“
Siddown,
”
he whispered to the new passenger, who pocketed the five and took the seat closest to the front door.
The bus driver fed the big rig enough gas to keep everybody down.
“
That
’
s the handicapped seat,
”
the driver said.
“
Find someplace else.
”
The sweaty guy moved back a row as the bus rolled down the street.
The elderly Latino woman seated opposite the guy slid all the way over to the window, trying to put as much distance as possible between herself and Mr. Sweaty.
Above the rumbling of the diesel, sirens whooped and moaned like a pack of wolves.
A blue and white Pasadena PD cruiser rocketed past the front of the bus, heading west, light bar ablaze, siren screaming.
Behind them, another cruiser slid to a stop in the middle of the street, blocking the intersection.
The passenger checked his pockets again, found the paper napkin and blotted blood from the deep scratch running along his right cheek.
“
You ought to get that face looked at,
”
the driver said, using both hands to wheel the bus around the corner.
“
Thing
’
ll fester iffn you don
’
t take care of it.
”
__
Audrey Williams watched as Jackson Craig finished giving instructions to the Mobile Security Supervisor. At the far end of the block a trio of Secret Service SUVs rolled slowly down the street.
Last to leave was the ambulance carrying Craig’s father Charlie who was on his way to the bureau’s Secure Care Facility in West Hollywood. As far as Pasadena Oaks was concerned, the sooner he left and the further he went the better they liked it. Apparently, in the old folks trade, gunfire was bad for business.
The moment forensics had finished with the scene, two teams of workers had arrived. The first began cleaning up the considerable mess, using a BOBCAT with a miniature front-loader to transfer the mounds of glass to a nearby dumpster. The second team of tradesmen followed closely on the heels of the first. South Pasadena Glass arrived like an invading army, at least a dozen of men in half that many trucks, measuring, cutting and then replacing the shattered glass front of the building one piece at a time. A few minutes ago, they’d towed in several banks of lights, indicating they planned to work deep into the night.
Audrey watched as Jackson Craig turned his back on the street and headed her way. His face was too asymmetrical for Hollywood, where eternal boyishness was coin of the realm. Craig was more in the European mode of leading men, craggy and worldly, all bellicosity and big sad eyes. Very handsome in his own way.
“My name is Jackson Craig,” he said offering his hand.
She took it. His grip was firm and dry.
“Sounds like the new James Bond,” she quipped with a smile.
“Apparently any resemblance ends with the name,” he said disgustedly.
“Audrey Williams.”
“My guardian angel,” he said.
“Your new partner,” she corrected.
“Needless to say, my sister and I are grateful,” Craig said. “Without you…” He let the sentence peter out.
She shrugged. “Right place. Right time.” she said. “Logistics told me where to find you. I figured I’d wait across the street until you were finished with family matters and then introduce myself. About the third time I look up I see this guy crossing the street with a MAC10.” She made a wry face. “The rest, as they say, is history.”
“Without you, my sister and I would have
been
history,” Craig insisted. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you again,” he said with great sincerity. She watched as he pulled back his jacket and deposited his Secret Service ID in the inside pocket.
She nodded at his left hand. “That’s amazing,” she said, shaking her head in wonder. “I had no idea that was possible.”
Craig was momentarily taken aback by her frankness. Most people either failed to notice his hand at all or went to great lengths to pretend they hadn’t. Sometimes to the point of foolishness. But this young woman was right up front about it. He liked her immediately. If he was going to be saddled with a partner, she was probably as good as it was likely to get.
“It looks exactly like the other one.”
“It should,” Jackson Craig said. “It’s a computer generated representation of my right hand, except in reverse. Right down to the hair on the knuckles.”
“And the dexterity…”
Craig rolled the artificial fingers in the manner of a child waving bye bye.
“I’m the poster boy for sensory reinnervation,” he said. Anticipating her confusion, he went on. “They take the amputated nerves and transfer them to skin and muscle tissue. Takes about a year for them to begin to grow into the muscle. Once they regenerate themselves the patient has sufficient nerve impulses to control the myoelectric function of the fingers.”
She stepped in close. Looked down at the hand. “May I?” she asked.
Jackson Craig lifted the prosthesis to waist level. She took it gently in her hands as if holding a wounded bird.
“It’s actually warm,” she said.
“In all ways superior to the original,” Craig said.
“I’m blown away,” she admitted. Her eyes crinkled. “Figuratively speaking, of course,” she joked.
Bomb jokes. Now he really liked her.
“All I’ve got to do is keep my distance from swimming pools.”
“Doesn’t like water?”
“Rain or snow is fine but it doesn’t like being totally immersed. Synaptic response goes all to hell. I look like I’m playing air guitar.”
She had a rich, warm laugh. “We’ll make it a point to keep you dry then.”
