by Carol Roi
"Maybe the analysts are wrong this time, maybe there just isn't any hard data for me to worm out of the French attaché."
"I'm afraid not, ma petite. For once, I think the brains in the basement at Langley are right. Now, will you watch my back? Or shall I ask one of the other agents to help me?" His hands grip my shoulders, those mischievous dark eyes boring into mine, seeking the answer he wants.
I break his hold on me, walk over to the closet where I start to pull out the dark outfit I use only for such times as these. "What do you think?" I'm still mad as hell, but I've a job to do and, though I hate to admit it, my husband is right. One day, my temper will be my downfall.
Shaking off the memory, I turn down the street, my destination in sight. Everything I wanted, everything I desired, all has come crashing down. All that is left for me is WindHawk Securities and the job at QuestScape, and then, maybe, I'll stop to consider what Diandra said. My throat tightens as I try to think of continuing my life without my husband by my side. It feels like a betrayal most foul. I long to join him in the afterlife, I need to. My mood is still quite grim when I pull the rented Lexus RX 300 under the covered entrance and the young valet opens the driver's door for me.
Stalking into the hotel's lobby, I find a glowering Jan-Michel LaFollet waiting for me, an embarrassed John David by his side. I brush past them, growling under my breath, "I don't want to hear it, LaFollet. Not now."
I hear him dismiss John as I enter the elevator; before the doors can close my Watcher puts his foot in the track and they spring back open. I endure his silent anger as we ride, undisturbed, to the 15th floor where I once again leave him behind to walk to my suite. I slam the door in his face.
I snort in idle amusement when he walks through the door anyway. Guess I forgot he has a damn passkey. I slip out of my long coat, carelessly throwing both the coat and my blades on the couch as I walk towards the bedroom.
"Stop right there." Not only is his voice full of anger, but the hand clamping down on my shoulder is hard in its grip.
Too many years of hiding and running from my enemies, both mortal and immortal alike, give me skills that tend to rise up when I'm pissed off. My hand comes up as I spin on my toes, knocking his hand away from my shoulder. I follow through with a fast blow towards his throat, which he blocks, barely, my blow landing on his left cheek, slicing it open. He doesn't even blink, and his slap to my face catches me off guard, spinning me away from him. He takes advantage of my distraction and pulls me into a nearly crushing bear hug.
As I struggle to gain my release, his calm voice trickles in my ears. "Lee, enough. Stop it! I'm sorry, but you have to calm down."
He obviously took great care to watch how Azir dealt with me when I was in such a dark mood. It takes several deep breaths before I start to relax, and he releases me from his grasp. Slowly, I turn to face him and see the damage I've done. "Oh, Gods! Jan, I'm sorry." I trace gentle fingers just below the cut I gave him, noticing the swelling which is already rising.
"I'll be okay." He takes my hand in his and touches me under the chin softly, to make me look into his eyes. "Now, where did you go when you managed to ditch young Mr. David? And where did this mood come from?"
Shaking my head, I walk away from his caring gaze, my mood lessening in its intensity. "I had to meet someone. I couldn't have any witnesses, especially John. Or yourself." I enter the bathroom, wet down a washrag and return to his side.
"You met with another Immortal, didn't you?" I sigh, nodding my head in agreement as I clean the blood from his face. "Damn it, Eolia! Who was it? Was it a Challenge? Why didn't you tell me and how in the hell did they get past me and my security teams?"
Throwing the now bloody cloth at him, I answer. "I got past your security teams, it wasn't a challenge and it was an old friend. That's all you need to know."
"There can't be that many Immortals here in Cascade. I'll find out who it is, you know that, so why not tell me now, Lee?"
I let him stew in silence as I start to gather up the equipment I need to take on the security systems at QuestScape, placing everything in a small, black backpack. "Diandra Pallas."
My soft answer sends him into motion. He's on the cell phone he rarely uses, obviously calling his contact in the Watcher Organization. "Joe Dawson, please. Thank you." He steps from the room, his conversation lost to me.
By the time he returns, fifteen minutes later, I'm ready to storm the bastions of a multi-million dollar corporation. And from the look on my Watcher's face, he's ready to pull me out of town, contracts be damned.
"I can't let you do this, not tonight, Lee."
"Sorry, I have to. Honor of the company and all that jazz." I slip into a black sweater, then pull my hair back up into the French twist and pull a black knit cap on.
"Pallas is bad news, Lee. She came out of the Outback of Australia like some vengeful wraith. In three years she's collected over seven Quickenings; she's on the hunt and back in the Game after who knows how long."
I laugh. "You think I care? Jan-Michel, I have a job to do and I have to do it tonight. If you're so concerned about my welfare, contact Diandra's Watcher and talk with him. Maybe he can keep her busy while I'm at QuestScape."
Oh dear, I shocked him.
"How do you know Pallas' Watcher is a man?"
"I met him tonight. Nice looking kid, about 30, student at Rainier University. One hell of a grip too." I rub my wrist where young Mr. Sandburg had dug in his nimble fingers, causing me to drop my blade earlier.
