Movie Night Murder

by Leslie Langtry

  Riley headed for the factory, and I brought up the rear, behind my father. My head was swerving so much in an attempt to locate Red and Blue, I felt like my brain was swimming. This must be why the Secret Service were idiots—head bobbing must cause brain damage. Maybe I should be nicer to them.

  Dad waved and greeted people as we went. He really was good. The man had represented Iowa for several terms now, and I was pretty sure he'd been to every town in the state. And his constituents loved him. His elections were always landslides against any opponent the other side could drum up. It was almost embarrassing.

  People shouted their hellos as we passed, and to my surprise, Dad responded with that person's name almost every time. I say almost, because he didn't recognize one or two people which meant that they were probably from out of state.

  I didn't like the idea of having my Dad in a dangerous situation, but he was our only way to get into the inner workings of this event. Savage had made it clear we weren't invited to his little party. As soon as we were out of the diminutive agent's line of vision, Riley and I split off from Dad. My father nodded at us and then began working the room.

  "How do you think they're going to do it?" I asked Riley.

  "The bomb?" He answered. "There's really only one place."

  I agreed. "The boiler room. That's where I'd put it."

  By placing explosives there, Red and Blue would build a huge blast that would most likely level the building and everyone in it. I led Riley across the floor of the factory to an exit door that said Staff Only.

  Riley followed me through the door before pulling it closed behind him. We had to move quickly. If anyone had seen us, they'd come after us. And this was a party for two. A cement stairwell gave us the choice of up or down.

  "Down here," I said as I started toward the stairs.

  All the lights were on, but we moved carefully. Riley and I were armed, but there was no point drawing attention to ourselves if Red and Blue were still on the premises. We hit the ground floor and carefully opened a door that warned us to Keep Out.

  The door creaked, which made me wince a little. We paused to see if anyone came running, but there was no response. Riley was right at my back. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, and it made me tingle. Dammit. I did not need this right now.

  I moved forward into the room. Like the stairwell, it was fully lit. Riley closed the door behind him without so much as a creak. Show-off.

  "I don't see anyone," I whispered.

  Riley disappeared to my right. I took the left, clearing every nook and cranny in the room. It felt like it took hours, and normally I'm not fond of being this close to explosives. But a bomb could be anywhere in this room. We had to make sure. Double sure. It was slow going, and every little sound made me jump, but eventually, Riley and I met in the middle.

  "Nothing," Riley said. "I found nothing."

  "Me neither. There's no bomb here."

  "Let's go over it again, this time with you on the right," Riley said.

  I worked even more slowly, looking for anything Riley might have missed. There were all the usual pipes, buttons, and lights, but nothing incendiary. I got down on my hands and knees and looked under everything with a gap beneath it. I stood on tiptoe to look on top of pipes. Nothing.

  Once again, we met in the middle.

  "It's clean," I said. "You find anything?"

  Riley shook his head, "No. And it worries me."

  "Because there's nothing here?"

  "Because it must be somewhere else," Riley answered. "And we're running out of time."

  I agreed. "We have to check the rest of the building. Which will be tough because there are people everywhere."

  Dodging Savage was going to be tough. By now he's probably realized we weren't at the Senator's side. He might even be looking for us. We'd have to perform a sweep without getting caught. How I wished I still had some of my old spy tools. The ring with the small hypodermic that could knock out an elephant would have come in handy here.

  I followed Riley back up the stairs, and we re-entered the main floor.

  "I'll take the offices," Riley said. "You start at the other end of the building. We'll meet in the middle."

  I nodded. "Call if you find anything."

  Riley disappeared, and I turned to face the crowd. Damn. My watch said we had less than an hour before President Benson arrived. Visitors were all over the place, trying to get a good seat for the event. It was impossible to tell who was who. I tried to scan the audience, but if Red and Blue were in disguise, I'd miss them.

