“Huh?”
“Never mind. How’s your hand?”
Ray frowned, and held it up. He looked at it as if it were an alien object someone had grafted to the end of his arm without him realizing it. He stripped the tape away and the bandage underneath. The skin covering his once-burnt flesh was smooth and pink as a baby’s bottom. He grinned and wriggled his fingers.
“All right,” Ray said, as if surprised. “It healed pretty fast. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so hungry. Grab a shower and get dressed and let’s go get something to eat. I’m hungry again and I’ll bet you’re famished.”
He was right. She was ravenous. She started to slip out of the other side of the bed, the sheet still drawn around her, and Ray grabbed it and pulled it away. Her first reactions were to cover her breasts and loins with her hands, but that was ridiculous. She blushed, but leaned close to him.
“I could drink a case of you,” she said, “and still be on my feet.”
“What?” Ray said, frowning.
“It’s our song,” she told him, and laughed at his befuddled look. She grabbed him and kissed him hard, then let him go and, still blushing, walked self-consciously to the bathroom, his eyes following her every step.
♥ ♦ ♣ ♠
Peaceable Kingdom: The Angels’ Bower
The anteroom was even more crowded after they piled out of Barnett’s office when the meeting ended. Barnett stayed behind to continue his prayer vigil.
Digger Downs had been chatting up Sally Lou and Mushroom Daddy was watching the kid Secret Service agent, Alejandro something or other, who was ostensibly on guard duty, make Sally Lou’s pens and pencils wriggle around on her desk as if they were snakes.
“Very cool, man,” Daddy said. “Animation. That’s a power I could dig. Kind of like Mickey in The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. Ever watch that movie stoned, man? The dancing mushrooms are just hilarious.”
Sascha was gone. Barnett had intercommed Sally Lou to get Jerry a reservation on the next available flight to New York. Sascha had gone ahead to the airport to make sure there weren’t any screw-ups. Downs looked intently at Jerry and Fortunato as they exited Barnett’s office, dropping his try at charming Sally Lou. “Something’s going on,” he said. “I can tell.”
Fortunato grimaced. “I suppose I owe you the whole story. The boy’s down in our suite, still sleeping. Come along, and I’ll tell you.”
They left the office together, and Sally Lou turned to the phone bank.
“What’s up, man?” Mushroom Daddy asked Jerry, breaking off his conversation with the Secret Service kid, who looked somewhat relieved.
“Heading back to New York,” Jerry said. “I’ve got to pick up something at the Jokertown Clinic.”
He figured there was no sense in spreading the real story around. Mushroom Daddy nodded.
“Might as well go with you, man,” Daddy said. He looked very sad. “I was planning on driving my van back, but it doesn’t look like that’s gonna happen. It’s gone, man. I only had three hundred thousand miles on it.”
Jerry felt sympathetic. To a point. “Shit happens, man,” he said.
Mushroom Daddy nodded philosophically. “Ain’t that the truth.”
Sally Lou looked up from the phone she’d just answered, blank-eyed.
“Uh,” she said, “Uh—”
“What is it, man?” Daddy asked.
“Armed men are attacking the Bower,” she said in an oddly-calm voice, as if stunned by the news. “They’re trying to reach the penthouse.”
“Shit,” Jerry said. “The Allumbrados! Get Barnett on the horn.” She nodded rapidly.
“Tell him what’s happening,” Jerry said. “Tell him to freeze the elevator banks. With any luck we can catch a bunch of those assholes between floors if they’re dumb enough to try to come on up on the lifts. Call Fortunato’s suite. Call Ray. Try to find Angel. Let them know what the Hell is happening. We’ll go downstairs and check things out.”
“I’m coming with you,” Alejandro said.
“Your duty’s with Barnett—” Jerry began.
“My duty is to stop anyone coming after him. He’s safe here with the other agents guarding the corridor, at least for awhile. Besides, you’ll need me downstairs.”
“All right,” Jerry said. “No sense wasting time arguing over who belongs where. Come on.”
They went to the north stairwell at a run, stopping only briefly to tell the agents on duty in the corridor what was happening, and headed downstairs. They went down half a dozen flights, before Alejandro, leading the way, suddenly pulled up short.
“What’s the matter?” Jerry asked. “You okay?”
Alejandro nodded silently, and drew an automatic from his shoulder holster. “I am,” he said. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid that I can’t say the same for you two.”
“Hey, man,” Mushroom Daddy said, “that’s so not-cool.”
“I don’t want to do this,” Alejandro said, “but blood must sometimes be spilled in the service of the Lord.”
“What are you talking about?” Jerry asked. “You’re a Secret Service agent!”
Alejandro nodded. “I am. I am also a perfecti in the service of Our Lord, a somewhat higher master whom I am even more tightly bound to serve.”
Shit, Jerry thought. What—
Mushroom Daddy moved. He swiveled on one foot, lashing out with the other, catching the turncoat secret service agent on his gun hand. The agent lost his grip on the automatic, and it went clattering down the stairs. Alejandro went after it like a cat after a fleeing mouse.
“Run!” Daddy said, and for once the hippie made sense.
He and Jerry turned and fled back up the staircase. Jerry hit the steel fire door just as a bullet ricocheted off it near his head, reverberations from the gunshot pounding his eardrums like tiny hammers. He and Mushroom Daddy pushed through the door, then closed it behind them, leaning against it and breathing deeply.
“Where’d you learn how to do that?” Jerry panted.
“Bruce Lee movies, man,” Mushroom Daddy said. “He’s the king.”
“Well, thanks,” Jerry said.
“No problemo, man,” Daddy said. “Even a pacifist has to kick ass sometimes.” He paused to take a deep breath. “What do we do now?”
Jerry shook his head. It was clear that the plan to go back to the city to get a dose of the Trump has no longer feasible. There was nothing much they could do, now, that seemed remotely helpful.
♥ ♦ ♣ ♠
Peaceable Kingdom: The Angels’ Bower
Angel was still sufficiently self-conscious to dress in the bathroom.
Pity, Ray thought. He loved watching beautiful women get into clothes. And out of them, for that matter. He was particularly interested in seeing her in the underwear he’d picked up. Though he was sufficiently realistic to get her a plain, boring sports bra to wear under her new jumpsuit, he’d also picked up a few rather more lacy numbers for casual wear. He stuck with thong panties all around, though. You couldn’t beat those for looks and all-around wearability.
Angel came out of the bathroom, a concerned look on her face.
“Don’t you think this is a little low cut?” she asked, gesturing at the front of the new outfit.
Ray shook his head in admiration. “No,” he said. “I’d say that it’s just about right.”
“And a little too bright?” she asked.
He shook his head again. “Nope. It’s about time you got out of black, babe. It has its place in a wardrobe, but it can get depressing if you wear it all the time. Red suits you.”
“If you say so,” Angel said uncertainly.
Ray nodded enthusiastically. “I do. Now let’s eat. I’m starved.”
She smiled. “Me too.”
Ray’s room was on the first floor above the lobby and shop level. When possible he always took rooms on the first floor. He didn’t like to deal with elevators in either emergencies or on an everyday basis. They went down a flight of stairs that led from the room block to the hotel lobby, and Ray immediately knew that something was wrong. He could smell it even before he saw it. It was an odor he knew well, a mixture of blood and gunpowder residue.