Miranda reached San Francisco around midnight. She was very tired and very sore. She let the valet park her car and she wearily went into the hotel. She checked in and then followed the bellboy to her room. She barely noticed the suite that looked like a place a princess would stay as she walked in, she just wanted some sleep. She let the bellboy hang up her clothes since he insisted, and after tipping him generously, she collapsed onto the bed, not even bothering to change her clothes, and instantly fell asleep.
Her cell phone woke her. She looked over at the nightstand. The clock read 10:30 a.m. Her purse was on the floor by the bed, so she rolled over and picked the purse up, cussing as she rolled onto her sore arm.
"Hello?" she yawned.
"Good morning detective," she heard.
"Good morning Chief Johnson," she replied.
"I take it you made it to California okay?"
"Yes."
"I happened to watch the news last night, detective. Seems there was a hijacked plane, the same plane you were supposed to be on?"
"Oh?"
"Don't play dumb with me, young lady. You saved them, didn't you? Especially since everyone claimed it was a beautiful brown haired angel," he paused.
"Not sure who you are talking about," she yawned again. "I drove."
"Don't lie to me young lady, what happened?"
"Not much," she sighed. "Just some terrorists wanting to take over the plane. I helped dispatch them, and an officer and a military guy helped too. I didn't do it all, I promise."
"Sure you didn't. Every passenger that was interviewed said that this angel took down all the men, tied them up, even after being shot. Were you shot?"
"Just a scratch," she said, looking at her arm. The blood had soaked through her shirt, but at least it was dry now. It hurt, but she knew she would be okay.
"Detective, what happened to you laying low?"
"I was trying boss, but I couldn't let those terrorists kill everyone on board."
"I know detective, but that was not smart."
"I know sir," she sighed. "Do you still want me here?"
"I do, but please try to lay low from now on, okay?"
"I will, I promise."
"Good girl. Call me after you meet with your contact."
"I will," Miranda replied.
He then hung up, and Miranda shook her head. Worrywart, she thought, as she got up. That was okay, she decided, at least someone worried about her.
She sighed, and climbed out of bed, knowing that feeling sorry for herself wouldn't help any, so she found some clothes, then went and showered, washed her wound, and rebandaged it. She decided for the day, that she would relax and do some sightseeing. She had heard that there were some good museums in town. There was a museum just down the street if she remembered correctly, so she would visit that one first. After breakfast in her room, she walked down to the museum. When she went inside, the first thing she saw was what was to be a big display in the middle of the room. Several empty glass cases sat there, and a big sign read, "Coming soon, the Crown Jewels of Spain." Two men stood by the display cases, whispering. Miranda edged a little closer to hear them while pretending to look at a painting.
"Make sure that there are plenty of guards tonight. We don't want the jewels stolen."
"Yes, sir."
"I want all guards to have I.D. cards; no one gets in and out with one."
"Yes, sir."
Then the two men walked away. Miranda looked at the exits, pondering. Then she looked up and noticed a very large skylight. If someone really wanted to get in, they could do so through the skylight, by repelling down. It was made of glass but separated into triangles big enough for a man to fit in through one, and she figured no one would be guarding that, maybe she would have to help out a little bit, but then again, she was supposed to be laying low. Oh, what the hell, she might as well do her part and save the jewels if someone was thinking of stealing them. Smiling to herself, Miranda toured the rest of the museum, thinking about what she would have to do. Maybe she should inform the police, that way she could see Cole again, but then again, she had no proof that the museum would be robbed. She would just call them if she needed them.
She left the museum a little while later and continued a tour of the city on foot, finding a few things around town that she thought her friends and perhaps her partner back home would like.
At lunch, she found a cute little café that sold French cuisine, and she loved French food, so she went inside. She looked around. The café was decorated with a French theme, and the menu board was in French then in English.
She approached the cashier, a young man, who was eyeing her lustfully. She was dressed in jeans and a tight t-shirt, apparently, he liked that.
"May I help you?" he asked her, eyeing her up and down.
"Do you speak French?" she asked, in French.
He nodded eagerly. So she ordered in French.
"Are you from France?" the young man asked in French.
"Oui, I just moved here, to experience the U.S. It is so exciting," she replied with a heavy French accent.
