by S T Branton
"I don't know about you, kind sir, but I most frequently use my tincture of dissolved troll skin to deal with puncture wounds,” Archie spat. “And that is a slinky."
I shook my head and looked away from Archie. The angry-looking guard in front of me glared at Dog in my arms. Because our tickets listed him as my emotional support animal, security told Archie he wasn't permitted to bring him through the checks. That meant I had to haul him around along with my luggage.
"Do you have any weapons or other dangerous objects on you?" the agent asked me.
"A serape is the perfect versatile clothing piece in case I get a little chilly. The telescoping spoon, I feel, is self-explanatory. Might I say, you have lovely irises in your eyeballs." Archie continued his attempt at being human.
I shook my head and tried to focus on what my agent was asking me.
"I'm sorry. What?" I looked back at the agent.
"Do you have any weapons or other dangerous objects on you?" he repeated.
My mouth went dry, but I reminded myself that Archie had prepared me for this. The penny dipped in pixie tears that was actually a tiny rune sitting in my pocket would stop them from identifying my switchblade and the runes Archie armed me with. But that didn't stop me from worrying they'd catch it. I drew a breath and lugged Dog through the metal detector.
"What if a leak springs up? How exactly do you expect me to effectively deal with a situation like that without duct tape? I think six rolls is conservative,” Archie exclaimed.
"Okay, Archie, I know you're having a good time talking with this charming gentleman, but he needs to do his job, and we have a plane to catch. Why don't you pack everything back into your bag so we can get going?" Ally interceded.
Like always, her charm won out. She managed to sweet-talk Archie out of the grasp of the increasingly suspicious TSA agent. Just like she convinced them not to stare too hard at her "little sister" who was recovering from several reconstructive surgeries and this was her first venture out into public.
"I've never seen an emotional support dog someone has to carry through security," one of the agents said. The derisive tone in his voice was impossible to miss.
"This is how he supports me emotionally," I snapped back.
"How is that?" he needled.
"Taking care of him requires all my focus, so I'm not able to concentrate on the things around me that may lead to anxiety. He gives me a sense of accomplishment and confidence that keeps me even and prevents emotional meltdowns." I was talking right out of my ass, but they seemed to buy it.
"You definitely don't want to see her without him," Archie added. "Her having an anxiety attack is…" he gestured like his head was exploding, "it's bad."
"Yep, so it's better for everyone involved if he keeps on with his highly trained behaviors,” I told them.
Ally rushed us the rest of the way through the security area and to the gate. She dropped into one of the hard plastic chairs and glared at us.
"Are you trying to get added to the no-fly list before you get on a plane? Archie, why the hell did you need a single flip-flop in your luggage?" she asked.
He glared at her. "I have my reasons."
She sighed. "And have you never spoken to a human before? Before me, anyway?"
He gave a half-shrug, unable to deny it. "I'm not good at it."
Two hours later, I sat in my seat while gripping Dog in my lap. A sleep mask acted as my blindfold, and I chewed gum like it was my job.
"Slick?" Ally said from beside me as she lifted my sleep mask away from my eyes. "The little kid across the aisle looks pretty terrified of Dog."
"I don't care. He's here to emotionally support me." I lifted my chin defiantly.
"No, he's not,” she pointed out.
"Shhhh." I widened my eyes and shook my head.
The plane started rolling, and I gripped Dog harder. He gave a wimpy half-growl through his drug-induced stupor, and a flight attendant took a cautious step toward us. The warning from the pilot for all crew to take their seats averted disaster. I dropped my head back against the seat and Ally readjusted my mask. The plane got faster and faster, and the anxiety grew until I felt the ground disappear beneath us. We made it. Barely, but we made it. Now we only had to survive the flight.
Chapter Fifteen
"Who did you say this apartment belongs to?" I asked.
"Flat," Ally corrected. "We're in London, so it's called a flat."
"For something called a flat, it sure seems pretty damn vertical to me." I let out a distinctly unfeminine grunt as I hauled my luggage up another of the narrow steps leading up through the building.
