The Miranda Contract Read Online Free PDF Page A

calls and screams. She wore shades and a baseball cap but Dan recognized her from the posters being thrust in the air by loyal fans all around him.
    The flashes of cameras lit up her face behind the impressive wall of retainers and each time the cameras surged forward Miranda seemed to shrink back. The group were finding it difficult navigating the mob as well and for all their bulk and determination they didn’t seem capable of knocking down the fans, especially with all the cameras present.
    A reporter hitched herself up onto the van next to Dan’s bike and with a hand from her assistant, managed to scuttle up to the roof. In less than thirty seconds she preened herself and stood with the hotel masterfully presented behind her. A cameraman was shooting film from across the street, clear of the chaos. Dan could tell that her microphone was transmitting live. Its signal sung into the night joining the chorus of other feeds from the dozen or so reporters at the scene.
    At the entrance to the hotel another small group of Miranda Brody’s people waited, but the gulf between the two groups seemed to be getting larger.
    Dan looked at his watch.
    Then he looked back up at the hotel across the street. The girls were probably pressing their little faces against the glass screaming their little hearts out. Everywhere he looked he saw the same thing: ecstatic screams, red faces, open mouths, posters of the pop star.
    But the one they were all screaming for looked more like a scared little girl than a media magnet. It didn’t seem fair. The situation was ridiculous and without even the hint of a police presence it wasn’t going to improve. And that meant Dan’s final delivery would be delayed.
    He closed his eyes, rubbing at them to clear the image of his shaggy, wide-eyed and bearded grandfather. He was getting a headache. Two loud-mouthed girls shoved him as they made their way to the front of the crowd. His bike teetered a little and other people started to move around it leaving Dan with a vision of chipped paint or a toppled bike.
    Blue lightning streaked across his eyes as he opened them. Sometimes he hated the city.
    More fans jostled around him, their screams pushing against him like a physical force. The pack surged forward and then back a little when it hit the ring of security. Dan felt himself getting pulled along. His bike was just out of reach.
    He felt the electricity just under his skin now.
    A part of him wanted to taser the whole bunch and leave them convulsing in the night. He looked around for another option but all he found was more tear-streaked hysteria.
    It seemed inevitable.
    His fingers twitched.
    With another look at his besieged bike, Dan made the decision to save the girl. He clenched his fist and let the idea of stunning the crowd fall away.
    He had other options.
    The reporter on top of the van held her hair in place as she spoke to the unseen audience. He concentrated on the signals buzzing around her and isolated the woman’s mobile phone, accessing its number and contacts list. It was quite extensive and included a number of other industry reporters, many of whom were probably prowling through the crowds trying to get closer to the pinned celebrity.
    Dan pulled out his own phone and mentally composed a text. Using his control over the electrical world he dragged the database of numbers from the reporter’s phone and brought it across to his own. The message was then sent to dozens of other numbers, some of them close by. Dan allowed himself to track them at least in the short term, but soon the signals were buzzing in all directions like a swarm of invisible wasps. It was a nice development.
    He watched with satisfaction as the woman on the van reflexively touched her pocket. She had taken a break from directly talking to the camera and pulled out her phone. She looked at it closer and then across to the pack of Miranda’s security. Dan smiled as he saw the reporter’s face change from one of