, I think I'll feel a lot safer with those armoured guys pounding a beat in my neighbourhood. What the fuck have you and your gun-nut buddies done for this city except blow it to hell? Why the fuck should I see you as the good guys when all you've done is shoot good people trying to do their jobs, and scare the living shit out of my baby girl? Fuck you, Jim. Fuck you to hell." She pointed towards the entrance of the dining area. "Now get the fuck away from me before I start screaming. I mean it, Jim. Just leave us alone."

"Okay, kid. Okay," Logan said quickly, holding his hands up as if to ward off an attack. "I get the message." He eased himself out of his seat and stood, smoothing out his leather jacket and check shirt, and then put his battered cowboy hat back on. "I'm sorry I scared Libby, and I'm sorry you feel the way you do, but I'm really trying to make this country free again. One day it will be. You'll see." Then he turned on his heel and hurried out, making sure not to catch the eye of the few Red Army personnel that were sat in the restaurant.

"Yeah, and I bet you'll send me the good news via flying pig," Lorna spat sarcastically in his direction as he left. "Asshole."

"Mommy... you said lots of bad words," Libby scolded her, tugging at her clothes and dragging her attention back to where it should have been in the first place. "You shouldn't say those words."

"I shouldn't, should I?" Lorna replied, instantly cheered up. She held her hand up and continued "I think you should give me a spanking for being a bad girl, don't you?" Libby nodded, laughing, and whacked Lorna's hand with her own tiny fingers. Lorna felt the sting in the blow, reflecting again on just how strong Libby was getting as she grew. Briefly, she wondered if perhaps that was a sign of any future mutation, and then decided not to think about that any more if Libby was a mutant, aside from the obvious fact that her hair was green, there was plenty of time to work out what to do about it later. She took a deep breath, ran her hands through her own hair, and then looked down at Libby, smiling broadly. There was only one place she wanted to be right now, and she was fairly sure Libby wouldn't have any objections to going there, either as long as she was given a good motive. "You know, I think we should go home and get Vladimir and Sergei out of their boxes, so that Flossie-Bell can meet her new friends. What do you think?"

"Yay!" Libby hooted, overjoyed, her delicate features flushing with excitement. "Let's go, Mommy!"

"Well, I guess well have to go if it appeals that much," Lorna replied with a chuckle, ruffling her daughters hair gently and lifting her down onto the ground, before she stood up, tucked her t-shirt into her jeans, and carried her tray over to the central collection point. After that, it didn't take much effort for her to get Libby out of the store and into a cab, and from there back to their apartment building. "Keep the change," Lorna told the driver, unrolling another hundred-rouble note from the bundle in her purse and slapping it into his greasy palm. "Go buy yourself an air-freshener."

Taking a few deep breaths to clear her nose of the cabs pungent odour, she picked up her bags with one hand and drew Libby up to the door with the other. Pinned to the outside of the door was a note in her mothers handwriting. Lorna reached up and pulled the note off the door, unfolding it and giving its contents a quick scan. It read Gone shopping. Dinners in the oven, honey. See you later Love, Mom. Lorna raised her eyebrows and then folded the note in half, slipping it into a pocket of her jeans before she opened her door. When she and Libby were back in her apartment, she emptied her hands and went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee, keeping an eye on her daughter as she did so. She watched Libby tearing open the packaging of her new dolls, introducing them excitedly to Flossie-Bell and setting up a miniature tea party with her set of plastic cups. When Lorna had finished making her drink, she went back into the lounge and sat down on her couch, leaning forwards so that she could see what Libby was doing.

"Look, Mommy!" Libby said excitedly, gesturing to where she had arranged her dolls in a circle. "Flossie-Bell and Vladimir really like each other!"

Lorna nodded thoughtfully. "Wow, I guess they do. Can I join in?"

"Sure!" Libby said, moving aside as Lorna sat down beside her and picked up Sergei, walking the toy up to where Libby had placed the other two dolls and picking up a tea-cup so that she could raise it to the dolls mouth.

"Yum!" Lorna said, grinning. "He looks like he's enjoying himself too!" She chuckled as Libby started chattering happily away to herself, patted her daughter gently on the top of her head and then stood up to walk back into the kitchen so that she could put her mug into her sink. As she was doing so, her door reverberated as someone pounded on it heavily, making both Lorna and Libby look around to see exactly who could have made such a noise. "Mom?" Lorna called cautiously. "Is that you?"

"Open the door, citizen!" said a harsh, razor-edged female voice on the other side of the door. "Open the door or we will be forced to break it down. Please do not force us to make that choice - we know you have a young child in there with you, and we do not wish to scare her."

How considerate, Lorna thought sourly. "Okay, I'm just coming!" she called aloud, slipping the door off its chain and opening it wide to reveal four well-armed Soviet soldiers and a black-clad officer with a KGB insignia on the peak of her cap, which she took off and tucked under her arm as she met Lorna's gaze. Lorna felt her stomach turn with instant, ice-cold fear, knowing that Red Army soldiers turning up at her door would have been bad enough, but a KGB officer accompanying them was even worse. "How... how can I help you, ma'am?" she said, trying not to show how afraid she was.

The KGB woman smiled thinly. "I am Major Regan Wyngarde. May I come in?"

