To Dance With the Devil
Page 46He extended his hand to Talia. “I’m afraid I didn’t give Celia a chance to introduce us. I’m John Creede.”
“Talia Han. And I’ve used similar rifles in the service. I’ve got the marksmanship medals to prove it.” I wanted to grin; having Talia continue my theme did wonders for my sense of humor.
But I kept a straight face as I wondered if I’d given the rifle to the wrong employee. Then again, Bubba was no fool. If he thought she was a better shot, he’d give her the weapon.
“Celia, do you have a moment?” John asked. “I’d like to speak to you alone.”
I nodded and said, “Guys, hang out here for a minute. I won’t be long.”
“Sure, boss,” Bubba said while Talia agreed with a nod of her own.
John and I walked a few steps away.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I’m working security for today’s little escapade. I want your opinion on what I’ve got planned and any suggestions you have that could help—anything at all.”
I blinked at him a little stupidly. He was asking my opinion. After the way he’d behaved in Mexico, not to mention ten seconds ago, I wouldn’t have expected that in a million years.
He sighed, his expression growing more than a little exasperated. “I said I was sorry. I was wrong to undermine you with the clients like that. It was stupid of me. I do respect your opinion.”
I forced myself to smile a little ruefully back at him. “Sorry. I guess I’m still a bit touchy about it.” Yes, he’d just questioned my abilities not two minutes ago, but calling him on it would just lead to problems and more tension, neither of which was needed at the outset of a big operation. Better to let it go. “Okay. Fine. Now that we have that out of the way…”
When I told him so, he said, “I didn’t get permission. Whoever we’re up against has to be in a position of power or someone would’ve tumbled to the situation before now. If I went through channels, they’d know exactly what we’re planning.”
Oh, crap. He was taking one hell of a risk, then. Seriously, he could get jail time, major jail time, at the Needle. We all could.
“Celia, there’s a good chance I won’t survive to see tomorrow. I’ll deal with the fallout if and when I have to.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. He expected to die. He was even being matter-of-fact about it. I couldn’t be. I love Bruno, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about John. So I swallowed hard and tried not to think too much about the risks he was taking, focusing instead on the plans he’d laid out. “I can’t see any flaws, John.” I really couldn’t. “It might be a little excessive, but hey, better safe than sorry.”
His answer made me wonder if he was reading my mind or if he just knew me too well. “When I heard you were going to be involved, I took what I had originally thought were adequate defenses, tripled them, and prayed for divine intervention.” He grinned, but I could see that he was only partially joking.
“Ha, ha, ha.” I hated that I was dangerous to my friends and allies, that my death curse tended to increase the odds that someone I knew would be hurt or killed.
“Now, what exactly did you have in mind for your dynamic duo back there?” John asked. “I need to know how to fit them into my plans.”
“I want them as close to the center of the action as we can get them. Their only job is going to be to protect the four of you and keep me advised of what’s happening.”
He opened his mouth, as if to protest, question my choice, but I cut him off.
“They’re good people, John. The best. You want them watching your back.”
He sighed. “Fine. Look, we both need to get going.” He smiled for real then, and for a second I thought he was going to kiss me good-bye. But the moment passed. Instead, he said, “Be careful.”
“Good luck!” Bubba called.
“You, too.” We’d all need it.
* * *
My ride was waiting on the opposite end of the tarmac, the cargo door propped open. Same chopper, same pilot. Even similar boxes. Evidently the equipment had all been replaced. Good. But oh, Lord, I was not going to enjoy seeing that bill. Here’s hoping Abby paid up promptly.
Chris stood just inside the open doors. Dawna had looked grim, but Chris was expressionless, a blank slate, wearing desert camo, a sidearm, and an anti-siren charm prominently placed outside his shirt. His manner was one of utter professionalism. Frankly, I was surprised he hadn’t passed the job to someone else, all things considered. Unless the Company didn’t have a lot of medics, which would make it difficult to shift assignments like this one on short notice.
