by Gini Koch
“I’m not sure.” We finally reached the limo. Against all the odds, Len had found a street without any cars on it. “Please check the car before we get into it,” Oliver said to Len.
“Why?” Len asked.
“You shouldn’t have left it out of your control.”
I coughed. “They’re special cars.”
“Yes, but even the most advanced car can be tampered with if it’s left unattended.”
Len looked like he felt he was flunking his first assignment. “Len, it’s fine.”
Kyle looked worried. “Not if there’s something wrong. Mister Reynolds will be furious.”
“Dudes, seriously, we leave the limos unattended all the time. But if you have some special way of checking for car bombs, let’s be paranoid. Chuckie will be happy if we find a bomb, in that sense, and pleased with your precautionary instincts if we don’t. Win-win all the way around.”
The SUV we’d been in for a big battle during Operation Fugly had been tampered with. By an A-C. I’d learned early on that we couldn’t really trust anyone and were probably not safe when we thought we were. While Len and Kyle made a couple of phone calls, I did what Reader wanted. I thought. The first thought that came to mind was that ACE had clearly allowed Jamie to share that she liked Oliver. Meaning, there was a reason ACE felt Oliver should be with us right now.
I looked up and down the street. “Why are we the only car on this street?”
“A good question,” Oliver said. He sounded like he thought it was not only good, but that it had occurred to him, too, and he didn’t like his conclusion. I was with him.
“We weren’t when I parked it,” Len said. “Two cars pulled out while I was cruising around, so I took advantage of the opportunity.” He and Kyle exchanged a look. “I think we might want to move away from the limo.”
I did a fast inventory. I had Jamie, my purse, the stroller, and her diaper bag. I didn’t think we had anything of importance in the trunk, and the boys hadn’t brought any paraphernalia with them that wasn’t on their persons. “What about Jamie’s car seat?”
“If I were planting a bomb that wasn’t set to go off when the car started,” Oliver said quickly, as Kyle moved to open the door, “I’d absolutely figure the new mother would want her baby’s car seat.”
Kyle’s hand froze. “That makes sense to me. You think Kitty’s the target? Or the baby?” He growled this last question. I liked overprotectiveness toward my child from our new bodyguard.
“As I already told your superior, I don’t know who the target is. However, Missus Martini is on the guest list for the President’s Ball, ergo, she’s a potential target.” I realized we weren’t even pretending that Chuckie was just a globetrotting millionaire playboy, nor were we pretending that Len and Kyle were merely along for the ride. Under the circumstances, I decided to table my worry about our lack of good security procedures and just accept that Oliver clearly knew all about us. No one believed him other than us, so really, it was back to the bigger issues for me, like getting away from a potentially rigged limousine.
We quickly moved our little group across the street and back down the block. “I’m not that new a mother anymore,” I mentioned to Oliver as I took Jamie out of the stroller and held her tightly.
“Three months is still new,” he said with a smile. “How long for the bomb squad?”
“Not too much longer,” Kyle said shortly. He and Len were busy looking all around. We weren’t exactly being subtle, but no one really seemed to be around to notice.
I dug my phone out of my purse. Jeff answered immediately. “What’s going on? Reynolds has been making urgent calls for the past few minutes and his stress is off the charts.”
“There’s been a lot of that today. Your blocks okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m concerned about my wife and child.”
“We’re fine, as far as we know. We’re with our personal paparazzo. Len found a too-convenient parking place and we’re all waiting for some folks to come and let us know if our limo’s been rigged or not.”
“Reynolds says his people will be there in another minute. How far from the limo are you all?”
“We can still see it.”
“Get farther away.”
“Jeff, really—”
I was going to tell him he was overreacting. Only the limo exploded before I could finish my sentence.
CHAPTER 10
LEN AND KYLE LEAPED TO COVER ME AND JAMIE. Mr. Joel Oliver leaped and hit the Laser Shield button on the stroller. I felt it activate as I lost my balance, what with two big guys trying to protect the loose footballs that were me and Jamie.