"We're almost there," she told me. "I stayed here one time while on assignment."
"I thought you worked for an online magazine. I didn't think they would send you all the way to London for a project," I said.
"It was a one-time thing. I took someone else's place when they got sick right before the trip. It's a cute place. Kind of cozy for this many people, but we'll make it work." She dragged her bag up another step.
"As long as there are no bones or dissolved corpses, and I have enough room for my lungs to expand with a full breath, I'm good," I told her.
"I really wish I could think you were joking about that," Ally pointed out. "However, in light of recent events, I think I've lost that luxury."
"Well," I made it up another two steps before taking a break, "you still didn't answer my question."
"It belongs to a colleague named Phillip."
"Oooh, Phillip," I teased. Her eyes flickered over to Archie and guilt I didn't really know if I should feel squeezed my heart. "Sorry. It's still a compulsion that comes out now and then."
"It's fine. Phillip is definitely not an oooh. He's…Phillip. But it was nice of him to let us stay here." She looked straight ahead like she hoped if she didn’t discuss the comment any more, it would go away.
"Why did he? I mean, what did you tell him?" Archie asked.
A slight edge to his voice suggested maybe that flicker of guilt was justified.
"I told him I would be here in London for an important assignment and could use a place to crash for a few days," Ally said.
"Did he suggest he come, too?" Archie asked.
She looked at him as we finally made it all the way to the door of the flat.
"Absolutely. He told me to be waiting in a bathtub of tea and he'd bring the crumpets." Ally slung her bag to the foot of the door.
"I don't know what that means," I said.
Ally rolled her eyes and unlocked the door. We dragged ourselves, our bags, and Dog inside and dropped everything, save Dog, on the floor. He ended up draped across a plaid sofa that had enough off-beat personality to make the rest of the surroundings even cooler.
"All right. Let's freshen up and head out," I suggested.
Ally groaned. "Can't we sleep for a little while? That was a million-hour flight."
"And if you had worn a sleep mask and earplugs like I told you to, you would have slept perfectly well through most of it," I pointed out.
"You only slept that well because Dog was crushing you and you had limited air supply." She dropped onto a couch.
"Well, it worked out swimmingly. Come on, we really should get moving. Let's go over the plan one more time. Senator Cabot is staying at the Crepe,” I started.
"The Egg," Ally corrected.
"Damn it. I knew it was a breakfast food." I shook my head.
"It's also called the Gherkin." She took her hair out of its ponytail and casually ran her fingers through the dark strands.
I blinked at her a few times. "Like the tiny pickle?"
"That's not actually its name. It's simply what people call it," she pointed out.
"Oh, my God." I rubbed my temples. "It doesn't matter. It's the big pointy one."
"That looks like a Faberge Egg,” she said.
"Oh. Now that makes sense. Anyway. Cabot is staying in one of the residences that's been converted into a VI
P hotel suite. We'll play the room service gambit.” I pointed at her. “Ally, you’ll be our decoy. You'll dress up as the hotel waitress and move around the hallways, undetected."
"And you will also be undetected because you will be in the food cart," she continued.
"Yes. Then, once we're in, we’ll find a way to convince the powerful world leader she is in danger and needs to trust us—complete strangers with no political ties or law enforcement clearance. Should be fine." I flashed a double thumbs-up.
"It will be," Archie concurred. "It will go exactly like we planned it out. And if it doesn't, we deal with it at that point."
"Do you have anything for me? Fancy weapons? Cool new gadgets? Paper that will automatically convince anyone who looks at it I have authorization to be there and should be trusted?" I asked.
"I’m still not Doctor Who, but I started watching and I think I can rip off some of his little playthings.” Archie nodded optimistically.
"Oh, snap. I totally forgot you watched that show," Ally laughed. "You were such a nerd."
"I was not a nerd! It was compelling storytelling set against a rich tapestry of science-fiction and urban fantasy," I defended.
