He spun around, studying the area. “These streets all around are too narrow for cars, everyone must walk. If he brought her out here, everyone would recognize the American First Lady,” he said, thinking aloud, and confirming what I thought.
Kevin nodded. “They definitely took her underground. We saw the shoe scrapes.”
“They need a road where they can drive away. The closest street would be…” Dante’s finger wagged as he concentrated. Suddenly he looked at me and grabbed my hand. “I think I know where they are—hurry!”
He pulled me with him. I looked over my shoulder at Sophie and Kevin. “Coming?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Kevin said dryly. He and Sophie stayed close behind as we pushed through the crowds, ignoring stares and curses when we bumped and jostled people out of our way.
My heart ached with Taj’s betrayal. I tried not to think about the clues I’d missed, the plotting and planning that was happening right under my nose.
“Here,” said Dante as we approached a cross street, a narrow one-way lane lined with cars. At the top, at a little distance from the other vehicles, we saw a sleek black van: nondescript, large enough to hold at least five people. The vehicle, unlike the other cars on the street, was occupied. An arm dangled from the driver’s-side window.
We hunkered in a doorway, all mashed together.
“We can take him, there’s four of us,” Kevin whispered.
Finally, all of this adventure had gotten to him and he was thinking he was a superhero. Dante brought him crashing down to reality.
“You can run faster than he can shoot?” Dante asked doubtfully. “No, it’s not safe for Bec and Sophie. We must wait for the polizia.”
The question was, if this was the getaway van for the kidnapping, how could it still be here? Taj left before us … Ah! But he was going underground with a bound prisoner. They’d have to climb ladders and go around fallen walls. Who knew how long that could take? I peeked around the corner again. No way could one of us walk over, check out the situation, and report back to the group. That wouldn’t be suspicious!
But the question remained. If that was the van, what was taking Taj so long? Time was against them, they had to move fast. Soon the whole world would be scouring the country looking for Mrs. Theresa Jennings, American First Lady, political, cultural, and fashion icon, one of the most recognizable women in the world.
He would have to disguise her first, and that would eat up some precious minutes.
“I will call polizia,” said Dante, pulling out his phone and stopping my logic train.
“Hold on,” I said, stilling his hand. “We can’t. If the police get here before Taj he’ll run scared, and we might lose him. I think that Taj might be trying to disguise Mrs. Jennings. Like you said, everyone knows her. The authorities have to be looking for her now. If that van is the getaway car, Taj could be here any second. We don’t have much time. I have an idea. Quick!” I held out my hand. “Give me your phone!”
He passed it to me and I scrolled through the settings.
“I thought you said we weren’t calling the police,” Kevin said.
“I’m not. I’m calling a car.”
“What?” Sophie laughed.
“You wanted me to show you something,” I said, brandishing the phone. “Well, here’s something. Watch this.”
I showed her the settings screen. “First, you put the phone in promiscuous mode.” Sophie raised both red brows. “Not that kind of promiscuous,” I said, scowling. “When your phone is on its normal mode it only gets signals sent to you—texts, e-mails, you know.”
She nodded.
“You put it in promiscuous mode, and it’s open to everything—you pick up all the signals in the area—Internet connections, phones, and cars.”
I flicked my finger across the screen. “And look. Here they are.”
Sophie, and now Kevin and Dante, examined the list of numbers that came up.
“These are the numbers I’ve picked up. The ones with the 00876 prefix are phones. Prefix 0388 are land-based wi-fi connections, like for an apartment or business. And 00271 are cars—we’ve picked up five of those. One of them has to be that van.”
“There’s more than five cars on the block, genius,” Kevin griped.
Holding my temper in check, I replied, “But it looks like only five are newer cars—ones that would have things like satellite radio, a built in GPS—platforms that have to be connected to the Internet. We’re only interested in the van, not the others,”
“So … you’re going to … call the van?” Sophie said, working it out.
“Actually, I’m going to text—but it’s going to be a bit of trial and error. I can’t tell from the list which one is the van.”