  I kept my head down as I wove through the crowd. I didn't need Agent Savage coming after me. I listened as I went and heard snippets of conversation, but nothing that sounded menacing. Crowd control would be impossible at this point.

  I reached the opposite end of the room in about ten minutes, which was disappointing. There wouldn't be any lightning quick action if something happened. If there was a bomb here, it would definitely create a massacre. Just what any terrorist agency would want.

  So why were Red and Blue doing this? What was their motivation? Were they anti-government? That might be it because of the president's presence. Could they be from a foreign group? Evelyn was an assassin for the highest bidder, so that was a possibility. But then, the couple I overheard had pitch perfect Midwestern American accents. That wasn't easy for most nationalities to achieve. And if they did, my experience was that they slipped after a few minutes.

  A foreign terrorist organization would make a huge name for themselves by killing the leader of the free world. It would put even the smallest group on the map in an historical way. Epic even. Maybe Red and Blue had turned on the U.S. and were someone's foot soldiers on the ground here.

  Iowa was a perfect target. Hitting the wholesome, homegrown center of the nation—even without taking out President Benson—would drive fear into the American population. It would show that anyone can get to us anywhere in the U.S.—and that New York and other large cities weren't the only targets. Americans would be constantly paranoid if a place like Willow Grove blew up. They'd know that they aren't safe even in the smallest, most anonymous place in the country.

  So what was Evelyn's angle? Why kill her? Was she supposed to place the bomb, but reneged? I'd love to think that she came to feel something for my troop and didn't want any part of hitting them where it hurt.

  But then, Evelyn never really got to know the girls in DC. She never got to know any of us. Still, my mind kept settling on that as an answer. The terrorists had hired her to take out Willow Grove, and she'd refused. So they killed her.

  I liked that answer. It would tie everything up neatly. But real life wasn't neat and tidy. There could be other explanations. Maybe Evelyn argued with them over money. They weren't going to pay her what they'd promised, and she bolted. Or maybe she just couldn't make it happen in their time frame. They could've gotten rid of her for that.

  Ugh! I wasn't getting anywhere with this. And worst of all, I still had no idea why Evelyn had attached herself to my troop. How rude of her to go and die without answering these questions.

  My mind kept going back to the puzzle box. She'd given it to Lauren just before she'd died. It had to be a message for me. Maybe Evelyn knew all along who I was. Maybe she was even hiding out in my troop, sizing me up. But why come to the church? Did she want to tell me something? Warn me? If so, why?

  I shook my head. This wasn't getting solved right now, and I needed my brain for other things. The end of the building I was in was filled with machinery. I crawled around the best I could in a suit. My gun was crushed against the small of my back. It had been a long, long time since I'd worn a piece. Hopefully after this I'd never need to again.

  None of the crowd had spilled over into this area, because the sight lines were bad. They wouldn't be able to see the president. I went over everything again, but found no blinking red lights…no counter rapidly approaching zero…and nothing ticking.

  My c
ell rang, and I answered it.

  "Wrath," Riley said. "Did you find anything?"

  I shook my head in the deluded thought that he could see me. "Nothing. You?"

  "I managed to check out the podium and underneath the bleachers. Nothing on this end."

  We agreed to meet up on a catwalk that hung over the main area. Maybe the terrorists would strike from above, and we'd get lucky. At least we could see from up there. The problem was that we wouldn't be able to get to the floor quickly if we did see something.

  Riley and I spoke to each other, but our eyes were scanning the crowd.

  "They could be down there," Riley said. He banged his hand on the railing. "Dammit. They should've cancelled or rescheduled."

  "Yes they should have," I agreed. "But they didn't. And my father is down there. So I'll do whatever it takes to stop whatever is going to happen."

  "I feel like an idiot," Riley said glumly. "This whole thing is idiotic. We have absolutely no way of knowing how or when they'll strike. We don't even know who they are."

  "We've been in some bad situations before," I said. "But never one with so little intel."