"Uh-huh. Like those are ever words you would care about using." She shook her head, and another laugh bubbled up.
"I'm thinking about going back to the very beginning of the series. I just got through the eleventh Doctor, and I feel like I might not fully appreciate the story because I don't know the other iterations of him." Archie stared into the distance thoughtfully.
"Tenth Doctor," I corrected. "There are ten."
"Actually, they’re on number thirteen now,” he told me.
"What?" I snapped.
"Ok, before she storms Cardiff and demands restitution, we should go ahead with the plan," Archie announced. "I don't have any fancy new things for you right now, but I'll start working on some. Hopefully, you won’t need any weapons or special gadgets during this phase. Your goal is simply to warn Cabot and get her out of danger."
"All right, let's go," Pip declared enthusiastically.
"Not this time," Archie told her. "You need to stay here."
"But I want to go," the young Lizard Person protested.
"No. We don't know what will happen out there. Besides, we need you to stay here and look after Dog." I gestured at the couch. "Speaking of which."
I reached over to where Dog lay and released the hatch on the barrel around his neck. A bundle of bandages tumbled out and unraveled to reveal Splinter. He lay still for a few seconds while blinking his beady little eyes as he processed what happened, then got up and ran for the kitchen. I had to hand it to him. He had a nose for food.
I grabbed a handful of cereal from a box I found in a cabinet and made a little pile for him. He stuffed a bunch in his cheeks and I funneled the rest into my pocket for him.
"Are you sure I can't come? I would probably fit in the food cart better.” Pip curled up to demonstrate her ability to become compact.
"You probably would. But we don't want to put you in any danger.” I smiled at her, wanting to convince her so we could move on sooner. “Hang out here. If our previous missions are any indication, there will be plenty of excitement to go around.”
My head smashed against the top of the food cart, and my knee bashed up into my chin.
"Ow! What the hell are you doing out there, Ally? Rolling me up and down the stairs?" I hissed.
"Shh," Ally shushed sharply. "Keep it down. People will hear you."
I went silent for a few seconds, then chuckled. "You know, it sure was easy for you to talk your way right into the hotel."
"Is that some sort of veiled ethnic reference?" she asked.
"I'm not sure how it would be,” I pointed out. “Especially since this isn't a hotel, as you reminded me three times on the way over here. I meant you’re too freaking good at this spy stuff."
"It's my calling. Besides, one of the team has to be a people person, considering everyone who meets you wants to punch you. Now, shut up." She pushed the cart a little faster as if to make up for the conversation.
We rolled along for another few minutes. After a strangely disorienting elevator ride, we rolled up to a door. I could see shoes from under the bottom edge of the white cloth covering the food cart. It seemed several security guards were posted outside Cabot's door. That put a bit of a chink in the plan.
"Hello, gentleman. If you'll excuse me," Ally said.
She took a slight step toward the door, but they didn't shift and she stopped.
"No one goes into the Senator's room," one guard informed her.
"Absolutely. I'm so glad to hear she’s well-protected during her visit here. I do need to slip in really fast. In and out." Again she tried to take a step, but these men seemed immune to her sweet talk.
"No one goes into the Senator's room," the guard repeated.
"I'm room service. I want to deliver her order to her," Ally insisted.
"Senator Cabot didn't order anything from room service. There must be a mistake." His voice was getting more aggravated rather than more charmed.
Shit.
"It's no mistake. I don't make mistakes. I'm very good at my job. Actually, I'm very, very good at many things,” she purred.
I rolled my eyes and withheld a gag.
"Get lost before we alert the hotel." The security guard was obviously not impressed.
The cart immediately started rolling.
"Have a nice day, gentlemen,” she snipped.
We rolled for a few minutes, then I heard the heavy thud of a door closing and assumed she brought me into a stairwell.
"What now? They won’t let us in the room," Ally said.
"Now, we try for Plan B."
Chapter Sixteen
"What the fuck are you doing, Slick?" I muttered to myself.
