The Project Gutenberg eBook of An Encounter in Atlanta She then took off her cape and gave it a rolling snap that left a faint cloud of undercarriage residue in the air. As she put it back on, Cade opened the front passenger door to retrieve the damp towel in the plastic bag, then used the towel to wipe smudges off the skin of Mandi's arms and shoulders as the WNN people approached. "Messy, messy," whispered Cade. "You need a bath, lady. Do you always get this dirty when you play with cars?" Mandi snickered as she held up a forearm smudge for Cade's attention. He used the opportunity to check her makeup as he buffed her arm clean. No damage. Prosthetics in place. "Makeup's fine," whispered Cade. "You know, those fake teeth are kinda sexy." Glancing sharply at him, Mandi started to say, "They aren't..." then said, "Watch it, smartass." "Oh, yes'm. Watching it now. In fact, there's a spot on the back of your right leg. Hold still another minute." Kneeling behind her, he folded the towel to a clean spot and rubbed the smudge from Mandi's calf. As he stood up, he saw the brunette newswoman eyeing him sharply, curiously. Patting Mandi's shoulder, Cade whispered, "There you go. All clean, milady. Go gettum," and stepped back a pace as he re-bagged the towel. A hotel employee stood near the front of the car. Cade tossed the bag to her with a grin and said, "It's a hotel towel." The woman looked at the bag, then at Mandi, and clutched the bag tightly to her middle as if afraid someone would take it from her. Had the towel suddenly become a souvenir? From the glove compartment of the car Cade took a sheaf of folded papers, which he handed to Mandi. She, in turn, offered one to the newswoman, who took it and started to introduce herself. "I'm Julia Waters," she said, "WNN news. Would you answer a few questions for me?" "After you've read the brochure, if there's time," said Mandi. "That's my press release. I can't stay long, so see if your questions are on there, okay?" Julia's eyes fell to the brochure and she opened it. As she did so, Mandi held up another brochure and said, "I have about a hundred of these, if anyone wants one." The crowd seemed to surge forward as a mass of grasping hands. WNN's newsteam found themselves jostled out of position as both Cade and Mandi handed out the brochures. Many immediately began clamoring for autographs. Cade handed Mandi a pen and continued to hand out brochures as Mandi signed brochures, clothing, arms, and whatever else people presented with a quick, cursive 'MS'. Just as they handed out the last of the brochures -- right on cue -- Cade's cell phone rang. He answered it, then tapped Mandi's shoulder and handed the phone to her. "Mandi," she said, then listened intently for a moment, said, "Be right there," and pushed the 'off' button as she handed the phone back to Cade. For the benefit of the audience, she asked Cade, "Will you take care of the car for me?" Nodding curtly, Cade strode around the car, got in, and started it. Easing through the crowd, he headed the car down the ramp toward the street, glancing in the rearview mirror. Mandi raised her arms for quiet and said, "I'm sorry, everybody, but I've been called away. Thank you all for your time," then she launched herself skyward. Turning right at the corner, Cade drove half a block and turned right again into the hotel's receiving docks. One of the guys from John's A-group opened the second set of gates and Cade turned the car over to him, then shut the gates behind him as he drove the Crown Vic to the front parking area. Chapter Thirteen As he walked up the steps to the hotel's rear entrance, Cade felt a watching presence and faded into some shadows to have a look around. Seeing no one immediately, he quietly dropped behind some bushes to get to another vantage point and continued studying his surroundings. There was still no one in sight, but the feeling was stronger than ever. No one on the ground or in nearby windows, he amended. Cade glanced up and around and saw Mandi hovering twenty feet or so above him. "If you want your clothes back," said Cade, "You'll promise not to sneak up on me like that again." "It didn't work, anyway," said Mandi, descending beside him. "I can't believe you found a way to disappear halfway up a flight of steps. I had to go to infrared to spot you. How'd you know I was up there?" Stepping out of the shadows, Cade said, "Just did." "Well?" asked Mandi. "How do you think it went?" "Well enough. We got away without having to deal intimately with the public or the news hounds." Lifting a cardboard box from what appeared to be a trash pile in the shadows to one side of the doorway, Cade handed Mandi a baggie containing her blue dress, purse, and shoes. "Your luggage, milady." Mandi chuckled and took the baggie, then turned into a blur that seemed to change colors rapidly. A couple of seconds later the blur ceased and Mandi wore her blue outfit as she appeared to compress a wad of red between her hands. Her red cape, Cade realized. The rest of her uniform must be inside it. He watched as she mashed it to the size of a packet of tissues and dropped it into her purse. "All set," she said, snapping the purse shut. "Damn," said Cade. "Wish I could do that. Don't know why I'd need to, exactly, but that was a helluva trick, ma'am. What about the prosthetics?" Patting her purse, Mandi grinningly said, "They went in separately. I didn't think they'd compress well." Nodding, Cade opened the door for her. They took the freight elevator to the tenth floor, then rode down to the fourth floor in one of the regular elevators. John met them near Cade's room and accompanied them inside without comment until Cade shut the door. "Well?" asked John. "How do you think it went?" "That's exactly what I asked him," said Mandi. "Well enough," said Cade, reusing his answer to Mandi. "We got away without having to deal intimately with the public or the news hounds." "Great," said John. "I talked with Paul Money. He's setting up a lookalike contest for tomorrow evening." Focusing on Mandi, he asked, "You're going to be in this room tonight?" "Yes," said Mandi. "We'll move my things in an hour or so, once everything's settled down." "Good enough." Turning to Cade, John asked, "You're staying here tonight, or moving to her room?" "Staying, if it's okay with Mandi." "It is," said Mandi. "This is where people expect to find him, and he can answer the door if anyone drops by." "Okay, then," said John. "I'll move Samuels into your room and you can have his tomorrow." Looking at his watch, he