Oliver grabbed me and held on, keeping me somewhat upright and his hand on the stroller. The boys were touching me, and because my vision was now A-C enhanced, I saw the shield go around all of us.
Just in time. Jeff had been right, we’d been too close to the limo, and a twisted piece of metal slammed against the shield and fell to the street.
“Everyone okay?” I asked as I checked Jamie. She gurgled at me, looked at Oliver, and smiled at him. “And yes, thank you, Mister Joel Oliver, for saving our lives.”
He looked shaken. “I’m concerned I endangered them in the first place.”
“You think that bomb was intended for you?” Kyle asked as he and Len tried to act like they weren’t completely freaked out, with limited success.
“I think it’s possible.”
“It was our limo that had the convenient parking place on the suddenly cleared out street,” I reminded him. Oliver didn’t look convinced one way or the other. I heard someone shouting faintly. I looked around, realized I’d dropped my phone. Len handed it to me. “Jeff, we’re okay.”
“We’re on our way.” He sounded completely shaken. I couldn’t blame him. “Baby, are you and Jamie really all right?”
“Completely unscathed, though scathing would probably have happened to the boys if not for Mister Joel Oliver.”
“The jocks covered you?”
“Yes. They acted just like Secret Service.” Len and Kyle perked up a little. “Chuckie’s people aren’t going to have a lot to look at.”
“They’re not there yet?”
“No. Probably a good thing. The bomb must have been on a timer, not an ignition switch.”
Everyone looked at me. Oliver nodded his head. “I delayed you.”
“Yeah, you did. And if you hadn’t…” I counted in my head. “We’d have been home, or close to it.”
Len was squinting at the remains of our ride. “I think the bomb was in the middle of the car.”
“So it was in the car seat.” Oliver and I looked at each other.
Jeff was growling, well past “rabid dog,” already at “enraged bear,” with “lion takes over the veldt” on the horizon. “They tried to kill my daughter?”
“We don’t know who ‘they’ are, but I think they wanted to ensure we’d have the bomb with us.” I checked my watch. “Did Chuckie order the really slow bomb service?”
“No. There’s some accident on the Beltway, and there’s street construction stopping them. It’s stopping us, too. I could get to you on foot but Reynolds is saying no.”
“He’s right. For all we know, whoever did this is trying to flush you out.” I looked around. People were starting to come out of the buildings, and I heard sirens in the distance. “Jeff, do we want to be questioned by the police? If they ever get here, that is.” I was used to faster response times in Pueblo Caliente. And every other city we’d ever had a situation like this in, which were, by now, plentiful.
I heard him talking to someone. “Reynolds is against it. So is James. Can you hyperspeed out of there?”
“Jeff, I’m with Mister Joel Oliver.” I also didn’t want to test my hyperspeed control when I had Jamie, not to mention the others. I’d hit a couple of walls already, and while I had the snazzy fast A-C healing, it still hurt like hell. Now wasn’t the time to slam other people into brick, let al
one risk my daughter.
“I don’t care anymore. I want you and Jamie back in the Embassy where it’s safe.”
“Wouldn’t have been safe if we’d brought that bomb back with us.”
“Good point. Look, get out of there. That’s the overriding direction from me, Reynolds, and all of Alpha Team.”
It was odd to hear that directive and not be one of the people making the decision. However, now wasn’t the time for sulking. Now was the time for speedy casual walking—people on the streets were starting to notice us, particularly because there was car debris right where we were standing. “Dudes, we need to get our little flock out of this part of Dodge. MJO, you have a ride we can borrow?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think we want to take the chance.”
“Public transpo it is. Jeff, tell Chuckie his people should carefully find Mister Joel Oliver’s car and check it out, too, just to be safe.”
“Fine, where should we meet you?”
