by Melissa Good
"It is. How are things going? I didn't have time to login to the desktop this morning. We're about to leave for the airport." Dar felt a distinct sense of embarrassment.
"For us, we're cool," Mark said. "Nothing big new on the board, and all that, since it's like 2:30 a.m. But we just heard they closed down NY again and found some truck bomb trying to cross one of the bridges."
"Shit." Dar exhaled. "Kerry's in Washington."
"Yeah, I know." Mark sounded unhappy. "But hey, she's probably safe someplace, right? She's not like, at the Pentagon, is she?"
"No." Dar caught motion of the corner of her eye, and saw Sir Melthon and his staff walking toward her, the magnate still in discussion with Alastair. "She's in a hotel, but I'm about to get on an airplane and be out of touch for ten hours. I'm going to lose my mind."
"Well, Dar, we ready?" Alastair said, as they closed in on her. "Everything all right?"
"Hang on Mark." Dar put her cell phone on mute. "Just getting a status," she said. "Sir Melthon, it's been a true pleasure working with your team, despite the circumstances."
"Likewise," the magnate said. "Now, I know this is not really the time to discuss this, but I have a schedule to meet. I need to know how this event is going to impact that." He held a hand up. "McLean, this does not change anything in our pact. I'm not an idiot. I know full well this disaster requires attention."
Alastair and Dar exchanged looks. "I'll know better once we get back to Houston,." Dar said. "The resources tied up normally in that side of our organization would not be dedicated to your project, but I'm going to have to pull people in so I need to assess."
The Englishman frowned, but he also nodded at the same time. "Fair enough," he said. "My godson tenders his regrets. He had to hurry back to Hamburg last night. An aunt of his was taken sick."
"Hope she's doing better," Alastair said. "As Dar said, let us get back and sort ourselves out, and we'll be back in touch soon as we can." He held his hand out, and the magnate gripped it. "Thanks for your hospitality. Hope I can return it sometime if you're in my neck of the woods."
"Could be I'll take you up on that," Sir Melthon said. "Wouldn't mind seeing your headquarters, but not until after all the broohah passes on." He extended his hand to Dar. "Ms. Roberts, believe me when I say it has truly been an honor."
Dar took his and traded strong grips with him. "I'm glad you're a customer," she said. "You're the kind I don't mind going two hundred percent for."
Sir Melthon smiled, looking for a moment as though twenty years had been erased from his face. "Have a good flight home, you lot. Let us know if you get in safely. My man here will get you to the airport fast as London traffic allows. Which means--hold on to the armrests and close your eyes if you're smart."
Dar waited until they were in the car before she unmuted the phone. "Sorry about that Mark."
"No problem boss, I got a grilled cheese sandwich and a Bawls out of it," Mark replied, in a somewhat muffled tone. "These RV's are awesome. We should keep one around the office."
Dar sighed. "I'll put it on the budget list," she said, in a distracted tone. "Now, where were we?"
Mark rustled some paper. "We were just talking about stuff going on," he said. "You were bitching about having to be out of touch for ten hours."
"Ah." Dar glanced at Alastair. "Hang on again." She waited for her boss to turn his head. "Mark says they reported a truck bomb in Manhattan."
"Damn it," Alastair exhaled. "Damn it all to hell, this has to stop."
"Sorry." Dar went back to the phone. "Just catching Alastair up." She braced her elbow against the door and rested her head against her hand. "I talked to Kerry earlier and there were bomb threats in Washington too."
"Yeah, they were saying," Mark murmured, "some place near the Capitol, and two other ones around there." He hesitated. "Listen, boss, you want me to go find her instead of heading through? If we keep driving, we'll probably make it before you land."
Dar was silent for a moment, weighing her personal desires against her judgement.
"Hey Dar?" Alastiar touched her arm. "You all right? You look a little pale."
Dar felt a little pale. "Yeah," she said. "Just woke up with a headache." She drew in a breath. "Keep going, Mark. I'm not sure where Ker's going to be by the time you get there, and it'll be a wild goose chase."
"You sure?" he asked.
"Yeah," Dar said, briefly. "She'll be all right. They're going to need you in the city."