said, "Well, it's getting late, so I'll get out of here." Turning to Mandi again, he held out one of the brochures and a pen and said, "Oh, before I forget, would you autograph one of these for my daughter?" Mandi took it with a smile and signed it as Cade asked, "For your daughter, huh?" John gave him a droll look, but said nothing. "I haven't seen the brochure," said Cade, intercepting Mandi's return of the document to John. Unfolding the paper, he saw a near-photo-quality picture of Mandi in uniform on the left side of the page. On the right side was a brief that gave her name, a post box address in Arlington, VA, an email address, and a website address. "Kewl," said Cade, "It usually takes a whole day to put a site registration and activation through." "We have friends in the business," said John. He handed a printout to Mandi and said, "The site is paid up for five years. Here's the login info for both the website and the email. You can let us know where to send your snail mail." "I'll pick it up for now," said Mandi. "Thanks, John." With a nod, John reached behind himself for the door handle and said, "No problem. Later, people," as he let himself out of the room. When the door closed behind John, Cade turned to Mandi and said, "There's only one bed. I'll have the hotel bring up a folding bed if you want." Shaking her head, Mandi said, "No need," as she went to the little refrigerator and opened it. "Want anything?" "Maybe later. If your stuff's packed, I'll go get it." Opening a Coke, Mandi sipped it before she said, "I'm all packed, but I think it would be faster if I went for it. You guard the hallway, okay?" Leaning against the desk as he watched her drink again, Cade noddingly said, "Will do, milady." Mandi froze in mid-sip and gazed at Cade for some moments, then came to stand a couple of feet from him as she said, "Again and again I hear 'ma'am' and 'milady'. Are you into bondage games or something?" Meeting her gaze, Cade grinningly said, "Nope. That kind of stupidity never held any appeal for me." "Then why all the 'ma'am's and 'milady's?" "In case I forget your name, of course. If you're used to hearing me call you 'milady', you'll never realize..." Rolling her eyes and swatting his shoulder, Mandi said, "Yeah, right. Seriously, Ed. Why?" "I like it. If you don't, just say so. I'll stop." Sipping her Coke again without taking her eyes off him, Mandi seemed to give the matter some thought. After a moment she set the can on the desk and went to the door. "Ready?" she asked. Cade nodded and went to the door, opening it to check the hallway. Seeing nobody in the corridor, he nodded again and waved her past him. Mandi swept past him in a flash. Her blur of motion turned hard right just outside the doorway and disappeared. Cade peeked out in time to see her slash her keycard through her room's door lock, then disappear again. 'Yeah, she's definitely quick,' he thought, opening the door to his room fully and standing well clear of it as he mentally counted 'One... two... three...' A rush of air passed him with the blur that was Mandi. She set three suitcases and a cloth bag on the floor by the bed and disappeared. Cade held his position and counted again. "...Four," said Cade as Mandi again blasted into the room. "Four what?" she asked. "Seconds. There and back, that is. The lock must have slowed you down on the first trip." Grinning at him, Mandi opened one of her suitcases on the bed and took out a terrycloth bathrobe, which she laid to one side as she continued rooting through the bag. Cade closed the door and came to stand near her as she produced a container of shampoo made to look like a miniature champagne bottle and handed it to Cade. After studying the faux-vineyard label, Cade handed it back with a shrug and, "Yes'm. That's very nice." "Not what you were expecting, was it?" asked Mandi. "I wasn't expecting anything. I just came over here to see if you'd pull anything interesting out of that bag." "Interesting? In what way?" Shrugging again, Cade said, "Just interesting. No way in particular," and headed for the bathroom to make a coffee. As he primed his travel mug with instant coffee and waited for the sink water to run hot enough, Mandi said, "You don't exactly seem absolutely thrilled about me being here." With a short laugh, Cade looked at her in the wall mirror and shook his head unbelievingly. "What?" asked Mandi. "You don't." Giving her another long look as he stirred his coffee, Cade grinningly said, "I'm minding my manners, that's all. There's a beautiful woman in my hotel room and I don't want to say or do anything that will make her leave in a huff." Mandi gave him a skeptical look, then zipped her suitcase shut and set it on the floor. Picking up the shampoo and the folded robe, she took them to the bathroom alcove and set them on the counter, then turned to Cade. "Say or do what, exactly, Ed? We talked about certain things in the bar, didn't we?" Nodding, he said, "We talked, but that's all. I don't remember being specifically invited to do anything." With a somewhat incredulous gaze, Mandi softly repeated, "' Specifically invited..?' " "Yup. We discussed. We inferred. That's all. Men and women don't communicate all that well sometimes, Mandi. A long time ago I discussed and inferred like that with another woman, a friend of my sister's. It turned out that she'd just been talking about some of her thoughts and feelings about sex with someone she'd thought had understood that we'd just been talking. When I acted on what I thought she'd meant, she gave me one of those 'hurt puppy' looks and started crying and bitching about how all men were such jerks. Ever since, I've made sure to be sure." With a narrow gaze, Mandi asked, "What do you mean by 'acted on', Ed?" Sipping some coffee, Cade said, "I just made advances. I didn't throw her over my shoulder and head for the bedroom." After a moment of studying him, Mandi asked, "What kind of advances?" Setting his coffee down, Cade quietly asked, "Should I simply answer that question, or should I demonstrate?" Her gaze still narrow, but now because she suspected Cade was teasing her, Mandi said, "Try demonstrating." Smiling as he said a firm, "Yes, milady," Cade stepped forward and took Mandi in his arms as she, in turn, embraced him. Kissing her softly, he took his time about letting his lips brushingly caress hers, then made the kiss become a firm connection for some moments. When the kiss ended, he continued to hold her as he whispered in her ear, "That's all I did, ma'am. I'm kind of hoping you'll handle