I copied the first car number, opened messaging, pasted it in, and tapped in a text. A few feet from us, there was a click.
“What was that?” Dante said.
I sent the text again, and the car, a Fiat, made the sound again. “That was me. I locked the door. Cross that number off the list.”
“That is amazing,” Sophie said with delight.
“I take back what I said.” Kevin shook his head. “You are smart.”
“I’ll try the next one.”
I flashed the lights on a Lancia and rolled down the window of another Fiat. Only two more possibilities.
I sent the text to the next number. The arm dangling out of the van jerked back.
Pay dirt!
We were too far away to hear if the van’s door unlocked, but it was an excellent chance we’d found the right vehicle. To be sure, I made the lights flash on the last number on the list: a Porsche. We were good to go.
“I have the van’s number,” I said.
“Yes!” Kevin, Dante, and Sophie whispered, but then they turned to me. “Now what?”
“Watch.”
I fired off a string of text messages, one after the other.
Passenger window down.
Headlights on.
Headlights off.
Headlights on.
Wipers on.
Lock doors.
Unlock doors.
I could see the head of the person in the van dart this way and that—he had no idea what was happening.
“And now, for the grand finale.”
The van’s horn blared out. Kevin shook his head and Dante laughed.
“Wait for it,” I said as I hit send.
The horn sounded again. And again. And again and again and again.
“Oh my God, what did you do?” Sophie put her hand over her mouth.
“I told the horn to beep fifty times. Now, if I were him I would…”
Yes! He got out of the car and opened the hood. The beeping continued.
“Dante, I think you and I should help him out,” said Kevin. “You up for it?” He flexed his appreciable biceps.
“Yes!” Dante replied, his face stony.
“Just make sure it’s the right guy!” I warned.
Kevin nodded meaningfully, then he and Dante casually walked into the street and started making their way toward the van. His head under the hood, the driver didn’t see them coming. When they reached the bumper, I grabbed Sophie’s arm and tugged her along. The van was parked right in front of a manhole. So far everything added up: sole van on the street, manhole for access, only street wide enough for cars and vans.
We came around just in time to see that, yes, this was Taj’s accomplice—and even better, to see Dante grab him from behind so that Kevin could deliver a stunning blow to his jaw, knocking him out cold. Kevin yelped and shook his fist.
Dante clapped him on the shoulder. “Buono!”
“Quick, get him inside!” I urged, looking around to see if anyone had witnessed our assault or was coming to check on the blaring horn. I didn’t think so. Up to now, my plan was working, my guesses were good.
Sophie slammed the hood shut, and I texted the van to stop the horn.
Throwing open the van’s back door,
Kevin and Dante shoved Luca in, and Sophie and I tied him up with rope that was probably intended for the First Lady. There were also some zip ties, chloroform—no doubt in case she got feisty or noisy—and a blindfold, which I used to gag him. A deep breath and I was feeling better about the situation. We had taken a chance, and now all the kidnapping supplies that no normal person carried were proof that we had in fact nabbed Luca and not mistakenly attacked some poor working guy on his lunch break.
“Dante, you have to drive, you know Rome better than any of us.” I peeled the knit cap off Luca’s head. “Put this on quick, and hide your hair.” I threw the cap to him and he pulled it on, tucking up his pale mane. Dante was bigger than Luca, but hopefully Taj and Ortiz wouldn’t notice that until it was too late.
I slid the door closed while Kevin settled next to Sophie. Luca lay immobile between us. Kevin looked thoughtful.
“You were able to control that car with your phone,” he said. “And get out of zip ties. You’re … a hacker.”
And the train finally pulls into the station, Kev.
He gave me a frosty glare. “My credit card and bank account. Was that you?”
Okay, maybe he wasn’t that slow. But I did have something on my side this time—the truth.
I shook my head. “Not me—but maybe you can ask Taj about it when he shows up.”
He smiled evilly and cracked his knuckles. “Nice to know.”