"Okay," Mark said. "I'll drop her a note with my cell and remind her I'll be passing through though, okay?"
Dar managed a small grin. "Sure," she said. "At worst maybe she'll need you to rescue her from her mother."
"Uh."
"Hey, you volunteered." Dar felt her neck muscles relaxing a trifle. "What else is going on? We find any more of our folks?"
"Two in Washington," Mark replied. "They weren't even at the Pentagon, like they were supposed to be. They got sent on a run to get freaking doughnuts, and got in a car wreck."
"Oh," Dar murmured. "Hope they're okay."
"Sure," Mark said. "Numbskulls didn't have a cell with them, and decided to take the rest of the day off with a freaking doctor's note and went hiking."
She could hear the frustration in Mark's voice, a mixture of relief that the two workers were all right and anger at their desertion. "Did you talk to them?"
"Yeah."
Dar watched Alastair watch her, distracted by the realization that her boss had never really seen her exercise the management part of her position. It got her mind off Kerry and her discomfort, and she felt her concentration sharpen. "How old are they?"
Mark chuckled wryly. "Twenty," he admitted. "Freaking kids."
"Do you remember what you were like when you were twenty?" Dar asked him, suppressing a smile. "Hm?"
"Sure," Mark replied. "But that's squashed by the fact I also remember what you were like when you were twenty so I don't wanna cut them that much slack."
The unexpected retort made Dar laugh, despite everything. "Ahh, yeah," she said. "I was an anal retentive workaholic control freak, wasn't I?"
"Was?" Alastair asked, his blue eyes twinkling.
"Was?" Mark asked, at the same time.
"Hey." Dar growled. "You can't have it both ways, you two," she said. "Either I've mellowed or I haven't. Pick one." She knew the answer, though. She wasn't the asshole she had been back then, because if she had been she and Kerry would never have lasted together.
That was her yardstick. She could look back now on things she'd done and things she'd said, and she knew it wasn't in her to be like that anymore. "Well?"
"Now, Dar." Alastair patted her knee. "I'm just kidding you. For heaven's sake."
"Just messing with you, boss." Mark chuckled. "You sounded down," he added. "These guys pissed me off, but they're pretty good techs."
Dar was glad of the distraction. "They weren't in the right place at the wrong time," she said. "I think they probably know that, and they'll remember it."
"Yeah."
"Besides we're going to need every hand we've got. So make them feel guilty and get them back to work," Dar concluded.
"Okay. I'm cool with that," Mark said. "I think they'll be cool with it too."
"And if that doesn't work," Dar mused. "Tell them I'll show up there and spank their asses."
"Blurp." Alastair had been drinking from a bottle of water, and nearly sprayed it over the inside of the car. "Who approved that bonus plan?"
There was a moment of silence from Mark. "You want me to give them a perk after they pulled a stunt like that?" he queried. "Jeez, boss. I'll be hiking to Paris next week. Can I get in it?"
Dar actually felt herself blush. Fortunately, the car was too dark for it to be visible. "What a bunch of kinks I work with," she rallied, watching her boss chuckle. "All right. Let me let this line loose for someone else to get bad news on," she added. "Talk to you later, Mark. Drive safely."
"Will do, boss," he answered. "Ha
ve a good flight, okay?"
Ugh. "Okay. Bye." Dar closed the phone and let it rest in her hand as she leaned back in the car seat. "Damn it." Despite the levity, she couldn't dismiss the knot of worry in her guts. "Too much going on."
Alastair watched her quietly for a moment, as she rubbed her eyes. "Sure you're okay, Dar?" he asked. "I've got some aspirin if you want it."
"Nah." Dar tapped the briefcase by her right knee. "I've got some in there. I just woke up on the wrong side of the Atlantic this morning." She pressed her fingers against one throbbing temple. "You think those bomb threats are real, or just people being nervous?"
Alastair took in Dar's tense body posture. He'd seen Dar in a number of business situations now, and he knew how hard it was to rattle her. Being almost fired by the board hadn't. Standing up to new clients like Sir Melthon hadn't. Even being in a hospital collapse had produced nothing more than that cool, collected front that put forward total confidence and belief in self.
