3 The Spy Who Totally Had a Crush on Me Page 11

  “ Easy if I had your computer skills,” Brent said.

  “ Mark!” I said and walked into the room, ruffling up my hair and trying my best to look lost and confused.

  There was noise and motion in the hallway and two men in gray suits burst into the room. Each of them had holstered side arms on their belts and they held their hands on their guns.

  “ Hold it,” one of them said.

  “ Sorry!” I said pointing to my ears, “ I can’ t hear you!”

  One of them spoke into a small radio transmitter pinned to his sleeve and in a few seconds the shrieking of the alarm stopped.

  “ Whew, that’ s better,” I said. “ Do you know where the bathroom is? Because I got so turned around, I’ m totally lost. And then I wandered in here by mistake and the next thing I know, it’ s like I’ m on some spaceship or something with all of the screeching and the noise. The thing is I have a tray of pate to deliver so if you can show me the way to the kitchen?

  “ Put your hands up!” Mr. Stern faced security man said.

  “ Whoa! No need to get unfriendly, just point me in the right direction and I’ ll skedaddle back the way I came.” You heard me. I said skedaddle. I’ m old school.

  I started toward the door, when they both drew their weapons, pointing them at me. The downside when one is involved in a life of international intrigue. This is the third time I’ ve had a gun pointed at me and let me tell you it’ s way down on my list of fun things to have pointed at me. Point a cinnamon roll at me and I’ m there. Wave a gift card to Hollister in my direction and I’ m down with that. But this gun stuff is just frankly starting to annoy me.

  “ Hey wait a minute! I’ m with the caterer and just got turned around and now I need to get back to work or I’ m going to lose my job. And I need this job. It’ s hard enough getting the puff pastries out to the guests while they’ re still hot, let alone having a gun stuck in your face! This is just a big misunderstanding and I’ ll just...”

  “ Ma’ am, put your hands up now!” It was hard to tell the guards apart because they both looked the same. They had light colored hair, were about the same height and they were in good shape. Both seemed to be getting a little ticked off at me. Which is my special gift; my ability to tick off complete strangers.

  “ Okay, okay! Geez I didn’ t know you could get shot at in Beverly Hills just for trying to find the bathroom. I’ m from the valley. What do I know?” Gingerly I put the tray down on floor and put my hands up.

  The younger looking one holstered his weapon and walked around behind me. He reached up to grab my right wrist as if he were going to put handcuffs on me. Here goes.

  Instead of letting him get a firm grip on my arm, I flipped my wrist around and grabbed his instead. I stepped quickly out to the side and while I did, I lifted the tray with my foot and flipped it up in the air at the guy holding the gun. He shouted but the tray foot tossing got him all messed up and he tried to catch it instead of shooting me, which is probably what he should have done. But maybe being attacked by tray flipping waitresses wasn’ t covered in the Security Guard training manual.

  My momentum carried me to the side of the first guy trying to cuff me. I took his arm and stepped behind him like were dancing and he was trying to twirl me, but instead of spinning around and batting my eyelashes at him, twisted his arm up behind him. I reached into his holster and quickly drew his gun and tossed it to the far corner of the room. With a hard shove, I pushed him toward his buddy who was still bobbling the tray. They crashed into each other and landed on the floor in a heap.

  “ That’ s for pointing a gun at me!” I said.

  I leapt over them and raced out of the room and into the hallway.

  I had to assume two things. One, Brent had restored the video feed and they could see what had just happened. So they’ d be sending other guards. And the two guys behind me would be coming after me and we’ re likely to be in very bad moods.

  “ Brent?” I said.

  “ Rachel, you need to get out of there!” he said.

  “ Thanks for that, how do I do it?” I said.

  “ Try to avoid the other guards and get to the kitchen,” he said.

  Okay. Brent has a little bit of an issue when it comes to the stating of the obvious.

  “ I know that!” I said.

  “ Mr. Kim is moving in your direction. Try to stay loose, the cavalry is on the way,” he said.

