Red-and-white ribbon? Oh, no.
“Now,” microphone lady echoed.
From the crowd, a dark-haired girl slowly stood.
Beaker.
[9]
Narrowing her eyes, the America’s Cheer team leader pointed across the crowd to Beaker. “Spit it out.”
Beaker lifted her brows, all innocent. “Spit what out?”
The team leader buried her lips in the microphone. “The gum.”
Throughout the crowd, cheerleaders gasped.
I rolled my eyes.
Beaker delicately cleared her throat. “I don’t have any gum.”
Team leader crooked her finger. “Come here.”
Beaker inched her way past the other cheerleaders sitting in her row and out into the aisle. Whispers trickled through the crowd as she walked down to the front. In unison, the current America’s Cheer team authoritatively shook their heads at her.
This was ridiculous.
The team leader pinched Beaker’s chin. “Open up.”
Beaker did.
Pursing her lips, the team leader inspected Beaker’s mouth. “Tongue.”
She lifted her tongue.
Letting go of Beaker’s chin, the team leader turned toward the crowd. “Who in here saw this competitor with gum?”
Almost everyone’s hand went up.
Come on, people.
The team leader turned back to Beaker. “Clearly, you have swallowed it. Give me three times around the room. The cheer is ’G-U-M. Gum makes me look like a bum.’ ” The team leader leaned in. “And make it look good, or you’re going to do it again.”
Beaker’s jaw clenched, and I could almost visualize the steam shooting from her ears.
I glanced down the row of people with me along the back wall. Stoically, TL stood near the end, keeping his gaze glued on Beaker.
His concentrated expression reminded me of the Rissala mission. He’d taught me how to send supportive, mental energy to Wirenut.
I know. It sounds weird. But it really works.
I turned my attention back to Beaker at the front and focused all my brain cells on sending her you-can-do-this vibes.
Inch by inch her cheeks crept upward into a gigantic, face-splitting grin. She took off around the room, clapping and jogging. "G-U-M! Gum makes me look like a bum!”
She circled around the back, came right past me, and didn’t even spare me a glance.
I bet she hated me right now. Thanks to me and my friendly gum, she was running laps.
Beaker went down the room’s other side and back across the front. "G-U-M! Gum makes me look like a bum!”
Some of the girls sarcastically clapped with her; others snickered. A few started bee-bopping in their chairs.
How would they feel if they were the ones put on the spot? I bet they wouldn’t find it so entertaining then.
Beaker circled three complete times, smiling as she jogged, clapped, and chanted. She didn’t look at me once.
She trotted to a stop back at the front and went straight into a back handspring. She came out of it and into a liberty, with her right foot on the inside of her left knee and her arms straight up. “Go, America’s Cheer!”
And make it look good, or you’re going to do it again.
Beaker’s handspring definitely made it look good.
The America’s Cheer team did matching liberties. “Go, America’s Cheer!”
Everyone in the crowd hopped to their feet. “Go, America’s Cheer!”
And then the place broke into wild applause. They were like possessed, brain-washed cheerleaders.
You will be obnoxiously excited. You will snicker and make fun of others. You will spell everything you say.
I smiled. Sometimes I really amused myself.
The cheering died down, and everyone took their seats again.
The team leader brought the microphone back to her mouth. “Okay. Let’s finish taking roll, then we’ll briefly go over the schedule and break for lunch.”
Quickly, she went through the list, hitting my name a fourth of the way down and Beaker’s a little after.
After she finished, the team leader shuffled some papers. “Each of you has a schedule in your registration packets. That schedule could change, depending on various things. You will be notified immediately of any changes. You are expected to be prompt for meals. Breakfast at seven, lunch at noon, dinner at five. All mornings are reserved for physical fitness and learning new routines. Afternoons are for run-throughs, team practice, and meetings. Evenings will be group functions. All contestants are expected to attend everything. Any absences mean points deducted from your team’s final score.”
On and on she went, seeming to fill every minute of every day. I didn’t know how we would find time to do the things we needed to do for our mission.
“Dismissed,” the team leader announced without asking for questions.
Girls filed passed me as I hung back, waiting for Beaker and TL.