His hazel eyes narrow, suspicions glowing from within. "Did you happen to ask him his name while you were at it? And did Pallas see him?"
"Blair Sandburg. And, no, Diandra didn't see him," I lie, protecting Diandra and her mortal lover. The Watchers are very strict about how much contact is supposed to occur between a Watcher and the Immortal they watch. There was some kind of trial a few years back, and the rules relaxed a bit, but I really don't think a Watcher is supposed to take his Immortal to bed with him.
"Let me go with you tonight, to watch your back."
"Fine. Let's go." I toss the backpack at him along with the keys to the Lexus. "You drive. We're behind schedule as it is."
As the heavy church door closed with a loud boom behind the upset Immortal, Diandra turned to Blair. "And just what were you thinking when you decided to come here?"
He chewed the inside of his lip, wincing as he accidentally ran his teeth over his cut. "I should have talked to you, I know, but, well, obviously you didn't want me to know you were meeting Eolia. I mean, you called her this morning and then never bothered to tell me about it. So I figured it would be okay if I just didn't tell you I was going to be here. You said yourself last night she was unpredictable. What if this had been a setup? What if for some totally bogus reason she was pissed at you again, and wanted your head?"
"Lobo--"
"No, just listen to me, this could have been a trap, a setup to get you alone somewhere. I don't care if it is holy ground, that just guarantees she won't kill you here, not that she wouldn't do anything else, which you saw, she had no qualms about doing." He gestured at his face. "I couldn't let her do that to you. I had to be here. I had to do whatever I could to keep you safe."
"Blair, I know you don't want anything to happen to me, but it's not your place. You know the rules, you can't interfere. The Watchers could kill you for what you've done."
"I wasn't going to interfere. I just want you to have a fighting chance, for it to be a fair fight. And as for the Watchers, Joe knew I was in a relationship with you when he asked me to join. Look, Dee, I don't want to argue with you. It's over, it's done, you're okay, and I'm okay. Everything turned out all right, didn't it?"
The worry and fear in his eyes burned into her, and when she didn't answer him right away, he asked again, his voice soft and uncertain. "It is okay, right? We are okay, aren't we?"
Goddess, she couldn't stay mad at him, it just wasn't possible, not when he looked at her like that.
She moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around him in an embrace. "We are always okay, Lobo, always." His hold on her tightened, and he gave her one of his brilliant, blinding smiles.
"What about Eolia?"
"What about her?"
"You know she's not exactly stable, Dee."
"I know. But she's a big girl, Blair, she has to get through this on her own. If she wants my help, I'll give it, but I won't let her talk me into doing something that could turn out to be a permanent solution to a temporary problem. But thanks for being concerned about her. That's one of the things I really love about you, your ability to see beyond the surface, into people's souls." She ran her hand over his cheek, bending in to kiss him gently, careful of his injury.
"Hey, you think you could do your thing on my face? Just so Jim doesn't go all ballistic on me."
"Sure, hold still." Dee held her hand over his cheek for a moment, concentrating, watching the bruise and cut vanish. "So," she said when she was done, linking her arm through his and heading up the aisle, "Jim still on stakeout tonight?"
"Yeah, why do you ask?"
"Just thought we could spend a little time alone. You know, a little food, a little music, a little dancing, a little kissing, a little touching& "
"Oh, you mean a repeat of last night." He grinned at her again, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.
She ruffled his curls affectionately as they left the church. "Yeah, exactly like that."
Part 8
As Jan-Michel turns down the road that leading to the massive Cascade Office Park, I reach into the backpack and pull out and activate the jamming device I stuffed in there earlier. "Park in the south parking lot." I adjust the black knit cap on my head, thanking the Gods the temperature has dropped low enough the item will not seem out of place.
"You brought the radios?" His voice is calm, as he pulls into the lot I indicated, which is conveniently located between the two largest corporate offices in the Park, QuestScape to the south and Complexium Communications to the north.
Handing over the second radio, I clip the earphone into place, hiding its cord under the turtle necked sweater I'm wearing. "Preset to channel 28. And before you ask, yes, that is a secure channel."
He parks in a spot close to the front doors of QuestScape then turns to me in the dimly lit cab. "I still think we should put this off another night, make sure everything is in place..."
I place my hand on his arm, effectively stilling his protest. "No. I do this, now, tonight. Sharee is already expecting me, I can't risk calling her back to cancel." The muscles under my hand tense, then relax as he fights the logic I've laid out before him. Then he simply nods, resigned to the idea. Patting his arm, letting him know I understand his concerns, I reach up and activate the throat mic hidden under the neck of my sweater.
"How long should I give you before I start to worry?"
"One hour."
"Too long. Forty-five minutes, then I come in after you."
The man cares, but this is the first time he's backed me up without Azir helping him out. "Wrong. If I'm not out in forty-five minutes, you drive off and wait for me back at the fallback point."
"Fine." He checks his watch. "It's time. Get going."