"If you need someone to show you around the city, I'm your guy," he said, writing on a napkin. He was about to hand it to her when a large hand came out of nowhere and took the napkin, tearing it up. Miranda looked up to see Cole glaring at the young man.
"She is too old for you Brandon," Cole growled at him.
The young man flushed. "But I like older women, and she speaks French. She just moved here from France," he said.
"Oh really," Cole chuckled, looking down at Miranda, "did you now?"
"Oui, sir," she said with her accent.
Cole chuckled. "Well, Miss, might I buy you some lunch?"
"Oui, sir, you are how do they say, so handsome," she smiled up at him.
He chuckled again. "I'll take my usual Brandon, and put her food on my bill."
"Yes, detective," the young man said.
The young man then looked at Miranda. "I'll bring that to you in a few minutes," he promised.
She nodded as Cole led her outside to a table.
"What are you doing here?" he hissed at her as they sat down.
"I told you I was coming to San Francisco."
"Why didn't you stay yesterday? The police needed to question you."
"I couldn't Cole. I can't have my face on the news."
He frowned. "I heard you were running from an ex, is that true?"
She flushed. "Something like that."
"Mandy, you can talk to me, whatever you say won't go past this table, I promise."
"Your food, Miss, and detective," Brandon said, laying two plates on the table, along with two sodas. That was fast.
"Thank you very much," Miranda said with her accent. "I will return here again, soon."
The young man flushed and nodded. "I would like that, have a good day," he said quickly, as Cole glared at him and he hurried away.
"French?"Cole said to Miranda.
She shrugged. "I am a woman of many talents."
He chuckled. "I am sure you are."
She blushed at his innuendo. "Mandy, or is it Wendy?" he asked her then, enjoying making her blush.
She looked up at him as she picked up her fork to eat.
"Wendy?" she asked.
"Your car rental form, it said Wendy."
"Oh, that," she shrugged. "I can't use my real name."
"So you really are running from someone."
She just shrugged.
"The paramedic said you had a wicked wound on your side from your ex, can I see it?"
"Detective," Miranda gasped out, shocked, "we haven't even been out on a date yet."
He had the grace to blush, and she laughed. "I am just kidding."
She lifted her shirt and showed him the scar. He whistled. "That is some scar."
"Yeah."
"It's not recent though."
"No, it's a year old or somewhere around there," she shrugged.
"That guy must be some crazy son of a gun."
"He is," she nodded.
"So, what is your real name?"
"Just call me Mandy, detective."
He nodded. "Very well, Mandy. How is your arm? I assume you didn't stop at the hospital to have it checked out."
"No, but I'm okay," she said, as she ate.
He shook his head. "Let me be the judge of that. I want you to come down to the precinct with me. I have a good first aid kit there, and I need your witness statement about what happened."
She shook her head adamantly. "No, I can't do that detective, give you a statement, I mean. You were there, you saw all that happened."
"No, I didn't see everything. I was in the back when you were taking down the terrorists in the first-class cabin, remember?"
"The pilots must have given their version," she said.
"Oh, they did, but they seemed to have embellished it a bit," he smiled.
"Oh?"
"They claim you ran in with guns blazing, shot the first guy, then took out the other two within mere seconds."
She shrugged.
He frowned. "So it was true?"
"Maybe," she smiled. "I did shoot the first guy because he had a gun pointed at my head. The other two I shot because they had guns pointed at the pilots."
"And here I thought they were lying," he shook his head. He was in serious awe of this woman.
"Who are you?" he asked her "You act like you have the training of an officer or military. You get shot, you don't act like it's a big deal. The stewardess only received a scratch and she passed out from the pain."
"My father was military. He taught me a lot."
"Apparently. Are your parents still alive?"
"They are, but I don't see them very often."
"Sore subject?" he asked, taking her hand in his.
"Just a little," she sighed, taking her hand back to finish her meal.
He sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Mandy, look I really need you to come down and give me at least somewhat of a statement, and please let me look at your arm? I am worried about you."
"Okay," she sighed, giving in. It wouldn't hurt to be with Cole for a while longer. She was really enjoying his company.
He smiled, relieved. "Good," he said, standing, and holding his hand out to her. She took it and stood. He then let go of her hand, making her a little disappointed. "The precinct is just down the street," he said, pointing at a tall building down the street from where they were at. "I eat here a lot, it's one of the better places close by, and then I don't have to drive."