“I’ll have some juice, but that’s it. I weighed in two pounds too heavy this morning.”
“This bra is driving me nuts.”
“Oh my God! My ribbon broke!”
“Good thing nobody saw the gum in my mouth.”
“Hi!” Jessy and Lessy waved as they passed me.
I waved back.
With Beaker behind him, TL grabbed my arm and kept right on going out the door. We cut off from the lunch line, down a hallway, and around a corner.
He glanced around to make sure we were alone and let go of my arm. He did not look happy. Pulling the blue pyramid from his pocket, he rotated it on. “Where were you?”
“I-I was in my room looking at the equipment.”
“You are always, always to inform me of where you are and what you are doing.” His jaw hardened. “Do we understand each other?”
"Y-yes, sir.” But I thought this was my mission. I thought I was the one leading.
“You designed this mission,” he continued, “but it doesn’t mean you act on your own accord. I am the one who is ultimately in charge. I have to know where you are at all times. What if something had happened? What if something had gone wrong? What if someone from home base had contacted me and wanted to know your whereabouts? I can’t say ‘I don’t know.’ How do you think that would make me look? Us look?”
I hadn’t thought about it like that. I swallowed. “I’m sorry. I should’ve texted you to let you know I was going back to the room.”
TL took a step back. “I’m not saying you can’t make your own decisions. I’m saying you must keep me informed of your locale. ”
TL turned to Beaker. “Or you should’ve told me. We’re a team. We work as a unit.”
Beaker and I nodded.
“Okay. Enough said.” His cell phone buzzed, and, unclipping it from his waistband, he checked the display and answered his phone, “One second.” He reached inside his pocket and pulled out two sugar packets. “It’s the crystallized siumcy Beaker created. Nalani slipped me a couple packs. Make sure each of your roommates ingests this. The Tricsurv it goes with is in your equipment supplies. You’ll know where your roommates are at all times.”
Beaker turned to me. “What’s a Tricsurv?”
I took a second to simplify the explanation in my brain. “The Tricsurv is a tracker. It looks like a computer chip and is usually inserted into a specialized watch. But since we’re not allowed to wear watches, Chapling and I rigged everyone’s cell phone to accept it. It’ll give us our roommates coordinates at all times.”
“When did you create that?” Beaker asked.
I shook my head. “I didn’t. The Specialists already had it. When you told David and me about your powdered GPS compound, I knew it would work perfect with the Tricsurv. Tricsurv’s been used for years in GPS situations. By the way, does the siumcy taste like anything?”
“Nothing,” Beaker answered. “The twins won’t even know.”
I pocketed the sugar packets, excited to us
e them.
“Okay. I don’t want either of you skipping meals on this trip. Keep your energy up.” TL strode off down the hall, and we headed back the way we came.
“Let me give David a quick update.” I got out my cell and punched UNEXPECTED ROOMATES. LOCATED EQUIPMENT . . . SAW EDUARDO.
He responded within seconds. FOCUS ON DNA DUST NEXT . . . YOU OKAY?
I knew he was referring to the “saw Eduardo” part. I WILL BE. BYE.
BYE.
Beaker untied the ribbon from around her neck and crammed it in her pocket. “This thing’s choking me.”
“Sorry about the gum,” I apologized.
She shrugged. “Whatever.”
“That back handspring was pretty impressive.”
She smiled a little.
We crossed through the hotel’s lobby and walked into the large meeting area that would serve as America’s Cheer’s meal room for the week.
A buffet stretched along the side wall. Tables and chairs had been set up cafeteria style, already occupied by bubbly cheerleaders eating their food.
Lessy and Jessy sat right in the center. They waved to us. “We saved you seats,” they yelled over the chattering noise.
We waved back.
The buffet line had died down to nothing. We grabbed plates and loaded up. Turkey sandwiches, potato salad, chips, apple wedges, ginger cookies, carrots with ranch dressing, and cheese cubes.
I took some of everything and extras of the cookies. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.
Beaker and I wove around the tables, heading toward Lessy and Jessy. Whispers followed us.
“What cows.”
“Oh my God. Did you see all their food?”
“And they think they’re going to make the team?” Snort. “Not on that diet.”