This was different, and he recognized that. This was personal. "Kerry make it to Washington?" he asked casually. "She doing okay?"
Dar went still for a minute, then she looked up, an openly vulnerable look on her face that probably surprised both of them. Then she took a breath and glanced out the window. "She's fine," she said, in an even voice. "I'm just not crazy about having her around things that might blow up."
"Well." Her boss folded his hands over his knee. "Tell her to get in a damn car, and start driving away from the place and keep going. Get the hell out of town or--hey, head back to Miami."
Dar refused to meet his eyes. "It's her job to be there."
"Oh, screw that," Alastair snorted. "Please. Give me a break, Dar. Do you really think this job or any job is worth harming a hair on her head, or yours, or mine for that matter?"
"No."
Alastair waited. "But?"
Dar took a breath. "I can't tell her not to do her job," she said. "Not if everyone else is doing theirs. She won't take that from me."
Her boss studied her in silence for a moment. "That's complicated," he said, eventually. "Dar, I don't envy your balancing act there." He reached over and clasped her shoulder. "Want me to tell her?"
She appreciated, truly, what Alastair was saying. However, she'd agreed with Kerry that she needed to go to Herndon to do what it was the company paid her for, and at this stage, it was all in motion. "No." She glanced up at him. "She's a big girl, and she can make her own choices. Sending her off to hide somewhere is only going to royally piss her off."
Alastair pondered that, then he nodded. "I can buy that," he said. "But lady, it's tough watching you sweat, know what I mean?"
Dar smiled faintly. Then she was saved by her cell phone ringing again. She opened it up and glanced at the screen, a prickle making her nape hairs stand when she saw Gerry's name. "Ah." She pressed the talk button. "Gerry??"
"Dar! Where in the hell are you?" the general asked.
"London," Dar said. "Glad to hear your voice."
"What? Oh." Gerald Easton paused. "Bastards."
"Mm," Dar agreed. "Ker said you were trying to get in touch with me. I'm on my way to the airport," she explained. "Everyone okay on your end?"
The General sighed. "The family's fine,"he said. "Listen, Dar, I need to speak with you right away." He cleared his throat. "You're in London, are you? We can fly you back here."
Dar glanced at Alastair, whose brows were twitching. "We've already got a plane chartered, Gerry. But what did you have in mind?"
"Hang on." He clicked off.
Dar exhaled. "Wants to fly me back to the states. Says he needs to talk to me," she told her boss. "Doesn't sound good."
"Mm." Alastair grunted. "Depends what he wants to talk about, I suppose."
"Hello, Dar?" Gerry came back abruptly. "We can have a transport pick you up just near dinnertime there. How's that?"
"Our flight leaves at 10:00 a.m., Gerry. I think it'll be faster, but--" Dar considered. "We're flying into Mexico and driving to Houston. I could use a lift from there."
"Houston!" General Easton spluttered. "What in the hell's the--oh, that's right. That's where your paycheck's cut, isn't it? Okay, call me when you land in Mexico. We can swing that easier than the overseas flight."
"Okay," Dar said. "Kerry's in Washington. Anything she can help with?"
"Is she?" General Easton asked. "I think I should talk to you first, Dar. It's a little sticky."
"All right," she responded. "Gerry, this doesn't have anything to do with a bunch of suits showing up at our Herndon office does it?"
Long pause. "Eh?" Gerry grunted. "Well, to be honest, it's hard to tell from here right now what has to do with anything, Dar. Do yourself a favor though, will you? Don't say no to anything right off. There's a bit of a headless viper lashing around and I don't' want you to get bit."
Uh oh. "Okay," Dar said. "I'll call you from Mexico City then. I have a commuter scheduled for the border."
"Right. Gotta go, Dar. Good to hear your voice too. Glad you were out of harm's way." The line went dead, leaving a faint echo in the car.
"Hm." Dar closed the phone. "Headless viper." She looked at her boss. "That doesn't sound any good."
"Sure doesn't," Alastair murmured. "Sure doesn't."