  I had reached the end of the hallway now and headed back to the party. I could hear a commotion coming from all different direction and suspected more guards were on the way. I darted into the first room I came to and flattened myself in the doorway. Sure enough a few seconds later another pair of gray suited guards went racing past, guns drawn and shouting into their radios.

  When they ran by, I quietly slipped out and ran in the opposite direction, turned the corner and soon I was back in the main room where the party guests still mingled.

  “ Brent, what’ s going on,” I whispered.

  “ There are four guards in the Firehorn room now. They’ re giving it a pretty close inspection. You left your tray behind and one of them has it. They’ re probably going to try to fingerprint it if they don’ t catch you first. Where are you?” he asked. I wasn’ t worried about my fingerprints. Mr. Kim had them removed from all databases after I’ d been busted for joy riding.

  “ I’ m back in the main room. I need to get out of here,” I said.

  “ Mr. Kim should be there any minute, he’ ll be able to think of something,” he said.

  I made my way through the guests, gathering up a few empty glasses, trying not to act suspicious. Ahead of me, one of the other was waiters headed toward the kitchen with an empty tray. I undid my ponytail and shook out my hair, letting it hang around my shoulders as I cut him off.

  “ Hi. There’ s a spill over near the Grand Piano, do you mind taking care of it while I borrow your tray?” I asked.

  The waiter was of course one of Mr. Kim’ s agents, so he didn’ t argue. We traded the empty glasses for the tray. I glanced around me, just in time to see the four guards entering the room from the hallway. I ducked a little covering my face with the tray and began moving as quickly as I could through the crowd toward the kitchen.

  The guards cut through the crowd, spreading out to look for me. They’ d obviously searched each of the rooms on the way back, and knew that I would have had to move in this direction.

  I reached the kitchen and burst through the door, almost running over Mr. Kim.

  “ Rachel, are you okay?” he asked.

  “ Yes, but we’ ve got to hurry, we’ ve got bogies on our tail,” I said.

  I followed him as we made our way across the kitchen to the side door. It was dark outside now and in someway it felt like I’ d been inside that house forever. The back of the van burst open and I scrambled in while Mr. Kim hopped in the driver’ s seat.

  Brent’ s van was already idling ready to pull out once we were secure. Mr. Kim backed up turning the van around and we accelerated down the driveway toward the gate, with Brent following us in the other van.

  “ Mr. Kim, how are we going to clear the gate?” I asked. “ Since the alarm sounded, won’ t they shut it down?”

  “ Not to worry,” he said.

  Well, I worry. So sue me.

  A single guard stood at the gate as we drove toward it. My heart started speeding up. At first I thought Mr. Kim was going to run him over and crash through the gate, but as we drew closer he slowed. The guard stepped out of the way and the gate slid open. As we drove through Mr. Kim waved at the guard who saluted back.

  Whew.

  “ Student?” I said.

  Mr. Kim nodded.

  “ Special Agent William Lacy, class of ’ 91,” he said.

  We had done it. We had the Firehorn.

  Of course we didn’ t have it for long.

  Chapter 18— Friend Or Foe

  From the house we drove the vans straight to the
airport in Burbank where we boarded the FBI jet. A few hours later we landed at Quantico. We spent the night in some guest quarters. With the time change it was now early in the morning and we were all exhausted. At least I was.

  We spent the next day lounging around the barracks at Quantico. I have to say it was a cool place to be, what with all the neat-o FBI stuff around. I asked Mr. Kim if we could take a crack at the famous obstacle course. He did a double take because he wasn’ t used to me volunteering for anything involving voluntary movement of major muscle groups. But he said no. We needed to rest and then return to school as soon as possible.

  Late that afternoon we drove back to the Academy. We were all still a little wired from the mission and I have to say I was somewhat surprised it had gone as well as it did, especially since Mithras hadn’ t shown up. Brent had checked the FBI Facial Recognition Data base and all of the photos we had run through it from the party had come back negative. The software takes the picture of the person and analyzes their face using various points of reference that can’ t be changed by a disguise. The distance between the eyes, the set of the mouth, the size of the nose, etc. It scans those images and compares them to photos in the data base and looks for matches. None of the images matched Simon Blankenship.