it better than she did." As Mandi chuckled softly, Cade punctuated the whisper with another brushing kiss on Mandi's cheek and grinningly asked, "Do I have to let you go now, or could we stay like this a while?" Looking up at him, Mandi asked, "You realize what time it is, don't you?" "It's about ten to one, but we don't have to be anywhere until the con opens tomorrow. Not even then, really, unless someone calls a briefing on a Saturday morning." "Are you willing to chance that on only a few hours of sleep? You've had a long day, Ed, and as far as I know, I'll be here tomorrow night, too." Cade cocked his head slightly as he looked at her. "Ah, but what if you aren't here tomorrow night for some reason? Mandi, I've been up too late a few times before and survived early briefings." He paused and kissed her again before emphatically adding, "And tonight I'm with a superwoman who may as well be a goddess. Hell , yes, I'll take a chance like that! Want some help in the shower? Not to brag, of course, but I'm considered something of a lay expert in matters of gynocentric eudemonics." Mandi pulled back a bit and eyed Cade for a moment, then asked, "You do know some unusual words, don't you?" "Yes'm. And since you aren't asking me what 'eudemonics' means, so do you. Probably all of them, I figure." She nodded slightly and smilingly said, "My education was very thorough. So you're a 'lay' expert, huh?" "Well, a rather advanced student at the very least, ma'am." "Uh, huh. I only have your word for that, so you must realize I'm going to have to make you prove it. I hope you don't mind my blatant skepticism, sir." With a dismissive shrug, Cade said, "Oh, of course not, milady. I completely understand. Some things are just too important to be left unverified." Chapter Fourteen 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. When he woke a little after nine, he was alone in the bed. After ablutions and making a cup of instant coffee, Cade called the ops room to see if Mandi was due back anytime soon. They either didn't know or couldn't say. He asked to be notified when she returned. Cade tore the relevant pages out of his convention schedule and circled those events he'd attend. He then wrote, 'I'll be at one of these' on hotel stationery, used his knife to slice a line in the paper and inserted the rolled-up schedule pages in the slot, and finished his coffee before leaving to find some breakfast. At the front desk, he told the clerk to allow Mandi access to his room, then crossed the lobby to the restaurant. The smell of food hit him hard for some reason. Cade chose from the menu cautiously, not wanting to order more than he could eat, but he nonetheless ended up ordering a whole second breakfast platter when the first one didn't seem to do the job. As he was finishing up the second platter, Cade's cell phone buzzed and he answered it with, "Cade here." "Hey, ol' buddy," said Frank Stearns, "I hear you had some special female company last night. I'm kind of surprised you're up and around at all this morning." 'Ol' buddy, huh?' thought Cade, 'Shields up.' He asked, "Are you in the ops room, Frank?" "Huh? No. Why?" "Do you know if Mandi's back yet?" "Back? What do you mean 'back'? What'd she do, run out on you? Didn't you tickle her fancy?" With a sigh, Cade asked, "Frank, why the hell did you call me?" Frank Stearns laughed and said, "I just wanted to hear your version of things. How'd it go last night, stud ?" In a flat tone, Cade said, "Sorry to disappoint you, Frank." Cade let Stearns hear him sigh again and thumbed the off button as he reached for his coffee. As he took a sip, Cade again recalled scenes from the shower and the way that scent of wildflower and honey had seemingly taken over his mind. Pheromones? He couldn't remember reading anything about pheromones having any particular smell, but Mandi wasn't exactly a Jane Average woman, either. Just a brief remembrance of that scent and its effect was enough to cause that effect to occur again. Cade ordered another coffee so he'd have an excuse to remain seated until that effect died down a bit. A rather tall woman at another table noticed his discomfort and pinked slightly when Cade had to reach to adjust himself. She was wearing a barbarian princess sort of outfit that showed a lot of skin and Cade wondered if she thought his discomfort was her fault. His gaze fell to her long legs and he shrugged mentally as he eyed her thighs. Yeah. She had pretty good legs. Sure. It could happen, given the right -- and somewhat closer -- circumstances. The woman's pink became a bit deeper and she turned away nervously. That made Cade chuckle. Why the hell do women wear sexy, skimpy costumes like those if they can't handle the results? Big duh, lady. You have good legs. Men look at exposed female skin. Grow up and deal with it. Whups. Wait one. He peered more closely at the rest of her for a moment. She looked a little familiar... Got it. Add some Klingon makeup and an outfit made of leather, metal stuff, and patches of motorcycle tires. She was the attitude-woman from the dealer's room. But she was at a table with three other women and no men. Where was her Mr. Klingon this morning? Cade decided it didn't matter a damn where Mr. Klingon was, but he stopped eyeballing her legs so his system would relax enough that he could leave the restaurant in time to get to the eleven o'clock writer's panel. A few minutes later he was able to down the last of his coffee and head for the escalators. As he was descending, Cade heard a soft swear word as something ripped behind him. He turned to find a woman kneeling to try to pick up the contents of her purse. The seam of her tight skirt had opened all the way up to her ass and she was scrabbling to pick stuff up before the escalator step reached the bottom. Cade helped her, of course, and they succeeded, then they stepped to one side of the escalator and he held her purse and stuff as she tried to do something about her skirt. "It's too tight," said Cade. "It'll just open up again. Might as well say to hell with it and change when you get a chance." She froze, then gaped irritatedly at him. "Are you saying I'm fat?" Cade eyed her ample bosom and the fullness of her thigh -- not an excessive fullness at all -- and shook his head. "Nope. I said exactly what I meant. That skirt's too tight. It probably won't stay fixed." Her irritated gaze became a glare. "What the hell do you know..?" Shoving her purse and stuff at her, Cade interrupted her impending rant with, "Yeah, right. Forget it, lady. Here. Have