Damian's Assassin

"Really? Wow!"

"They'll come get you."

"Here I thought you were a mind reader or something!" she said.

"Alas, no. I'm just Jerry."

"Are there many of you?"

"Quite a few, and they're pulling in everyone from the east coast to Miami and Orlando. I was working in Georgia 'til this morning. I'm surprised to say the weather was better."

"Yeah, anywhere is probably better than this," she said. She shivered, cold and wet.

"You can go wait in the back if you want. There's a dryer and a stack of towels next to the shower. The BOLO said you're probably running from bad guys. Might do you good to get out of sight," he said, nodding towards the windows.

"Been there, done that," she said, rising. She shivered again, this time out of fear. "Thanks, Jerry."

The break room in the back was small with a table, refrigerator and microwave, a white board listing names and schedules, and a locker room with a shower and washer and dryer. She tugged off her shirt and wrapped it in towels to dry it before tossing it in the dryer. She blotted herself dry and wrapped herself in the towel.

"You should have one of these." The friendly male voice made her jump. She whirled. An older, harmless-looking man with white hair and beautiful emerald eyes stood near the door, holding out a phone. For a moment, she thought she should know him. The sense passed.

"Who are you?" she asked, covering her chest with a folded towel.

"I'm a friend."

"Are you my ride?"

"I brought you something. I assigned everyone a ring tone and put their phone numbers in it," he said, looking somewhat proud.

She gave him a puzzled smile and reached out to take the phone he held out. She selected the address book on the phone. Dusty, Sofia, Darian, Damian, Jule, Jenn, Toni, Jonny, Watcher.

"Watcher?" she asked.

"Yes, that's me."

"That's your name?"

"More like my duty position. Dusty should have given you a means of contacting someone in an emergency," he said with disapproval.

"I doubt he expected the bad guys to find me," she replied.

"The bad guys have someone telling them where to look. It makes a difference," he said. "My email address is in there, too. And you can text me. I'll update your address list virtually over the next few years."

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome. Your ride is almost here. We'll meet again." He disappeared much as Darian did.

She stared in the space he'd occupied and looked at the phone. He'd been so excited about his phone. She typed a message to him.