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Chapter 16
Maranda as ‘Mrs. Holt’
“I want to thank you for seeing me.”
I noticed when I was here last that I got a lot of attention as a blonde. It was odd actually. There were men in arms that stopped their rounds to glance at me. There were women, who attempted the blonde look themselves, who stopped to glare at me. And I all I did was wear a fake blonde wig.
I decided that I’d downplay the blond look for a few days. I pick a brunette wig that that I had up in a French twist. Again I picked out a short-skirted dress suit. Unfortunately men still gave more attention to the sultry ones and I needed answers.
“No problem at all Mrs. Holt. None at all.” This was about the 5th time he’s given me the ‘once over’. One more time and I might forget the whole thing. Sighing inwardly, I knew that I couldn’t do that. I needed to solve this before next Saturday.
“So what can I do to help you, little lady.” He had a smooth Texan accent and a jerky Texan attitude.
He made it clear when I came in that I was nothing more than a pretty, feather-brained girl who knew nothing more than a mouse did. I was determined to prove him wrong, but while still trying to keep my senses, I knew that I had to live with him for only a short time; just long enough to get the answers I wanted.
I smiled my sweetest, brain-less, smile. “Well I’ve been worried about my love. You see I think he’s mixed up with these awful people and he just brings home these awful weapons. Guns and such. I don’t like it one bit.” I used a rusty, but seemingly legitimate, British accent and even surprised myself.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head-” I stopped listen while he went on about how men know how to protect their ‘women’. I think I’m going to be sick if I meet one more man like him.
“And further more, I think you need to leave the guns and such,” he smiled mockingly, “to your husband.”
“I know, but these weapons have governmental stamps on them. I assumed that you were aware of them and that you could put a special lock or something to protect my children.”
He looked shocked at my knowledge of safely locks being invented.
“I assure you that if they truly came from us, they’d have locks.” He smirked. “We wouldn’t want the President held liable, you know.”
“Yes, of course.” And now I knew all I needed to know. The government supplied us with weapons about as much as they supplied us with money. Now the question was: Where do they come from? “Well I must get home. My children will be home from school soon.”
“How many children do you have?” He started rummaging through his desk.
“Two boys, built like their father mind you. And a girl, beautiful as can be.” I smiled.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” He started scribbling on three photographs and handed them to me. “Here you go. I’m sure your kids would like these.”
“Thank you so much.” I hoped I sounded grateful, because as he stared at my chest all I wanted to do was punch him.
“No problem, Mrs. Holt.” He smiled at my chest.
I guess I should be grateful he remembered my last name and my pre-text, I thought to myself. Not that it seemed to matter.
“Allow me to show you to the door.” He walked me over and just before he shut it he pinched my butt.
I had to count to ten or I would have gone back in there and let out all my pent up anger on him. Sighing I realized that if I wasted my time with him then I wouldn’t get my job done and I would be wasting what anger I wanted to use on the people who’d been lying to me.
At that thought I remembered Brian. Friday I’m supposed to be in a messy, but cozy apartment furiously trying to make it presentable. I smiled to myself as I haled a cab on the sidewalk near the White House gates. Not only have I told Brian I lived there, but also I told him I knew of places in LA that Nick did not.
After I got back to my apartment I made the decision that I was going to fly out to LA on the next flight so I could prepare.
No sooner was I walking out the door then my office phone rang. I knew only my boss had that number so it was he. I groaned and dropped my bags at the door and walked back to my office. It rang relentlessly. No matter how slow I walked, my boss didn’t hang up.
“What, boss?” I sunk into my office chair.
“I have some had news.” He wasn’t that sympathetic so I knew it wasn’t anything considerably bad.
“Lay it on me.”
“Your bike, that was supposed to be fixed, after you near totaled it…” He lingered hoping to give the news more depth.
I remembered the incident and smiled. I had taken my fair shares of licks for Brian. And trashing my precious bike for him was proof enough I risked everything when it came to him.
~~~
She turned on I-30 and cranked the gas doing a 135 now. If She pushed it any further one might think it would blow.
Whizzing in and out of traffic she raced to catch up. She pulled her right leg under her butt as she slid on the side of her Kawasaki motor bike under a moving semi. She pushed her right foot against the ground to push her self back up. Never going below 130 during that moment. She heard beeping horns and people screaming that ‘he’ was crazy. No one figured a girl would risk her life following a rusty brown van. They would never know by the thick helmet and visor that concealed her pretty features.
Shots rang out as the back doors of the van flung open. Two men with shotgun opened fire. Two shots grazed her leather trench coat as she ducked and dodged bullets.
The two men cursed every shot that missed her and laughed wickedly when they thought they had her, only to curse again when she kept after them.
The van swerved to keep up with the unknowing tour bus as it sped along only to keep a schedule. While it’s passengers slept lazily, unaware of the ongoing events just outside of the steal bearers.
The two men bounced against the van were when it swerved, turning to their driver, cursing his bad driving.
She knew an open shot when she saw one. With one hand, she reached into the belt of her jeans, concealed by her jacket, and pulled out a fully loaded pistol attached with a silencer. She aimed for the man still leaning against the door and shot this right leg. The man on the other wall looked with horror at the man who screamed with pain. Slowly, the man still standing and, for the moment, unhurt stared at the biker with fear. He dropped his gun and reached out for the first door.
With one shot he was sent back, clutching his chest, screaming.
The screams were muffled by the speed on the Interstate. She sped up the driver’s window and took aim at his head. It took moments before he glanced her way. With a look of sure terror her let out a weak yelp.
She ordered him top pull over and for a moment hr looked like he would, but at the moment it was spoken that his friends and he were under arrest he changed his mind quickly.
He turned his wheel to the right and just as quickly to the left sending her and her bike slamming into the cement-bridge as they approached. Though mangled in her bike and cement she look aim and shoot out the back two tires.
It was only moments after the van was out of control, they were arrested and she was intensive care at the hospital.
~~~
I haven’t had a chase like that in some time. Pity. “So what’s wrong with my bike?”
“It is now officially scrap metal. We’ve got you a new one, but it’s in LA. I wouldn’t want to be the one responsible for picking the wrong color.” He chuckled, but after realizing that he was the only one he stopped.
“Fine, I’m going to LA anyway. I’ll be back in time for the interview on Sunday.”
I’ll only have two three days tops with Brian before it’s all over, I thought grimly to myself.
“Fine. Be sure your back before 5.”
I hung up the phone
with out another word. Last minute I decided to run into my office to get my riding
gear. After that I was on my way to LA and to do a lot of ‘homework’
on that particular city.
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