“What are the coordinates for our destination?” Chris asked.
I pulled a slip of paper from my jacket pocket and passed it to him. He took it to Rob, and I took my seat, strapping myself in for the ride without waiting to be told.
Chris came back, closing the cargo door as the chopper’s engines started up. Then he disappeared again into the flight cabin without saying a word.
I was fine with that.
I had to adjust the fit of the little bits of electronic equipment I’d be wearing to keep in touch with Bubba and Talia. Gilda had been the one wearing them last, and she’s a much smaller woman than I am. Still, it took only a couple of seconds to get everything comfortable, and I was able to listen to Creede’s briefing as Rob flew the chopper out to Kevin’s cabin.
“Listen up, people. To work this magic, we need to be where the node comes closest to the surface. So do our enemies. There are limited options and they’re not far apart. It’s very likely we’ll be working very close to the enemy. We’ll keep up a veil as long as we can, but once the node is tapped, the interference is going to take everything down. When that happens, you can expect things to get hairy. Under the cover of the veil, we’ll be building concentric walls of sandbags around the circle where the magic will be worked. Bubba and Talia here, are our last line of defense. Your goal is to make sure they have nothing to do. Once I’m inside the circle, Chuck is in charge.”
“Sorry. I was listening to John Creede. I left some people with him.”
Chris shook his head, a half smile on his face. For just a second a hint of our old friendship surfaced, but then his expression hardened, his eyes going dark. “You’d better go ahead to the house. I know Kevin’s expecting us, but I’d rather not startle him.”
Smart man. Startling a werewolf on the day of the full moon is not a healthy pastime. So I unfastened my safety harness and climbed out of the chopper.
Kevin’s place was on the edge of the desert, near Death Valley. I’d seen pictures when he’d bought the place just after the Needle had been built. The previous owners hadn’t been thrilled with the notion of having the most dangerous criminals in the world living that close to them—even with miles and miles of inhospitable desert between the cabin and the prison—so Kevin had gotten it for a song.
I remembered that when the house had first been built, it had been featured in Mother Earth News as a perfect example of a building designed using recycled tires. The seller had given a copy of the article to Kevin, who had proudly shown us all the photos. The cabin had a stucco surface, with a wide veranda shielding the windows from the sun on the south side. The north side had been built into an earthen berm. There were solar panels on the roof and a windmill elsewhere on the property. It was austere but beautiful, blending seamlessly into the sere beauty of the desert, like a jewel in a brooch. I suspected the place was completely off the grid.
Emma had told me Kevin had made some renovations in the last few years. I’m not sure what I had expected. New bathroom? New appliances? Not this.
The simple fence that had previously surrounded the property had been replaced by a wall that was at least seven feet tall, two to three feet thick, and covered in tan stucco. Access was through a steel gate as tall as the wall and just wide enough to let a single vehicle through. The gate’s controls looked similar to the ones at my place. A sign was attached to the gate, black with yellow block letters: TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT. SURVIVORS WILL BE SHOT AGAIN.
I stood outside the gate and bellowed, “Yo, Kevin! It’s me!” Not the most elegant of greetings, but effective. I saw the edge of one of the curtains flick aside. A moment later, Emma came out of the cabin and approached the gate. She had my Derringer in a holster on her belt and carried one of those big squirt guns with the extra tanks. I had no doubt that the reservoirs were filled with holy water. I also knew that Chris, Rob, and I were going to get a little wet if we wanted to get past Emma. It was the only way she and Kevin could be sure that the three of us were who we claimed to be.
“Em, what are you doing here?”
She sprayed me. When it was clear that I was, indeed, me, she answered. “Kevin was worried that if something went wrong and he needed to hunt before you guys got here, Michelle would be unprotected. So I left Paulie with Dad and came out here as backup.”
I hadn’t realized her dad was back. I was glad. I knew she and Kevin had both missed him badly, and this might just give me a chance to extend an olive branch, see if we could work out our differences. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">