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Making the good girl go bad.

Our security detail comprised a total of thirty men, with Senior Sergeant Itznacoco and me in charge.

For three hours we scoured the streets and retrieved three drunk enlisted, and rescued two Ground Service sublieutenants from the Diamond District. Both officers had been beaten and robbed, but we got them before the locals made sure they disappeared permanently.

When the city bells rang the Eighth Hour, I ordered my driver to take us back to North Temple Square. Following our lead, the other vehicles fanned out and followed. As we pulled in at the entrance to the square, we stopped. It was past sundown, but the square was filled with people and lights. Food vendors, musicians, people talking and milling around for a late bit of shopping.

Pulling out my night glasses, I scanned the area briefly before looking midway up the temple steps. Several Jaguar Warriors in their feathers and jaguar skins appeared and began descending the long steps.

My sergeant's vehicle pulled up next to mine. Standing on the running board, he too scanned around, then focused where I was looking.

Janetta came out at that moment, dressed in white, cuts to her body in several places though none appeared serious. Her hair and much of her front were covered in blood. She held a jaguar skin in one hand as she spoke to no one, staring at the night sky.

Since my arrival, I had picked up a fair amount of Nahuatl. I thought I could make out a couple of words, and then it was like I was hearing her speak next to me.

Yn onihualla tatzin

I have come, my father

Nimic tlan mati

I know the land of the dead

Nito panmati

I know the beyond

yn onechcoc tatzin

I have arrived, my father

Ninahual ocelotl

I am the enchanted jaguar

Tezcat apec

on the mountain of mirrors

Ye nican nontlalpitza

for here I cast my breath

Yehuanti ezcotihuitze

they will come bloodied

Tlapal loti huitze

they will come reddened,

Yn cempopolhuia xitinia

I will completely lay waste to my enemies

Nimo cehuihtoc caxtica mihcai

I am resting in blood of the dead

Yn onihualla tatzin

I have come, my father

Senior Sergeant Itznacoco's voice quietly came over my earpiece. "A looker, but she's dangerous, Lieutenant. I hope this jaunt is because you wanted field experience and not to sightsee."

Before I could respond, he dropped back into his vehicle beside his driver, and his transport sped off.

I watched Janetta for several minutes, but that connection never returned. I returned to my seat and finished the rest of the patrol.

The next night was much of the same sorts of encounters. Drunks and brawlers detained, a few injured that were seen to and either brought back to base or released in less dangerous areas. When we were done, I hurried through the checking-in process, then grabbed a fresh transport and headed over to the hangars on the off chance I'd catch Janetta still there. I made sure my personal radio was off.

I pulled up outside and entered the tall building from the main road. Up ahead, I could hear talking. When I entered the hangar itself, I saw a trainer version of an Itcha Lightning with its engine and avionics opened and four women around it working and talking. A corporal saw me and went, "Hssst! Inbound."

Two others were sergeants. All three enlisted watched me closely. Janetta was in the cockpit, and like the others, in Class B coveralls. When her head popped up, she saw me and her friendly smile turned to a frown. "Kandikan, what are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you," I said. "In private."

"Bugger off, Kandikan. I'm working here."

I pointed to the large Security patch on my shoulder.

"Fine." She climbed out of the cockpit and down the access ladder. Dropping her tools into the toolbox, she pulled a rag from her back pocket and wiped them off as she walked to the hangar office. I followed her.

Once inside, I cl

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