fun trying to hold yourself together," and walked away. The writer's panel covered nothing that hadn't been covered before. Cade's main reason for not leaving was that Mandi might come looking for him and it was one of the places he'd circled on the schedule page he'd left for her. With three hours to kill before the next panel, Cade went back to his room by way of the ops room. Mandi hadn't returned, but he learned that his laptop had been marked for return to him, so he retrieved it and used his room's phone line to check email and surf the net a bit. He'd found next to nothing about superwomen the day before. Now there were dozens of sites. All of them had essentially the same pictures -- cuts from the news and scans of the flyer Mandi had handed out -- but a few had pictures from the car-juggling event and the parking lot afterward. He turned off his laptop and put it in his backpack. Mandi's luggage was still in his room, but there was nothing about her that he wanted or needed to know so badly that it would justify opening her bags. Cade made himself a coffee and flopped on the bed to see what was in the day's news. Quite a bit of it on several channels was nothing more than a recap of yesterday's events and repeated reruns of the video footage. Scanning up the channels, Cade found an old movie and half-watched it as his mind chewed through the previous day's events the way he'd lived them and survived some of them. But his mind kept returning to Mandi. Her face, hair, shoulders, legs... the sound of her voice... her smile... He realized that some of what he was feeling and thinking came from her natural attractiveness and having spent the day and most of the night with her, but it seemed to Cade that he was feeling quite a bit more than he should for so short a time together. That led him to wonder why, which somehow led him back to her wildflower and honey scent. Cade got up and went to the bathroom, but the maid had already cleaned the room and taken Mandi's towel. No matter; the scent was still etched in his mind. 'Etched.' he thought, returning to the bed. 'Yeah, that was a word for it. Unforgettable was another. Too much so?' Could there be something about her scent that... well, that was as 'super' as the rest of her? That maybe had left some kind of indelible chemical mark on his brain? With a chuckle, he caught himself and changed course. If it had left such a mark on him, was it necessarily a bad thing? It would conjure explicit memories of her. Cade's mind flashed on Mandi's exquisite legs and lovely face and he decided that he could definitely live with that sort of a mark on his brain. Unless Mandi -- or her scent, or whatever else about her -- created disruptions of some sort, no biggie. That was essentially his last conscious thought as sleep again overtook him. Chapter Fifteen Cade woke to the sounds of a phone ringing and pounding on a door, groggy as hell and thoroughly disoriented. His watch read almost six o'clock. When he tried to stand to go to the door, he staggered and fell back on the bed. Dizzy as hell, too, and weak as a kitten. He made another effort to stand up and headed for the door again. When he turned the handle, John and a guy from Phil's team seemed startled to see him, then John rushed forward and steered Cade back into the room. The other guy closed the door and followed. John sat Cade down in the chair by the desk as the other guy answered the phone and said, "Yeah. He's here. I think he might be sick, though. Yeah. Okay." Turning to John, the guy said, "Doc Crandall's got the duty today. Do we need him?" Glancing up, John said, "Don't know yet. Stand by." Facing Cade, he asked, "Cade, what's wrong with you?" With a terse shake of his head, Cade said, "Just woke up, that's all." "You look as if you've just climbed out of your grave." Looking up, Cade said, "Well, gee, thanks." The guy on the phone snorted a laugh as John studied Cade's face rather critically. "I'm okay, John," insisted Cade, "Just tired, I guess." "Just like that, you got tired?" Shrugging, Cade said, "Guess so. You know I was up late." Checking his watch, John said, "Well, then, you've got most of an hour to get to the ops room. Tonight's Mandi show starts at eight and we want everybody in place ahead of time." "She's back?" "Yeah. She's going over a few things with Phyllis." Nodding, Cade said, "Okay. Half an hour. Got it." "You sure you're okay?" Sighing, Cade stood up, spread his arms, and said, "Hey, I'm up and I'm dressed. I'll be there." Once he was alone, Cade made himself a wakeup coffee and downed most of it on the spot. A look in the mirror confirmed John's appraisal; Cade looked as if he'd risen from a sickbed. He felt that way, too; dog-tired and faintly trembling, he turned on the shower and shed his clothes. The shower seemed to help a bit. Cade leaned against the wall and did several fast pushups under the spray to get his blood moving a bit faster. As he turned to face the spray he used some of it to rinse the staleness out of his mouth and discovered an intense thirst. After drinking what seemed like a gallon of water, the thirst eased somewhat and Cade finished washing up. His coffee seemed to beckon to him as he dried himself. Cade slugged down what was left of the stuff and made a fresh cup, then went to get dressed. Before he had his shirt buttoned, the new cup of coffee was gone and he craved more. "What the hell..?" he muttered, realizing that he'd felt the same way about the water in the shower. Glancing at his watch, he realized he might not have time for any sort of dinner, which was all it took to make him feel ravenously hungry. He went to his backpack and took out one of the two big cans of chicken soup and a P-38 military-issue can opener that he kept in the bottom compartment. One can wasn't enough. Not even close. A few minutes later both cans were empty and Cade didn't feel as if he'd made much of a dent in his hunger. Someone knocked on his door and Cade went to open it. A guy in a hotel jacket said, "Room service," and wheeled a cart into the room. "I didn't order room service." "No, sir. A woman placed the order." Holding up a ticket, the bellhop showed it to Cade and said, "It's already paid for, sir; charged to another room, but to be delivered here." By this time the smell of a steak dinner had wafted up from the cart and Cade suddenly didn't give a damn who'd sent it or why. He took the ticket and tossed it on the cart as he reached into his pocket for a tip. "Yeah, great, thanks," he said quickly, tipping the guy and reaching