TRICKS AND TIPS FOR THE EDGE-Y GIRL
“Semper ubi sububi.” That’s Latin for “always wear underwear.” Wise words! And make sure yours is clean and pretty!
30
On Dante’s phone, mine bugged. On Via di Panico, 1 way. Keep u posted. B
I hit send with shaking hands. The adrenaline was really pumping, and waiting for Taj was making me and the others, jumpy. This could work—or it could fail on an epic level.
A second later, a reply came back.
Why r u there? Know where TJ is?
I replied Maybe and hit send.
There was no time for a long explanation. I put Dante’s phone in my pocket just as it buzzed again—possibly a reply from Candace. Quickly I pulled the battery from my phone—just in case Taj could track my movements. If I had any luck, he hadn’t noticed that I’d already moved from the stone room. Besides, Candace couldn’t send a rescue team before we got Mrs. Jennings.
We all heard the unmistakable grind of metal on asphalt. Someone was moving the manhole cover. Luca, now somewhat revived, writhed in his bonds, trying to rock the van to warn Taj, but Sophie plopped on his chest, knocking the wind—and the fight—out of him.
“Get ready,” I whispered to Dante from the back. “Keep your head down a little, okay?”
He nodded and gripped the steering wheel. My heart pounded in my chest as I heard grunts and then footsteps and muffled voices.
The back door of the van opened, hinges creaking. At first, all I saw was Mrs. Jennings in a red wig—and she saw us. Her eyes went wide with surprise. Kevin leaned forward quickly and yanked her inside, leaving an astonished Taj alone at the bumper.
Taj tried to lunge into the back of the van. That’s when I delivered the most bone-bruising side kick—the only thing I ever learned in tae kwon do—to his midsection. He oomphed as the air rushed out of his lungs and the force of the kick ejected him from the van. He stumbled back, slamming into Ortiz, who’d just climbed up into the street.
“Aahhhh!” she cried, and, pitching backward, fell into the manhole like a well-struck golf ball. Score!
Taj scrambled to his feet.
“You should’ve had a plan B,” I yelled as I slammed the door shut. “Go!” I screamed at Dante.
I thought I heard Taj screaming and rose onto my knees to peek out the window when I was forced back down.
“What if he has a gun? Do you want to get shot?” cried Kevin as he yanked me away from the window.
Tires squealed as the van fishtailed, trying to get a grip on the uneven cobbles. With a lurch and a jerk, Dante pulled into the street and zoomed away.
Suddenly I remembered—
“Plan B! GPS!” I turned to Mrs. Jennings. “Taj put a GPS on you before. He might have done it again. I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’re going to have to … um … take your clothes off. I mean, if they bugged you—”
“I’m so glad to see all of you unharmed, but this is dangerous. Call the Secret Service!” Mrs. Jennings urged, relief etched on her face, smudged with dirt.
“I’ve already let Candace know where we were, and I’ll call her again,” I promised as I worked off her zip ties, “but if there’s a GPS on your clothes we have to get rid of it. Even if Taj can’t chase us, we don’t know if he has others who can. Hurry, please, Mrs. Jennings.” I tugged off her wig.
Kevin’s face went as red as a tomato as she started to unbutton her skirt. I guess it was one thing for professional models to strut around almost naked and another thing to see the First lady in her lingerie.
“Close your eyes, Kevin,” Sophie advised.
He nodded awkwardly but first helped us roll the tied-up creep against the side wall of the van. Kevin held him there with his back to the First Lady so she could undress with a little dignity—as much as she could get in the back of a cramped and speeding vehicle.
After hesitating for a fraction of a second, she kicked off her shoes, took off her jacket, and shimmied out of her dress, sitting there like a Victoria’s Secret model in her matching sea green bra and underwear. Sophie passed the clothing to me and I handed them and the wig to Dante, who threw them out the window as he careened around corners. Bye bye one-of-a-kind suit, now probably worth millions because of the action it’d seen.
I had no idea where Dante was going, but he’d proven himself to be a good spy-in-training, dodging cars, people, and Vespas as he drove. I risked a peek in the rearview mirror. No one seemed to be following us.