I glanced around at the other girls’ plates. Carrot sticks on one. A piece of turkey on another. One lousy scoop of potato salad on another.
No wonder they were all so skinny.
Beside me, Beaker grabbed a cookie and shoved it in her mouth. “Mmm-mmm, good.”
I rolled my lips in so I wouldn’t laugh.
We sat our plates down at Lessy and Jessy’s table.
“Hi!” I greeted them cheerily, then realized I didn’t need to. This was Lessy and Jessy, aspiring country singers. They were acting a role just like us.
In fact—I glanced around—I’d bet there were more people who didn’t want to be here either.
“Lord.” Jessy blinked a few times. “You’re really going to eat all that?”
“Yep, and I’ll probably go back for seconds,” I bragged.
Lessy put her hand over her heart. “My hero.”
“Dangit.” I got back up. “I forgot to get sweet tea. Ya’ll want some?”
They looked unexcitedly at their water, then across the room to the drinks table.
“Oh, come on,” I teased. “Live a little. I dare you to have extra sugar in it.” Nobody could refuse a dare.
They both narrowed their eyes. “Bring it on.”
I put my hand over my heart. “My heroes.”
They giggled.
Beaker and I crossed the room to the drinks table. She grabbed two teas and I did, too, dumping in real sugar combined with my tracking “sugar.”
“That was almost too easy,” Beaker mumbled as we made our way back to Lessy and Jessy.
Eagerly, they gulped down half of their tea. Jeez, these girls needed to live a little.
Jessy wiped her mouth. “Nice gum chanting, Tiffany.”
Beaker playfully smirked.
The pink-and-green team out of Portland strolled past, slanting us a haughty look. What the heck? They’d been so friendly earlier.
Jessy leaned close to me. “Don’t you hate that? To your face everyone’s all smiley and friendly. But they’re all a bunch of back stabbers. Especially if they think you’re better than them.”
Better than them? I almost snorted. I could barely do a back handspring.
“Don’t look.” Lessy surreptitiously pointed her carrot across the room. “But I heard the red-haired girl on the black-and-yellow team is a genius. She’s got an IQ higher than like Einstein or something.”
A genius? I turned and looked.
Jessy yanked me back around. “She said don’t look.”
“Sorry.”
A genius? Wow. For some reason I hadn’t thought of cheerleaders as geniuses.
Lessy gulped down the rest of her tea. “We’re going to walk down to the beach. Wanna come?”
I shook my head. “Nah. I’m going to watch some TV.” Perfect time to check out the equipment and possibly rig Eduardo Villanueva’s room for surveillance.
Beaker swallowed her turkey bite. “Me, too.” She checked her watch. “There’s only thirty minutes before our first practice.”
Jessy grabbed all of her and Lessy’s garbage. “Suit yourselves. Later, ya’ll.”
We waved as they strolled off, quickly shoved in a mouthful of food, and hightailed it out of there.
Up the elevator, down the hall, and into our room we went. Beaker texted TL to let him know where we were while I texted Nalani.
EV LOCATION? I typed.
ROOM. Nalani responded.
Perfect. “He’s in his room. We can do the DNA dust.”
Quickly, I showed Beaker how to open the bed’s secret panel.
I took two Tricsurv chips and plugged them into my phone and into hers. A satellite image of our hotel and surrounding area flicked onto the display. Two red dots popped up.
“That’d be Lessy and Jessy.” I tapped the dots. “And they’re on the beach just like they said. The Tricsurv will beep when they get within twenty feet of us.”
“That’s barely enough time to put all this back together.”
“I know.” I put the phone on the nightstand. “We need to work quickly.”
Beaker lifted a tray full of all sorts of powders, liquids, and chemistry stuff from the secret panel.
She grabbed a bag of clear crystals.
While she began mixing the DNA dust, I pulled the mini-laptop from my luggage, powered up, and connected to our satellite. I slipped on my glasses and keyed in the scrambler code and the coordinates to Eduardo Villanueva’s room. The satellite zeroed in on the hotel and X-rayed through the roof and straight into the presidential suite.
The Winning Element (The Specialists) Page 13