for the cover on the oversized center platter. When he lifted the cover, Cade found not one steak, but three, and they weren't the usual ten-dollar restaurant servings. These were big slabs of meat surrounded by potatoes, carrots, green beans, and more. Beside the tray lay only one set of silverware wrapped in a hotel napkin. Cade's cellphone rang and he went to the desk for it. Thumbing it on, he said, "Cade." With a chuckle, Mandi asked, "Has your dinner arrived yet?" "Just now, but they may have screwed up downstairs. There's enough food here for three people, but there's only one set of silverware and no plates." Chuckling again, Mandi said, "No, they didn't screw up. I knew you'd wake up hungry, so I sent up a fairly standard conversion meal. I need another fifteen here before I can get loose. Save me a few bites, will you?" "Mandi, what's a conversion and...?" She interrupted him with, "Oops, gotta go. I'll tell you all about it later, okay? Bye!" Realizing she was no longer online, Cade thumbed his phone off and said, "Yeah. Right. Bye," as he set it back on the desk. Conversion? What the hell..? The smell of the food was almost overpowering. Cade decided he could wonder about things as he ate and headed for the food cart. Most of the way through the vegetables and the second of the huge steaks, he paused to set aside about a regular meal's worth of food, then continued eating. When nothing was left but the food he'd set aside, Cade took the knife and fork to the sink to wash them and put them by the tray, then put the lid back on it and went to brush his teeth and comb his hair. The vague trembling had left him and he felt a lot better, but Cade still felt a bit disoriented and confused. Between the soup and the steaks he'd put away enough food for half a dozen people, but he didn't feel as if he'd had more than an average meal. In fact, just thinking about that last bit of steak in the other room made him wonder if Mandi could make do with an apology and a late dinner after her show. The room's hallway door opened and Mandi said, "Thanks for remembering to tell the desk to give me a room card." Moving to join her in the main room, Cade asked, "After last night, how could I forget?" Indicating the covered tray, he said, "I saved you some dinner, as requested. Are you going to tell me what you've done to me?" Trying to look shocked and hurt, Mandi asked, "What? No hello kiss? Don't you want to hear about my day?" Cade took her in his arms for a kiss, then said, "Of course, milady. Tell me all about your day, but tell me later. Right now I want to know what's happening to me." Mandi shrugged and said, "You're changing. It's nothing to worry about, but the conversion takes a lot of energy and mass. That's why you were so hungry." "I'm still hungry. Your dinner almost disappeared." Smiling, she said, "But now the hunger's more manageable and you can get by until after the show. Right?" She stood by the cart as she sliced the steak and vegetables into bite sized chunks and sprinkled salt and pepper here and there to her liking. Unable to remember ever having read or heard anything about people changing due to association with Mandi, Cade asked, "Just what kind of change are we talking about?" Without looking up from her efforts, Mandi said, "You're going to become sort of like me." With a deliberately noisy sigh at her seeming inability to release any details, Cade replied, "Not blonde and stacked, I hope. That could take a helluva lot of getting used to at this point in my life, you know. Could you be maybe just a little more specific, Mandi?" Glancing up with another chuckle and smile, Mandi said, "Nothing quite that outrageous. You're being upgraded, that's all. You'll be bulletproof or close to it. Stronger. Faster. Like that. Don't worry, you won't need a new wardrobe, as much as that may actually be a good idea." Her grinning gaze traveled from his boots to his shirt as he said, "I'm going to let your sartorial commentary pass. What did you do to me to make this -- change --happen?" Chuckling around some potato, Mandi said, "I didn't do anything to you. You did it to me." Sticking her tongue out at him and waggling it, she pulled it back in and said, "Like that." Sitting on the end of the bed, Cade watched her fork up another bit of steak as he tried to figure out what the hell she was telling him. Like what? Was she saying she'd given him some kind of disease? All he'd done was lick her silly in the shower. How could doing that..? He felt like checking his tongue in the bathroom mirror. "Are you about ready to go?" asked Mandi. Looking up, Cade saw the food was gone. Mandi stood up and pushed the cart toward the door. Cade slipped into his shoulder rig, grabbed his cellphone, and put on his jacket. "Yeah, ready," he said. "I'd still like to know..." Mandi walked back and kissed Cade to silence him. "Later," she said, "After the show," and she led him by the hand toward the hallway door as she added, "Just be careful when you handle things tonight. You'll be a little stronger than you're used to, so avoid handling people in particular." "Stronger. Right. Oh, hell, Mandi; on-the-job is the worst possible time to have to learn new tricks or adjust to anything. How much stronger are we talking about?" She opened the door and pushed the cart into the hall without releasing Cade's hand, which meant that he followed when he might have stopped to ask more questions. Cade was thinking in human terms, which didn't prepare him at all to hear, "If you follow the norm, by ten or so you'll be able to bench press a couple of tons, give or take." "Tons?! The norm?! There's a norm?! " Putting the cart against the wall, Mandi gave him a quick kiss and grinningly said, "Yeah, there's a norm." With a chuckle she asked, "Gee, mister, did you think you were my very first?" Laughing, she hauled him toward the elevators. John came out of the ops room and waved, said something to someone in the room, then moved to join them. "John doesn't know," whispered Mandi, releasing Cade's hand, "And he doesn't need to know. No more questions for now, okay?" Meeting her intent gaze for a moment, Cade nodded slightly as John caught up to them. John handed him a 'staff' convention badge and a tiny radio with an earpiece and a lapel mike, then they began walking again. "We're all set," said John. "Frank called a friend and rented some blondes to fill out the..." At Mandi's sharp glance he hastily explained, "They're actors, Mandi. Frank's friend is in the talent business. He called one of the union reps