  I thought about Rex. I hadn't gotten a chance to talk to him before we left. I should have. I should've made a plan for the cats if I did get blown up. And I should've set up an educational trust fund for Finn. And I should've somehow said goodbye to the girls in my troop. Why hadn't I done any of that? If I survived this thing, those would be my first priorities. Well, not saying goodbye to the girls, because if I survived this, I was going to make damn sure this wouldn't happen again.

  The thought of never seeing Rex again got to me. My stomach sank as I pictured him at my funeral, throwing himself over the coffin, weeping that I was his whole reason for living. That would be nice. But then, I saw Dr. Soo Jin Body comforting him. And then they'd fall for each other and get married. My cats would become her cats. They'd have gorgeous kids, and everyone would forget I existed.

  "Wrath…" Riley said.

  Well that wasn't going to happen! How could he marry her after I got myself blown up to save America?

  "Wrath!" Riley said. "What is it? Your knuckles are completely white from gripping the railing so hard."

  What? Oh. Right. I relaxed and let go of the railing, rubbing my hands together.

  "What is it? Do you see something?" Riley persisted.

  "No," I said slowly. "I'm just furious that something could happen here, and we can't do anything about it."

  Something was happening down on the floor. A bunch of men in suits came down the aisle toward the podium. I could see President Benson's graying head in the middle of the group. I looked to the stage to see Dad sitting there. It was time.

  My heart started hammering beneath my ribs. At any minute, we would be blown to bits. I tore my focus away from home and onto the floor of the factory. People were clapping and waving at the president. Everyone seemed happy.

  Well, everyone except for Agent Savage. He stood directly in front of the stage, facing the crowd. Just for a moment, I kind of hoped they'd swarm the stage like it was a rave. Did he really think that he alone could take on this crowd?

  The clock was ticking…probably on a big bomb somewhere, and I couldn't do anything. I thought back to times in the field, when I'd been an agent. Had there ever been a time where I felt so exposed? A time when I felt so hopeless? Nope. Not one. Mainly because we had better intelligence, and we weren't related to the people who were in danger.

  Dad spotted me from the stage and nodded. If he was worried, Senator Czrygy didn't show it. He was so awesome like that. Maybe he thought we had it all in hand. That was a depressing thought. Dad thought the threat was neutralized when in fact, there wasn't anything we could do. I felt guilty. I should've said goodbye to him too.

  The president brought his hands up and motioned for everyone to sit down. He should've used the Girl Scout quiet sign. Although that would really only work if he was addressing a roomful of little girls. But if that had been the case, I knew Agent Savage would've been screwed.

  "Anything?" Riley's voice was calm, but I sensed a slight undercurrent of panic.

  "No," My voice cracked. "What do we do?"

  He didn't answer me. Instead, Riley focused on the floor below. Well, I guess if we were going to die, we could at least really witness it well.

  "This is insane," I said. "It's completely out of our control."

  Riley nodded but didn't look at me. I didn't like it that he agreed. I wanted him to say something like, aha—there's the bad guys—I can see the bomb and disarm it from here…

  But he didn't.

  "What did we miss?" Riley said through a tight jaw.

  I shrugged. "Everything. Nothing. I don't know. But we didn't find anything. The Secret Service didn't find anything. Everyone coming through the doors was wanded, so no one could've brought the bomb in or worn it."

  President Benson was droning on about agricultural things. I think I might have heard something on ethanol and chickens, but I wasn't sure. He should talk about pigs. We have a lot of pigs in Iowa.

  "I'm going crazy up here," I said. "I'm going down to the floor."

  Riley looked at me. "To do what?"

  "I don't know. But whatever it is, I can do it better down there."

  Riley stayed up on the catwalk, and I carefully made my way down the metal stairs, trying to tread silently. The echo factor was ridiculous here. I hit the floor and glanced back up at Riley. He didn't look at me.

