“Theoretically anything that generates energy has the potential,” came Adam’s reply. And the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced he was on the right track. It angered him. He hadn’t spent the last ten years trying to perfect a device designed to bring hope just so it could be jacked and morphed into something dark and deadly. He’d destroy it first.
Max asked Sweetness, “Where’d you place my bags?”
“In your room. Do you need them?”
“Just the laptop.”
Adam had no idea how the signal was passed, but a few minutes later one of Sweetness’s employees, a short burly man who looked like a miniature version of an African American sumo, set the laptop on the table in front of Max then exited silently.
Max lifted the top and booted up. Once the OS was ready, she keyed in the commands to access the software she’d downloaded from Portia. Nothing happened for a few seconds, and then to Max’s surprise a wavering hologram of Portia appeared in the air above the laptop. “Wow!” she yelled.
Portia could be seen smiling as she asked, “How cool is this?”
Max looked at the men and they appeared just as stunned. “You have gone to the mountaintop on this one, girlfriend,” Max crowed excitedly.
“Thanks. Something I’ve been playing with for a while. How are you?”
“Speechless.”
Portia’s image laughed. “Besides that?”
“In one piece, no thanks to the opposition, but we’re with a friend.”
“Glad to hear that. I’ve been worried.”
Max then told Portia all that had happened since their last conversation. She also related Adam’s theory.
Portia listened and at the end said, “Dr. Gary may be right. From the chatter I’m hearing, something is definitely whack at the Pentagon. I talked to Gadget a bit ago and he said Hannibal is sending in some undercover crews to fumigate the place, but a few of the rats got away. They may be too busy running to pay much attention to the prototype, but I wouldn’t count on that.” Then, as if thinking out loud, she added, “A weapon. Interesting.”
Adam had a question. “Has there been anything else on the news about the prototype?”
“No, and that’s been interesting, too. One minute you were all over the place, now, nothing. It’s as if the story never existed.”
Max was confused. “Nothing from the press?”
“Not a peep.”
Max asked, “Do you think the government has put the info on lockdown or is this more magic from the Big Bad Wolf?”
“No idea. Oil prices climbed back to their usual numbers, though. It’s as if the industry is no longer worried about the doc’s baby impacting their profits.”
“Maybe because they know something no one else does,” Sweetness speculated. “Maybe they’re confident the prototype won’t reach the market.”
Adam didn’t like the sound of that.
Max didn’t, either.
Portia said, “Best thing to do is get him to Hannibal. If he’s taking Dr. Gary in, this situation is uglier than we know.”
Max agreed. She searched her brain for any other issues needing Portia’s attention. “Anything more on Robinski?”
“No. The Bureau slipped a beacon on him before they deported him, but it died a few minutes after he landed in Malaavia. They don’t know if he found the bug or if it just malfunctioned. Either way, they lost track of him after that.”
Max sighed. “Okay.”
Portia asked, “Have you talked to the Wolf?”
“No. I don’t want to compromise him or my friend. Would you let him know I’m in town, and that I’m safe? You have my coordinates. If he could send the new whip to me, that would be a better move. Just have him park it outside and I’ll pick it up. We’ll roll out soon as it arrives.”
“Will do. I’ll have him download this software so you won’t have to use your phone. Definitely don’t let the doc use his. In fact, ditch it. We know the perps already have his number and are probably monitoring it as we speak. You and the Wolf can talk once you reach the sunflowers.”
Max nodded. “Okay, Portia. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
The hologram disappeared.
Sweetness said in awe, “Now, that was something. How much do you think she’d charge me to buy that software?”
Max responded, “Knowing Portia, more than all the gold in Switzerland.” She was exhausted. The rigorous day had finally caught up with her, and she yawned behind her hand. “I need to go to bed.”
Sweetness smiled, “Then come on.”