Yet.
Reaching over, I poked Kevin in the shoulder. “Don’t turn around. Just give me your shirt and pants, please.”
“What?!” He tried to twist toward me, but Sophie clutched his head tightly and forced him to remain facing forward.
“You’re not going to make Mrs. Jennings walk around naked, are you?” Sophie demanded.
A huge defeated sigh escaped from him. “Fine.” He started unbuttoning.“I hope people realize what a patriot I am when this is over!”
“Think of the fame and job offers,” I said.
After an awkward face-plant on the side of the van from a quick right swerve, he handed over the shirt and pants—both filthy from our sewer run. I tried not to look at his toned body—for Sophie’s sake—and helped Mrs. Jennings put on the too-big clothes.
Once the First Lady was buttoned up, I pulled out Dante’s phone.
Report! NOW!
I texted Candace back.
We have her! Will turn on GPS so you can follow.
I changed the settings on Dante’s phone. Seconds passed and I got a reply.
Tracking u. Police will follow soon. Go to hotel if u can.
“Hotel Beatrici!” I yelled to Dante.
He took a really sharp left turn, throwing all of us in the back across the van and slamming us painfully into the side. I think my knee ended up in Luca’s ribcage. Pity.
“Hey, Mario Andretti! Take it easy!” Kevin shouted.
“I know him!” yelled Dante gleefully. “He’s—”
“A cousin!” the three of us yelled back in unison.
Dante looked in the rearview mirror, confused. “No, his family and mine go to same church.”
We heard the wail of sirens. The polizia were coming, as promised.
Dante drove faster.
“Slow down!” I yelled, clutching onto the back of the passenger seat. “Candace knows—she said the police were going to follow us!”
“Don’t make them shoot us!” Kevin shouted. “When we get out of here, we’re going to be surrounded!”
I couldn’t
stop myself from giggling. “And the world’s going to see you in your Fruit of the Loom underwear.”
Sometimes justice was too sweet.
TRICKS AND TIPS FOR THE EDGE-Y GIRL
When your favorite frock has seen better days, it’s time to say buh-bye … and go and find something new!
31
I saw the flash of red lights through the van’s windows. Police cars surrounded us now. The wailing sirens and the flashing strobes made me feel sick to my stomach. Suddenly, the van screeched to an abrupt halt. From my skewed view I could see we’d stopped in front of the Hotel Beatrici.
It was good to be home.
“Nobody move!” came a voice through a bullhorn. “We’re going to open the back door. Put your hands up, slowly!” It sounded like Case.
I heard the tramp of boots all around the van. Not daring to move, I strained to see, and, from the corner of my eye, I saw that a gun was pointed at Dante’s head. He held his hands out the window, barely moving enough to breathe. The back door of the van was flung open and a thicket of gun barrels were thrust in, red laser sights dotting everyone except Mrs. Jennings. We each very carefully and slowly raised our hands.
“Hold!” cried Candace, pushing forward. Peering in, she saw Mrs. Jennings. Like the others, I sat frozen in my place.
“Mrs. Jennings, are you all right? Do you need medical care?”
“No, Candace. I’m fine.”
Candace offered her hand to Mrs. Jennings, helping her out. The police backed off and instantly Case, Nelson, Mignone, and Collins rushed forward.
Mignone put a hand to his ear and said, “We have Venus, Venus moving to Olympus. Over. Mrs. Jennings, come with me, please.” He held out his hand to her, taking custody from Candace.
She nodded, her legs and smile shaky. After Dante’s driving, I think we all felt the same.
“Thank you, and please take care of these courageous young people.” They led her to a large black SUV with tinted windows. Once she was safely inside, it screeched off, a motorcade of police cars and motorcycles leading and following, lights flashing and sirens screaming. Only Case remained with Candace.
“Is anyone hurt, do we need a doctor?” asked Candace as Sophie and I climbed out of the van.
Blonde Ops Page 24