"Of course," Lorna said, cold trickles of sweat soaking her t-shirt as she stepped away from the door and gestured for the officer and soldiers to take a seat in her lounge. As she sat down on Lorna's sofa, the KGB officer unbuttoned her greatcoat, and Lorna caught a flash of cobalt-blue steel in a holster at her waist. Libby whimpered as the soldiers gathered around their commander, so Lorna quickly said "Can you give me a second, please? I need to see to my daughter."

Wyngarde spread her hands briefly. "Do what you must," she said. "Despite what you might think, we KGB people aren't entirely without mercy. I can only apologise that we've frightened her." She smiled at Libby, trying to look as friendly as possible. "Hi there," she said, in what Lorna imagined she thought was a kindly tone. "We're just here to see your mom. We'll be gone soon." Uncertainly, Libby looked at her mother with saucer-wide eyes.

"Mommy?" she asked, as if asking for confirmation.

"It's all right, sweetheart," Lorna replied. "The nice lady only wants to ask me some questions. She really won't be here long." She smiled at Libby as warmly as she could, and then moved to pick her up and take her into her bedroom along with her toys, trying to still her quiet shudders of fear by putting Flossie-Bell into her small hands. "Now I want you and Flossie-Bell to sit and play here in your room, and then I'll come and get you when I've finished talking to the nice lady. Can you be a big girl for me, Libby?"

"Yes, Mommy," Libby mumbled, looking at the ground. Lorna tipped her chin up with one hand so that she could meet her daughter's gaze.

"Good girl. Now you go and have fun, honey." Kissing Libby on the forehead again, she hugged her daughter to her and then closed the door. Standing up, Lorna ran her hands through her hair, took a deep breath, and then turned around. "So what can I do for you, ma'am?" she asked as confidently as she could.

"Well now," Wyngarde began, a cobra's smile spreading across her lips. "Let me confirm something first: you are Lorna Dane, are you not?"

Lorna didn't know what this was in aid of, so she decided to play along with whatever game the Soviet officer was playing. "Yes, I am."

"Good. I'd hate to have disturbed you unnecessarily." Wyngarde said, nodding as if she was ticking off a mental checklist. "And you're employed as an... exotic dancer, yes?"

"That's right," Lorna said, feeling a little puzzlement creeping into her thoughts underneath her fear. "Look, whatever you think I might have done, I -"

"You're not the one were concerned about, Miss Dane," Major Wyngarde said, cutting her off abruptly. As she did so, Lorna felt an involuntary shudder of relief run down her spine. "What we're investigating is the fact that you might have important information we require on a known terrorist. What do you know about James Logan?" She smiled coldly again. "Believe me when I say you'd be doing us a tremendous favour if you were to pass on what you know - and the KGB doesn't forget who it owes favours to."

Lorna paused for a moment, thinking about what she ought to say. "I'm sorry, I don't know who you're talking about -" she began.

"Don't test my patience, Lorna," Wyngarde snapped, looking visibly irritated. "We know for a fact that you have had contact with him, so please don't bother trying to deny it. What has he been asking you to do for him?"

"I just pass on information," Lorna said simply. "That's all."

"I see," Wyngarde replied, steepling her gloved fingers. "And how do you obtain this information, may I ask?"

"Russian soldiers tell me things, when they're drunk," Lorna said, deciding to carefully omit the more sordid aspects of her methods. "Jim comes to me every few days so that I can give him what I find out."

"Where does this exchange happen?" Wyngarde asked. "Do you have a set meeting place, or do you choose different places every time?"

Lorna shrugged. "Usually we see each other at the club, after I've finished dancing. Most of the time, I don't really expect to see him, though he just shows up in my dressing room whenever he feels like it."

"That doesn't sound very efficient," Wyngarde said, a little puzzled. "Why would such an accomplished terrorist be so careless?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, ma'am," Lorna replied. "I've never really known how Jim does his business, and I don't want to find out. I have a daughter to think about, you know - it's too dangerous for me to get involved any more than I am already. You understand that, don't you?"

"Yes," Wyngarde said, after a pause. "Yes, I do." Then she crossed her legs and folded her hands around her uppermost knee. "I'll cut to the chase, Miss Dane: the KGB would like you to help us capture James Logan. Your close contact with him is probably our best way to take him off the street."

"Pardon me for saying so, ma'am," Lorna took a deep breath, weighing up how wise it would be to follow through with her question, "but Jim once told me that you captured him once already, and his friends still managed to rescue him. What's to stop them doing it again?"

Wyngarde's eyes narrowed and Lorna was afraid that she might lose her temper, but then she composed herself with some difficulty and said "Yes, he did escape us once, but with your help we can make sure he doesn't do it a second time, and we can stop his terrorist activities once and for all. Are you willing to do help us this?"

"That depends," Lorna said. "If I do this, will you leave my daughter and me alone? Can you guarantee me that Libby will never have to see soldiers in my house again?"

"Anything you want, Miss Dane," Wyngarde said, with a brief shrug.

Lorna paused for a moment, conflicting thoughts racing through her mind. Then she felt her fists clenching, and the right choice forced its way to the front of her mind. "Okay, sure," she said simply. "If it'll keep Libby safe, I'll do whatever you want me to do..."