here." They reached the elevators and Cade pressed the call button as Mandi said, "Knowing Frank, that isn't terribly reassuring." John laughed and agreed with her, then continued, "Yeah, but we wanted a full stage. They don't look like hookers, so even if that's what some of them are, they'll do. There'll be about twenty other spur-of-the-moment contestants unless they've added some since six o'clock." Cade asked, "How did you come up with uniforms?" "The superstore near Ft. McPherson. White bathing suits, boots and blue spray paint, red fabric, and gloves. Phyllis and agent Vocce took the girls to room 439, said that making their own uniforms was part of the job, and put them to work. One of them started to object, but the one who brought her kid along said that sewing and painting for a few minutes would beat the hell out of waiting tables tonight. They all stayed." "Waiting tables?" asked Cade, "That one doesn't sound like a hooker. She brought her kid? Couldn't find a babysitter?" Nodding, John said, "You got it. No problem, though. The convention has a babysitting room so parents can attend panels and the like without disrupting them. All we had to do was get her a day pass to the con." The elevator arrived and they suspended the conversation until they arrived at lower lobby two and debarked. As they threaded their way through the crowd toward the ballroom where costume contests were held, Cade spotted the Brooklyn Klingon woman yet again. She carried a blonde wig and seemed in a hurry. "That's Chandra," said John. "When she saw us bringing in a vanload of blondes, she got curious. We put her on the payroll for this event to keep her quiet." "This is where I get off," said Mandi, pointing at a side door. "See you later, guys." As Mandi headed for the door, John said, "She'll put on one of our homespun uniforms and join the other contestants after Phyllis fixes her face." Cade gave John the fisheye and asked, "There's no way she can win, is there?" Shaking his head, John smilingly said, "Sorry, but no. The best she can hope for is third or fourth." "Have the judges already picked the winner?" Again shaking his head, John said, "No, just one loser in particular. We didn't see any need to fix things past that." "What's the prize?" "There are three. First is five hundred bucks, a free pass to next year's convention, and some publicity. Second prize is a free pass and two-fifty. Third is one-fifty and a free pass." He shrugged and added, "And our actors are getting a hundred bucks each, win or lose." Stopping by the second set of ballroom doors, John said, "This is your station." He grinned and added, "Since you slept through the regular briefing, here's your update, Cade. We're here to watch for bad guys." "Ha, ha," Cade said flatly as he put on the 'staff' badge and installed his radio gear. "I'll catch 'em for you, but you have to clean 'em." "Fair enough. We have people at the hallway doors upstairs, so anyone who shows up in this lobby is a bogey until proven otherwise. Carter'll let you know if she sees anything on her screens. All set?" "All set." Nodding, John said, "Later, Cade." Returning his nod, Cade said, "Later, John." Chapter Sixteen 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." Chapter Seventeen Mandi didn't particularly like the man she'd met in Washington, but the President was the only one who could quietly approve a fairly large clandestine expenditure. It was one thing to select and convert people, but it was quite another to provide them a base of operations, communications, training, equipment, and all the other logistical necessities. He'd easily understood the urgency of getting the program underway, but he'd balked when Mandi -- well aware that their conversation was likely being recorded -- avoided discussion of her method of converting regular people to superpeople. Leaning back in his chair, he'd asked, "Why can't we just convert one of our Ranger units, ma'am? Wouldn't that be a lot simpler and faster than hand-picking and having to train every single... what do we call them? Convertees?" "Close enough," said Mandi. "Not everybody can be converted. Some people simply aren't suitable for the process." "You're saying it won't work on everybody?" To avoid saying that she simply wouldn't accept everybody, Mandi said, "Some of the money would go to pre-conversion evaluations. Training would eat most of the rest of it." "What kind of training?" "Imagine that you instantly became ten times as strong as you'd ever been. Could you immediately shake hands with someone? Hold a child? Could you take a step and not leap fifty feet? Could you even hold a coffee cup without breaking it? It takes time and training to adjust safely." Their discussion had lasted almost an hour, at the end of which time he'd promised her five million and the use of a decommissioned underground missile facility in Nevada. "If your program shows promise in six months," he said, "You'll get more money. I'm basically giving you this first five million for all you've done since you've been here." Five million. It was a quarter of what she'd asked for and almost exactly what she'd expected. Concealing a grin, Mandi grimaced slightly, sighed, and said, "Well, if it's the best you can do..." The man held up a hand and said, "I"m sorry, but it is. For now, anyway. Give me results that I can show the other party when they start interrogating me about why I gave you money, ma'am. We'll take it from there when the time comes." Thinking about the meeting as she flew back to Atlanta, Mandi had to admit that he'd been a bit more reasonable than she'd anticipated. The meeting had been a test of sorts, of course, for both participants. She'd made it known through John's NIA offices that she'd wanted a private word with the President. Known to be something of a Bible-thumper who didn't really approve of Mandi's costume or the fact that she professed no interest in religion at all, the President had nonetheless managed to clear an hour for her on a few day's notice and he'd listened to her pitch. In Mandi's opinion, that had proven him at least to be tractable and reasonable enough to work with, even if he wasn't really very likeable. Mandi had been able to appear in the Oval Office less than ten minutes after the President's secretary had called John. That had impressed the living hell out of the President, but he'd carefully avoided letting her know that. She'd simply flown into the White House as someone had used a service entrance. It had been that simple. Exterior sensors had sounded