Read Ebook: An Encounter in Atlanta by Howdershelt Ed

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 15 lines and 77948 words, and 1 pages

Ahmed Musaffi combined three prayers on Friday afternoon; one for his family, one for himself, and one for success in his holy mission. He then got into the yellow Crown Victoria that had been provided for the occasion and drove the few miles from Cascade Heights into downtown Atlanta through a drizzling rain. The Crown Vic had been 'heavily customized' -- a choice of words that had been a source of great amusement among those who had labored for a week to pack the trunk and every concealable cubic inch of the car with plastic explosive. Every little bump in the road bottomed-out the shocks and springs, and despite what he'd been told about his load being detonated only by radio, Ahmed flinched hard at every jolt and swore viciously at the other cars around him. A red, hard plastic suitcase shifted slightly on the seat next to him. Ahmed reached to push it back in place and briefly cursed the fool who'd perched it there, although no wires showed and there was no chance the case would fall. At a red light one block from his goal, Ahmed wiped his face on his sleeves and repeated part of his last prayer -- the part for himself -- one more time as he twisted his grip on the steering wheel. Clusters of people hurried across the street, some in various costumes he recognized. Spiderman led Wonder Woman at a laughing dash to the shelter of an awning, where they were joined by Lara Croft, a tall, furry creature, and a couple of white-armored stormtroopers. Ridiculous fantasies of the unfaithful, thought Ahmed. There was only one true book under heaven and no man had ever been so foolish as to try to make a movie of it. Ahmed's little group had been instructed to strike on the second day of the science fiction convention. No reasons had been given for choosing this particular event as a target and -- as far as Ahmed was concerned -- none were required. Their leader had spoken, and his words were the words of Allah in matters of their holy cause. When the light turned green, Ahmed's jangling nerves caused him to goose the gas pedal. The back tires spun uselessly on the wet pavement until he rather shakily let up on the gas a bit. Continuing up the street, he turned left into the covered driveway of the Rivage Hotel's reception area and joined a line of cars waiting their turns to load or offload passengers and luggage at the big glass doors at the top of the driveway. Ahmed's was the fifth car in line when a family of five came through those doors and walked past him, evidently on their way to some part of the science fiction convention. The three children all wore costumes; the two boys were waving their hollow plastic lightsabers at each other and the blonde girl -- perhaps as old as twelve -- was wearing a Batgirl costume and slinging her cape dramatically as she walked. A pang of pity lanced through Ahmed, but then he remembered his teachings, hardened his heart, and severely chastised himself for his momentary weakness. They were just infidels. Untaught, unholy, and therefore unfit to live. He moved forward another carlength, and again watched the family in his rearview mirror as they stood waiting to cross the street. The blonde girl grinningly faced into the gusting wind to make her cape billow behind her. Too bad, Ahmed thought appraisingly. The girl might possibly have been found worthy of conversion to Islam. Or not, he appended, remembering the dancers at the strip club the night before. After all, even infidel females were good for purposes of pleasure and labor. In the pure world that he and other holy martyrs would bring into being, their children would be raised according to the teachings of the Prophet and the women would be allowed to live only so long as they dutifully served the righteous and faithful. The car by the doors moved away as people got into the car behind it. It then moved away, as well, and Ahmed was only one carlength away from where he could aim his fake taxi up the ramp at the doors. He eyed the walkway ramp -- easily five meters wide, with no posts or other impediments -- and the doors above. In the center was a revolving door, flanked on either side by doors that swung open. They would prove no barrier. All he had to do was ram through and get the car into the lobby, then press the button on the transmitter in his raincoat pocket. Motion in his side-rearview mirror and the sound of something hollow clattering on the ground caused him to look away from the doors. A truly beautiful blonde woman in what appeared to be little more than a bathing suit and boots stood just behind his car. She seemed to be looking for something, probably some sort of accessory to her scandalously inadequate costume. Thinking that she must also be a visitor to the science fiction convention, Ahmed's eyes locked on her marvelous bare legs and ample bosom for some moments as she crouched and knelt to try to reach whatever had fallen beneath the taxi. Her eyes met his in the mirror and she smiled coyly as she walked up the driveway. Allah be praised for letting such a magnificent woman be his last sight on Earth! And her glorious breasts were nearly leaping out of her costume! Concentrating on her approaching breasts, Ahmed never saw -- and was conscious only long enough to barely feel -- her fist slam into the side of his head. The blow sent him sprawling against the luggage on the seat and into oblivion. The woman quickly shifted the car into neutral, went behind it to grab the bumper, and began pulling the Crown Vic backward down the ramp to the street, where she jumped to the front of the car, lifted it by the bumper and reached under it to grip the frame, and launched upward with the Crown Vic dangling from her grasp. From the indoor cafe across the street, Mohammed Jamal took his eyes off the policeman and another man who were having a light lunch at a nearby table and stared with incredulous awe as a half-naked blonde woman lifted the Crown Victoria and seemed to leap into the sky with it. He'd frozen in mid-sip of his coffee with as much complete, mind-boggling shock as anyone else witnessing the event, but he recovered fairly quickly as he realized that there was still a slim chance to set off the bomb in or near the canyon-like confines of the streets. Hurriedly putting down his coffee cup, he reached for the transmitter in his left coat pocket, but the chair arm got in his way. He stood up, wasting precious seconds and knocking his chair over as he continued to stare upward through the window at the Crown Vic. He'd finally managed to get his left hand into his pocket as the two men he'd been watching also stood up and began coming at him. The one in a police uniform pointed at Jamal and said, "Freeze!" as he reached for his sidearm. Jamal -- his radio transmitter momentarily forgotten -- made a grab for his Beretta 9mm pistol in his right coat pocket. Jamal had thought the cop was the greater danger. He was wrong; before Jamal could even finish bringing his own gun into line with the two men, the other man yanked a pistol from a shoulder holster, leveled it at Jamal, and fired twice. Mohammed Jamal felt the hot slugs plunge completely through his chest as their impact slammed him back against the window facing the street. He was barely aware that he fired his Beretta as he toppled; for a moment he actually wondered why the light fixture by the coffee bar exploded. The bullets that had passed through Jamal hit the window behind him a split-second before Jamal did, turning it into a ten-foot-tall spiderweb of shattered safety glass that collapsed around Jamal's body in a glittering cloud as he fell to the sidewalk below. The bushes below the window snagged Jamal's coat and violently twisted him in mid-air, then he fell to the sidewalk on his left side, hearing and feeling the bones of his arm snap as his head slammed against the concrete. Momentarily stunned, Mohammed Jamal fought to remain conscious and stared upward, trying to locate the Crown Victoria. There! Almost directly overhead, an odd-shaped dark dot against the sky! Jamal waveringly aimed his pistol at the men who leaned out of the window frame above him and prayed to Allah that his transmitter hadn't been broken. Forcing the unfeeling thumb and fingers of his shattered left arm to squeeze the small transmitter took a supreme effort. Jamal cast the pistol aside in frustration and dropped his right hand over his left to help it close on the transmitter even as more bullets tore through his chest and skull.

Looking down from the cafe window at the man he'd just shot, Ed Cade saw the brilliant overhead flash reflected in the windows of the hotel across the street and realized that something -- likely the car -- had exploded above the city. Some guy dressed as a knight was standing smack in the middle of the street, aiming a camera of some sort straight up at the sky. The light turned green at the intersection and the guy almost tripped over his sword trying to scramble out of the street. Cade stepped back from the window and looked to his left and right. There was only the Atlanta cop -- Avery -- standing next to him on the right. On his left, one person still sat by the windows, apparently frozen in stark, staring terror. "Get away from the windows," said Cade. Avery stepped back as Cade grabbed the frozen guy's coat to pull him to his feet and insistently repeated, "Get away from the window, dammit!" The man's eyes fixed on Cade's Glock and he said nothing, but as bits of debris pelted down on the street outside the window, he stood quickly on shaky legs and tried to comply. His knees failed and he wound up kneeling, then sitting on the floor. Avery came over to get a grip on the guy's other shoulder and they dragged him away from the windows. The rain of unidentifiable debris slackened quickly and seemed to end, and Avery started back toward the window to look up between the buildings. "Avery!" said Cade. "Not yet. Count to thirty before you go near that window." Cade put his Glock back in its shoulder holster under his field jacket and looked around again. Nine people. Five men, four women. Two had apparently left the cafe. He heard more debris-rain hit the street and buildings outside and saw Avery cast a wondering glance at him. "Some of it had farther to fall," said Cade. As if to punctuate his words, a car bumper slammed into the street, narrowly missing a black Lexus, and spinningly bounced out of view toward the intersection. Glancing past the group clustered by the cafe entrance, Cade saw the two missing women hurrying past the reception desk and he took off after them at a trot. He caught up with them by the elevators and didn't bother with introductions; they'd likely remember him. Stepping in front of them, he said, "Ladies, get back to the cafe. You're witnesses to a shooting." "I'm not going back in there!" the one on the right said in a near-hysterical tone. "I'm not! You can't make me!" Snatching her purse off her shoulder, Cade said, "I won't have to. The cops'll find you with whatever's in this." Turning to the other woman, he asked, "Are you going to give me a hard time, too?" Shaking her head slightly, she said, "No. I didn't think we should leave, but Judy..." Interrupting her, Cade said, "Cool. Let's go, then." Putting his arm through hers, he led the way back to the restaurant. After a moment, Judy followed. Cade turned the ladies and Judy's purse over to Avery, then stepped away from the group to have a look at the street below the window. The street was empty of people. Between the blonde hauling the car upstairs, the gunshots, and the blast in the sky, most of them had at least had sense enough to get off the sidewalks and under the cover of the Rivage's drive-through. The rent-a-cop who'd been directing foot traffic across the street between the hotels was one of those under cover. Cade whistled to get his attention and pointed to the body on the sidewalk, then yelled that he should keep people away from it. The guy nodded and headed toward the body. Cade went back to Avery, who was talking to someone on his radio. Avery finished his immediate conversation, then turned to Cade and said, "Teams five and nine got lucky, too. Two dead and one in custody. The guys on the roof are coming down, so we'll have some help here in a few minutes." Nodding, Cade said, "I'll go out and keep the tourists away from the one on the sidewalk." Extending a hand, Avery said, "Okay. Hey, if I don't see you again, it's been good working with you. Why won't they tell us where you extra guys came from?" Shaking Avery's hand, Cade said, "Damned if I know. I'm from Florida, if it helps any." "Oh, yeah," laughed Avery. "That helps a bunch." "Great. Later, then." Moving past the coffee bar, Cade stopped and looked around for the attendant, then knocked on the counter. A man in a suit separated himself from the crowd by the door and came to say that the coffee bar was closed. "You're management?" asked Cade. "Yes, sir. Look, we're rather busy at the moment..." "I'm the guy who shot out your window and I have to go guard a body on the sidewalk. How much is a coffee to go?" The man seemed to have to find a way to attach the two concepts in his mind before he said, "Uh, just take one, sir." "Thanks. Why not offer all those spooked people a cup, too? It'll look great on your record if you take charge and keep them quiet and happy until all the note-taking is finished." The guy glanced at the group and seemed to realize that this was his middle-management chance to achieve some favorable and potentially useful self-publicity. He nodded and stepped behind the counter to draw Cade a coffee as he called the attendant over. "Yes, Mr. D'Angelo?" asked the attendant. Handing the coffee to Cade, D'Angelo said, "Go ahead and open back up, Manuel. Free coffee for anybody who's supposed to be in here until the cops are gone." "Yes, sir," said Manuel. "Could I have an extra coffee?" asked Cade. Manuel drew another coffee and handed it to him. Cade thanked him and headed for the stairs to the street. The rent-a-cop was standing by the body, as requested. He said, "You're the guy who told me to watch the body." Cade handed him the extra coffee and said, "Yup, sure am. Here, I brought you a coffee." Someone aimed a camera toward them and Cade turned to face the cop -- Davies, by his nametag -- as the camera flashed. He kicked the gun that had fallen into the bushes over by the body and toed it under a fold in the coat. "Should you be moving the evidence around like that?" asked Davies. "So tell 'em I kicked it. I just came down here to get your name and badge number for the record and secure the scene." Shrugging as he looked around, Cade said, "Now the scene is secure, I have my info, and you have your coffee. Just stay put until the cops get here." Davies almost choked on his first sip of coffee. He glanced down at the body, then stared at Cade as he asked, "But... You mean you aren't a cop?!" "Never said I was," said Cade. "I've just been working with them today. See you later." As Cade turned to go, the guard said, "Hey, wait. Is there any word about the blonde? The woman who, uh... who flew off... with the car?" "I haven't heard anything." Glancing up at the sky, Davies said, "God, I hope she wasn't still hanging onto that car when it blew. I was looking right at it, but it was too far up... Do you think she...?" "No idea," said Cade. "Later." With that, he headed back up the steps and into the hotel, where he gave Davies' info to Avery and refilled his coffee cup, then sat down in a corner of the cafe with an incident report form to wait for Lieutenant Bain.