I smile. His gruff voice tells me he's no longer happy with the plan the team came up with, but I really have no choice. Stepping out of the Lexus, I shrug my backpack high onto my shoulder and walk towards the target. A light snow has begun to fall, the pale light from the sodium street lamps glinting off the small, crystalline flakes.
My boot heels hitting the flag stone path sound sharp in the crisp, cold air, announcing my arrival at the doors to QuestScape. Pulling open the door, I step into the nearly deserted lobby, shaking the snow from my shoulders. As predicted, the lone security guard posted behind the reception desk challenges my presence.
"Can I help you, Miss?" He's an older man, roughly in his late fifties, who has the bearing of a former military man or maybe a retired cop. I read his nametag as I step forward.
"I hope so. My car had the audacity to break down in the parking lot. I'm hoping my friend here hasn't left for the night and can give me a lift home."
"You work around here?"
I point over my shoulder. "Just started last week over at Complexium."
He picks up a clipboard and scans it. "Not too many folks still here. What's your friend's name, Miss?"
I fluster a bit. "Sorry, I'm being rude. LeAnne Crowley. My friend is Sharee Milton. I think she works in Information Services here." I hold out my hand, inviting him to shake it, which he does.
"Yeah, Mrs. Milton is still logged in the building; let me call her for you." He picks up the phone and dials a four-digit number. "Mrs. Milton? There's a LeAnne Crowley here... Yeah, that's her. Her car broke down and she's... Yes, ma'am. I'll send her up." As he hangs up the phone, something catches his attention and he bangs a fist against the table, where I can't see it.
"Problem, Mr. Bailey?" I try to lean over the counter, but I can't see anything, it's too high.
"Damn monitors are acting up again. Nothing new. They've been working on them for a month." He hands me the clipboard and a pen. "If you'll just sign in, I'll send you up to the fifth floor where your friend is working." He's not going to escort me? Sloppy, sloppy. But it'll work to my advantage.
I sigh as I place my signature on the indicated line. "I guess I won't make it home in time to watch the last part of the game after all." Handing him the board, I take the visitor's pass he gives to me.
"Not much of a game tonight. KC's walking all over Dallas. Take the second elevator, and don't forget to sign back out when you and Mrs. Milton leave. I may be on rounds when you do and the doors are scheduled to lock in about ten minutes."
I clip the badge to my coat lapel and look up at him, startled. "Locked? Will we be able to get out if you're not here?"
He chuckles. "Yeah, you can get out of here after nine, but unless you have one of our employee badges, you won't be able to get back in."
"Oh." With a small wave and a quiet word of thanks, I walk over to the elevators; the one in the middle of the five car bank opens for me. The doors close and I know, by now, Mr. Bailey is cursing yet another monitor. The jamming device I wear is powerful; once it scrambles a camera, that camera stays scrambled until a technician can repair the damage. The doors open at the fifth floor and I step out, looking for the nearest stairwell.
Off to my left I see the door I need, complete with the automatic alarm on it. Opening my backpack, I pull out another device and place it on top of the alarm box. The LED lights on the device go from red to green in seconds and I push open the door, the alarm silenced. So far, I'm not impressed with the security measures I've seen.
The door to the fourth floor has the same type of alarm system and I pull out a twin to the gadget I used earlier, disabling it. Before stepping through the door, I key the mic at my throat. "Zephyr to Harrier, fourth floor."
\ Roger. Twelve minutes.\
Bless him, keeping track of how much time I've spent so far on the job. I step through the door, recalling the floor plans in my head. I walk down the hall, past the elevators to a large door with a card reader beside it. I knew this would be here and I've already pulled another electronic piece of equipment from my bag of tricks. Inserting the card into the slot, I activate the machine and let it do its work. Within ten seconds I hear the lock on the door disengage and push it open.
There are only a few, widely spaced desk lamps in the lab, casting their dim light into the room. Cautiously I walk over to the workstation Mr. Ventriss had told me about, my boots barely making any noise as I cross the linoleum flooring. I learned, years and years ago, how to walk silently in boots. My eyes search the table, but see nothing resembling the zip drive I was to have found. Digging into my back pocket I start to pull out the business card I wrote my little 'I was here, your security sux' note on, when I feel it.
The crawling sensation moving up my neck
, tingling in my skull, warns me and I mentally curse as I duck behind the station, hiding.
The form steping into the room is backlit by the lights in the hall; not too tall, slender, armed. Damn! Just what I didn't need! How many fucking Immortals are there in Cascade? I finger the long dagger, a short sword actually, hiding in the lining of my coat. I flinch as the figure hits the light switch and floods the lab with the bright, fluorescent light.
"You may as well come out. I know you're here, Immortal!" So, the figure identifies himself as a man.
Blinking away the tears in my eyes, I stand up, pulling my blade, and look at the challenger. "This isn't exactly the time or the place for this, you know."
"Like I care?" He raises the shotgun and aims in my direction. Not thinking, I throw myself to the side and raise my sword. Something hits my blade, knocking it from my hand and sending it through the window behind me. The sound of shattering glass and alarms, loud alarms, rings out.