  Of course it didn’ t mean he didn’ t have someone there. Could have been anyone and we wouldn’ t have known it. Which is what had me nervous. It seemed like too good of an opportunity for him to miss. He knew our next move and for some reason I had been expecting him to show his crazy butt up. Except he hadn’ t. Why?

  I couldn’ t come up with an answer to that question, no matter how much I mulled it over. It always seemed like he was two steps ahead of us, and here he had missed a chance to grab one of the artifacts he needed. It didn’ t feel right.

  Mr. Kim made sure to have us back to Blackthorn in time for Tae Kwon Do class so we were all in the do jang in uniform working through patterns. It was tough for me to concentrate though, as I kept thinking about Blankenship.

  When class ended, everyone filed out except me. I stayed there alone and worked on a heavy bag that hung in the corner of the do jang. I practiced kicks and worked on my punches. After about a half an hour I’ d worked up quite a sweat, but still had no answers.

  “ What did that bag ever do to you?” Rinteau asked. His voice startled me and I jumped a little.

  He had changed back into street clothes and stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, watching me.

  “ Good gosh, don’ t sneak up on people like that,” I said.

  “ Good gosh?” He chuckled and smilirked like he thought I’ d just made the funniest joke in the world. He was so darn incredibly handsome when he smiled. Gulp.

  “ Did you just say ‘ good gosh’ ? He asked.

  “ You’ re supposed to have your shoes off in the do jang,” I said. Let’ s change the subject. The smile is killing me.

  He looked down.

  “ Oops,” he said.

  He kicked out of shoes and stepped over to an equipment rack hanging on the wall. He put on a foam helmet and tossed one to me, along with a pair of sparring gloves after putting on a pair of his own. He stepped back on the mat and put his hands up and started to circle around me.

  I laughed.

  “ So what, we’ re sparring now?” I said.

  “ We’ ve been sparring ever since we met,” he said.

  What the heck did that mean?

  I slipped the helmet over my head. It was made of stiff foam that covered the forehead and ears and held in place by a Velcro strap under the chin. I pulled the gloves on and matched Rinteau’ s movements as he circled around me on the mat.

  “ You know, you’ ve only just started studying Tae Kwon Do, what makes you think I won’ t kick your butt,” I said. I was a blue belt now. I’ d come from hating it when I’ d first come to Blackthorn, to tolerating it as a necessary evil, to realizing with everything I was involved in, it may be vital to saving my life. I’ d dedicated myself to working at it more diligently than before and the effects were starting to show.

  He kept circling, his eyes never wavering from mine.

  “ I may not know Tae Kwon Do yet, but I can hold my own in a scrap. Besides, I picked up a few things on the street,” he said.

  He launched a punch at me. It was a lazy looping punch that had no effort or intention behind it. I blocked it easily and countered with a quick shot of my right hand to his solar plexus. Not too hard, but enough to let him know I was serious.

  “ Ouch,” he said.

  “ Sissy.”

  Back and forth we moved, like we were dancing. He circled and jabbed and I blocked and counter punched. All the while he kept up the trash talk about how he’ d be taking me down any minute.

  “ So that little adventure out in LA, that’ s the kind of stuff you do here at the is school every day?”

  “ Not everyday,” I said. “ Mostly it’ s just school. But sometimes we pitch in and help out when we can.”

  I knew Mr. Kim hadn’ t told Rinteau the whole story. He didn’ t know the extent of our involvement with Mithras. I was careful not say too much. Being careful not to say too much is not one of my strengths.

  “ Doesn’ t seem like a normal activity for a bunch of school kids to be involved in,” he said.

  “ Oh. Really. What’ s ‘ normal’ these days. There are high schools for kids in performing arts, computers, and mathematics. We just happen to pitch in and help the FBI every now and then. Nothing too dangerous,” I said.