The door to room 422 opened as Mandi neared it and a tall guy in jeans, cowboy boots, and a green Army field jacket stepped out. He pulled the door shut with a glance in her direction that turned into a rather long look, then he hefted his black backpack and followed her toward the elevators. He had to be close to fifty; Mandi wondered which team he was with, and in what capacity. All the rooms from 420 to 430 had been reserved as a block to centralize personnel, so he had to be some kind of a cop or fed. Or a liaison? Pressing the 'down' button, she heard -- no, she 'felt' -- the man come to stand quietly a few feet behind her. Very quietly, she added after a few moments. Almost unnaturally quietly. There was no rubbing of fabric or scuffing of his boots on the carpet. No shifting of his backpack or even the soft creak of old boot leather as weight shifted from one leg to the other. The guy was an embodiment of silence. Mandi had to actually focus her hearing a bit to be sure he was breathing, and she found it mildly unnerving that anyone could stand so silently for so long. Another few moments passed before she turned and grinningly said with a raised eyebrow, "Just checking to see if you're really back there. You're very quiet." He nodded slightly and returned her grin. When she'd turned, his eyes hadn't been on her butt or her legs, as she'd expected. They'd been on her hair or shoulders, because they'd met her eyes instantly. Mandi found that odd, too. The guy seemed to study her face as he said, "Yeah, I guess I am kind of quiet sometimes. That's a nice outfit, milady. It doesn't scream 'look at me!', but it can't very easily be ignored, either." 'Milady'? Who calls a woman 'milady' these days? Mandi accepted his compliment as given and saw his eyes drop to her breasts. Correction; to her badge, which hung from one of her tiny demi-lapels. Her eyes fell to his badge in return. "Mandi Steele," he read, extending his hand. "Hi, Mandi. I'm Ed Cade." His eyes returned to hers as she shook his hand and said, "So I see. Nice to meet you. Why's the name block on your badge light blue?" "I'm registered as a guest author. Artists get a different color -- light green, I think. Staff types get red or yellow." She glanced at his badge again, then asked, "Are you staying on this floor? Was that your room you came out of?" "Yup." "I don't think anyone else on this floor is registered as a guest author. Why you?" "Maybe it's because I'm really an author." Uh, huh, thought Mandi. Or maybe he was a reporter who'd gotten wind of something? He'd come out of one of the rooms in the agency block, but... Her expression made him add, "I'm with John's crew. They pulled me out of retirement for this op when they found out I'd be here anyway." If anything, her puzzlement grew. "Retirement? From what? You don't look old enough to be retired." Shrugging slightly, Cade said, "I am, though. Retired, that is. So I must be old enough, I guess. How about you? Which team are you with?" "No team. John put me in as a standalone." "Woo! A superspook, huh? Foreign or domestic? There seem to be some of each here today." Shaking her head, Mandi said, "No, I'm not exactly with the NIA. I've been, uhm... coordinating things, you could say." Something in Cade's expression seemed to change almost imperceptibly as he nodded without comment. Mandi instantly got the impression that he didn't believe her. "What is it?" she asked with a small smile, "The fact that I'm a blonde? Don't you think I could coordinate anything?" Raising a hand slightly in protest, Cade grinningly said, "Oh, no, milady, it's nothing like that. I'm sure you're very good at what you do. I have no doubt you could run an office if you had to. You'd look absolutely great while you did it, too." Thinking that Cade meant that he thought she might be one of those 'secretaries' who can't really type, Mandi asked rather ominously, "What the hell are you getting at?" She wasn't in the least prepared for his answer. "Mandi," said Cade, "I saw you haul a car into the sky today. Admin types don't do stuff like that. They don't like to get their hands dirty." A jolt shot through Mandi and her gaze at Cade narrowed peeringly as she quietly asked, "Are you nuts?! If you are, just tell me now so I can get the hell away from you, okay?" The red 'down' light came on as the elevator chimed its arrival. Cade stepped around Mandi to clear the doorway. Shifting his backpack slightly, he said, "Yeah, I was afraid you might react like that. The dealer's room can wait. Let's go back to my room for some show and tell." The elevator doors opened as Mandi whisperingly blurted, "What?!" Nobody got off the elevator and the people aboard it looked questioningly at Mandi and Cade until the doors closed again. Once they were alone, Mandi stepped very close to Cade and was about to say something scathing when Cade said, "Okay, maybe that was a poor choice of words, but I guarantee you'll be glad I showed you the pictures." Hovering between anger and startlement, Mandi peered at Cade sharply as she asked, "What pictures?!" Shifting his backpack around front, Cade unzipped it and fished out the three printouts, which he handed to her. "The pictures these blowups were made from," he said. "A kid with a digital camera took them. He sold them to WNN about an hour ago." After staring at the pictures for all of two seconds, Mandi grabbed her cell phone out of her purse and dialed. Cade heard the same woman he'd talked to perhaps six times in the last few days say, "Zero-eight-two-six." "Angel here," said Mandi. "Go, Angel." "I need to talk to John. Right now." "He'll call you back. Do you need local assistance?" Loudly enough to be heard by the woman on the phone, Cade said, "Tell her Dragonfly said 'no'." "Angel, do you confirm?" asked the woman. Unrealizingly nodding as she studied Cade, Mandi said, "Yes. We aren't in any danger here. We're trying to prevent a blown cover. Mine." "Okay, Angel. Hang up and stand by." "Thank you." For a long few moments, Mandi continued to study Cade in silence, then she said, "We seem to know some of the same people, Dragonfly. I'll accept that as a positive reference." Grinning, Cade said, "Well, that's damned decent of you, ma'am. You're 'Angel', huh? I'd say that fits well enough. What now? I'm pretty sure someone thought of this possibility." Nodding, Mandi said, "They did. We did. Where did you get these printouts?" "I printed them for reference. I thought you might still be in town and I wanted to be able to make a positive ID if I saw you again. Guess I don't really need them now, huh?" Folding the pictures and putting them in her purse, Mandi said, "No, you don't. Do you have any other pictures of me?" "Why even ask? You know they'll toss my room and check my laptop on general principles." Grabbing his jacket and yanking him close, Mandi growled, "Don't be difficult. I'm not in the mood." Almost nose-to-nose with her again, Cade quietly said, "You shouldn't get tough with people who are trying to help you. All the pictures are on my laptop." Mandi's cell phone chirped and she quickly answered it with her free hand, not releasing Cade as she did so. Cade had no problem at all with being an inch from her face. It allowed him to listen easily to both sides of the conversation, which was rather short. "I'll meet you in 422," said John. "Five minutes. Here's Alan. Tell him what you know to get the ball rolling." "Hi, Angel," said Alan. "What have you got for me?" "Nothing," said Cade. "I'm the one with the info." He reached for the phone and Mandi let him take it as she finally released his jacket, then he gave Alan particulars about the kid who'd taken the pictures and the names of those who'd bought the pictures at WNN. "Is that everything you've got on them?" asked Alan. "That's it," said Cade. "If I think of anything else, I've got your number." "Okay, thanks. Put Angel back on." Cade handed the phone back to Mandi and heard Alan say in a rather intense tone, "Angel, we don't know this guy from Adam. He's just a part-time reserve asset that John called in to fill the ranks for this op. I think you should stick to him until we know that we know all he knows." With a laugh, Cade said, "The 'part time reserve asset' isn't exactly unhappy with that idea." "Aw, shit!" said Alan. "He can hear me?" Somewhat acidly, Mandi asked, "Alan, do you have any other shining pearls of wisdom and advice?" "Uh... No. Sorry." "Later, then. Bye." Hefting his backpack as Mandi tapped her phone off and put it away, Cade grinningly offered her his arm and asked, "Shall we go, milady?" Mandi shot him a glare and said, "Yes," as she started walking. Cade followed at a slight distance, the better to eyeball her backside and legs as she marched ahead. Mandi abruptly stopped and waited for him to catch up, her slight glare unabated. "Great legs, ma'am," said Cade. "Great everything, really." She made no reply as she walked beside him. At 422, he let them in and left the door slightly ajar for John, then took his coffee mug to the sink and began making a fresh cup. "Want to try some of my instant coffee?" he asked. "No." As an afterthought, she added, "Thanks, anyway, but we came here to see some pictures." Cade glanced in the mirror. Mandi was standing in the middle of the room. Oh, well. She knew she didn't need an invitation to sit down. Come to think of it, she probably didn't feel any need to sit down as often as regular people did. A sharp double tap at the door announced John's arrival and entrance. The two men with him began methodically searching Cade's room as John approached Mandi and Cade and shook hands with both of them. "Sorry," John said as he gestured at the two guys rooting through Cade's suitcases. "Her people insisted." "Figured they might," said Cade. "Alan seemed the cautious type. If I need one, can I get a loaner laptop while you root through mine?" Nodding, John said, "No problem." He turned to one of the guys searching the room and said, "Chuck, he may be dropping by later to borrow one of the pool laptops." "Yes, sir," said Chuck, resuming his efforts. "Ed," said John, "Alan played back your report on my way here. Can you add anything to it?" "Can't think of a thing, John. All I really had were some names and a room number here at the hotel." After another few moments, Chuck came to look through Cade's backpack and check his pockets, then said, "That's it, sir. Nothing left but the computer." Turning to Cade, he asked, "What's your boot-up password?" "Don't need one," said Cade. "Just hit 'enter'." The guy raised an eyebrow at that, as did John. Laughing, Cade said, "Boot to DOS and you can wipe the password file and reboot without one. I won't keep anything on a computer that I couldn't show my mother." Chuck looked at John and shruggingly nodded agreement. John looked at Cade and said, "Well, okay, then. Sorry for the inconvenience." "Oh, I guess I'll survive," said Cade. "What now? Think you can put a lid on this thing?" "Yeah, we think so. It depends on whether WNN has already sent copies to affiliates." At that, Mandi groaned softly. Cade turned to Mandi and asked, "Mandi, why you don't wear a mask or a hood? Or something?" She replied rather testily, "Do you really think you're the first to suggest that?" "Not likely, and you didn't answer the question." Sighing exasperatedly, she said, "I've tried dozens of the damned things. At high speeds they come apart, blow off, or burn off, and everything I've tried that'll survive and stay put looks like shit. Does that answer your question well enough?" Chuckling, Cade said, "Well, yeah. I guess so." With another quick round of handshakes, John led his search team out of the room, leaving Mandi and Cade to themselves. Mandi called Alan with an update, then sighed and sat down at the room's small desk.

Cade left his coat and gun with John, and for appearances' sake, both Mandi and Cade were taken to the doorway of 831 to let the terrorists see them putting on Kevlar vests as they received platitudinous encouragements. When they were finally sent into the room, Hamad Marjeel stopped them at the doorway and one of his men quickly frisked them for weapons and checked their gear before allowing them to pass. The man then shoved ahead of them into the room to take up a position at one side of the bed. Marjeel and the other two men appeared to be in their twenties and thirties and wore western clothing. All were clean-shaven and only their weapons and attitudes made them look more like terrorists than a trio of off-duty yuppies. As Mandi and Cade emerged from the room's short hallway past the bathroom, they saw two women in their sixties lying stiffly on the bed. A man on each side of the bed held a pistol aimed at each woman's head and Marjeel held a black Beretta 9mm pistol aimed generally between Mandi and Cade. In a tone dripping with disdain, Marjeel said, "Welcome, friends of the media. Before we begin, do you understand that your function here is merely to record my words, and not to speak unless invited to do so?" "Yes," said Mandi. Cade had been examining the side of his camera. He bumped it once with the heel of his hand, listened to it for a moment, then looked up and nodded as he said, "Sure." "Are you having difficulties with your camera?" "Well, it seems okay now. Your guy, there, may have yanked something too hard while he was messing with it." "Are you sure it will work properly? Do you need another?" Holding the camera up and aiming at the ceiling, Cade pulled the trigger. A red 'record' light came on at the front. "Looks like it's working now," said Cade. "I couldn't get the one I wanted to use for this. Somebody probably has it out on the loop, shooting traffic footage or..." "Quiet!" snapped Marjeel. Turning to Mandi, he asked, "Are you ready to begin?" "Yes," said Mandi, thumbing the mike's 'on' switch. "Yeah. Locked and loaded," said Cade, patting the camera. His comment drew narrow glances from Marjeel and one of the other terrorists, which likely meant that the one who'd ignored his words hadn't understood the term. Maybe he didn't speak English? Or maybe he just didn't speak it well. Mandi stood in front of the camera long enough to introduce herself as Mary Winston of WNN and introduce Hamad Marjeel according to what he'd written on a sheet of hotel stationery, then she stepped aside and let him have center stage. Marjeel began reading from a prepared speech that dragged on for a good twenty minutes. It was full of catchwords and phrases dear to the hearts of America-bashers everywhere, but it also contained quite a bit of Islamic religious rhetoric. He started the speech conversationally enough in firm tones, but soon he began to sound a bit strident, and by the time he hit the third or fourth page, he sounded a helluva lot like Adolf Hitler, almost ranting at the camera. The speech ended rather abruptly and Marjeel seemed to compose himself in silence for some moments before saying, "Now it is time to prove yet again to the Great Satan America that we are not only willing to kill, we are willing to die." He'd barely begun to turn toward the bed when Cade let up on the camera's trigger, again whacked the side of the camera, and said, "Hey, wait one. Damn. Can we get another take on that last bit?" Everybody was looking at him as if he was crazy, including Mandi. Cade thumped the camera again and triggered it briefly, making the light flicker, then thumped it again. "Well, that's it," said Cade. "Did we get enough?" Raising his pistol, Marjeel thundered, "Do you wish to die?!" One of the guys by the bed -- the possible non-English speaker -- also aimed his gun at Cade and the other guy's gun wavered from the woman who'd been his target. Holding the camera in both hands as if offering it to Marjeel, Cade said, "Well, here, dude. You try to make it work." When Marjeel grabbed for the camera's handle, Cade shoved the camera at Marjeel's face like a basketball. Launching himself right behind the camera, Cade drove Marjeel across the room and to the floor, his left hand locked on the wrist of Marjeel's gun hand and his right grasping the front of the terrorist's shirt. They landed hard, both of Cade's knees tightly together in the center of Marjeel's stomach as his back hit the floor. A loud, shouting groan escaped Marjeel on impact and his body tried to curl up, but Cade was in the way. When Marjeel wouldn't let go of the gun and tried to shove Cade off, Cade rammed an elbow straight down into his throat, then forced Marjeel's gun arm over the camera and leaned on it. There was a sickening snap of bone, Marjeel shrieked, and Cade was at last able to pry the gun out of his fingers. Marjeel tried a rather inept left-handed punch at Cade, so Cade swatted him in the temple with the Beretta to calm him down. Raising his head, Cade looked around. Mandi was standing beside them. Both of the other gunmen were down and their guns were in Mandi's hands. The two hostages were sitting up, barely beginning to realize that their danger was over as what seemed like a dozen more people in SWAT gear flooded the room. Cade rolled off Marjeel and got to his feet, handing the gun to one of the SWAT guys. Marjeel feebly tried to spit at Cade, but missed. He still seemed a bit disoriented. John walked up and extended a hand to Mandi, then to Cade, and said, "Good job, people. Great job." "Thanks," said Mandi. "Yeah," said Cade. "I'll be down the hall." "Okay," said John, "See you in a few." Mandi looked after him quizzically as he left the room and asked John, "Is he okay?" "Sure," said John. "He's like that, that's all. A few minutes from now he'll be his usual cheery self." 'His usual cheery self, huh?' thought Cade with a small grin as he entered the hall and headed for 835. 'Up yours, John.' The guy at the camera console in 835 looked up as Cade came in and started to say something, but Cade raised a hand and said, "Play it back for me. Show me what she did." Nodding, the guy hit rewind as he said, "Good job in there." Another 'good job'. Damn all overused phrases. "Thanks." When the scene on screen had reversed to Cade holding the camera, the guy hit 'play'. Cade kept his eyes on Mandi as the action proceeded. She seemed to leave the floor and lean slightly forward before she almost disappeared completely. The black and blue colors of Mandi's Kevlar jacket and dress seemed to stretch across the room to the first gunman and continued streaking across the bed to the second gunman. Both men fell to the floor at about the same time and the blur came to a stop by the men struggling on the floor. Mandi stood holding both mens' pistols as she watched Marjeel and Cade scuffle. "Jeeezus!" breathed the console guy. "Try it at half-speed," said Cade. The guy stopped the tape and rewound, then set the speed bar and played it again. Mandi was still blurred, but vaguely identifiable as a blonde in a blue dress instead of simply a streak across the screen. They were still unable to see what, exactly, she'd done to the gunmen. "Jeeezus!" the console guy muttered again. Checking his watch against the tape counter, he said, "When you made your move, she took the other two out in less than three-tenths of a second!" "Yeah, she's pretty quick," agreed Cade. "Thanks." He turned from the screen and went to the bathroom, took a leak and washed Marjeel's taint from his hands, then combed his hair and headed back out to the bedroom. Half a dozen people were clustered around the console, playing and replaying Mandi's part of the action and making various amazed comments about her as she appeared in the doorway. For a few moments she watched and listened to them, then she looked at Cade. "Are you all right?" she asked. As Cade said, "Yup," some of the awe-struck people turned to stare at her. Two men hurried over to her, raving about how she'd handled the two gunmen so quickly and helping her out of her Kevlar vest. Another guy pulled open the closures on Cade's jacket and took it, then Cade left Mandi to her adulation and went to climb back into his shoulder rig and field jacket, tossing his phony 'press' badge on the bed. John came in and momentarily joined the group by the console, then went to stand by Cade and asked, "She's really something, isn't she?" "Oh, hell, yes, John. Every bit of something. How's your picture-collecting coming along?" "I can only tell you what I told her. Our people are working on it. So far we've recovered five sets at WNN alone." "It doesn't look good for total containment, huh?" Shaking his head, John said, "Honestly? No, it doesn't. And if they get to the internet, we can forget about it." "No shit. John, do you remember the Marilyn Monroe and Elvis look-alike contests back in the sixties?" He shrugged. "Yeah. Vaguely, I guess." "They happened all over the country. If Mandi's pictures get out, maybe the thing to do is hold contests in L.A., Vegas, and all the major cities as quickly as possible. Send up some chaff. Make Mandi Steele-wannabes all over the place and give her a nationwide crowd to get lost in; otherwise she'll have to hide between missions in order to have any privacy at all. Now tell me something, John." "What's that?" "Tell me why didn't you just let her buzz into the room and grab all the guns. I've seen the tape. With a running start from the hallway she could have zapped them all in half a second or less and been out of there." With a straight face, John said, "It was felt that we needed a distraction to minimize risk." "And I need taller boots. Just tell me you aren't going to tell me, John. Don't bullshit me." Nodding, John said, "Okay. I can't tell you." "That means someone else is in command of this op. Someone I don't know. I really don't like that, John." Sighing slightly, John said, "Well, I don't either, but you know it isn't the first time and it won't be the last." "Can you tell me who's running the show?" "Not at this time." "That sucks, John." Nodding again, John said, "That's how I see it, too, but that's how it is." Someone called to John from the doorway and John excused himself, patting Mandi's shoulder on the way past her and saying, "Thanks again for your help." Mandi shortly disengaged from her SWAT fan club and joined Cade by the bed. "Is everything all right?" she asked. "No," said Cade. "John can't tell me who's running this op." "Neither can I," said Mandi. "Alan's getting his orders from John and won't admit to knowing anything else. Does it really matter who's at the top?" "It does to me, but as long as John's in my command chain, I'll go along with things. Do you have dinner plans?" "Yes. Some of the people from my group are going to DelMonico's around seven if nothing else happens. Want to come with us?" "No, thanks," he pulled the DragonCon schedule halfway out of his pocket, "I'm gonna disappear before they let the news people out and go find some food. There are a couple of things I want to check out between seven and nine." Reaching to touch his arm, Mandi said quietly, "You gave me the opening I needed in there. Thanks." Regarding her silently for a moment, Cade said, "You didn't need me at all, Mandi. After I saw the playback, I asked John why you didn't handle the whole mess yourself." Letting her hand fall to her side, Mandi said, "That wasn't the plan, Ed. That's all I can say." A woman called Mandi from the doorway. Mandi nodded to let the woman know she'd heard and turned back to Cade to ask, "What's your issue-cell number?" "Forty-two-eighteen. Yours?" "Zero-two-two-one." Although he knew that the cells were recharged and reissued in no particular order, Cade grinningly said, "Wow, that's a low number. You must be somebody special, ma'am." Laughing, Mandi said, "No, not me. They just handed me one from a box." An awkward moment of parting was developing. Cade curtailed it by extending a hand and saying, "I'm off in search of dinner. See you later, milady." Catching her lower lip between her teeth for a moment as she shook hands, Mandi said, "Yeah. See you later, Ed." As Cade left her to head for the door, a guy asked, "Have you been debriefed?" Thumbing at the console that was being packed into metal suitcases, Cade said, "It's all on tape. John has my number." 'Debriefed', thought Cade as he entered the hallway. What kind of a putz came up with that word? Probably a politician.