  Okay, Genius, what now? Coming downstairs seemed like a good idea at the time. But now I had to actually do something. So I took up a position against the side wall, scanning the audience in profile. I gave up after a few moments because it's really hard to find two bad guys in a crowd of a couple hundred people.

  I started to pace back and forth in the back of the room, behind the audience. Every now and then I caught Savage's eye and he glowered. I ignored him. My presence was a reminder that I didn't think he could handle his job. I hoped I was right. Nothing would make me feel better than to be proved wrong.

  The minutes ticked by in my head like the bomb I thought was somewhere in this building. We were running out of time. My life was ticking away. In a moment of desperation, I grabbed two state troopers hanging out in the back of the room and sent one to the boiler room and one to the offices.

  That felt a little better. The Iowa State Police are extremely competent. They didn't even question me. They just went and did what I'd asked them too. If only other agencies were like this.

  I stepped up behind the bleachers and very carefully searched beneath the audience. It was dark from so many legs and backs. I turned on the flashlight app on my cell, but kept it dim as I swept back and forth. Nothing.

  By the time I emerged from beneath the bleachers, the troopers reappeared. They informed me that they'd found nothing and took up positions against the back wall.

  I texted Riley, What are we missing here?

  President Benson is wrapping up was all he texted back.

  My eyes swept the room—well, what I could see at least. Every word the president spoke ticked like the second hand on a huge, judgey clock. It felt a little like I was moving through water, unable to maintain a pace.

  Applause erupted, startling me, and I jumped backward, landing in a defensive position. If the troopers saw me, they said nothing. I liked them even more. Blood pulsed in my ears. This was it. If there was going to be an explosion, it would be now. I closed my eyes tightly—as if that would protect me.

  In my mind, I saw the photo we'd found. Blue and Red, looking at a map of Iowa, with the letters G 11. G 11 on the map meant Willow Grove. I'd proved that on my atlas. Wait…my mind reached out to the photo again. The map! It wasn't part of a spiral bound atlas. It was a single, folding map. Like the ones you find in rest areas throughout the state.

  I raced up to one of the troopers as the crowd started toward the exits.

  "Do you have a state map in your ca
r?" I asked.

  The trooper nodded. I asked him to go get it, and he disappeared. I really liked these guys. They were the perfect professionals.

  "Here you go." The trooper returned, handing me the map.

  The crowd was encompassing us now, and I pushed through until I came to the staircase where Riley was waiting. I opened the map and held it out in front of me. Damn. It was too detailed to do by eye.

  "What is it?" Riley asked as I got down on my knees and spread the map on the floor.

  "I think we made a mistake," I said as I found G with my left hand and 11 with my right. Very slowly, I began to bring my hands together.

  "My atlas is at least ten years old," I explained as my fingers got closer to each other.

  "Who has a ten-year-old atlas?" Riley scoffed.

  "Someone who bought it at a garage sale, and someone who didn't think she'd ever need one," I answered. My fingers came together, and my heart stopped. I started over and did it again in case I was wrong.

  "Why should that matter?" Riley got down on his knees next to me.

  "Because I remember something in the paper when I'd first moved here. Something about the atlas being recalled."

  Riley's right eyebrow went up. "I've never heard of an atlas being recalled."

  "Well it was." My fingers came together and I gasped. "Because there had been mistakes." I looked at Riley. "G 11 isn't for Willow Grove. G 11 is for Who's There. They're going to blow up my hometown."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  "Hey kiddo," Dad said quietly, and I looked at his shoes. "What's up?"

  Riley and I scrambled to our feet. "We've got to go, Senator," Riley said as he took my father's arm.

  "Well, well, well." Agent Savage appeared in front of us with a sneer on his face. "I guess someone owes me an apology."

  The man looked like he'd won the lottery on his birthday while drinking from the fountain of youth. He was going to enjoy this. In his little amoeba brain, I'd fall all over myself apologizing in front of the Senator who oversaw his agency.

  "Sorry," I said as I took Dad's other arm and we started hurrying him away.