Nikki and I left the decoy van on the street where I’d parked before and went up to her place.
Jake—who was our ace in the hole—waited on the street in my original van that we hoped would now go unnoticed by our enemies.
After taking the elevator up, we stood in the doorway of her condo a moment then I gritted my teeth and had Nikki use her thumb print to dilate the door open. I tossed in my suitcase and stepped back. Nothing exploded so I stepped in and waited a moment, half expecting something or someone to cut me to ribbons. Still nothing; it looked like it was safe.
Nikki entered behind me and closed the door. We cautiously advanced through the living room into the hall and entered the kitchen to be sure it was safe. Satisfied that there were no hidden assailants, we put our bags down on the kitchen.
“Nice to see that someone cleaned up the decapitated bag lady we left behind,” Nikki said.
“Yes, she’d be pretty ripe by now. Looks like everything else is as we left it. Now all we need to do is—”
Jake’s voice crackled over the ear radio I was wearing, “Got a bag lady nosing around your van.”
“Rats,” I said into my throat microphone. ” I’d hoped for a bit more time. OK, we’ll get ready here.”
Nikki and I hurried with our jobs. I popped open the suitcase I’d brought in and removed the industrial spray coater we’d brought back from the Moon. I started spraying a plastic cover over all the air vents in the apartment then shut off the climate computer so that it wouldn’t burn itself out trying to adjust the temperature in the rooms. That done, I sealed off the doors to the other rooms except for the kitchen and the hallway connecting the living room and kitchen area.
Nikki pushed the couch and chair back into the floor so that the living room was all carpet, then started getting the suitcases in the kitchen ready for our upcoming confrontation.
Jake’s voice came on again, “The bag lady’s either talking to herself or over a radio mike. I’m still not sure this is one of the ones we’re wanting. She really looks like a bag lady—I mean a real one.”
“Just keep an eye on her,” I said. “Let us know if she heads for the building.”
“Sorry but she’s headed your way now,” Jake said. “She took something out of her bag as she entered the front. Good luck you two. Holler if you need help.”
We’ll be needing the luck for sure, I thought, as I made a hole from the living room wall into the kitchen with a screwdriver blade. I hoped we wouldn’t be needing more help than Jake could give us since we’d be in hot water long before he could get to us. The real kicker was that this new bag lady hadn’t given us enough time to get everything done we’d hoped to do.
I inspected the tiny peep hole I’d made as Nikki got the 3V going. I turned to see a complex pattern of pulsating green circles which slowly turned blue as they rose out of the floor. The circles grew into spheres and blinked from one color to another. They grew into overlapping patterns filling every bit of space in a three dimensional polka dot pattern that continued to flash to different hues with the gonging music that throbbed with them. Up and down no longer seemed to be in the right places as the spheres started circling the room rapidly, then tilted off on a plain all their own.
“Good grief, Nikki, does anyone enjoy watching that kind of stuff? It makes me feel sick.”
“That’s my favorite 3V disc! You can apologize later.” She leaned over and turned off the sound, then took me by the hand to keep me from walking in circles. I closed my eyes to the dizzying display and let her lead me.
She got me into the kitchen just as the front door gave us a warning beep and dilated open. I peeked through the hole in the wall that I’d made. A bag lady, identical to the one we’d fought before, stepped in. The thing Jake had seen her pull out of her bag was a bullpup combat shotgun.
Chapter 16
The bag lady shut the door behind her as transparent pink bubbles chased by blue cubes swirled around her. Nikki and I put oxygen our masks on as our opponent squinted at the visual clutter produced by the 3V machine. The safety on her shotgun clicked audibly in the quiet apartment; she proceeded to fire twenty quick shots all around her.
Swearing under my breath, I grabbed Nikki and we ducked down behind the counter in the kitchen. I wondered for a moment if the cabinet would absorb the impact of the shot.
The heavy thump answered my question. I was thankful we’d hidden in the kitchen rather than trying to remain concealed in the living room among the shifting 3V patterns.
After seventeen I’d lost track of how many shots the bag lady fired. Over the ringing in my ears I heard the empty magazine of her shotgun pop out of her weapon and knew that it was now-or-never time.
I picked up one of the bottles from the suitcase Nikki had opened. Walking like a duck along the kitchen floor to the doorway so I would remain—I hoped—unseen, I tossed the bottle into the living room.
The plan was that the bottle would break. It didn’t.
Instead the heavy glass bounced on the thick carpeting and the bag lady got a good idea of exactly where we were. She slapped a fresh magazine into the shotgun.
“Take the lid off the bottles first,” Nikki whispered and threw her bottle around the corner.
I followed her example and we both quickly chugged another pair of the glass bottles around the corner as shotgun blasts riddled the door frame. Some of the liquid spilled into the kitchen as we threw the bottles. The fumes were nearly overpowering even with our oxygen masks on. I held our breath, hoping Nikki would do the same.
There were three more blasts, then things became silent in the next room. Nikki started to get up. “Wait,” I whispered. “She may be playing possum.”
I opened four more bottles and threw them around the corner into the living room just to be safe.
Still quiet in the living room.
Had our plan worked? I wondered.
We waited a few more minutes.
All remained quiet.
And my bowels made me feel like the bathroom was more of a concern than the living room.
Fear does not bring out the hero in my body, I decided, as I got up the nerve to peek into the living room through the peep hole.
The bag lady was crumpled on the carpet, looking like a pile of rags. Above her danced a group of red cubes that were slowly descending, looking as if they’d crush her.
“The old bat probably never quite realized what had happened.” I told Nikki as well as Jake over the throat mike. “Looks like our plan worked and she just kept breathing until she passed out from the fumes. I hope. I’ll check her out. Cross your fingers and come on up, Jake.”
With my Beretta trained on her, I carefully walked up to her prone form (which wasn’t easy with red and purple squares dancing through the room). I kicked the shotgun away from her then reached down and removed the flesh-colored ballistic mask from her face which surprised me since the woman was perhaps twenty-five and not unattractive.. Her eyes were closed and a soft snore greeted my ears.
Nikki turned off the 3V then brought out the plastic wrap machine and I covered the bag lady’s body in a sheet of plastic so that only her head remained free. Once we were sure she wasn’t going anywhere, we opened up the vents in the room to let air into it. After things had aired out, we removed our masks and let Jake in.
We tried to plan on what to do next. We knew that the assassin wouldn’t be an easy person to break.
Fortunately, she helped us out.