an 'approaching object' alert, but Mandi had been over the fence and across the grounds before the sensors had understood what they were seeing. Other sensors within the building had also detected her, but far too late to be of any use in stopping her. Mandi had flown to the doors of the Oval Office and knocked firmly as she'd said hello to his personal secretary. The secretary had seen Mandi seemingly appear out of nowhere to float to a stop in front of the doors, then she'd felt a blast of breeze from Mandi's passage down the corridor. Security personnel scrambled to surround Mandi almost instantly. They ran toward her in the hall and two popped out of hidden passageways, guns drawn and faces stern. One even yelled, "Freeze!" "I have an appointment," said Mandi, then she turned to the secretary and asked, "Would you tell the President that Mandi Steele is here? He's expecting me." Only one man -- a male secretary -- asked why Mandi hadn't presented herself at the front gate. The other four men and two women present were with the Secret Service, and they already knew the answer. One of them rather brusquely told the secretary to get back to work. The guy pouted a bit as he left, then he asked the same question of the President's secretary in a hurt tone. She gave him a roll of her eyes and said, "Think about it, dummy. She wants something or she wouldn't be here at all. This was just a grand entrance to let POTUS know she's nobody to take lightly or mess with in the slightest way." Stiffening at her words, the guy stalked away muttering, "She's not even a U.S. citizen. I'll bet she doesn't even have a goddamned green card." Perhaps two minutes passed before the electronic locks built into the doors of the Oval Office snapped off and the President opened the doors to greet Mandi with a handshake. "Sorry about all the fuss," he said. "Come on in, ma'am." Yes, he'd put on a show of being pleasant enough, but his calm had been an act right up until their very last moment together, and his gaze had too often been focused on her upper anatomy instead of her eyes during their conversation. Mandi landed on the hotel roof and changed, then slipped into the hotel and went to her room, where she ordered a triple steak dinner to feed Cade's conversion before she checked in with John about the look-alike contest. As she waited for John to finish a conversation, she heard three of the other agents discussing the previous day's events and Ed Cade's name came up. "That cop Avery was stunned," said one guy. "He actually used the word 'stunned'. He said Cade popped that guy twice before he could get his gun out. Said he only barely had his own gun out when the guy went through the window." The woman snickered and said, "I'll bet he was gonna yell 'freeze!' or something like that. He'd have been dead meat." "Yeah, but some hindsight-quarterbacks with the PD are asking if Cade shot before he'd validated his target." "No-fucking-way," said the woman. "Cade's never called it bad yet and he had over twenty kills on the books before he retired. If he'd screwed up even once, some political buttmonkey would have been all over it in a flash." 'Twenty kills?' thought Mandi. She turned to face the woman and asked, "Twenty kills? How many arrests?" The three agents blinked at her for a moment, then the woman looked at one of the guys and asked, "Two, is it? The kids he busted for car theft in Miami six years ago?" Nodding, the guy said, "Yeah. Sounds right. I've never heard of any others." "Car theft?" asked Mandi, "Was he working with the police?" The woman shook her head. "No, he just happened to walk out of a building while two kids were trying to jack a Mercedes. One of them pulled a knife on him, so he showed them the antique .45 he carried when he wasn't on duty and turned them over to the cops." "I see. So he's never taken any prisoners when he's been doing agency work?" The guy shrugged and said, "If he has, I've never heard about them." "Wait a minute, Jerry," said the woman, "I think she's getting the wrong idea, here. Ma'am, Cade's no 'Dirty Harry'; he just seems to have an absolute knack for being right where the shit hits the fan. To the best of my knowledge, he's never had a really decent opportunity to take a prisoner, you know what I mean? When it goes down, you do what you have to and hope you're making the best decision." "Still... You really think that not one of those twenty kills could have been arrested instead?" "Maybe," said the guy, "If they'd have run out of ammo or volunteered to stop shooting. In the only case I know about personally -- I was there -- the guy went down shooting at us with an AK. Didn't stop firing until he ran the clip dry. By then Cade had returned fire and put four rounds in him. It was a clean shoot, ma'am. The guy died pulling the trigger. As far as I know, all his kills have been like that. Nasty to the end." "One thing, ma'am," said the woman, "Cade doesn't shoot to wound or incapacitate. If he shoots at all, he shoots to kill. That's what some of the flak's been about in his records, but the fact is, we all do the same thing. This outfit doesn't deal with muggers and burglars. We mostly get the diehards and psychos. At our end of things, if you pop a guy in the leg and yell 'drop the gun', chances are real good he'll kill you when he goes down shooting." The guy beside her chuckled and said, "Cade's just been in a lot of wrong places at wrong times. Like Cindy said, he always had a real talent for that." Mandi chatted with them about some of the things they'd been through to try to get a perspective on Cade's agency performance, but by the time she'd been called into John's anteroom office, she'd begun to have some misgivings about having converted Cade. It had occurred to Mandi to wonder how Cade would handle being converted without consultation, but not for long. He seemed to be exactly the kind of man Mandi wanted on her team; capable, determined, outside the reaches of political parties and religions, and able to both teach and learn. He was a little long in the tooth, but that didn't seem to make any difference concerning his effectiveness. And -- his profession as an armed spook aside -- he seemed a warm, giving person, not just another of those 'I am my job'-types. Cade's reaction when she dropped by his room seemed to validate all her immediate gut feelings about him. He'd simply grabbed his gear and said that 'on-the-job is the worst possible time to have to learn new tricks' . Mandi had almost laughed at that. Almost. He was right, of course, but