It was past midnight. Their host led them through his home’s vast spaces and to a red door beautifully carved in an African influenced motif. Inside the large room, the same air was reflected in the sumptuous linen drapes, the subtle animal prints, and the furniture made of teak. There were beaded floor pillows covered in reds and golds, and on the far side of the room, a kidney-shaped sunken tub with gold fixtures. Adam was impressed.
Sweetness said, “You should find everything you need, Jinga. If not, you know the routine.”
Max nodded. The dogs found themselves a comfortable place and laid down.
Sweetness turned to Adam. “Dr. Gary, I’ve put you next door.”
Adam hid his disappointment and said to Max, “Get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”
She smiled sleepily. “’Bye, Doc.” Then turning her back, she stripped herself of the brown shirt and walked to the tub.
Adam’s space next door was decorated along more masculine lines. The dark wood furniture, the shutters covering one whole wall, and the large ceiling fan gave off an island vibe. There was a sunken tub in this room, too, and he looked forward to a long chill.
Sweetness told him, “There’s wine in the small fridge. Toiletries in that cabinet. If you need anything else, just pick up the phone and dial two.”
Adam nodded. “Thanks.” As the big man turned to leave, he said, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Why do you call her Jinga?”
“Do you know who Jinga was?” Sweetness asked.
Adam didn’t.
“Angolan queen. Fought the Portuguese. Gave them fits.”
Adam smiled. He understood now. “Thanks.”
Sweetness nodded and left.
Alone, a relieved and weary Adam dropped into the nearest chair and held his head in his hands. Never in a million years would he have believed his life would turn into this. He was just a scientist trying to help the world, and now he was…he had no idea where he was, but he was safe and no one was shooting at him or trying to run them off the road. He walked over and turned on the water in the tub. While it ran, he undressed and turned on the CD player in the large entertainment unit. Soft jazz filled the room and he began to relax for what seemed like the first time that day. He looked at the wall separating his room from hers and wondered how she was doing. He hoped she was relaxing and not on her laptop working, but then again, her working on the laptop was helping to keep him out of harm’s way, so he couldn’t be too mad at her if she was. Setting thoughts of Max aside, he went to check on the tub.
Later, he was lying in the bed, listening to the jazz by the light of a candle he’d lit, when he heard Max’s voice come out of the shadows. “Doc? Are you sleep?”
Surprised, he sat up and looked around. “Where are you?”
“Over here.”
And there she was, crossing the room by the faint illumination of the candle. She was wearing a T-shirt that hit her about mid-thigh. Her legs and feet were bare. As she crawled beneath the crisp cool sheet, he asked, “How’d you get in here?”
She snuggled back against him, and he placed an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. He could smell the fresh clean scent of her body. She felt good against him.
In a tired-sounding voice she answered, “The shutters are really a door.”
Adam assumed she was referring to the wall-high
shutters he’d assumed to be simply shutters. He’d have to check it out in the morning. In the meantime he was glad to have her near and pleased that she’d sought him out. “Tell me about Sweetness. Who is he? What’s he do?”
But girlfriend was sleep. Gone. Adam chuckled softly. Guess his questions would have to wait. Content, he settled in and was soon asleep, too.
The next morning, it took Max a few moments to remember where she was. Once she did, she turned gently onto her stomach and watched him sleep. In the brief time they’d known each other, they’d gone from growling adversaries to lovers. She’d never had a man like him in her life before. In her world, the men lived on the edge, dangerous deadly men who didn’t mind straddling the thin line between what was legal and what was not as long as the price was right. This gentle, sexy man of science was rooted in other things. She didn’t think he had a dishonest bone in his body. He had no weapons experience and wouldn’t know the first thing about covert operations, but she would remember him fondly once she delivered him to the President and they each went their separate ways.