The dealer's room was jammed with people, as expected. As Mandi and Cade circulated, he looked for WiccaWorks clients and took a few moments with each to let them know he'd drop by the next day so they could restock from the products he'd brought. Mandi found a silver pendant on a chain that appealed to her at one of the booths and bought it while Cade was talking to the booth owner. Their conversation wrapped up about the same time as Mandi's purchase. Cade stepped over to Mandi, lifted the pendant and chain from her hands, and offered to put it on her. Lifting her hair, Mandi let him drape the chain and fasten the clasp as she looked in the booth's mirror. Her eyes met his as he brought the two ends of the chain together and thumbed the clasp. When her eyes fell to the pendant, his didn't, nor did his hands fall away from her shoulders immediately. "It's kind of amazing," said Cade softly. "You can haul cars into orbit, but you look and feel just like a showgirl." One of Mandi's eyebrows went up. "A showgirl?" Grinning, Cade said, "That's what they call women of exemplary beauty who strut around on stages in fancy costumes. I'd have expected you'd know something like that, being from Vegas and all." Turning to look at him, Mandi said, "Uh, huh. Smartass. You aren't from Vegas, so how the hell do you happen know so much about showgirls?" With a shrug, Cade said, "Been there. Got involved with a dancer for a while. A nice lady, but kind of obsessive." Tilting her head, Mandi asked, "Obsessed about what?" "Dancing. It's all she thought about, day and night. Well, almost all. She thought about me, too, now and then." "Did she?" "Oh, yeah," said Cade with a firm nod. "Every night for two weeks. Then I had to go back to Dallas." Sighing dramatically, he added, "Leaving her was kind of traumatic, y'know?" Grinning, Mandi said, "I'm sure it was and you have my most profound sympathy, of course. Are you going to tell me that I remind you of her? Maybe that I look a bit like her?" Trying to appear somewhat shocked, Cade said, "Of course not! She was a head taller than you and had brown hair. Not nearly as pretty, either. Great legs, though." "Uh, huh." Mandi lifted her pendant and eyed it as she said, "You know, I've been expecting something like this to happen sooner or later." With a snort of soft laughter, Cade said, "Sorry, but nothing's happened, ma'am. That wasn't a pass." Looking at him somewhat sharply, Mandi asked, "If it wasn't a pass, what was it?" "At most, a compliment. Ready to move on?" Glancing around, Mandi said, "I guess so." They were less than halfway down the aisle before she asked, "Are you sure it wasn't a pass?" "Yeah, I'm sure," said Cade, reaching for a book past a tall woman in Klingon garb who was studying a figurine display. Possibly because he'd spoken, she chose just that moment to turn and her rather massive, plastic-armored left breast collided with the side of Cade's face with an audible 'thunk'. Apparently assuming no responsibility whatsoever for the collision, she stiffened and straightened, glaring at Cade. Mandi snickered, but otherwise kept silent. "You wanna watch where you stick your goddamned nose?" bellowed the Klingon woman, sounding as if she might actually be from Brooklyn. "You wanna watch where you point those things?" returned Cade. "They're dangerous." A large hand clapped solidly onto Cade's shoulder and clamped down. Cade turned to see a guy a head taller than himself, also wearing Klingon gear, who said, "That's my girlfriend, dude." "Hands off," said Cade. "She bumped into me, that's all. No damage, no problem." "I'll decide if there's a problem," said the guy, his grip on Cade's shoulder intensifying a bit. Reaching up quickly, Cade drove his thumb into the inside of the faux-Klingon's bicep just above the elbow and snapped the area solidly back and forth. The guy hissed and yanked his arm away as if he'd been shocked. Stepping toward the Klingon to let some people get past, Cade said, "Okay, then. You decide. Is there a problem?" The Klingon wannabe rubbed his arm and glared at Cade as if thinking about the question. A fortyish blonde booth attendant rapped the pommel of one of the daggers from her display on her table and said, "Don't make me call security, boys." Pushing ungently past Cade, the female Klingon went to stand by her boyfriend and tugged his undamaged arm. After another moment of glaring, he turned to accompany her. As Cade turned to go with Mandi, the booth attendant held up the dagger in her hand and said, "Hey. I'll give you this dagger if you can teach me that trick." Cade eyed the dagger. It had a wire-wrapped black handle, a fancy brass crossguard, and a stainless, stiletto-style, double-edged blade about seven inches long. "Way too fancy," said Cade. "People would think I was from the French Quarter or something. How about those, instead?" He pointed to a set of three small stamped-out stainless throwing knives. Each knife was about five inches long and they came with a sheath that held all three at once. She shrugged at his much less expensive choice and said, "Uh... Sure. Okay." A few minutes later Cade left the booth with his knives as the woman practiced the move on her boyfriend's left arm. He yelped satisfactorily and she grinningly waved at Cade. "I think I've got it!" she said. Cade waved back as Mandi sidled up to him and took his left arm in hers, a gesture that made him look at her with a raised eyebrow as he tucked the knives into his back pocket. "The dealer's room closes in ten minutes," she said. "That leaves two hours until showtime. Is there anything on the schedule that you particularly care about?" "Nope. Actually, it'd be nice to get away from the crowds for a while and I left most of my dinner sitting on the bar. You got any thoughts on the matter?" With a shake of her head, Mandi said, "Not really. This is my first time in Atlanta. I saw a couple of places in the city guidebook, but they're nowhere near downtown." With a grinning glance, Cade said, "You can fly at warp speeds, milady. Even with heavy ol' me aboard you could zip pretty much anywhere in town in seconds." Matching his wry grin, Mandi gave Cade's arm a squeeze and said, "Okay. True enough, but I don't feel comfortable about leaving the area. Four of the men on John's list didn't turn up today, which doesn't necessarily mean they aren't somewhere near." Shrugging, Cade said, "Let's take a walk, then. Maybe we'll find something interesting within a couple of blocks." They were nearing the dealer's room doors when Mandi gave his arm another squeeze and said, "You're a refreshing change, Ed." "Refreshing, huh? Gee, lady, how'd I manage that?" "You just are. The others on the teams act as if they either worship me or they're scared shitless of me. I've only met two people during this operation who seem able to treat me like... well, who don't go overboard one way or the other. You're one of them. Mind if I ask you why?" "Why I don't worship you or why I'm not scared of you?" "Yes. Both." Stepping back and eyeing Mandi from toes to hairline, Cade said, "Well, you asked..." He opened the door to the sidewalk for her and followed her through before he spoke again. "Mandi, you're kind of like a fighter jet in that you're extremely powerful and you're on our side in this thing against terrorism. People should respect things like fighter jets and behave in a responsible manner around them, but they shouldn't fear them. You're also a very beautiful woman and I expect you have all the usual feelings that come with being a female human being. Your feelings deserve a level of respect and responsibility." Some moments of walking toward the corner passed before Mandi asked, "And..?" "And what?" "That's it?" With a shrug, Cade said, "Yes'm, that's about it. I've been treating you like a beautiful woman because that's mostly what you are to me. If you need more than that -- or less than that -- you'll probably have to look elsewhere." "Mostly?" "Yeah, mostly. I'm not forgetting that you can speak other languages and fly, but at the moment you're just walking beside me and being good company. Seems to me that I should respond in kind; that is, to make every effort to be good company in return. If you wanted more, you'd probably be somewhere else with someone who'd feed your ego." With a grin, Cade added, "With the guys on the fourth floor, for instance, who'd either be waiting on you hand and foot and fawning all over you or avoiding you." Sighing, Mandi said, "That gets old fast, you know. People either weigh and measure every word they say or they babble. There's almost no middle ground." "The price of fame," said Cade, "However clandestine." "Screw fame," said Mandi. "I haven't had an intelligent conversation with anyone but John since Wednesday. Well, not until you showed up, anyway. All anyone wanted to talk about was me. Same old questions, over and over." Making a suitable sigh of pity, Cade said, "Well, I'll try not to disappoint you, milady. I won't ask where you're from, how you got here, how fast you can fly, or anything like that." Peering sharply at him, Mandi said, "Yeah, you've managed to avoid those questions so far. Why?" "Because I don't really need to know the answers. It's enough that you're on my arm and sharing time with me." Continuing to regard him askance, Mandi asked, "Or is it that you already know the answers? Did John or someone else brief you about me?" "Nope. You appeared out of nowhere today when you hopped over a car and jumped into the sky with it. A little while later I ran into you at the elevators." "So when you jumped on that guy, you just assumed -- without knowing anything else about me -- that I'd do something about the other two?" "Yup. I figured all you needed was a distraction to provide a reasonable opening. You'd just survived a major explosion, so it didn't seem likely that bullets would slow you down much, and all the guns were pointed at me at the time anyway. I'd have been real surprised if you hadn't done what you did." "Surprised?" asked Mandi. "You'd have been dead." Snapping his fingers as if just realizing that fact, Cade grinningly said, "Well, then, it's a damned good thing I guessed right, isn't it?" Mandi's face was stern as she stopped to face him and said, "You certainly put a hell of a lot of faith in that guess." "Correction; I put a hell of a lot of faith in you." "You know what I mean, Ed. What if I hadn't lived up to your expectations?" "Well, I'd have been somewhat disappointed, of course..." "I'm not joking, dammit!" Shrugging, Cade began walking again as he said, "Okay, you weren't joking. Next subject." Taking two strides to catch up, Mandy snapped, "What?" "Next subject. Next topic of discussion. The last one wasn't entertaining us, so let's talk about something else." "No! I want to know how you could just presume that I'd..." Interrupting her, Cade said, "I just did, and it's history, so let's drop it. As far as I'm concerned, you can probably do anything I can imagine; anything I ever saw in a comic book. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me at all to find out that the comics about superhumans began after someone found out about you or someone like you back in the thirties." Mandi's gaze narrowed tightly as she asked, "You really think I'm that old?" Looking her over, Cade said, "Could be. I think you'll probably look just as delicious another sixty years down the road. Or maybe a couple of hundred years. How long do superpeople live, anyway?" Pretending vast shock, Mandi rolled her eyes and softly exclaimed, "Oh, wonder of wonders!" Giving her a narrow look of his own, Cade asked, "What wonder of wonders are you referring to, ma'am?" Not bothering to contain her grin, Mandi said, "You finally asked me a real question. Did it hurt?" "Well, it didn't at the time, but I think it's beginning to. Wanna know where?" Laughing, Mandi said, "Ah... no, I can guess. I can't tell you how long I'm likely to live, Ed. I really don't know." Nodding, Cade said, "Doesn't matter. I was just curious." Lifting her hand upward to kiss it, he added, "And I hope it's a really big number."

