forearm. He used the same hand to turn on the stereo. The music that issued from the speakers had a hissing quality woven around and within the notes. White noise.
“Okay, now we should be good as long as we don’t shout,” the human head of daytime security said. “Is everything alright, your majesty?” he asked with a glance in the rearview mirror at Tanya.
“I think we’re good, Mr. Deckert,” she said with a small smile. Deckert was retired Marine Force Recon and had worked for the Demidovas for a half dozen years or so. He had always been a loyal, tough-as-nails employee, but Tanya had cured his daughter of cancer with her blood and now he cheerfully worshipped the ground under her and the air around her. I think he liked me too, but ours was a different relationship.
“Gordon,” he greeted me, tone even.
“Deckert,”I replied in my best imitation of his voice.
“How’s General Creek?”
“Kind of a bitter asshole,” I replied.
“That’s his nominal condition,” Deckert said. He reached into his uniform pocket and pulled out a cell phone. After swiping his thumb over the biometric app, he handed it to Tanya. “This started buzzing with texts a few moments ago. I think they’re for you and Gordon.”
“Yeah, there’s one from Gina—she says everyone’s okay and they’re being driven home by the security team,” Tanya said, still reading.
“What about the cops?” I asked.
“Gina says federal agents appeared almost instantly. The security guys told them they were taking their clients to safety and it would probably a bad idea to interfere. The feds told Gina they would be in touch. There’s also a text from a Stevens—that’s our Stevens, right?” she asked Deckert. He just nodded, eyes still focused on driving.
“Stevens says it looks to him like a professional contract hit squad. A driver and three heavy hitters with automatic weapons. All four DRT. DRT?”
“Dead Right There,” he translated. “You should probably hold off on replying until we get somewhere secure. This whole place is lousy with feds. FBI, NSA, lots of alphabets. Too dangerous.”
At the word dangerous , my dark half surged forward and expanded my senses, filling my brain with a 3-D worldview that covered everything around and above us. Somehow I was seeing without my eyes.
“There are seven very small quad-copter drones in the air around us. Most are converging on the hotel. One is following us,” I heard myself say in a deep voice.
Deckert never flinched. “Can it meet with a freak accident? One that doesn’t arouse too much attention?”
None of me answered right away; instead, my attention zoomed in on the lightweight quad drone thirty feet above us. We drove past a mom and pop corner convenience store and the drone started to rise above the large sign sticking out from the front of the building. I felt Grim do something with my/our aura and a gust of air pushed down on the little copter, shoving it into the sign. One of the four rotors shattered on the metal frame and the drone started to spin and tilt.
“Done,” my Grim voice answered.
Deckert glanced in his side mirror and I looked over my shoulder out the back windows. The little quad clattered to the road and an Escalade behind us crushed it under one big tire.
“That’ll do, pig, that’ll do,” Deckert said, looking forward and whistling his off to work song.
Five minutes later, he pulled into a warehouse garage whose name matched the one on the delivery van.
The business was legit and was, in fact, the very service that usually provided the hotel with its uniforms. Deckert pulled into an open vehicle slot and jumped out of the van. A few seconds later, he opened the rear doors for us to disembark. I reached into my pocket as I stepped out, pulling the folded note that Nathan Stewart
“Okay, now we should be good as long as we don’t shout,” the human head of daytime security said. “Is everything alright, your majesty?” he asked with a glance in the rearview mirror at Tanya.
“I think we’re good, Mr. Deckert,” she said with a small smile. Deckert was retired Marine Force Recon and had worked for the Demidovas for a half dozen years or so. He had always been a loyal, tough-as-nails employee, but Tanya had cured his daughter of cancer with her blood and now he cheerfully worshipped the ground under her and the air around her. I think he liked me too, but ours was a different relationship.
“Gordon,” he greeted me, tone even.
“Deckert,”I replied in my best imitation of his voice.
“How’s General Creek?”
“Kind of a bitter asshole,” I replied.
“That’s his nominal condition,” Deckert said. He reached into his uniform pocket and pulled out a cell phone. After swiping his thumb over the biometric app, he handed it to Tanya. “This started buzzing with texts a few moments ago. I think they’re for you and Gordon.”
“Yeah, there’s one from Gina—she says everyone’s okay and they’re being driven home by the security team,” Tanya said, still reading.
“What about the cops?” I asked.
“Gina says federal agents appeared almost instantly. The security guys told them they were taking their clients to safety and it would probably a bad idea to interfere. The feds told Gina they would be in touch. There’s also a text from a Stevens—that’s our Stevens, right?” she asked Deckert. He just nodded, eyes still focused on driving.
“Stevens says it looks to him like a professional contract hit squad. A driver and three heavy hitters with automatic weapons. All four DRT. DRT?”
“Dead Right There,” he translated. “You should probably hold off on replying until we get somewhere secure. This whole place is lousy with feds. FBI, NSA, lots of alphabets. Too dangerous.”
At the word dangerous , my dark half surged forward and expanded my senses, filling my brain with a 3-D worldview that covered everything around and above us. Somehow I was seeing without my eyes.
“There are seven very small quad-copter drones in the air around us. Most are converging on the hotel. One is following us,” I heard myself say in a deep voice.
Deckert never flinched. “Can it meet with a freak accident? One that doesn’t arouse too much attention?”
None of me answered right away; instead, my attention zoomed in on the lightweight quad drone thirty feet above us. We drove past a mom and pop corner convenience store and the drone started to rise above the large sign sticking out from the front of the building. I felt Grim do something with my/our aura and a gust of air pushed down on the little copter, shoving it into the sign. One of the four rotors shattered on the metal frame and the drone started to spin and tilt.
“Done,” my Grim voice answered.
Deckert glanced in his side mirror and I looked over my shoulder out the back windows. The little quad clattered to the road and an Escalade behind us crushed it under one big tire.
“That’ll do, pig, that’ll do,” Deckert said, looking forward and whistling his off to work song.
Five minutes later, he pulled into a warehouse garage whose name matched the one on the delivery van.
The business was legit and was, in fact, the very service that usually provided the hotel with its uniforms. Deckert pulled into an open vehicle slot and jumped out of the van. A few seconds later, he opened the rear doors for us to disembark. I reached into my pocket as I stepped out, pulling the folded note that Nathan Stewart
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