The thought of moving on was disturbing, and because she wasn’t the kind to do ties, she wondered why. She thought maybe it grew out of wanting to know more about him. In reality, she knew very little. Could he dance, sing? Was he AME? Who’d he hang out with in high school? Who was his first love? The answers hidden inside that extra large brain of his weren’t destined for her, though. They would belong to some unknown woman in his future; a woman he’d wake up next to each morning, and who probably didn’t roll with trained dogs and a grenade launcher. Thinking about that mythical woman didn’t sit well, either, but because she didn’t want to delve too deeply into her feelings, she left the bed as quietly as she could to begin the day.
Dressed and ready to rock and roll, Max and the dogs found Sweetness having his coffee in the dining room. He was reading the morning paper and eating from a large stack of pancakes.
At her entrance, he looked up and saluted her with his filled cup of coffee. “Morning, Jinga.”
“Hey, Sweet. My whip arrive?”
“Yep. It’s stashed in the garage downstairs.”
He directed her to the coffee and to the various morning delights chilling under covers on the steam table. She put some bacon, toast, and fruit on her plate then sat down to join him.
He asked, “How’d you sleep?”
She thought about cuddling with Adam and smiled gently. “Okay.” She took a sip of the coffee and let it flow into her still sleepy veins. “Thanks for the shelter.”
“For you, the world.”
She grinned and started in on her meal. She’d first met Sweet while working Homicide. Back then, he’d been consolidating his power, and the bodies of his rivals were showing up in Dumpsters and alleys all over town. A few had even been fished out of the river, but no charges ever came down because there’d been no solid evidence linking the deaths to anyone, least of all Sweetness. Tall, light-skinned, and movie star fine, he was the city’s Mr. Big. Mayor Drake Randolph might rule above, but Eric Cole, aka Sweetness, ruled Detroit’s underworld.
“Jinga, I can send some of my crew to ride with you, if you think that might help.”
“Thanks, but if the government’s involved, you should probably stay clear.” She studied him for a few moments, then asked quietly, “When are you going to give up this life?”
He smiled softly. “Ah, my conscience.”
“I’m serious, Sweet. I’d hate to read about your corpse being found in an alley somewhere, or worse, you get indicted. Even at your age you are still too pretty to do time.”
Again that smile. “Hey, thirty-seven is not that old.” Then he turned serious. “Truthfully, I have been thinking about it. Wondering what it would be like to just be plain ol’ Eric. You know?”
She did. Sometimes she just wanted to be plain ol’ Maxine Blake from small-town Texas. “I’ll help any way I can.”
“I know. Just not sure if I can walk away. The power, the money, the Life—it’s in my blood.” He shrugged. “We’ll see.”
Max knew this was his way of ending the conversation, and she respected that. The idea that he was even thinking about change made her hopeful, though. Had Sweetness lived in the fifteenth or sixteenth century, he would have been a prince, a doge. He was the consummate renaissance man—cultured, Harvard educated, and had traveled the world—but underneath all that refinement beat the heart of a gangsta. He considered himself a gentleman gangster, though, a throwback modeled on the suave and sophisticated Black kingpins who ruled Harlem in the thirties. Like them, he didn’t deal drugs, but in spite of his other illegal dealings, he did his part for the community by donating to citywide charities and using his ties to trucking to provide fresh produce to many of the smaller food banks not funded by the large corporations. But in Max’s mind, the good deeds didn’t make him any less responsible for the crimes committed in his name. Which is why she wanted him to leave the Life. With his education, big heart, and smarts, she knew he could be so much more.
When Adam entered the dining room, he found Max and Sweetness bent over a map. She looked up and gave him a smile. “Mornin’, Doc.”
Sweetness nodded. “Good morning, Dr. Gary. I hope you slept well.”
“I did. Thanks.”
Sweetness directed him to the breakfast buffet. Adam fixed himself a plate then sat. Max said to him, “I’m trying to decide what route to take.”
“Where are we going?”
“Central Ohio.”
“Shortest distance between two points is always a straight line,” he quoted around a bite of toast.
Max smiled and said, “Thank you, professor.”