"You can't be serious," Ally said. "You really can't be serious."
"What kind of shit did you get yourself into?" I asked myself.
I wrapped the firehose around my waist another time and tied it as tightly as I could. It didn't feel terribly secure, but that was firehoses for you. Not the best in fashion or personal security devices.
"This is a bad idea," Ally said.
I shrugged and flashed her a smile. "I know. But remember, you’re the one who’s good at charming and sweet-talking. I'm good at bad ideas." I strode over to the side of the building and peered over the edge. Just as quickly, I snapped back and squeezed my eyes shut. "Oh, holy jeebus."
"You look like you need your emotional support animal," Ally quipped.
"I need my emotional support cherry picker and harness. That is really freaking high." I took another look at Ally. She looked terrified. "Don't worry. It'll be fine. Look, I don't even have any helicopters shooting at me or trying to blow me up. I'm already way ahead of the game. It'll be all right. Trust me. Besides, Splinter is back at the flat and is scared of heights. He’d only throw up on me and make my hands slippery."
“Lovely imagery. I trust you. I don’t trust the fact that this plan is based on a stupid movie from the ’90s.”
“Hey,” I shouted. “Die Hard is from the late ’80s. And it’s a classic.”
I gave my best friend a reassuring smile, tugged on the firehose one more time roller coaster belt-style, and climbed onto the edge of the roof. London from above was beautiful, a glittering jewel of lights and sounds. Also, impending death from falling, but no city was immune to that when you stood on the side of a tall building. A gust of wind hit me in the face and I swayed backward, then gripped the stone as hard as I could. Ally gasped.
"Slick, seriously. Get down. There has to be some other way we can do this."
"We already tried the other way. Those security guards won't let anything past them. There's no way we'll get into Cabot's room if you expect to stroll through the door." I closed my eyes and drew in a steeling breath.
"I didn't expect to stroll. I expected to walk in with a respectful
and dignified gait." She swept her hand in front of her to demonstrate how regal she could be.
"The point is, you could stroll, you could stride, you could rhumba. They won’t let you through. We figured out which window is hers. All I have to do is get through it, and I'll be in. Don't worry. Be ready when I call you. It'll be fine. I got this,” I reassured her.
Another gust of wind blew up as I adjusted my position on the edge of the roof. The plan was to ease my way down the side of the building until I came to Cabot's window and get inside. I had absolutely no intention of leaping or swinging around down there. Unfortunately, there's a reason they call them intentions and not blueprints. I was getting into the position to step down off the edge of the roof when an even more intense wind knocked me off balance.
Ally cried out as I toppled off the building and started sliding down the front of it.
"I don't got this," I called up to her.
I held tighter to the firehose and swung my legs forward to plant my boots against the side of the building. The thick rubber soles created traction, and I pressed as hard as I could until I regained control of my movement. Moving them made me spin around, and I caught myself again.
"Are you okay?" Ally called from the roof.
"I got it. Back under control." I looked up and realized she wasn't standing at the edge, looking down at me. "Are you seriously not going to come check on me?"
"Absolutely not. Unless you want my ass tumbling right down after you, it's staying exactly where it is." She sounded even farther away.
"All right, I'm headed down." I stopped myself from committing the grave mistake of looking down again.
The wind was more intense here than it had been on the roof. Either that, or I felt each breeze a little more clearly now that I was dangling out in the open. I gripped the fire hose with both hands as I planted my feet and started working my way down the building. I couldn't believe I was doing this. This was definitely not in my “what I want to be when I grow up” report from my last year in high school.
I concentrated as hard as I could on rappelling down the building. I didn't get the chance to measure the distance from the roof to Cabot's window or the length of the fire hose. I could only hope it was enough to get me there, but not so much that it would be hard to stop. The wind got stronger, and my boots slipped against the glass. My stomach clenched, and I tightened my jaw to help me concentrate. My feet slipped again, and it felt like gravity took hold of me and tried to yank me down.