Near the end of the next block was a pub and microbrewery that had a couple of pool tables. Mandi and Cade discovered the place to be almost empty, despite large numbers of convention attendees wandering the streets. Two guys at a table near the window nodded to Mandi and Cade as they entered and approached the bar. Cade ordered a couple of beers and some quarters. Gesturing around the pub, Mandi said, "Well, Ed, you did say you wanted to get away from the crowds." As the bartender pulled a couple of glasses of beer for them, he said, "It's like this every year. The only convention that brings in less business is the Salvation Army thing." Nodding toward the window, he added, "Which just happens to be going on this week, too, of course. It's the worst week of the year for everybody but the hotels and restaurants." The reddish-colored beer cost five bucks a glass and it tasted rather bitter. Cade decided that he preferred his usual Ice House beer as he set his local brew on a table and put quarters in one of the pool tables. "Don't like it, huh?" asked Mandi, nodding at Cade's beer. "Not particularly. Too bitter. I'll break." "Oh, really? We aren't going to flip a coin?" "No, ma'am, we aren't. I've got a strong feeling that if you break, you'll run the table." Rolling a stick on the table to check it's straightness, Mandi said, "Oh, but maybe I'm not much of a pool player, sir." Watching her chalk the tip of her stick by spinning the stick and lightly buffing the contact point, Cade said, "Uh, huh. That's what all the sexy blonde hustlers say." Cade made the four on the break and made another five balls before a bad leave put the cue ball behind three of her stripes. His attempted jump shot made the seven ball, but the cue ball followed it into the pocket. Mandi grinned as she stepped up to the table. One after another she rather elegantly pocketed all of her striped balls, including one that involved a long, almost right-angle cut to reach a distant corner pocket. When only the eight ball remained, she eyed the six-inch shot and smilingly asked, "Want to concede the game?" Shaking his head, Cade said, "Nope. Work for it, lady." With a chuckle, Mandi popped the eight into the pocket. The two guys who'd been watching from a nearby table had come to stand by Cade. "Man, she flat kicked your ass," said one of them. "I think she got lucky on the fourteen," said the other guy. "Yeah?" asked Cade. "Put your quarters up. You just volunteered to be her next victim." The guy nodded and reached in his pocket, then fed the table as the other guy introduced himself as Mike and the other guy as Stan, then put his name on the chalkboard for the next game. "Hey, there's three of us here, dude," confided Mike. "One of us has to beat her." Glancing at Mandi, Cade chuckled and said, "Yeah, right." Cade put his name on the board, as well, and sat down with his beer. He enjoyed watching women shoot pool, especially women in short skirts, and Mandi had magnificent legs. Midway through her game against Stan, Mandi leaned over the table for a shot, lifting one leg slightly off the floor as she stretched. She seemed to take longer than usual about it. The shot hadn't seemed that difficult, even with the need to stretch for it. Cade glanced from her legs to the table to try to see why she was taking so long just as Mandi turned to look grinningly back at him. His gaze shifted from the table to her face. Her expression seemed to change to one of surprise for a moment, then she turned back around and popped the ball into the pocket. 'Ha,' thought Cade. 'She thought she'd catch me eyeballing her legs.' With a grinning mental shrug as he sipped his beer he added, 'She damned near did, too.' Mandi gave him an odd, studying glance as she rounded the table to take her next shot. Cade deliberately pretended to find something interesting about his beer and held it up to look at the way the light filtered through it. Mike muttered something as Mandi sank the eight, then he sighed and said, "Oh, well. It was worth the money to watch her do that, I guess." Stan laughed and got up to take his turn. During the game Mandi chanced to be standing directly in front of Cade as she leaned across the table to aim, shifting her hips as she moved slightly to her right. Oh, hell, yeah, Cade looked. As Mandi leaned forward, her skirt rode up a bit and tightened delightfully around her butt and thighs. In the corner of his eye, Cade caught a motion in the big front window of the pub and glanced that direction. Mandi's reflection was grinning slightly as she looked back at him. Cade matched her small grin, shrugged as he flicked his eyebrows at her, and went back to studying Mandi's assets as she made the shot and straightened up with a muted 'gotcha' look on her face. As Mandi methodically worked her way through her balls, Mike leaned over to quietly ask Cade, "Where the hell did she learn to shoot like that?" "She's from Vegas," replied Cade, as if that explained everything. When four games had passed without Mandi missing a shot, Mike simply reached up and erased his name from the chalkboard. "That's enough for me," he said, "I'm a believer." Stan looked at his watch and said, "We've got time for one more game." Mike shrugged and held up his glass. "Go for it. I've still got some beer left." As he racked the balls, Stan said, "I can't believe she's kicking our asses with a bar cue. Why doesn't she have a stick of her own?" "You'll have to ask her," said Cade. "I just met her today. We haven't discussed much personal stuff yet." "I left it at home," said Mandi. "I didn't expect to need it." "Huh," grunted Mike. "I'd say you do all right without it." "No shit," muttered Stan. Two brunettes came into the pub as Mandi broke the rack. They approached and stopped at a distance as Mandi shot, then angled around the pool table. One went to Stan; the other went to Mike, who stood up with Cade as she approached. Stan introduced them as Susan and Sara, then Cade and Mike pulled up two more chairs for them and everybody sat down to watch the game. "Will talking disturb her?" asked Sara. "I seriously doubt it," said Cade, with a shake of his head. Turning to Mike, Sara said, "Sorry we couldn't get loose earlier. We got kind of busy in the ER. Do you think this game will take long? We're starving." Mike laughed shortly and said, "No, I don't think it'll take long. She's good." Shaking his head slightly, he added, "She's real damned good. Five games and she hasn't missed yet." "Not at all?" asked Susan. "Not once." Appropriately impressed, the newcomers watched Mandi quickly pocket her last three balls and the eight. "Make that six games," said Mike. "Damn!" After Mike and Stan had left with their starving ladies, Mandi leaned her rump on the pool table and asked, "Well? We still have time for a game, too. Want to try your luck again?" Grinning wryly, Cade said, "Sure, if I break." Unassing the table to reach for her beer, Mandi said, "No problem. Go for it." After a long sip while watching Cade rack the balls, she asked, "How old are you, Ed?" "Fifty-three. Why?" "Just curious. If you had any health problems, you wouldn't be working with John's group, would you?" Lining up to break the rack, Cade said, "Nope." Sipping her beer again, Mandi said, "After the show tonight... Well, I'm thinking that I'd rather not be where anyone is likely to look for me." Pausing to look at her, Cade asked, "Reason?" Mandi shook her head and said, "I'd just rather not have anyone knocking on my door after the show." With a shrug, Cade said, "We'll tell John. He'll tell the others to leave you alone." Giving him a studious look, Mandi sipped her beer again as Cade sent the cue ball through the rack. "I didn't say I wanted to be alone," she said. "I said I wanted to be where I wouldn't be found." Looking up from the table, Cade set the butt of his cue stick on the floor, regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, then asked, "Would it be too much to hope for that you're referring to my room as your sanctuary?" With a small shake of her head, Mandi smiled slightly as she said, "No, Ed. It wouldn't be too much to hope for." She sipped her beer and quietly added, "But it might be all you could hope for." "Uh, huh. Does that mean I'd have to behave myself or that you'd have your way with me and then discard me like a used paper towel in the morning?" Laughing, Mandi said, "No, it just means that... Well..." she hesitated further, then gestured at the pool table and said, "See if you can figure it out in the meantime. I'll understand if you're reluctant later." After a moment of studying her, Cade nodded and lined up on the nine ball. Seven shots later, only the eight remained and it wasn't too far from a pocket. Cade called the pocket and sank the ball with a sigh of deliberately unconcealed relief. Laughing, Mandi said, "Oh, good game, sir." "Coming from you, that's a heavy compliment, milady." He sipped his beer and asked, "Back to what you said about being 'reluctant later'. You're gorgeous and I enjoy being with you, so I'm having trouble with the idea that I might be reluctant." Nibbling her lip, Mandi regarded Cade for a moment, then looked around, apparently to be sure nobody else could hear. In a low tone, she said, "You might find sex with me... ah... well, it could be somewhat... ah... unsatisfying." Matching her soft, confidential tone, Cade stated, "You're trying to say that I couldn't get in, aren't you?" Reddening slightly, Mandi nodded. Cade shrugged. "Oh, well. There are other ways to please a woman." Peering at Cade as if to determine the truth of his words, Mandi asked, "That wouldn't bother you?" With a small smile, Cade sipped his beer again and softly said, "It wouldn't bother me anywhere near as much as knowing I missed an opportunity to taste a woman like you intimately." After a brief pause, he grinningly added the respectful afterthought, "Ma'am." Again eyeing him as if to decide whether he'd told the truth, Mandi sipped her beer and laid her stick across the pool table. Picking up the menu from the small table, Cade looked it over and opted for another burger basket rather than some of the other items available, most of which seemed to contain pasta. "Would you like anything?" he asked, showing Mandi the menu. "I'm getting the burger basket." Mandi scanned the menu and said, "Same for me," as she reached into her purse for quarters she hadn't expected to need. "I'm buying," said Cade, waving the menu. "Thanks," said Mandi, "But I'm looking for quarters. I lost the last game, remember?" Looking startled, Cade exclaimed, "Oh, yeah! So you did! Wowsers! Thanks for reminding me!" "Just treasure the moment," said Mandi drily. "It may not happen again. Ever." "Oh, yes'm!" said Cade with a nod and a tiny salute. "As you say, ma'am. Treasuring it now, ma'am. Back in a minute." As he headed for the bar, Cade heard Mandi mutter, "Smartass," then she called, "Extra mustard, okay?"

Cade went to the bathroom to lose some used beer as Mandi again went to her suitcase. When he came out a few minutes later, a gloriously naked Mandi smilingly strode past him and cavalierly handed him the fancy shampoo bottle as she breezed by. Setting the bottle down on the desk, Cade kicked off his boots and skinned out of his clothes, then grabbed the bottle and followed her. Mandi grinningly stood still or moved as directed to allow him best-possible access with the shampoo and soap as Cade took his sweet time about washing her. It surprised him to learn that she was ticklish in all the usual places. It surprised Mandi equally to learn that Cade hadn't been kidding at all about the level of enjoyment he achieved simply by touching and tasting, but after several minutes of his joyful tasting, her surprise was replaced by other sensations that began to build within her due to Cade's questing tongue and roving, sensual touches. A shuddering, gasping orgasm was all Cade wanted from her, and he worked hard for it. When the scent of honey and wildflowers began to fill the shower stall and the magnificent twin columns that were her thighs began to tremble, Cade happily redoubled his efforts until the sounds of his success filled the tiny bathroom. Sure, Cade vaguely realized that something was affecting him like a mood enhancement drug, but somehow that just didn't seem very important at all as the honey and wildflower taste of her flooded his senses. Mandi's fingers entwined tightly in his hair to hold him steadfastly in place as she crested. When she relaxed with a sigh a little later, Cade thought of the way she'd tossed the Crown Vic around and actually felt relieved that she hadn't accidentally squashed him as she'd peaked. Sliding out from between her legs, Cade stood up and simply held her for a time as the spray cascaded over them both. A few light, feathery kisses to her shoulder and neck brought Mandi's face up to his and his next kiss was one of the kind that let a woman know that a man thinks the world of her. "See?" he whispered, "Some things are worth losing a little sleep." With a soft snicker, Mandi simply nodded agreement and kissed him again and they stood together under the spray for another few minutes before she spoke. "Seems to me it's my turn to..." she began, but her words were interrupted by the phone ringing in the bedroom. They looked quizzically at each other for a moment, then parted. Nobody would be calling either of them at that hour without damned good reason. "Guess I'd better answer it," said Cade, kissing her again and stepping out of the shower stall. Mandi said nothing as she reached to turn off the water. Cade grabbed a towel and used it as he left the bathroom. Picking up the phone, Cade answered it with his room number. "Four-twenty-two." "Cade," said John in a tense voice, "I need to speak to Mandi." "Hold one," said Cade, turning to wave the phone at Mandi. "It's John." She nodded and came padding out of the bathroom to take it and say, "Hi, John. What's up?" As he finished toweling himself dry, Cade faintly heard John say, "We need you in the ops room, Mandi. Let Cade stay there and get some sleep; you're going to have to make a trip to Washington tonight." Nodding as if John could see her, Mandi said, "Tell me about it when I get there. I'm on my way. Bye," and hung up the phone as she turned to Cade. "I heard," he said, tossing the towel over a chair and reaching for her, "And I've seen how fast you move, so how about a kiss for the road, lady?" Mandi moved into his arms for a long, firm kiss, then she stepped back and said, "If I can, I'll be back tonight." "Most excellent, ma'am. I'd like to wake up next to you." Mandi smiled in her naked splendor and became a blur that moved around the room for a moment, then solidified back into Mandi a few inches from his face. She smilingly kissed him again, then again blurred as she sped out of the room. "Damn," muttered Cade as he parked his butt against the desk and picked up Mandi's towel. It still carried the scent of her; the wildflowers and honey scent. He held the towel to his face and breathed deeply of her for a few moments, then hung both towels on the rack in the bathroom and climbed into bed. Sleep was evasive for a while as he remembered various aspects of their shower together, but eventually it found him.