“Any time.” The amused Adam felt no need to join the huddle around the map. He knew she didn’t need his help, and he was okay with it.
A voice filled the air in the room. “Boss, we got problems.”
Sweetness raised his head. “What kind?”
“The fucking Army.”
Sweetness stared at Max. Adam froze.
Sweetness asked, “Where are they?”
“Half a block down. They’re going door-to-door. Got a bunch of dogs with them.”
“Okay. You know what to do.”
Sweetness’s eyes were hard. “Time for you to go, Jinga. We’ll hold off the Portuguese for as long as we can.”
She quickly motioned the dogs to her side, then leaned up and gave Sweetness a kiss on his golden cheek. “See you next time, Eric.”
He smiled and nodded. “’Bye, Jinga.” He added, “Nice meeting you, Doc. Hope you get the Nobel.”
Adam grinned. “Thanks.”
Adam and Max quickly ran back to the bedrooms for their gear, then the four of them flew down a series of hallways to a door. It led to a ramp of sorts that funneled them down a flight of stairs, but because it was an incline, they could run faster. Max bolted through another door and they were underground. A few feet away sat a black Escalade with its engine running. They pulled open the doors and poured in.
Max strapped the dogs in, gave Ossie his pill, and stashed the duffels. She jumped in under the wheel and quickly adjusted the mirrors and seat. Snapping her seat belt into place, she put the car in gear and drive off. The dashboard was an unfamiliar one, but she didn’t have time to check out the owner’s manual, so it was going to have to be trial and error until she figured things out.
Max was glad Sweetness had had the vision to construct the tunnel. He’d given her a tour the last time she visited, so she knew it came out in a vacant lot about six blocks away. It was used almost exclusively at night, but now it was a little before nine in the morning. Someone was bound to see the SUV emerging from underground like an exotic beetle, but she couldn’t worry about that now; she’d leave that for Sweetness.
Sure enough, a bunch of school kids were coming up the street when the Escalade entered the sunlight. The kids stared with surprise, but by then Max was on level ground and rolling in the o
pposite direction.
She didn’t get far. At the next corner the traffic was jammed up because there were soldiers searching the cars ahead. Max threw it in reverse, turned around, and headed back the way she’d come.
She looked over at Adam, who was checking his mirror to see if they were being followed. Nothing so far.
“Our advantage is that I worked this side of town for ten years,” she told him. “I know a thousand and one ways to the expressway.”
“Then lead on, my sister.”
She grinned and did just that.
Taking side streets, alleys, and a dizzying amount of turns through residential neighborhoods, they merged onto the expressway fifteen minutes later. From there she picked up I-75 going south.
“How do you think they found us?”
Max shrugged. “Maybe the car that hit the barrier had a friend and they saw us pull off the highway. I don’t know.”
Adam thought that as feasible a guess as any. What mattered, though, was that Max was keeping them one step ahead.
She glanced up at the mirror. “How’s Ossie doing?”
Adam turned around so he could see. The big dog’s rib cage was rising and falling in an even rhythm. “Sleeping like a baby, look’s like.”
“Good.” She called out, “How you doing, Rube?”
Ruby barked, and a satisfied Max drove on.
The heart of the morning’s rush hour was over, so the traffic was light. The area between Detroit and the nearby Ohio border was dominated by oil refineries and other smoke-belching factories. She wanted to make as much time as she could now, in anticipation of being slowed down by all the tankers and semis she’d soon be sharing the highway with once they neared the state line.
Max was still fiddling with the Escalade’s controls. She’d mastered the wipers, the lights, and the air-conditioning. That was good, but she needed to know what the truck was packing, if anything. “Look around and see if you spot a CD. Myk should have left some kind of instructions for this baby.”
“Instructions? As in an owner’s manual?”
Max steered around an old woman doing sixty in the fast lane, then swung over again. “Sort of. See if it’s in the glove box.”