“Go back to the Embassy. Send a team or two to check out the remains and protect Chuckie’s people. We’re going to do what normal people do and take the bus.” We headed off at a much faster stroll than we’d used to get here.
“Stay on the phone with me.”
“I kind of have my hands full.” I tried to send an emotional signal that I didn’t want to have to share more with Oliver than I had to. I wasn’t sure if I was doing it right—exploding cars tended to shake me up for some reason.
Jeff sighed. “Got it. I understand, you don’t want to give away more than we already have to the so-called journalist.”
“You mean the guy who’s clearly right?”
“Yes, yes, Reynolds seems to think he’s worth listening to.”
“He’s the reason we’re alive.”
“Fine, fine. I hate this,” he muttered.
“I know. Me too.” It wasn’t the danger. It was the fact that we weren’t able to do what we both wanted. In the good old days of three months ago, Jeff would already be here, our people would be cleaning up the scene, and we’d be off kicking butt and taking names. Now? Now we had to play pretend because there were a lot of people hiding in the shadows in D.C., literally and figuratively, and Jeff and I were no longer shadowy figures working in the background—we were the faces of American Centaurion.
“I love you, baby. Be careful.”
“I love you, too, and we will be.” We hung up, and I took a deep breath. “Do you boys know where a bus stop is?”
“Really? We’re taking the bus?” Kyle sounded shocked.
“I have no better plan for how we’re going to get back to the Embassy.”
“Taxi?” Len suggested.
Oliver and I exchanged another look. “Do you want to do the honors or shall I?” he asked politely.
“I’ll cover it. Dudes, you know all those conspiracy theories Chuckie undoubtedly drilled you on?” The boys nodded. “He’s never wrong. So whatever he told you about exists, and therefore all the techniques to avoid capture he likely taught you need to be something you’re taking very seriously. Also, someone’s just tried to kill us. They either used a timer or they were watching us and decided we were clued in, hit the super-duper send button, and gave us a big, noisy message. In case the latter option is what’s going on, the next assumption you make is that any taxi stopping for you is driven by one of the bad guys.”
“Like in the movies?” Len asked skeptically.
“Just like. In all my time with American Centaurion, though, I’ve never, ever seen anyone take a bus. Ipso facto, we take a bus, we’re reasonably safe.”
The boys didn’t look convinced, but they didn’t argue, either. Len pulled up the bus routes on his cell phone and we walked on.
“We’re a few blocks away from a bus stop,” Len said uncertainly. “But I don’t think it’s a route that’ll take us back to the Embassy.”
He showed his phone to me. “Dude, I’m clueless here, still. The streets confuse the hell out of me.” They did. Pueblo Caliente, Arizona, where I’d been born and raised, was set up on a nice grid system. It made the streets less “interesting,” but it was hard to get lost there.
D.C., on the other hand, seemed to live for winding streets that turned into circular turns and ended up dead-ending when you’d swear they should take you somewhere. I could no more look at the bus routes Len was showing me and know which line we needed than I could design a rocket ship. I’d probably have better luck with the rocket.
Oliver took a look. “He’s correct. Though we can do several transfers.”
I considered this. Taking the bus and going somewhere made sense. Taking the bus and then transferring several times didn’t seem like a way to stay under the radar. “Where would the bus we’re close to take us?”
“One of the nicer shopping districts,” Oliver replied. He looked at Len’s phone again. “I believe the next bus will be arriving right about the time we’ll reach the stop.”
“Super.” I pulled my phone out and dialed. “Hi, Jeff, where are you?”
“Still in the car, heading back to the Embassy. Where are you?”
“Heading to a bus stop. I’m taking the boys and going shopping.”
“Why? You were all almost killed.”
“Yes, but I don’t have anything to wear to the ball. And unless a fairy godmother’s going to show up and turn some fruits, veggies, and unsuspecting rodents into things to wear and ride, I need a dress.”
“True. I just don’t understand why you want to take care of that right now.”
“We’re not conveniently located, buswise. I figured we’d shop, and you could send another car to pick us up.”