From his station at the ballroom doors, Cade almost didn't spot Mandi among the others when the women first paraded onto the stage. As his gaze passed over them, one of the women flicked her eyebrows at him and grinned. Cade studied her a moment longer, then nodded and grinned back. Phyllis had slightly altered Mandi's face and body in ways so subtle that Cade could only guess how she'd done it. All he could say was that she didn't look much like herself. When the ballroom had been filled to capacity and then some, the lobby was cleared and all the double doors were closed. Cade and the others stood in front of the doors. Slightly muffled by the doors, Cade heard the announcer blather for a while about the purpose of the event being to honor the woman who'd saved Atlanta, then footage of the event was announced, followed by a video playback of the previous night's car-juggling exposition. Apologies were made that Mandi, herself, couldn't be there, assurances were made that she'd receive a complete recording of the event, and the announcer wrapped up his stage time by turning the show over to a woman, who announced the three prizes to be awarded by the convention and segued the announcement into an introduction of the contest judges. At last they got down to the look-alike competition. Knowing the general routine each woman would perform, Cade could envision them strutting from the wings to model their outfits by turning around once, then moving across the stage to make room for the next contestant. The male announcer eventually came back on stage to say that there would be a brief pause as the votes were counted and introduced another display of Mandi Steele video footage with thunderingly loud, dramatic music. "Bogey on camera three," said Donna Carter's calm voice in Cade's earpiece. "The upstairs hallway. He came in through a side door and he's heading for the escalators. Computer says he's a ninety-five-plus face-match. Blue backpack, jeans, yellow shirt, white sneakers. He's wearing a 'staff' badge." "Everybody stay tight," Alan said unnecessarily, "He could be a diversion." "Another bogey... and another match," said Carter. "Again from a side door. Computer says he's definitely Mohammed Nassir from the red list. Blue shirt, green backpack. Jeans and gray sneakers. Another 'staff' badge." As the escalator carried the men into view, Pierce said, "The blue backpack belongs to one of the two Hassans on the orange list. His other hand's empty, so he's going to have to reach into the bag. Same with Nassir." The men on the escalator stepped off at the bottom and walked together for only a few paces toward Bartow's door before Hassan said, "I will meet you later. I must sit with some friends," and changed course toward the middle doors. "Hassan's heading for Cade," said Bartow. "Looks like we get Nassir. Evans, do it." "Copy," said Evans as he and Pierce stepped from concealment behind a table with a tall cardboard display and ran toward Nassir and Hassan. Hassan broke into a run and reached under his baggy shirt as he approached Cade's duty station. Cade drew his Glock and prepared to take him down if necessary as he watched Pierce approach Hassan from the side, but Pierce launched himself to land on Hassan and bore him crushingly to the floor over twenty feet from Cade's doors. Cade stayed in his doorway and looked to see how Bartow and Evans were faring with Nassir as Pierce struggled with Hassan. They weren't faring well. Evans had rushed Nassir, but Nassir had hopped into the air and kicked him in the face, then landed facing Bartow and dropped flat, kicking at Bartow's leg. There was a loud, sickening snapping sound and then Nassir was on his feet again and veering right for Cade with a MAC-11 autopistol aimed at him. Cade quickly backed deep into the doorway. Grinning as he rushed forward, Nassir thought that Cade had panicked and ducked inside the ballroom. He was wrong. As soon as Cade was out of Nassir's line of sight, he knelt as low as possible next to the wall and aimed upward at the space where Nassir seemed most likely to appear. The instant Nassir's rushing form blocked the light from the lobby, Cade fired twice so quickly the separate sounds of the shots were almost indistinguishable, then he dropped his Glock and heaved himself at the MAC-11, shoving it upward as he rose to his feet. The ugly little machine pistol sprayed the ceiling of the alcove, firing itself empty as Nassir pitched forward. Cade heard crunching sounds and felt bones collapse in his grip as his fingers met his palm around Nassir's thick wrist. From somewhere in his mind came the thought, 'Well, damn. She was right.' Cade continued his motion with Nassir's arm, glancing to see that the MAC's breech was open and showed no brass as he grabbed and opened a ballroom door to shove Nassir's gun hand through. Closing the door on Nassir's wrist, Cade threw his weight against the door hard enough to nearly close it completely, then yanked it open again to grab Nassir's gun hand and haul his arm and the MAC back into the alcove. A few screeches and a "Holy shit!" greeted him from people seated just beyond the door, but he ignored them as he re-closed the door and kicked the door stops down. Picking up his Glock, he checked Nassir for signs of life. There were none. Both rounds from the Glock had entered below Nassir's sternum only a few inches apart. Only one had exited his back; the other must have hit enough bone to stop it. "Cade here," he said into his lapel mike. "Nassir's dead." "Copy that," said Carter, stepping out of a maintenance room behind the escalators. "All clear. Help is on the way." With their sirens and lights off, two ambulances pulled up outside the lower lobby street doors. Two pairs of medics rushed into the lobby and were directed by Carter. An injection quieted Hassan almost instantly as two of the medics checked out Bartow. Cade got out of Carter's way as she marched toward him with a camera. She took a rapid-fire series of pictures of Nassir, zooming in on the MAC-11, his wrist, his face, and then circling his body once before she slung the camera on her shoulder. Turning to the medics, she said, "Okay, he's all yours," then she produced a man's handkerchief from her jacket pocket and used it to pick up Nassir's weapon. She moved to stand near Cade and look him over as the medics hoisted Nassir onto a gurney and pushed the gurney away. "Get any blood on you?" she asked. Turning completely around for her examination, Cade said, "Don't think so. He went down fast and hard." As he turned back to face her, Carter said, "You look clean enough to me. Let's get out of their way," and thumbed at the glass doors to the street. Two guys with janitorial gear hurried across the lobby and began cleaning up the blood in the doorway. As soon as they'd finished, another guy covered the bullet holes in the archway ceiling with a large cardboard poster that said, "Keep looking up!" and pictured a spaceship with a little green man leaning out of the cockpit to smilingly wave at the reader. Bartow and Evans had already been helped to the ambulance and Royce and Davies had replaced them. Carter tapped Cade's arm to get his attention, then pointed at his now-clean doorway. He nodded and stepped over to take his position before the doors. Cade said, "Some people saw me grab the MAC when I opened the door." "We know," said Carter. "John's got someone on them. Are you okay, Cade?" With a shrug, Cade said, "I could use a coffee." Nodding, Carter said, "Yeah, me, too. Later, Cade. Good job," and turned to head back to her camera room. Fifteen minutes or so later, Cade heard the announcer hand out the prizes for first, second, and third place. The other contestants were heartily thanked and given surprise consolation prizes in the form of twenty-dollar dealer's room gift certificates, then the band cranked up. Through Cade's earpiece came, "Open the doors now," and he kicked the stops back up on his doors, opened them, and stood to one side of the alcove as people left the ballroom. It was a short rush of people; some headed for the restrooms or the escalators, but most of those gathered in the ballroom remained seated because the evening's entertainment would continue until around midnight. Maybe ten minutes later John made his way to Cade through the swarming people and eyed the alcove for a moment before he said, "Both backpacks were full of plastique. It didn't really matter which one got through." "Kinda figured that." "Carter's people had cameras on the doors. I've seen what happened. Good job, Cade." Another damned 'good job'. Cade wished someone would -- maybe just once -- say something original, or even just 'well done', but he nodded as he replied, "Thanks. What now?" "For you? Nothing, unless Dante or Carter have questions about what happened. Head to the ops room and file a report, then you're off duty. Mandi will be along after they finish with the news people and convention photos." "How'd she do? Fourth? Fifth?" Trying to look as if he hated to be the bearer of bad news, John said, "Sixth, I think. Sorry. She just doesn't look enough like Mandi Steele. Won herself a consolation prize, though." With a grin, Cade said, "Big deal. That's like 'Everybody Gets A Ribbon' day at an elementary school." Through his earpiece came Davis's, "John, Danvers needs a word with you." Shrugging, John said, "Duty calls. See you later. Don't forget that report before you sign out for the night." Cade nodded and took his earpiece off as he headed for the escalators. Stopping in the lobby for a free newspaper at the luggage desk, he took out his reading glasses and scanned the news, then dug out the comics as he waited for an elevator. On the fourth floor he took his glasses off, dropped the newspaper in his room, and headed for the ops room, where he used one of the computers to fill out a report form. As he was typing the last of a general description of events as he'd experienced them -- and making a point of mentioning the door closing hard on Nassir's wrist -- he felt Mandi's presence nearby and looked up as she entered the room. He waved and smiled, she waved and smiled, then Cade turned back to typing and quickly finished the description and the report and printed copies for signing. Mandi came to stand by the desk "So you type, too?" she asked, "How fast?" "About sixty these days. John said you came in sixth." She sighed with mock regret and said, "Yeah, I just didn't look enough like me, I guess. Close, but no cigar." As he signed the forms, Cade said, "Poor little you, milady. May I buy you a late dinner to ease your pain?" "Getting hungry again, huh?" "Yup." Lowering his voice, he said, "I found out what you meant by 'stronger' a while ago." Matching his near whisper, Mandi smilingly leaned close and said, "Yes, I know. I was watching you. Those doors are only made of wood, you know." Not particularly surprised that Mandi could see through things, Cade nodded his understanding, finished signing the forms, and stood up to take them to another desk. When they arrived in Cade's room, Mandi headed for the fridge as she said, "There were no Atlanta police in the lower lobby, Cade. Not in uniform or out." Nodding, he said, "I noticed that, too." Opening a soda, she asked, "Why?" Cade watched her sip the drink for a moment as he decided how to handle her question, then said, "Likely because they were asked not to be there." After meeting his gaze for a moment, Mandi said, "A man was shot. Killed. Rightfully so, under the circumstances, but isn't that a matter for the local cops?" "I'm not going to worry about it, Mandi. If you feel that something's not right, you'll have to talk to John." She shook her head and said, "No, what I meant was; how is it the Atlanta cops weren't involved?" Reaching for a soda of his own, Cade said, "Mandi, I think some long-standing rules are being bent. The terrorists are operating as small cells. They can scatter like cockroaches and pop up again anywhere, anytime, with explosives. We need more and better info about them, and I think Hassan's going to tell whatever he knows before the legal system gets him." "A secret interrogation?" Nodding, Cade said, "Very likely. Drugs, not torture. They're quicker, more effective, and they don't leave marks." "And you're okay with that?" "In Hassan's case, yes. He was caught with a backpack full of plastic explosive in a downtown Atlanta hotel and he was trying to get into a crowded ballroom to set it off. I flatly don't give a rat's ass how they get the info out of him. I also don't care whether the legal system gets him or not." "What about Constitutional rights?" Snorting a laugh, Cade said, "He was going to blow himself up, ma'am. His rights would have ended anyway. This way we may find out where he got the plastique, who funded the operation, who directed it, and more. If we turn him over to the legal system before we question him, we can only be sure we'll get his lawyer's name." Mandi parked her butt against the fridge and said, "I see. So the Constitution no longer applies to all?" "It should definitely apply to those who live by it. I'm personally not concerned about those who don't. The terrorists are all part of an insane religious cult, Mandi. They think it's their right and duty to blow themselves up in crowds." He paused to sip, then said, "As I see it, the Constitution is really only capable of helping civilized people live together in peace. Terrorists aren't civilized, so we need a different rulebook to deal with them, preferably before they explode themselves in our shopping malls and schools." Gesturing around the room, he added, "Or our hotels." "A lot of people would disagree with you, Ed. Not all Muslims are terrorists." "I know that, and I'm not suggesting that they are, but you don't see any Jewish or Christian or atheist suicide bombers, do you? Only Muslims. The terrorists are hiding among their own kind, Mandi, and their 'own kind' aren't being very cooperative about turning them in. That means that some innocent people will be unnecessarily suspected and investigated because they happen to know -- or be related to -- the wrong person. That'll happen no matter how anyone feels about Constitutional rights. I think it's better to make an apology when necessary and risk a lawsuit now and then than to have to send condolences to hundreds of families when some Hassan or Nassir blows himself up at a convention." Studying him, Mandi said, "Interesting. As much as you two are alike, John would have ended that with 'don't you agree?'" "That's because John likes to hear people agree with him." "And you don't?" "Oh, sure, but I don't really care. I may tell you my views, but whether you agree with them is your business." After another long look at Cade, Mandi said, "I see," and shifted off the fridge as she asked, "Are you ready to do something about dinner?" Cade also stood up and said, "Great idea." "Will they let you have one of the agency cars?" Shrugging, Cade said, "Sure. No problem." "Good. I think it would look better if we visit several fast-food places. It'll look funny if we order enough food for a party, then don't have a party. Especially if the food disappears." "Good point. Chances are good that someone would notice something like that on this floor." He paused, then added, "They keep pretty close track of the pool cars, too. Might be better if we just rented something. Or flew." With a wry grin, Mandi asked, "You want me to fly you from one burger stand to another?" "No, ma'am. We'd fly to where there are a bunch of them close together, like at beltway exits along the Interstate. Then we'd walk. No vehicle records to worry about that way." Mandi nodded. "Yeah. Okay. Sounds good."

Instead of using Mandi's roof entrance to the hotel, she and Cade walked down the vehicle reception ramp to the street, then continued walking south until Mandi said, "All clear." Wrapping an arm around Cade, she leaped into the air. Minutes later they touched down beside a fast food restaurant which was surrounded by several similar restaurants. After buying half a dozen super-burgers, they sat at one of the plastic-umbrellaed tables and dug into the food. Mandi spoke as she unwrapped her second burger. "Ed, your records indicate that you've made twenty-four kills and no arrests while you've been with the NIA." He met her gaze and said, "I wondered why you were so quiet, milady. That many, huh? Damn. Does that include the last two?" Her gaze narrowed a bit as she asked, "Do you have a good explanation for not taking any prisoners?" Speaking around some burger, Cade said, "Nothing that isn't in my records. Basically, ma'am, they just wouldn't cooperate. They never gave me the chance to arrest them." "You're sure about that?" He nodded. "Any of them could have put their weapons down, but they didn't. Where are you going with this? Having second thoughts about converting me?" Maybe Mandi's mild surprise showed in her face. Cade's eyebrow went up as he sipped his Dr Pepper. Nodding, she said, "I had some reservations, yes." Cade shook his head and said, "Nope. Not 'had'. You have some real, live doubts. You're thinking maybe you've converted the wrong guy." Finishing his third burger, Cade sipped his drink again and said, "I don't happen to think so, of course. Speaking of conversions, what's my max going to be?" Mandi swallowed her last mouthful of burger and said, "Your max will depend on how well your system converts. If you're average, you'll be able to lift about six tons by Friday." Staring at her briefly, Cade said, "Well, damn. That's a bunch. How much can you lift, Mandi?" 'That's a bunch?!' thought Mandi with a flash of anger, 'Is any of this really reaching this guy?' "A hell of a lot more than that!" she snapped, then she sighed and said, "Oh, hell. Sorry. You just don't seem to be taking any of this too seriously, Ed." Making a stern, somber face, Cade said, "If it would help, I could fake it for you. See?" When her irritation seemed to increase rather than decrease, Cade also sighed and asked, "Is it reversible?" "No." "Will it be bad for me in any way?" "No. Exactly the opposite." "Can I possibly envision at this moment what it'll be like?" "Well... no, not really. You may think you can..." Raising his hand, he interrupted her. "No, I can't. You tossed a Crown Vic around. One car, about a ton. I saw you do it, so okay, I believe it. But me lifting six cars? It isn't that I don't believe you, Mandi, it's just that the feeling of power like that just isn't there for me yet, and it won't be 'till I've done something to make it feel real." Sipping his drink, he added, "But what's really got you tweaked is my kill sheet." Cade shrugged. "Can't change those numbers. Can't undo the conversion, either. Seems to me that if I turn out to be a big mistake, you'll have to kill me rather than let me run loose in the world. Fair enough, ma'am. Are you ready to go see what they have next door?" For a long moment, Mandi simply stared at him, then she swung her legs from beneath the table and stood up. Cade did the same and they walked around the hedges between the restaurants to another chain burger joint. "There's a Mexican restaurant the other way," said Mandi. "That's why I didn't go that way. You like Mexican food?" "I just mentioned it, Ed. It's there, that's all." "Yeah, and it can damned well stay there. I wasn't hungry enough to eat Mexican food when I woke up today." Mandi snickered and asked, "You really don't like Mexican food, huh?" "No, ma'am, I really don't. The stuff's a health hazard." "It won't be a problem for you after the conversion." "Great, but I still won't want any." At the end of the hedges a loud rustling sounded as a guy in his twenties jumped in front of them and said, "Gimme your money," as he aimed a stiletto at them. Cade opened his jacket and put his hand on his Glock as he said, "You don't get to keep the knife. Drop it, then get lost." "You aren't going to arrest him?" asked Mandi. The guy had spread his arms and leaned as if to put the knife on the ground. He suddenly leaned the other direction and took off running. Cade ran after him, caught up with him almost instantly, and grabbed his knife arm. Bones snapped and crushed in his grip. The guy screamed and the knife fell from his hand to the pavement as he stared at Cade in shock and agony. "Damn it," muttered Cade, "That's the second time... You. Get the fuck out of here. Now." The guy seemed about to faint as his gaze fell to his crushed forearm. Cade raised his voice a bit. "Now!" Without a word, the guy slowly backed away, then slipped into the hedges between the restaurants, disappearing into the darkness beyond. Mandi walked up as Cade picked up the knife. "It happened again," he said. "I mashed the holy shit out of his arm." "So I noticed. Look on the bright side; at least you didn't kill him, right?" Glancing at her, Cade said, "I didn't arrest him, either. What does a double negative do to my ratio?" Giving him a droll look, Mandi said, "Very funny. Ha, ha." Cade stopped at the restaurant's dumpster and snapped the knife's blade in a lid hinge, then tossed the broken parts in the dumpster as he said, "About a week, right? Then I'll be as strong as I'm going to be and I can start learning how to handle things so they don't break?" "You could start now," said Mandi. "It's just a matter of conditioning and a little thought before action." She thumbed at the restaurant they'd just left and said, "For instance, you didn't squash your cheeseburger. Nor your drink cup." As Cade opened and held the restaurant door for her, he said, "Hm. Good points. Guess I just need a little practice." The paper-hatted clerk manning the counter seemed kind of nervous as Mandi and Cade approached. "Uh... was that guy trying to rob you?" Looking above the guy at the menu on the wall, Mandi said, "We'll have six number fours with everything. Fries with each." She then looked at the clerk, who took the hint, nodded, and asked what they wanted to drink with their meals. They again took their food outside to a patio table, and as they sat down, Mandi asked, "Aren't you curious about why the conversion makes you so hungry?" Chuckling, Cade said, "Sure, but I'm more curious about how long I'll be this hungry. This could get expensive." Smiling around some french fries, Mandi said, "The first few days are the worst, and by the end of the week you'll have other options. For example, you'll be able to draw power from heat, light, and electricity as well as food." Nodding, Cade said, "Cool. I never did like cooking." Mandi laughed. "John said you live on canned soup, coffee, and microwave meals." "Yup. That and raw veggies as snacks. I hit the buffet at a steakhouse a couple of times a week, too. You're saying I'll be able to recharge on house current?" "I'd recommend two-twenty current. It's faster." "No problem. I can rig something for the dryer outlet." Swallowing some fries, Mandi said, "Yeah, that should work. You'll need about a fifty-amp breaker." "How long does it take to recharge?" "It varies. Fifteen minutes to an hour." They ate in silence for some moments, then Cade asked, "How long in direct sunlight?" Grinning, Mandi asked, "With or without a shirt?" Returning her grin, Cade said, "Say without." "Five hours or so. Maybe a bit longer. You won't have to worry about sunburn, so get naked. You'll cut your recharging time in half." Shaking his head, Cade said, "Reason enough to become a beach bum, I guess. Nah. I'm too old for a career change." Cocking her head as she looked at him, Mandi asked, "Do you really believe that?" Her tone got Cade's attention. She was up to something. "No, not really," he said. "If I was, I wouldn't have started WiccaWorks.com or written over a dozen books. I figured you had some reason for converting me, but not wanting me to let John know about it. What's on your mind, milady?" Pausing -- probably for effect, Cade thought -- Mandi said, "I'm putting together a special response team. I was kind of hoping you'd volunteer to help train people." Taking another bite of burger and creating a pause of his own, Cade said thoughtfully, "Uh, huh. 'Volunteer', indeed. You were going to wait until after I'd finished converting and had changed so much that my old life wouldn't be enough, but your doubts about me made us reach this point a little earlier than you had in mind. Who's coming at us and what's the setup?" "What made you ask that? 'Who's coming at us'?" With a shrug, Cade said, "Just figures, as I see it. You may only be assembling a team to help with natural disasters and work with cops and firemen, but I'd have to doubt that. If you were, you'd be shopping for cops and firemen; people with that kind of training, who'd know the limitations of the equipment and people involved. Instead, you drafted me." "Drafted you? Volunteerism isn't mandatory, you know." "How long would my conversion be a secret if I turn you down, ma'am? When would all the government agencies and anybody else who figured to hire a super-bodyguard or whatever stop knocking on my door?" "You think I'd tell anyone you'd been converted?" "John, maybe. Or maybe I'd slip up and do something super in public. Doesn't matter how the info gets out; it will. The combined might of an army might not be enough to take you down, but I'm not going to be quite that powerful, am I?" "Well, no, but..." "But I'm going to be powerful enough to make the authorities nervous as hell about having me around, right?" Meeting his gaze, Mandi nodded slightly. "Yes." "So unless I'm under someone's supervision -- someone stronger than me and whom they believe they can control, even if only because she wants their cooperation -- I may never have another damned day of peace or privacy. That's the way their little minds work." After a moment, Mandi asked, "You're pretty angry with me, aren't you, Ed?" He shook his head. "No. No point. In this case, done is done, right or wrong. How soon will you need me?" Mandi's gaze narrowed questioningly. "Don't you want to know a little more about what..." Cade began bagging their trash and said, "Sure. Let's check out the next restaurant. You can tell me all about it while we eat. Got a schedule to meet?" "Uh, well, sort of. The President offered me the use of an obsolete missile base and some money to fix it up." "Hm. Remote, mostly underground facilities. You're going to convert some women, too, aren't you?" Somewhat guardedly, Mandi asked, "Why do you ask?" Grinning at her, Cade said, "You're talking about converting a bunch of people, ma'am. It seems to me that I'll probably be too dangerous for unconverted women by Wednesday or so, and I'm thinking it would be nice if I had some variety, too." Standing up and pitching the fast food bag at a trashcan about thirty feet away, he added, "Besides, it just wouldn't be fair otherwise, would it? And you'll be spending federal money, so somebody'd sue you for discrimination in a heartbeat." Getting to her feet, Mandi said, "You can be pretty irritating at times, Cade. You know that, don't you?" He shrugged. "Yeah, I've been told that." With a wicked grin, she said, "Well good. Then maybe you can figure out why I suddenly have a craving for Mexican food." Cade shrugged again. "Hey, you're a big girl with your own money, ma'am. If you want Mexican food, then by God, it's your right to eat the nasty stuff. I'll be at the fish 'n chips place across the way. Just gimme a holler when you're ready to move on and be sure to brush your teeth real well later, okay?" "What?! You aren't coming with me?" Doing his best to look puzzled, Cade said, "Well, I thought that's what I said. Yeah. I'm pretty sure that's what I said." Raising her voice slightly to a strident tone, Mandi asked, "How would you like to walk back to the hotel, Ed?" "The oldest routine in the book. 'If you don't cooperate, honey, you'll have to walk home'. Tacky. Very tacky. I'd never pull something like that on a date. Besides, it's only about twelve miles. I can call a cab or take a MARTA train if I don't feel like walking." "The what? What the hell's a MARTA train?" "It's a buck-fifty to go all over Atlanta unless it's gone up since last year. There's a station a quarter-mile west of here, so no sweat. Still want Mexican food?" Standing straight, Mandi gloweringly said, "Yes. I do." Cade said, "Then by all means go for it. We can meet up later," and started walking toward the fish place. There was a breeze and Mandi suddenly appeared in front of him, her hands on her hips and an angry glint in her eyes. "Yes?" asked Cade. In an ominous tone, she stated, "I'm not accustomed to being abandoned during a date." "You aren't being abandoned. We can meet up in a little while and..." "That's not acceptable." "Then pick another restaurant tonight and eat Mexican food when you're out with someone else." "Is that what this is about? Me converting other men?" "Hell, no. It's about Mexican food. I told you how I felt about it, and now you seem to want to get some just to give me a hard time. That's what isn't acceptable, lady." "Don't you realize how it would look if we split up?" Sighing, Cade asked, "Like we had an argument? Like one of us flatly won't eat Mexican food? Like somebody isn't getting her way in things? Like one of us is trying to establish the beginnings of control over the other? And I'm not talking about me, by the way." He gestured around and said, "I don't give a rat's ass what anyone way the hell out here thinks about a couple of tourists and you aren't some poor, defenseless prom queen. If you really want Mexican food, go get some. If it doesn't really matter, let's go to the fish 'n chips place."