Craig’s phone began to buzz in his pant’s pocket. As if to show off his manual dexterity he retrieved it with his artificial hand. He used the articulated thumb to push buttons and then stood for a moment staring at the screen.
“We are officially summoned,” he said.
She reached out and put a hand on his arm. “Hey listen…” she said. “There’s something…something I need to…”
Craig once again pocketed the phone. She was having difficulty spitting out whatever it was she wanted to say. She shifted her weight from foot to foot and then blurted it out. “I can’t figure out why I’ve been assigned to this. It doesn’t make any sense to me.”
Craig held up a single myoelectric finger. “First off, Special Agent Williams don’t ever try to figure out men like Bobby Duggan. They lie for a living. They’re duplicitous beyond your wildest dreams. Any notion that you understand their motives is just flat-out dangerous to yourself and others.”
She nodded that she understood. She watched as an idea crossed his mind.
“What’s your current standing within the organization,” he asked, seemingly out of the blue.
“My…I’m…I’m a Special Agent in Training,” she stammered.
“Not your rank,” he corrected. “Your
standing
. Are you one of their golden children or are you ensconced somewhere among the masses? By now you must know where you stand. They make it pretty damn clear.”
“Black sheep,” Audrey answered immediately. “Definitely black sheep. Not at all sure I’m going to get promoted next month.”
“Of course,” Craig muttered.
“I was getting a dressing down when they offered me this. It was either hook up with you or get reassigned way out in the boonies somewhere.”
“What was your transgression?” he inquired.
She told him all about it.
“Eyesore and earsore. That’s us,” he said with a chuckle.
“Your missing hand and my big mouth.”
“Exactly,” Craig said. “I want to return to regular duty and you’re having trouble remaining anonymous.”
“The only thing that matters is the Browning family,” she said after a moment. “They sound like nice people. They deserve our best efforts.”
“Well then let’s get at it,” Craig said.
He stood in the doorway trying to cope with the mad bustle of the place. The din turned the inside of his head into a fun house.
Sounded like a symphony, played loud, played backwards.
He put his fingers in his ears but the noise blared unabated.
She
’
d cut her hair.
Made her look thinner, he thought. Not better but thinner.
“
How you been?
”
she tried.
“
Tired,
”
he said.
His eyes scanned the place like a searchlight.
“
You okay?
”
He ignored the question.
“
You get it?
”
he asked.
“
As always,
”
she said.
“
One of your numbers has recently taken a little trip,
”
she said nodding at the shopping bag on the floor.
“
Seems to have landed in beautiful Arizona.
”
The look in his eyes scared the hell out of her.
She
’
d seen the look before.
On the Science Channel.
Shark Week.
“
Is there a problem?
”
he asked.
She nodded and leaned in even closer.
“
I
’
m moving,
”
she whispered.
“
Permanently.
Starting over.
Trashing all my equipment and finding a new crib.
”
“
How come?
”
“
The identity source we
’
ve been using is suddenly very hot,
”
she whispered.
“
When I went in this time something was eating up my bandwidth faster than I
’
ve ever experienced before.
It embedded some kind of worm in my software, something I can
’
t identify, something very cutting edge.
”
She nodded at the package again.
“
These are some serious ass people.
”
She checked the room.
“
I
’
m gone for the foreseeable future,
”
she said.
She
’
d expected anxiety, maybe even anger, which was why she
’
d wanted to meet in the most public of places.
A once in a lifetime source gone.
Just like that and he was what?
It was hard to tell.
He seemed something akin to relieved.
She nodded toward the parking lot.
“
I drove straight through from Florida,
”
she said.
“
Everything I own is in the car outside.
”
She frowned.
“
There was code in there I
’
ve never seen before. I
’
d be real careful with any of those names from now on, especially the ones you
’
ve used before.
”
“
Uh-huh?
”
“
It was just a matter of time,
”
she said disgustedly.
“
People like this are in the business.
They
’
re paying attention.
Sooner or later they were bound to catch on. We
’
re lucky to have skated for as long as we have.
”
The good news was that his life had reached a turning point. He could feel it.
He had only a few loose ends to tie up.
After that, he was ready for whatever came next. In the meantime, however, he had to do his duty.
Her voice broke the spell.
“
I
’
m going to take a little vacation and then, after a bit, I
’
ll look for some new sources,
”
she said.
“
Good idea,
”
he offered.
“
Maybe you ought to come on vacation with me.
”
She said it quickly, as if the notion had just occurred to her.
As she
’
d expected it might, the offer seemed to annoy him.
He met her gaze and then quickly looked away, as if angered by her temerity.
“
I
’
ve got a job to do,
”
he said.
“
Sure?
”
she pressed.
“
Gotta do my duty,
”
he said.
“
Come on.
”
“
No.
”
“
You need me… page the emergency number?
”
He nodded and tried to dissipate the awkwardness of the moment by turning away from her.
“
I included topo maps,
”
she said.