Miranda nodded. He looked down at her, only noticing that her face was rather pale all of a sudden.
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked in concern.
"Yes, my arm is just hurting a bit, and I didn't take anything for pain."
"We have some pain meds at the station, come on," he said, tucking an arm about her waist.
She smiled, not minding at all.
Just then Cole's phone rang. He answered. "Yeah?"
"Detective, we need your help, there's been a kidnapping," came a voice.
"I'll be right there," Cole replied. He hung up and frowned.
"Sorry, I've got to run. I still want you to go to the station though and fill out a statement."
"I will," she said, "but you had better go."
He nodded, looking torn. He kissed her cheek. "I hope to see you again soon." He headed away then stopped and walked back to Miranda. "Can I give you my number?"
She nodded. "I would like that."
She pulled out her phone and he gave her the number. "That's my cell if you need anything," he said.
She nodded. "Thanks, Cole."
"Anytime, and please get your arm looked at?" he pleaded, before hurrying down the street.
"Not," Miranda said, and turning around, she headed down another street. She wanted to wander some more. First, though, she headed to a small pharmacy and bought some bandages and some Advil for the pain. She then did a bit of shopping before heading back to the hotel.
After she got back to the hotel, she took off her shirt, then her bandage and looked at the wound. It seemed to be doing okay. She knew she needed to get it checked out, but she had more important things to do at the moment. She put some medicine on it, then put the clean bandage on, put her shirt back on, then sat on the couch and watched some t.v. She needed a break.
Late that evening after having eaten dinner through room service, she pulled out of her suitcase a black, long sleeve shirt, and black pants. She also had a black wig that she could wear and a black mask. She knew she would need them for her work, so she had packed them. After she was ready, she waited. Adrenaline pumped through her body as she thought of the trouble she was going to cause. But no one would know. At about 11:30 she went down to the lobby and outside. The lobby was quiet, which was good, and the person at the desk was busy playing on their phone, so they didn't see her walk out the door.
When she reached the museum, she wandered to the back, noticing that there were a few cars parked there. She hoped it was museum staff, but more than likely it wasn't. Approaching the vehicles cautiously she noticed no one was inside. She happened to glance up then and noticed men climbing up to the roof on the fire escape. She knew it. She knew that was how they were going to break in. Well, she would have to put a stop to it. She pulled out her mask from her back pocket, put it on, then scaled up the fire escape behind the men, staying quiet, so she would not be spotted, and trying to ignore the pain in her arm as she climbed.
As soon as she reached the top of the stairs, she peeked over the side of the roof and saw men leaning over the skylight. "Come on," she heard one whisper, "they're just putting the stuff in the cases." There were six men she noticed, all dressed in black and in ski masks. They had just broken the skylight and were lowering some men down inside. They weren't paying any attention to anything but getting their guys through the roof, so they didn't spot her, plus she was dressed like them, so that helped.
She snuck up behind the two men that were keeping a hold of the ropes. They didn't even see it coming as she smashed their heads together, rendering them unconscious. In the distance, she heard police sirens, but she didn't think the men had triggered the alarm yet unless there was an alarm on the skylight, which was possible. She peered down through the skylight. The other four men were just opening the cases with the jewels. They had huge black backpacks that they stuffed the jewels into. The guards lay at their feet, either dead or unconscious, she wasn't sure which. "Come on," she heard then, "we need to get out of here before an alarm goes off."
The others nodded and headed back to the ropes. Time to do something. She found out where the ropes were anchored and quickly untied them. She watched as the ropes hit the floor of the museum.
One of the men cursed and looked up. She looked down into the room. "Oops, my bad!" she cackled.
Suddenly she heard loud sirens outside the museum and knew that an alarm had been tripped. She had to get out of there before she was caught. She saw the door burst open and several officers ran into the museum. "Drop it!" she heard. Now was her chance to escape and she had better do it soon because she heard, "You two go check the roof, see if anyone is up there since the skylight is broken."
So, there was an alarm on the skylight, interesting, well, at least the thieves were caught.
Miranda grinned to herself as she jumped over to the next roof, which was only feet away, then scaled down their fire escape. She didn't see the policemen run onto the roof, and look around, wondering who had knocked the two men out. Minutes later she was back in her hotel room, in her pajamas, and in bed. It had been a long day, and it was time for some sleep.