Mandi had returned to the room after an hour or so of unsettled boredom aloft. She'd heard the door to Beth's room open and had glanced that way through the walls. Seeing Beth alone had puzzled her, and she'd scanned the hotel for Cade. Finding him standing at the bar drinking a beer puzzled her further. Had something gone wrong? Mandi glanced toward Beth's room to see if she appeared upset at all and saw Beth hurrying about, tidying up the room. A few moments later, Beth swilled some mouthwash and checked her face and hair in the bathroom mirror. Hmm. Not the actions of a despondent woman. Looking back down at Cade, Mandi saw the bartender put some bottles in a bag and hand the bag to him, then saw Cade head for the elevators. Uh, huh. As far as Mandi knew, Cade wasn't that fond of booze. Unless she was mistaken and he was bringing the drinks to her, he and Beth were going to party. A few minutes later, Mandi heard Cade's almost inaudible footsteps approaching in the corridor. He wasn't sneaking; the sounds of his striding steps were no different than usual. She watched him glide past their door and on to Beth's door, then open it and enter, after which he used a knuckle to tap softly on the door. Beth answered, "In here, Ed." The way Beth kissed Cade after he delivered the wine let Mandi know that there were definitely no difficulties between them. She watched a few moments longer, mostly just to see how Cade would proceed. In a rather gentlemanly manner he soon had Beth down to her panties and was removing his own clothes by the desk when something about his demeanor changed in some barely perceptible manner. Cade straightened up, turned slightly to face Mandi's direction and sipped his beer, then he nodded slightly and tipped his bottle toward her. Sipping again, he rubbed his forearms before rubbing the back of his neck as he set the bottle on the desk and walked with Beth to the shower. Mandi sat down in her desk chair in openmouthed amazement. Cade knew! He actually knew she was watching him! But how? And did he really know, or was he just assuming..? But he'd looked right at her. Not toward the bed area or anywhere else. Straight at her. Just a lucky guess? Somehow Mandi didn't think so. Switching her vision to normal, she lay back on the bed to think and fell asleep sometime before Cade let himself into the room. Although he moved as quietly as ever, Mandi came awake and watched him through the darkness. Almost as if he, too, could see in the dark, he went to the desk, stripped, and headed for the bathroom, where he didn't turn on the light until he'd closed the door. Hm. Considerate of him, anyway. After a quick shower and the use of his toothbrush, Cade padded across the room to the bed, slipped under the sheets, and went to sleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

After the third time Cade had helped Beth climb her personal mountain to its summit, she lay limp and winded on the bed for some moments, then she drowsily asked Cade to get her a glass of water. He kissed lips, then her breast, and then her thigh as he slid past her off the bed and stood up. Saluting her, he said, "Yes, ma'am. One water coming up," and headed for the bathroom, where he quickly drank several glasses himself before taking hers to her. Beth seemed barely awake enough to drink half the water, then she handed him the glass and let her arm fall to the bed as she sighed deeply. "I'm gonna take a nap," she said, almost slurring the words. "You?" Cade's stomach rumbled at him, prompting him to say, "Can't. I'm starving. How about I come back in an hour or so? Think you'll be up to another round by then?" Giggling softly, Beth nodded and said, "Sure. Maybe by then. Take my keycard. If I'm asleep when you get back, just get into bed and snuggle up." Leaning to kiss her, Cade said, "A lady with a plan. I like that. Yes'm. I'll climb in and snuggle." Beth giggled again, pulled the covers up, and mumbled, "I feel so incredibly, absolutely used..." "Excellent," said Cade, putting his pants on, "That's exactly what I was shooting for, milady." Laughing softly, Beth adjusted her pillow and said, "It felt like you were shooting me. From the inside. We have these rooms all day, Ed. I have to catch a nine o'clock flight, so hurry back. We aren't through yet." "I'll bring you something from the restaurant." Nodding, she said, "Thanks. Doesn't matter what it is. God, I haven't felt like this in ages..." He kissed her again and trailed his fingers down her blanketed form to her knees, picked up the keycard, and buttoned his shirt on the way to the door. Cade stepped out of Beth's room feeling as if he hadn't eaten in days. Instead of waiting for an elevator, he took the stairs down two flights and entered the con suite to see what was on the buffet. The black guy who seemed to be in charge of the con suite every year saw him coming and waved from behind a serving table as he picked up a large aluminum tray that still held half a dozen sliced sandwiches. "Hi, guy!" said Cade. "Still wearing red, huh? Don't you know that's an unlucky color in Starfleet?" "No sweat. Ever notice how they never send the cooks on away teams? Crucial bridge personnel, medics, scientists, security types, and even family members and practically any-damned-body else who wants to go, but never the cooks." Grinningly shaking his hand, Cade said, "Good point, indeed. Seems to me, though, that anybody that valuable oughta be wearing gold and have the keys to the ship." The guy laughed, "Damned right, but it'll never happen." Cade reached for a sandwich, but the guy moved the tray away and said, "Nah, these have been out there all morning, man. They're stale as hell. I'm supposed to pull them." "Got any more behind the bar?" "Not yet. In an hour or so it'll be time to set out the lunch snackies, though. Can you hold on that long?" "No," Cade said firmly, reaching for the tray again and getting a grip on it. "Stale is fine; I'm starving. I'll bring you the tray in a few minutes. It won't leave this room." Sounding a bit like Jim Carey, the guy raised his hands clear and said, "Well, all righty, then." "Fanks," Cade said around some ham and cheese. "No problem. I thought they fed you guys. Or paid you enough to afford food, anyway." Swallowing the last of the first sandwich, Cade said, "Special circumstances," and started on the next sandwich. Someone reaching for potato chips nudged his arm and the tray tilted sharply. Cade righted it quickly enough to keep the sandwiches aboard, but there was a loud 'wunk' sort of noise and the black guy's eyes got big as he looked at the tray. Cade's gaze followed his and he thought, 'Oh, shit,' as he saw that his thumb had heavily dented the edge the heavy aluminum tray, squashing the ridge around it flat and warping the metal for several inches. "Um. Sorry," said Cade. He stacked the remaining sandwiches on a napkin and turned the tray over to push the damaged area flat, then handed the tray across the table, gathered up the sandwiches, and said, "Sorry. Really," and turned to go. "Hey," said the black guy, "Wait." Turning to face him, Cade indicated the tray and asked, "Would ten bucks cover it?" "I buy 'em used. Seven would do it, but that's not..." He waited until another table-grazer moved away and continued, "How'd you do that? I ran over one of these trays with my truck once and didn't much more than scratch it a little." Setting the sandwiches down, Cade fished ten bucks out of his money clip, laid it on the tray, and said, "I've had a real workout this morning. That's why I'm so hungry. Thanks again," and headed for the door with the sandwiches, detouring to the drink dispenser for a cup of Dr Pepper. One of the sandwiches disappeared on the way back to the stairwell. The rest vanished only in a few minutes as Cade sat on the third floor landing and considered what he'd just done to the heavy aluminum tray with his thumb. Damn. Mandi hadn't been exaggerating at all. He considered his time with Beth and shuddered. One wrong move... one unrealizing squeeze while he'd been... Oh, hell. He'd been wrong when he'd said to Mandi that he expected to be dangerous to women in a week or so. But she hadn't corrected his estimate. Because they'd been arguing, or because she'd figured about the same amount of time? Was he ahead of schedule or something? Reaching for the bent-pipe safety railing of the stairs, he squeezed. At first nothing happened, so he squeezed a little harder. The tubing crumpled in his hand. Staring at the damaged pipework, Cade knew he couldn't continue with Beth. He'd been extremely lucky not to have hurt her this morning, no damned doubt about that. Then it struck him that he hadn't mashed any of the sandwiches and he remembered Mandi having mentioned the same phenomenon the night before. She'd said, 'You didn't squash your burger, did you?' Or something like that. Maybe he could continue with Beth. If he was very gentle, very careful... Wait one. He was describing all but a very few moments of their time together the night before. And this morning had been one long, easygoing, session. No hard riding at all, except when she'd been on top. "That's it," he softly said aloud to himself. "Slow and easy unless she's on top. That ought to work." He'd been so preoccupied that he hadn't noticed Mandi's presence descending between the stairwells until his last thought had essentially seemed to solve his dilemma. As he sipped the last of his Dr Pepper, she floated to a stop directly behind him and cleared her throat with a grin, obviously expecting Cade to jump out of his skin. Cade drained the cup and said, "Hi, Mandi," without so much as a flinch. Annoyed as hell that she hadn't startled him and determined not to let him see her failure, Mandi concealed her irritation as she flitted upward enough to clear the handrail, then settled to the steps just below the landing so they'd be more or less eye-to-eye. Glancing around, she asked, "Is there some reason you're sitting in the stairwell?" He pointed to the crumbs on the napkin and said, "I've just been having a private snack before I head down to breakfast. Care to join me?" "I've already eaten, but I guess I could stand another coffee." Grinning, she asked, "What was that 'slow and easy unless she's on top' all about, Ed?" Stuffing the napkin into the paper cup, Cade stood up and walked downstairs past her as he said, "Just a kind of safety lecture about dealing with unconverted women." Turning to follow him, she asked, "'Dealing' with them, huh? Sounds to me as if you plan to be doing more than 'dealing' with them. Anyone in particular?" "Could be. I know some unconverted women. Wouldn't know them very long if I let myself get clumsy with them." Chuckling, Mandi said, "Likely so, but in a few days it will be better if you don't play with them at all." Glancing back at her, Cade asked, "Why's that?" Raising an eyebrow at him, Mandi grinningly said, "Think about it. A normal man can squirt about how far? Three feet? Once you're fully converted, you'd kill your unconverted lady." Cade stopped on the stairs and looked at her. Mandi's face was -- 'dead' serious, you could say -- and she made sense. To confirm, Cade asked, "You're saying that a week from now, you'll be my only sexual option?" Mandi's face turned glowering. "Should I slap the hell out of you now, or let you explain what you really meant?" Shaking his head, Cade said, "Sorry. Poor choice of words. But you know what I mean. No unconverted women, right?" Not terribly mollified, Mandi answered, "Right." After a moment, Cade asked, "How many converted women are there at present?" "Two." "And where are they?" "Las Vegas. One's a cop. The other runs her own business." "And there's another woman like you on Earth?" "Yes. In California." Some moments passed before Cade said, "Nope. I don't buy it," and continued down the stairs to the lobby. In a sharp tone, Mandi called after him, "Just what exactly don't you buy, Cade?" Stopping again, Cade said, "In all this time on Earth, you've only converted two women? She's converted no women? That's what I don't buy, Mandi. It may be true, but I don't believe it at this very moment. Later." With that, he opened the lobby door and left the stairwell. Cade wanted to eat and haul his ass back up to Beth's room for what might be his last sexual romp for a long time, the way things seemed to be going. In fact, he did believe what she'd said about soon being too dangerous for unconverted women. But he didn't for a moment believe that a woman who admitted converting two other women would have any hesitations about converting more if they qualified and were needed. Mandi had tapped the President for money and a place to train people and she'd felt it necessary and justified to convert him without asking how he felt about it, so there was a definite need for convertees. It was as simple as that. She'd need them in both genders, too, if she were training enough of them to justify requesting a place to train them. The sense of total alienation would be too much for many of the convertees, otherwise. Nope. Either there already were more or there would be more convertees reasonably soon, and about half of them would be female unless Mandi planned to spend a great deal of her time servicing all her male convertees herself. Choosing a booth, Cade told the waiter to bring him one of the lunch specials. As the waiter left, Mandi came to stand by the booth. "Mind if I join you?" "Have a seat. Want me to call the waiter back?" Shaking her head as she sat down, Mandi said, "No. I'll order a coffee or something when he comes back." For long moments, the two of them simply matched gazes across the table, then Mandi said, "There are only two in Vegas. There are a few others elsewhere around the country." When Cade said nothing, Mandi asked, "Since you didn't ask about male convertees, I'll..." "I don't give a rat's ass about the men," he interrupted, "I want to know about the women. Got any in Florida?" "No. Georgia. They work with the Center for Disease Control and other agencies. In fact, they've been working with another NIA branch this weekend. As backups, you could say, in case more happened than I could handle at once. One of them was even in the look-alike contest." Sipping his water, Cade said, "Fascinating. Did you convert any of them without asking first?" With a sigh, Mandi said, "NO, and you said 'done is done', as I recall. I'm sorry and that's all I can say. I thought someone your age would be..." That rankled Cade a bit. "'Someone my age?' Would be what? That someone any other age wouldn't be, that is." Gazing hard at him across the table, Mandi said, "I'd very much appreciate it if you wouldn't interrupt me when I'm speaking, Ed. I thought you'd be considerably happier about being chosen for conversion." "That's your word for it. 'Near-total alienation' is what I'm calling it for the moment." The waiter buzzed up to the table and asked Mandi what she'd like. She ordered a coffee and the waiter told Cade that his lunch would arrive shortly, then he buzzed away again. Mandi sat back and said, "You crushed that steel rail in the stairwell. If that's an indication of your progress, you'll be able to stop a tank round with your bare hands in a week. You'll be bulletproof and no Earthly disease will be able to touch you. You'll be stronger and faster than you can possibly imagine and you may develop some of my other powers to a degree." Pausing, Mandi sipped the water the waiter had brought her and added, "And there's one more little thing. Our cells replicate, but they don't degenerate with every copy. Do you understand what that means?" "Sure. It means I may have time enough to write another few thousand books." "You don't seem very impressed with virtual immortality." "Of course I am. I'm just not letting it overshadow the fact that you're forming teams, which means that something more than you can handle alone is headed this way, and if it's bigger than you, it'll be able to squash a convertee in a heartbeat."