Jeff sighed. “Yes, fine.” I heard someone talking in the background. “James wants to know if you’ve come up with anything.”
“Someone doesn’t like us.”
“Other than that. He’s stressing that time is of the essence.”
“No. We haven’t had time to get Mister Joel Oliver’s intel.”
“He’s still with you?”
“Yep. We bonded over exploding vehicles.”
“Fabulous. I’m going to have Gladys track you.” He sighed again. “I mean, I’m going to ask Alpha Team to track you.” I heard the voice in the background again.
“What’s James saying?”
“That I’m allowed to sound like I’m still in charge.” He sounded frustrated, worried, and depressed.
“You are. You always will be, no matter what title you have.”
“I love you. Be careful, buy whatever you like, spend whatever you need. Go to good dress shops.”
I sighed. “I know. I will. When will someone be coming to get us?”
“James says he has that taken care of already. Huh? Oh, he says to take your time.”
“First it’s hurry up, then it’s take my time. A girl could get confused around here.”
“I promise to clear up when to rush and when to hurry later tonight.”
“I love how you think.” We hung up and I gave the boys a bright smile. “Change of plans. We’re going to kill two birds with a pile of gravel. MJO, lucky you, you get to help me find a dress for the President’s Ball.”
He grinned. “I consider it an honor.”
“No photos.”
“Of course not. At least, that you’ll know about.”
We still had a few blocks to walk, and I decided to make the most of the day. I pulled my iPod out and tuned to my Kick Butt Mix. I hadn’t gotten to listen to this frequently over the past few months, but I figured us surviving our limo blowing up was a good reason to give it a whirl. As I clipped the iPod to my jeans, a taxi cruised by. The boys looked at it longingly.
We started off again, and another taxi went past us. Then another. As yet another taxi went by I looked harder. “It’s the same taxi,” I shared, while noting that Chuckie’s conspiracy theories were again being proved true.
“The others behind it have circled the block as well,” Ol
iver said.
The taxis got closer. “Want a ride?” the driver of the first taxi asked. He was wearing a cap and sunglasses, and he had a beard on that looked extremely fake to me.
“Nope.”
“My rates are cheap,” the man said as the other taxis pulled up behind this one. The drivers all looked like they were trying to hide what they really looked like and I was sure this guy was disguising his voice. Not good. “It’s nice and safe in my cab,” he added.
As the sounds of “Animal” by the Neon Trees came on, I made a command decision. Jamie was still in my arms, but I decided keeping her there was probably best. I put my purse around my neck, and ensured I had a good, safe grip on my baby, holding her body against my stomach and her head against my chest, in the age-old “fleeing from the evil overlords” pose so popular with pretty much every mother who’d ever had to run for it with child or children in tow. “Poofies, into Kitty’s purse. Len, take the stroller. Everyone, follow me and stick together.”
“What are we doing?” Kyle asked as the taxi drivers all started to get out of their cars.
“Running like hell for that bus stop.”
CHAPTER 11
I WANTED TO GO TO HYPERSPEED, potential to slam into walls or no, but I didn’t want to lose the boys or Oliver. It was hard to run holding Jamie this way, but that also kept me from hitting the internal hyperspeed button.
“Animal” was an exceptionally good song to run to, so that was a positive. The fact that the men in the taxis were back in their cars and chasing us, however, wasn’t.
Oliver was a good runner. Clearly, being a paparazzo had certain fitness benefits attached to it. The boys had played football for their entire lives, so they were in great shape. And my track skills were constantly being kept up-to-date. We were good. Not able to outrun a car unless I took us all to hyperspeed, but as far as post-graduate track stars, we had a shot for at least the bronze for relay in the Extremely Amateur Olympics.
On the plus side, no one was shooting at us. Either they didn’t have guns, weren’t supposed to kill us, or didn’t want to draw extra attention. I was just happy to have any small favor going for us.