  “ Really? You having to go all ninja on a bunch of security guards with loaded guns isn’ t dangerous? Why would Mr. Kim put you in that kind of situation? It seems very irresponsible,” he said.

  This wasn’ t going well. Time to change the subject.

  “ How do you like the school?” I asked.

  Rinteau smiled. He knew what I was up to.

  “ How do you like it?”

  “ I asked you first,” I said.

  “ That’ s your comeback? I asked you first?” He smilirked.

  He looked at me with those mysterious gray green eyes. And really what color was that? Not exactly gray or green. More like Grayreen.

  “ It’ s okay I guess. Beats living on the street. Food’ s better than I expected,” he said.

  “ I’ ll bet. Now why don’ t you tell me what you’ re doing here,” I asked.

  “ Trying to get in a little extra work out,” he said.

  “ Ha. Really,” I said.

  “ I was wondering what you guys do around here when you aren’ t getting shot at or beating up heavy bags that have never done anything to you,” he said.

  “ What do you mean?” I said.

  “ You know… “ do” … like go to movies or get a pizza somewhere,” he said.

  “ There’ s not really a lot of time for that,” I said. “ We study a lot and we’ re pretty busy with our extra curricular training. When we met you at the mall, that was the first time we’ d been out in quite a while,” I said. In reality it was the first time we’ d been out in… ever. At least since I’ d come here. But Rinteau was fishing for something and I have to say I didn’ t like all the questions. I don’ t know why but my shields were going up.

  “ That’ s pretty sad,” he said.

  “ Why? Why is it sad? Everybody is pretty happy to be here at Blackthorn in case you haven’ t noticed,” I said. He was calling my life sad. Nobody calls my life sad. Except me.

  “ Oh yeah, I’ ve noticed all the happiness. How could you not? I just think...well...we’ re teenagers. We’ re supposed to be out doing teenager stuff. Catching a movie and getting a pie afterwards. Cruising around aimlessly in our rides. Trying to sneak into clubs. You know. Normal stuff. Not facing down a small army of armed guards and trying to steal some old ladies bling.”

  “ Maybe that’ s true. But you weren’ t exactly doing teenager stuff when we found you were you? Running with the Fourth Street Bully’ s and livi
ng on the street?” I said. And I immediately regretted it, because I saw Rinteau’ s face cloud the minute the words left my mouth. There was a brief moment of pain in his eyes. Dang it. Why did I always have to run off at the mouth so much?

  Rinteau’ s brief anger disappeared as most as quickly as it came.

  “ I wasn’ t talking about me,” he said.

  He circled in and threw another lazy punch. I raised my right arm to block it, but at the last second he feinted and launched a surprise front kick at me. The kick came with a little mustard on it and though I managed to block it with a downward sweep of my right arm, it rocked me a little bit.

  “ See told you I picked up a few things on the st....”

  He didn’ t get a chance to finish because at that point, I had swept his legs out from underneath him with a round kick and he was lying flat on his back. The fall pushed all of the breath out of his lungs and he lay there with a slightly confused look on his face.

  “ Huh. I guess you don’ t mess around,” he said.

  “ No I don’ t. Something you’ ll probably want to remember,” I said.

  He waved his arms in front of him.

  “ I surrender,” he said.

  I offered my hand to help him up. He came to his feet and then all of sudden, I had no idea how, we were standing very close together. He was five or six inches taller than me and his eyes bore into mine. He smilirked at me and the next thing I knew his arms were around my shoulders and he was pulling me closer. There must have been a faulty thermostat in the do jang as the temperature had just shot up a couple of hundred degrees. Our lips were only millimeters apart and for some reason my heart no longer seemed to be working because the blood wasn’ t getting to my brain properly

  His lips were almost touching mine, when there was a noise across the do jang. It pulled me out of my reverie and I backed away from Rinteau for a moment to find Alex standing in the doorway, his hands on his hips and a look of pure disbelief on his face.

  He stared at me then shook his head, not in anger, but in resignation. Then he spun around and stalked away.

  Oh God.

  Chapter 19— Why I Hate Boys