Tossing her hands up, Mandi softly exclaimed, "Okay. I give up. What the hell can I possibly do to make this terrible thing I've done up to you, Ed?" "Nothing, really," said Cade. "If something that big is coming, being as much like you as possible will probably increase my chances of survival. I just wanted you to know how I felt before you pulled the same 'oh, he won't mind' trick on someone else." The waiter arrived with food as Mandi sat staring at Cade. When the waiter finished placing food on the table, Cade told him to bring another lunch special. The waiter thought he meant for Mandi and smilingly nodded at her. Cade then told him to also pack one to go. "To go, sir?" "Yup. It's going upstairs with me." "Yes, sir. One more to the table and one to go." "You got it. Thanks." When the waiter had left, Mandi smilingly asked, "Why didn't Beth come down to lunch with you?" Digging into his food, Cade said, "She needed a nap. Why were you watching us last night?" Startling imperceptibly, Mandi thought, 'He DID know!' then she said, "When you didn't come back to the room, I thought maybe you'd gotten into more trouble." Around some steak, Cade said, "Uh, huh. Glad I'm wearing boots, ma'am." He cut another piece and said, "Got a question. Am I just processing mass into energy?" "Partly. You're being restructured, which requires quite a bit of both mass and energy." "So I could probably just drink a lot of water or eat a phone book and it wouldn't matter a damn to the process?" Mandi snickered and asked, "A phone book?" "Bulk. Mass. Something to convert. It doesn't necessarily have to be food, right? Just a steady supply of mass." "I suppose so. Will you want gravy on your phone book?" "Probably wouldn't be a bad idea. You seemed surprised that I squashed that rail in the stairwell. Why? Am I ahead of schedule or something?" Nodding, she said, "It would seem so. A little, anyway." "Why would that be?" Mandi shrugged. "Your system is accepting conversion easily and you're having sex with Beth." "What does sex have to do with it?" Filching his tomato slice, she said, "All human bodily functions are closely tied to the reproductive system. Stir things up and the process can speed up considerably." "Speed up only, or also enhance the process? Could I wind up being a bit more... 'super'... at the other end?" "Yes, you could. Others have, for the same reason." With a nod, Cade met her gaze and asked, "Do you want optimum conversion, or would plain old average do?" "Optimum would be nice, of course." Cade sliced off a chunk of meat and ate it, then said, "I think so, too, also of course. There's nothing quite like knowing your support people are as good as they can possibly be. Beth is good for another few hours, then she'll leave for D.C. or I'll become too much for her. Doesn't matter which; that'll be the end of it. If we're going to try to optimize me, I'll need someone to take her place." "Her name is Andrea. I've already talked to her." "Why not you?" Mandi sighed and said, "Sorry. You're still several days away from being able to make love to me, Ed." Another chunk of steak later, Cade asked, "So this Andrea -- who's never even met me -- is willing to take over for Beth in my bed, huh?" "If she likes you. She's very fond of sex. If she doesn't like you enough, she'll simply supervise your normal conversion." "I'll need supervised? It won't just happen on its own?" Sighing again, Mandi said, "Yes, of course it would, but there are ways -- that don't involve sex -- to heighten the effect a bit." "What ways?" "Hard exercise and energy infusion can help." "Energy infusion?" "Direct transfer from one of us to you. That couldn't happen for another day or two, though. It would kill you." Filching his other slice of tomato, she said, "Andrea is taking a week off to help you through this. John says you have a three-bedroom house." "It would be if I threw out two rooms'-full of ceramic molds and computer gear." After a pause, Mandi said, "Oh." Cade chuckled. "Yeah. Oh. The place is a factory, too. But don't worry about it. If we don't get along well enough to sleep together, I'll take the couch for a week. Think she'd like to go to Disneyworld and some of the other tourist traps?" Smiling, Mandi canted her head and said, "I really don't know. I do know she shoots pool fairly well." Returning her smile, Cade said, "Well, that's a plus." He'd just put the last bit of steak in his mouth when Mandi said, "Slide your plates over here. John's coming." Shoving everything to her side of the table, Cade asked, "Why doesn't he know about this, Mandi?" Giving him a firm look, Mandi said, "He's not in the loop." "I've known him for ages. He'd be cool with it." "Okay, he probably would be, but you weren't supposed to happen for a while yet. Quiet. Here he comes." As John walked up to the table, Cade thought, 'Not supposed to happen for a while yet? What the hell?' "Hi, all," said John, taking a seat beside Mandi. "Good news. They found Kahlil this morning. The company is saying this op is finally over." More strangeness. John had referred to 'the company', which the NIA most definitely wasn't. Only the CIA was referred to as 'the company' by anyone who knew the difference, and John definitely knew the difference. Cade said nothing and gave John a slightly puzzled look as Mandi agreed that it was good news, indeed. John gave Cade the old-days hand sign that meant 'later' and talked to Mandi as the waiter brought the other steak dinners Cade had ordered and asked John if he'd like anything. John ordered coffee. 'Great,' thought Cade. 'Settle one problem and up pops a new one. Get through one puzzle and another one will fall into your lap pretty much instantly.' He started in on the second dinner as Mandi and John chatted and talked about wrapping things up in the ops room. Cade kind of hurried through his steak and John asked him why he was in a rush. Pointing at the 'go' bag, Cade told him that was for someone upstairs and that he didn't want it to get cold. "Would it maybe be for Beth?" asked John. "Can't let her starve. She's NIA property." "Thought so. Carter says you've been spending a lot of time in her room." "Someone was using my room." Meeting John's gaze, Cade cautioned, "Beth doesn't know -- or maybe she just doesn't want to know -- that anyone else knows, you know? I don't really know why it matters to her, but it does." Mandi grinningly crossed her heart and zipped her lips like a schoolgirl taking a pledge of silence. John chuckled and nodded as he spoke. "No sweat. Like it or not, she knows we've been monitoring the hallways, so this has to be a personal preference. I'll mention to Carter to keep it quiet, okay?" "Thanks. Word'll probably get out sooner or later, but it doesn't have to happen today." As he finished up his steak, Mandi said, "I'll see you later, Ed. Give me a call around seven or drop by the room." "Seven. You got it." Cade stood up and picked up the bag and the bill, then said, "Later, all. I'll tip the waiter when he makes my change," and headed for the register. After paying the bill, Cade took the stairs to save time and reached Beth's room in moments. He let himself in, put the card on the desk, and went to the bed. Beth seemed to be in deep sleep, but as he turned away, she spoke. "Hi, there." "Hi, yourself, lady. I brought you some food." Smiling drowsily up at him, she said, "Such service. Maybe I should keep you, Cade. What do you think about that?" "I think you'd be disappointed, ma'am. I turn into a plain ol' inconsiderate, garden variety man on weekdays and I get downright mean on holidays. Hope you like steak for lunch." Sitting up, Beth said, "Steak is fine, Ed. I'll bet you don't change at all, really. I'll bet you're like this all the time." He shrugged. "Maybe so. Doesn't matter. You have to fly back to D.C. tonight and I'll be in Florida by tomorrow. Let's just play some more and make the best of our time together." Tossing the sheet aside, Beth stood up. Cade eyed her nakedness as she walked over to him and embraced him for a moment, then kissed him. "You're a nice man," she said quietly. "You're good in bed, too. I could do a lot worse, I think, if you were up for it." Kissing her, Cade said, "Thanks, milady, but you're still too young and beautiful to settle for less than you deserve. Try me again in a few years if you can manage to stay single." With a sardonic chuckle, she said, "Well, hell, I've managed this long, haven't I?" and opened the restaurant bag to begin unpacking it on the desk. As she sat down to eat, she eyed Cade and asked, "Am I going to be the only naked person in this room?" Pretending vast surprise, Cade said, "Oh! Yes'm, I'll get right to that. Very sorry, ma'am. I was so wrapped up in eyeballing your gorgeous bod that I just completely forgot. You know how it is, don't you?" Laughing, Beth said, "Yeah, sure. I know how it is," and dug into her food. A few bites later she asked, "Hey, Cade. If I'm so gorgeous, how come all the other guys don't act like you?" "Simple ignorance, ma'am. They don't know how." "So how did you become so knowledgeable?" "I had a good teacher early in life." "Who was she?" "One of my teachers in high school." Glancing up incredulously, Beth asked, "Really?" "Yup. I was sixteen. She was twenty-six and kind of pushy, just like you. I learned a lot at that lady's knees." Beth nearly choked with laughter. "At her knees...? Uh, yeah, well, I suppose... That's where you'd have been..." Patting her back, Cade said, "Yup. Most of the time, too, as I prefer to recall. Just try to breathe for now, Beth. Talk later." Beth managed to eat most of her steak and Cade finished what she couldn't, then they spent the rest of the afternoon like newlyweds on a honeymoon. At six-forty-five her ride to the airport pulled up at the front doors and -- to Cade's surprise -- Beth hugged him and kissed him long and hard. Holding her close, Cade whispered, "Somebody might see." Snickering, she said, "Screw 'em. There were cameras in the halls, anyway. Everybody who doesn't know now will know by tomorrow. I'll deal with it." "Would saying 'thank you' sound trite, ma'am?" "Not if I say it first. Thanks, Cade." Then she made a show of glancing at her watch, making an apologetic face and an excuse about long check-in times these days, and hurried into the waiting car. They waved good-bye as the car rolled down the ramp, then it turned left at the street and she was gone. Cade sighed once, then turned to go back upstairs. A tall, thirtyish, brunette woman in a sharp, shades-of-green skirt and jacket business ensemble asked, "Your wife?" Stopping to meet her gaze, Cade said, "No. A friend." After a short pause, he added, "A very nice lady." The woman had ice-gray eyes like fine gemstones that were nearly on a level with Cade's. Her face at first seemed rather plain, or perhaps she simply wore no makeup, but her strong character shone through her features like a beacon. A very impressive woman. Her full lips parted and Cade realized she was speaking again as she said, "Are you all right?" Shaking off her spell, Cade said, "Uhm. Yes, ma'am. Sorry. You have... unique eyes. They're a color I don't see often enough. Very lovely." With a grin, he added, "I guess they kind of shorted out my little brain for a few seconds. Excuse me, but I have to be somewhere shortly." Taking his cell phone out of his pocket as he left her, he dialed Mandi's number, even though he'd felt her watching since Beth and he had left her room with her luggage. Mandi answered, "Hi, Ed. Andrea's here. I've filled her in. Come on up to the room." "On my way, milady." A toddler on a leash managed to get loose and came running Cade's direction as his mother tried to call him back. When the kid neared him, Cade's arm flashed out and snagged the kid's collar. He constrained the thrashing little beast at arm's length as he continued talking to Mandi. "Gimme an extra few minutes, ma'am. I have to return something to someone down here." Laughing, Mandi said, "So I see. Good collar, Officer Ed." The woman arrived to collect her child and Cade got underway again. On the fourth floor landing, he thought he heard voices and looked up and down the stairwell. Nobody either way. He turned a bit and listened a little harder. Some guy was trying to arrange a rental car. The other voice he heard was apparently that of a rental agent on a phone, and the voices seemed to be coming from the other side of the fourth floor hallway door. No, not the door; to one side of it. Cade stepped that direction and clearly heard the agent tell the guy that the kind of car he wanted would have to be brought in from the airport. The agent's voice was much fainter than the other one, so he probably wasn't on a speaker phone. That seemed to mean that Cade was listening to both sides of a conversation over a regular phone or a cell phone. "Look, I'm in a hurry," said the guy. "I'll head down to the lobby and get a cab. You just tell me who I have to see what all I have to do on the way, okay?" Cade instantly opened the landing door and stepped into the hallway. The door to the room on his left opened and a guy with a suitcase in one hand and a cell phone to his ear hurried out of the room and down the hall. 'Damn,' thought Cade, suddenly far too aware of a myriad of sounds in the hall. 'What other changes could he expect?' Mandi's idea that he might need supervision made more sense as he tried vainly to filter out some of the useless noise around him. Training was what he'd need. As he approached his room, he stopped walking as he heard Mandi say, "Ed has been a bit difficult, Andrea. More than a bit difficult, in fact. I hate to say it, but converting him may have been a mistake." A familiar woman's voice responded, "Oh, he didn't strike me as being all that terrible. You heard what he said about my eyes, didn't you? And the way he said it? And he was so polite when he excused himself and moved on. He called me 'ma'am'. Jerks don't act like that, Mandi." "Uh, huh. He'll call you 'milady', too, but don't let it go to your head. You know that horse you call a 'hardmouth'? The one who sometimes decides to go where he damned well pleases? You may come to think of Cade as a hardmouth, too." With a snicker, Andrea said, "Well, if I do, I'll be sure to let you know. But if he's no worse than what I've seen so far, he'll max out just fine, 'cause I'll bang his brains out all week." Laughing, Mandi said, "Yeah, sure. More likely he'll tickle yours loose first." She took a breath and intoned solemnly, "Be warned," then burst out laughing again. Laughing with her, Andrea said, "If he's that good, more power to him. What's keeping him?" 'Uh-oh,' thought Cade, getting underway again just as he felt Mandi's gaze locate him. A few steps later he tapped on the door as he used his keycard and let himself into his room.