CYNTHIA STUART SAT quietly, sipping her morning tea and watching the sky outside turn from black to gray with the coming dawn. She'd woken early, as she always did, and treasured the peace of the early morning to think about the coming day and go over her busy schedule.
She opened her organizer and flipped to the last page she'd updated from the day before, going over her notes, rereading again the horrors she'd put down in brief entries.
Only by reading the words was she really able to absorb the fact that all the terrible things had, in fact, happened. Sitting here in this lovely hotel room, it cut through the surrealness. After a moment, she closed the book and got up, walking silently across the floor to the door across from the table.
She pushed it in and peered inside, her eyes adjusting to the dim light as she studied the large bed inside with its still asleep occupant.
Kerry was curled on her side, her head on one pillow and her arm wrapped around a second. Relaxed in slumber, she was far less threatening a presence, and seeing the familiar position reluctantly made her mother smile.
Her eldest. Cynthia sighed and closed the door retreating back to the table and settling down to resume her notes. She picked up a pen and found her place and scribed a careful addition as she shook her head over the subject. "Terrible."
The world was still gripped in its peculiar insanity, it seemed. She picked up her morning news brief, delivered quietly by her staff, and reread it. If she looked out the big windows at the edge of the hotel room, she knew she would see flashing lights and the oddness of military transports in the streets and, for a moment, she honestly regretted her decision to complete her husband's government term.
It would indeed have been better to be home. There was Angela and her children to get settled and many small things requiring her attention. Perhaps she could have also had another day of Kerry and Michael's presence to make it seem as though her family wasn't quite as fractured as, in truth, it was.
Hard on the furniture that it might have been. Cynthia glanced up and smiled, hearing the echoes of that laughter the day before, and Kerry's exasperated "Michael!" that had brought back so many more pleasant memories.
"Good morning."
Cynthia jumped a little, not expecting the sound. She looked up to find Kerry in the door to her bedroom, still dressed in just a T-shirt. "Good morning," she replied. "Did the room service wake you? I'm sorry if it did. He was trying to be very quiet."
"No." Kerry came over and sat down at the table. "I've been up. I didn't really sleep that well." She rested her forearms on the table and laced her fingers together. "Too many things on my mind, I think."
The older woman studied her daughter. The tanned, serious face u
nder it's mop of shaggy blond hair was a little unfamiliar to her now. The planes of her face had gotten a little longer, the jawline a touch more rounded, and there was a definite wariness shadowing the light green eyes that hadn't been there before.
The T-shirt she wore pulled tight over her shoulders as she leaned against the table, showing the outline of muscles Cynthia didn't find appealing. She didn't really approve of women working so hard and gaining the attributes she more properly applied to men.
Though it really wasn't terribly unattractive. When her daughter was properly dressed it lent her body a pleasantly tapered shape despite her carrying more weight on her frame than ever before. It wasn't really fat, and it wasn't really the slimness she preferred. It just seemed odd to her.
Cynthia supposed it gained her nothing to mention it. Kerry was obviously content with the way she looked and perhaps her own view was a little biased as she'd heard from friends around town how everyone else seemed to think she looked quite good, really.
Ah well.
She glanced at the strong hands on the table, her eye catching a glint as the light reflected off a ring on Kerry's third finger. It was attractive and refined, and it fit her well. "That's a lovely ring," Cynthia said. "Is it new?"
Kerry glanced at her hand. "No," she said. "Dar gave it to me at our commitment ceremony," she explained. "We exchanged rings."
Cynthia pondered over that. Commitment ceremony? "Is that--" She paused, not wanting to upset her daughter with any assumptions over breakfast. "What exactly is that? What does it mean?"
Kerry tapped her thumbs together. "What does that mean?" She mused. "I'm not sure what it means to everyone else, but to Dar and I, it means we belong to each other." Her fingers flexed a little. "We're married," she clarified.
She glanced up to gauge her mother's response, seeing mostly a mildly encouraging thoughtfulness there. "As legally as we can be, of course, since our government seems to think gay marriage is as dangerous as an unstable nuclear stockpile." She added a wry smile. "Dar and I had to spend a long time with a lawyer to get the same legal protection a five minute blood test and signature get for everyone else who isn't gay."