she didn't have the luxury of time. As soon as the convention job ended, she had to return to Las Vegas. But still... Twenty kills and no arrests? Had she read him wrong, despite her training and genetic predispositions? After signing in for the look-alike contest, she'd been led to a dressing room with the twenty-six other women and had put on the rather crude replica of her costume. When all the women had been paraded past the audience and judges, they waited in the wings for the results. That's where she was when she saw John suddenly head for the doors. Looking through the walls, she saw agent Pierce holding a man down and agents Evans and Bartow on the floor as a man hurtled toward Cade with a weapon. Mandi almost abandoned the contest to go to his aid, but the situation unfolded too quickly. In a bit less than eight seconds the attacker was unconscious and dying fast and Cade was again on his feet, talking into his lapel mike. When Carter picked up the attacker's weapon and asked if Cade was okay, he shruggingly replied that he could use a coffee. Was that just a bit of bravado for Carter? For several long-seeming moments more Mandi watched Cade after he'd resumed his post in front of the doors. He showed no outward signs of aftermath anxiety; his heartbeat and respiration returned to normal inside three minutes as he stood calmly in a loose parade-rest stance. Had she been mistaken about him, after all? Had his soft side only been a facade for her benefit? John appeared and dismissed Cade, who headed for the escalators as John returned to the ballroom. Mandi's contest alias -- Jane Blaise -- was softly called by the woman emcee, who was working from a list. She said that there would be photo opportunities after the show with a local modeling agency for any who wished to participate. Prizes were awarded and the contest ended, then Mandi and most of the others were led offstage. At the photo booth, Mandi/Jane grinningly explained that her participation had been a spur-of-the-moment thing brought about by the offer of a costume for the occasion. She said that she had no interest in modeling and signed 'Jane Blaise' on a release form for pictures taken during the contest. John was waiting for her as she left the dressing room. "Only sixth place, huh?" he asked with a grin. "Too bad. You really do sort of look like her, you know." She returned his grin with, "So they tell me." Glancing around to see there was nobody near, she asked, "Can you spare a minute? It's about Cade." Stiffening slightly, John asked, "Cade? What about him?" "How well do you know him?" Giving her a studious look, John said, "We go back a long way, Mandi. The seventies in Europe. The Cold War. He was with a different agency back then. So was I, for that matter..." "That's the job, John. How well do you really know him?" "Well, I'd trust him with my life or anyone else's. Does that answer your question?" With a trace of hesitation, Mandi said, "Almost. What do you think of his ability to recover almost instantly after something like what just happened? Do you think that's normal?" John stopped and leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed and a thoughtful look on his face. "It is for Cade," he said. "Why all the questions, Mandi? Has he done anything or said anything to you that..?" Shaking her head, Mandi hurriedly said, "No, nothing like that. He's been a perfect gentleman around me. To me. No problems there. But I watched him kill that man in the lobby, John. A few minutes later his system was completely back to normal, as if nothing had happened." Grinning, John said, "Oh, I wouldn't say that..." "I would," she cut in. "His heartbeat was seventy-six. Respiration normal. How? Why?" With a sense of being pinned like a bug, John answered, "That's just Cade, Mandi. Always has been, as far as I know. Years ago I asked him the same questions you're asking me. He told me that it's as if someone else takes over for a little while. The psychs call it disassociation." At Mandi's peering gaze, John's arms uncrossed in a gesture of protest and he said, "Don't get me wrong. Cade's not crazy, Mandi. He's fifty-three, for God's sake. If he was going to go nuts he'd have done it before now. Jesus, you ought to hear some of the things he's been through." " Great idea, John. When can I see his records?" John's eyes got somewhat larger as he said, "Uh, well..." Mandi put a finger on his chest that felt like a steel rod and said, "No. Don't say 'uh, well' . Just say when I can see them." Gathering himself against her imposing presence, John said, "Mandi, before I say 'when', I have to ask 'why'." Letting her finger drop from his chest, Mandi said, "I wanted him for my project. I was going to talk to you about it, but now I have some doubts about him." "Uh, isn't he kind of old for what you have in mind?" Thumbing toward the lobby, she asked, "You can ask that after what happened out there? That guy was half Cade's age." She shrugged and added, "Besides, he calls himself semi-retired and he joined this op without a second thought, didn't he? Do you really think he'd turn me down?" With a wry grin and a sigh, John shook his head. "No. There's not a chance in hell of that, once you tell him what it's about. Okay. You'll see his records." "When?" "Is now good? He'll be filling out reports in the ops room, so we can use the computer in my room." Mandi nodded and said, "Thanks, John. I wouldn't ask if I didn't need to know." They headed up to the fourth floor and John pulled up Cade's records on his computer. "This isn't everything," he said, "But it ought to be enough for now. If you aren't satisfied with these, you can see his complete file on Monday." Mandi thanked him and began reading as John lay down with a damp towel over his face and dozed. Fifteen minutes later Mandi slid her chair back and stood up. John pulled the towel off his face and looked at her. "Well?" he asked. "You never mentioned that he'd been a mercenary, John." "You didn't ask." Indicating the computer with a nod, he asked, "How do you feel about him after reading all that?" Glancing at the computer screen, she said, "I'll still want to see his full file on Monday. There are a lot of variables." "If you'll swing by the office, I'll arrange it." John started to get up, but Mandi raised a hand and said, "No, stay put. I can find the door. Thanks, John." "Only for you, ma'am," he said, putting the towel back over his eyes as he chuckled and repeated, "Only for you." Chapter Eighteen 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."