"What's the matter, Mandi?" asked Andrea. "Oh, I think my watch has been fried," said Mandi. "Its screen is blank." "Open it," said Cade. "If the battery isn't swollen, it may just need to be taken out and put back in to reboot the watch." "Would that really work?" asked Andrea. Tapping his own watch, Cade said, "It might. It does when a computer power supply's field blanks my watch." Mandi fussed with the watch for a few seconds, then said, "There's a notch on the back, but I can't get my fingernails under the edge." Cade stirred the instant coffee as he walked toward her, then he put the coffee on the desk, reached for her watch, and looked at the back. Flicking his knife open, he used the tip to pry up the back of the watch and tickle the battery out of its holder, then he slid the battery back into place and checked the front. Showing it to Mandi, he said, "There you go, ma'am. You've got numbers again," then he handed her the watch and its back and said, "I'm afraid to squeeze it back on. You do it," and slapped his knife shut to return it to its belt sheath. "Thanks," said Mandi. "I never would have thought of that. I thought the battery was dead." "May I see that knife?" asked Andrea. Cade handed it to her closed. She took it and looked it over, then -- holding it rather gingerly, he thought -- unfolded the blade until it locked open with a loud 'whack' that seemed to startle her a little. She looked up and asked, "Why didn't it sound like that when you opened it?" "I was holding it like a tool. You're holding it like a delicate antique. Things make more noise in a light grip." Mandi snickered as Andrea studied Cade as if wondering if she were being teased, then her eyes fell back to the knife. She still held it rather gingerly as she studied the brass bolsters, the wood between them, and short serrated region on the stainless blade. "It looks as if you must have put those serrations on the blade yourself. Why?" "They're better for cutting rope and thick stuff and I can use the last two notches to strip insulation off wires." She glanced up again and said, "They make the knife look mean. Nasty." Leaning on the desk, Cade sipped coffee and said, "Only if you're viewing it strictly as a weapon. Do you feel that way about serrated kitchen knives, too?" Andrea shook her head. "No. I guess I don't. How long have you been carrying a knife?" "Since I worked on a ranch when I was a kid. This knife or one much like it. Back then oil came in cans and beer cans didn't have pull-tabs. I had to be able to dig things out from under horseshoes, pound wire staples back into fence posts, and cut rope and leather. Got a wild dog with it once when he came at me by the barn, and I got to where I could throw it and nail rats in the feed bin." Making an 'eeewww' face, Andrea handed the open knife back to him as Mandi laughed and Andrea asked, "I trust you clean it really well now and then?" Nodding with a grin, Cade said, "Yup, sure do," and put the knife away. Mandi was poking buttons on the watch, setting the time and date. She looked up at the alarm clock, then pushed a button a few more times. "Done," she pronounced. "Only time will tell if it'll still tell time. I need to get moving, people. Cade, I'll turn you over to Andrea now and drop in on you next weekend if I can't find time during the week. Andrea, he's all yours if you're sure." 'Sure?' thought Cade. He'd thought it was a done deal. "I wasn't absolutely sure before," said Andrea. "I'm sure enough now, I think. Enough so to deal with him for a week, anyway. Besides, if I have to, I can always dump him back on you and come back to Atlanta." With a short laugh, Mandi said, "Oh, no. He's yours. I have to get an antique missile base ready to receive guests." She stood up and held out her arms. Andrea got to her feet and Cade did likewise as she went to Mandi and hugged her. "What?" asked Mandi, looking at Cade. "I don't get a hug from you, too?" Going over to her, Cade said, "I just wasn't sure you'd want one from me. I've been a bit difficult about things." After she hugged him, Mandi held him at arm's length and met his eyes for a moment before speaking. "Ed, I was worried about having made a mistake by converting you right up until you grabbed a stick and tried to save that woman. You kill people a little too easily to suit me, but you're just as quick to put yourself in harm's way for them. We'll work something out, I think." Pulling him close, Mandi kissed him, then released him and turned into a blur for a moment. The blur became mostly red and white before she solidified wearing her uniform. "You two stay put," she said with a grin. "I can find my own way out," then she blurred to the door, opened and closed it in a split second, and was gone. "It still amazes me how she does that," said Andrea. "Yeah, she's quick," said Cade. As he picked up his coffee and moved to sit on the bed, bolts of agony coursed through his shins and thighs. When he leaned to rub them, more agony shot through his chest. He froze for a moment to let the sensations pass. Moving to stand in front of him, Andrea said, "I saw that. I'm not asking you now, Ed. I'm telling you. I want to see how badly you were hurt." Cade looked up into her eyes and got momentarily lost in them, as before. She reached for his shirt buttons and he leaned to set his coffee on the night table, then stood up and started undressing. "I think I'm probably just bruised a bit," he said, opening his shirt. Andrea gave him a mildly exasperated look and said, "As if you'd know," then sucked in her breath as she saw his chest. Her reaction made Cade turn to see himself in the mirror and he saw the bruising that covered nearly all of his chest. "Well, damn," he muttered. "It got me good, didn't it?" "Mandi said it hit your legs, too," said Andrea. "Off with the pants, too. Do you know what electricity does to muscle tissue? It forms a cone of damage below the skin and..." "Yes'm," said Cade. "I know. I was a medic once." He toed off his boots and unbuckled his pants, then let them drop and stepped out of them. Andrea studied the livid bruisings on his legs, reaching to touch his thigh. Cade asked, "Um... Will you be getting naked, too, anytime soon, do you think?" With a small smile, Andrea said, "I want to check you out first. Does that hurt?" "No, but it probably won't hurt for a while, anyway. I expect to really start feeling them later tonight or tomorrow, when I'm on the road back to Florida and don't have anything else to think about." Andrea's gaze narrowed slightly. "You drove here?" "Yup. Thought I might need my car and I don't want to go through the anti-terror hoops and barrels at airports." She seemed to consider matters -- particularly the matter in the middle of Cade that was stiffly pointing at her by that time -- for a few moments, then she said, "We could stay here another night or two. I'd rather not take you home with me because the neighbors... well, I'd just rather not take a man home with me." Shrugging, Cade said, "Yeah, here's good. Or I could drive halfway back and get a motel room, then finish the drive Tuesday. That will get the car and me home and still give us plenty of time to work on enhancing my conversion." "Why use euphemisms?" Andrea asked irritatedly. Cade stopped in mid sip and looked at her as he said, "I didn't. Isn't enhancing my conversion the reason she called you in on this? You don't know me from Adam, so..." "Yes," snapped Andrea. "Sure. You're right. That's why she called me." Striding to the desk chair and sitting down, she continued, "But it isn't the only reason I'm here now." She leaned to reach in the fridge and took out a soft drink, opened it, and eyed Cade as she sipped for a moment before speaking again. "You see, Cade, I like having sex. I mean, I really like it. Finding ways to get enough of it is a problem, because none of the converted men are near enough to just drop by when I'm horny and unconverted men are a waste of time. My women friends do more for me than unconverted men." "Ah..." said Cade with a nod. "Okay. Gotcha." "No, not yet, you don't. When Mandi told me that you'd -- achieved conversion -- and all on your own merits, as it were -- I was instantly interested; interested enough to take a week off and take over supervising your conversion for that reason alone. Then I met you and you gave me reasons to like you immediately. That doesn't happen all that often, either." "Um. Andrea, I still don't quite understand what happened in that shower. How did I get converted? I mean, I realize it had to be from nibbling on Mandi, but... then what? How?" "She didn't tell you?" "I'm asking, aren't I?" Grinning, Andrea sipped her drink and simply gazed at Cade for some moments, then asked, "You really brought her off all by yourself? No... 'help'... from her?" Tiring of the delay in receiving a useful answer as well as being the only naked person in the room, Cade said, "Yeah. All by myself. It's Standard Operating Procedure, ma'am; get 'em all wet and wound up and then lick 'em 'till they holler 'stop, please stop, I've had enough'." For a moment Andrea's face was somewhat stern, then her small smile became a small grin and she snickered. The snicker became a giggle, then an outright laugh. "I'll bet that last part can take a while sometimes." "Yeah," said Cade. He shrugged. "Some women never seem to wind down. Can't tell you how many times I've damned near sprained my tongue trying to get to a woman's very last one." Laughing again, Andrea said, "Tenacity. I like that." "Great. If you aren't going to tell me what happened or at least get as naked as I am any time soon, I think I'll head for a hot shower." "A shower might help those bruises. I'm getting to the answer, Ed." "So what happened to me?" "You triggered the release of a retrovirus. All women like Mandi have a small special gland that produces the stuff." "Converted women, too?" "Yes. We develop the same gland." "So when I nibble you off I'll get another dose. What then?" Shaking her head, Andrea said, "Nothing then. You've already been... dosed, as you called it." "Then why will having sex make the conversion better?" "Energy, Ed. Sex seems to help a convertee soak up energy and makes the process better somehow. A convertee who just sits on his ass during the first week will end up with maybe half the ability of one who screws his way -- or her way, of course -- through that crucial first week." Cade decided that he'd waited long enough for her to join him in nakedness and said, "Thanks for the info." He thumbed toward the bathroom and added, "See you in a while, unless you want to come get wet with me." Setting her drink can on the desk, Andrea smilingly said, "Sounds good. I'll be right there," and took off her jacket to hang it on the chair. Her skirt came next, then her blouse, then her half-slip and stockings, then her earrings and watch. "You women sure do wear a lot of stuff," said Cade.

Mandi stood on the roof and watched Andrea poke Cade's bruises as she asked if her activity hurt. 'They seem to be getting along fairly well,' she thought. Leaving them to their own devices, she lifted upward at barely subsonic speed until she reached fifty thousand feet, then she poured on the coal. A scant few minutes later she backed her speed down to subsonic again for her arrival in Las Vegas and had a good look around the city as she landed. 'Well, nothing seems to be missing or broken,' she thought as she landed on the roof of a friend's office building and changed into the dress she'd been wearing in Atlanta. A woman without a purse doesn't look out of place in an office building. People tend to assume she works there and is just out of her office for a few minutes. Mandi strode to the elevators, rode it five floors down to Lew "Jackie" Jackson's office, and waved as she entered. "Mandi!" said Jackie. "You're back!" then he muttered, "Not to mention your front..." Grinning as she sighed at the remark, Mandi said, "I heard that. Been watching old Groucho Marx reruns again?" "Are there any other kind? The guy hasn't been on TV for quite a while, y'know. How was Atlanta?" Reaching into the fridge, she said, "It's still there." "All because of you, according to WNN." "Oh, there were a few others involved." "They didn't show anyone else hauling cars into the sky. Hey, some guy called me about setting up a Mandi Steele look alike contest. Was that your idea?" "No, but it worked in Atlanta. You'll meet the guy who thought it up in a week or two. He's busy converting, and I'm going to call him out here to help with fixing up our new digs." "Converting, huh?" He shook his head. "Shoulda known. Let you run off to Atlanta and you meet some young cutie and..." Sighing again, Mandi said flatly, "He's fifty-three, Jackie." Shrugging, Jackie continued, "Okay, then, some old cutie. How many is this one? Six?" "Only five. Don't try to make me sound easy, you putz." She sipped her drink and said, "Anyway, if he doesn't develop flight, I'll fly him out here and we'll get things started." Indicating the 'in' basket on his desk, she asked, "Any messages for me in that pile?" "Oh, all of 'em. Of course. Nobody ever calls for me." "You poor thing. But if I recall correctly, they aren't supposed to call for you." "Still... It'd be nice, just once in a while, y'know?" Parking her butt on the edge of the desk, Mandi began pawing through the pile of pink 'While You Were Out' slips and said, "Pooor Baaaby. Being my secretary isn't enough for you anymore, huh? Don't I pay you enough?" The phone rang and he answered it, then held it out to her as he said, "John again. I'll see you later, Mandi. It's closing time and I'm shooting league tonight." Nodding, she said, "Thanks, Jackie. Have a good night." Grabbing his coat as he headed for the door, he grinningly said, "Always do." Perching the phone on her shoulder as she riffled through the messages, Mandi said, "Hi, John." "Hi, Mandi. Alan's in charge of the Mandi contests now. You'll be hearing from him soon." "Already have, John. Thanks." "You talked to Cade?" "I did, and he's in Andrea's hands until the conversion is finished." "That woman can handle him, Mandi. Cade's a sucker for eyes like hers." "I saw how you looked at her, John." She snickered and added, "Sucker." Laughing, John said, "Yeah, all right, she got me, too. Any hitches or glitches?" "A few, but I think they'll work out. Unless you need him for something, I'm going to bring him out here to work on the base in a couple of weeks." "You know us. We don't always know if we'll need somebody 'till we need him. Or her. Thanks again. Oh, and I covered your butt about those melted video tapes. The report now says a machine malfunctioned and overheated." "You didn't have to do that, John. Those tapes were a message to some people." "Oh, your message got through, Mandi. I just fixed the official report so there couldn't be any official flak later. Is there anything else?" "You called me, John. That's my line." "Ah, so it is. Well, there's nothing at this end of things. Keep me posted about Cade, will you?" "Will do." "Thanks, Mandi. Later. Bye." Before she could say 'you're welcome', he'd disconnected. Mandi tossed the handful of messages back in the basket and left the office to return to the roof. A quick change later she was in uniform and lifting into the sky again for a cruise around the city before going home for the evening. At the intersection of Las Vegas Boulevard and Lake Mead Road she dropped out of the sky to push a stalled truck to the side of the road and half an hour later she helped a Cessna land in one piece when the pilot passed out. When nothing else seemed to require her attention by one in the morning, Mandi headed home to see if a certain someone she was rather fond of had finished tweaking her website.

-- End, "An Encounter in Atlanta" --

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet