An Encounter in Atlanta Part 8

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One of Mandi's eyebrows went up as she peered at Cade, then she looked at John and said firmly, "Okay. He'll do."

"Glad to hear it," said John. "Do for what, exactly?"

Laughing shortly, she said, "Just about anything, I expect."

Chapter Nine

Paul Money ignored the buzzing of his walkie-talkie until he'd finished scribbling a phone number on a tiny memo pad.



"If you have any real problems, call this number," he told the female volunteer staffer. "Ted's crew knows how we like to set up the speakers. Ask if they brought Darcy's amps, okay?"

With a nod, the woman headed for the doors. As Cade approached the stage, Paul waved to him, glanced over the stage once again, and then answered his two-way and dealt with another issue that had developed in the dealer's room.

Cade hefted his backpack and waited until Paul had finished that conversation before he said, "Hi, Paul. Look up."

With a harried expression, Money said, "Oh, nothing much. It's seven o'clock and we're still working on stuff that should have been done half an hour ago.

I'm swamped with details, three people are out sick, and..."

Casually pointing skyward without lifting his arm, Cade said, "I said 'look'

up, not what's up."

Paul Money looked up and his mouth fell open as his eyes widened. A blonde woman in what seemed to be a white bathing suit with a red cape and blue boots appeared to be standing on thin air near the auditorium's high ceiling. She gave him a little wave and a smile.

"Oh, d.a.m.n!" muttered Paul, thumbing his walkie-talkie on. "What the h.e.l.l..?

I'll get someone in here with a ladder."

"She didn't get up there with a ladder," said Cade. "She won't need one to get down, either. Cancel the call."

"d.a.m.n it, Martin, answer up!" Paul muttered into the walkie-talkie. He turned to Cade and asked, "Cade, why the h.e.l.l are you jeopardizing the entire convention with a stunt like this?! We don't need a lawsuit."

"It isn't a stunt, Paul. She's the woman who was on the news. Cancel that call."

Glancing up, Money asked, "The, uh... superwoman?"

Cade reached quickly for the walkie-talkie, s.n.a.t.c.hed it out of Paul's hand, and turned it off.

With a chuckle, he said, "Oh, good guess. I'll give this gadget back to you in a minute. This isn't a gag. That's her."

Turning a very skeptical gaze at Cade, Paul asked, "And you just happen to know her?"

Shrugging, Cade said, "Yeah, that's about the size of it. Everybody knows somebody, y'know. She'd like to make her public debut here at DragonCon. If you can fit her in, that is."

Paul Money took a deep breath, counted to ten, then asked in a controlled voice, "How would both of you like to be banned from this and all future DragonCons and..?"

Cade raised his voice slightly and interrupted with, "d.a.m.n it, listen up!

She's the real thing, Paul."

A pair of blue boots slowly descended next to Cade, followed by two very fine female thighs, then the rest of the blonde woman Paul had seen hovering above him. Once she was standing next to Cade, Mandi slung her cape over her shoulder with a touch of flourish and smiled brightly.

After a moment of openmouthed startlement, Paul unfroze himself and walked around her, waving his hands above and around her, then he returned to face both of them.

With a grin, Cade laughed, "Trusting soul, aren't you? Nope, no wires, Paul.

She wants to go public and she's willing to put on a little show. If you can squeeze her into tonight's program, I'll introduce you."

"Ah..." Paul groped for words, then he seemed to pull himself together quickly and asked, "A show?! When?!"

"Like I said, sometime tonight, but..."

Paul interrupted with, "I'll make some calls. We'll put her in at the end.

That way she can have all the time she wants."

"In that case," said Cade, "Mandi, meet Paul Money. Paul, this lovely superlady is Mandi Steele."

Mandi extended a hand and Paul -- who'd many times in the past escorted name bands and TV and movie stars around a DragonCon -- took it as if he'd never met a celebrity before.

After introductions were finished, Cade said, "Paul, you didn't let me finish. Don't make any calls about her. No announcements. We'll keep tonight's appearance under wraps until the last minute."

Looking at Cade with more than a little confusion, Paul asked, "Under wraps?"

"Yup. Tonight's crowd will already be a.s.sembled to watch the costume contests and the bands. There's almost no chance that anyone with a grudge about today's events will be able to try anything on such short notice."

Paul's face turned troubled and cautious. He glanced at Mandi for a moment, then looked around the auditorium.

When his gaze again met Cade's, he quietly and soberly asked, "You mean like another bomb, don't you?"

Nodding, Cade said, "You got it. One short show, tonight only, top secret until she flies in. Still interested?"

"You... uh... You really think it'll be safe?"

"If n.o.body leaks, yes. That's why we're talking to you, Paul. You can adjust the schedule without having to put changes through a committee. n.o.body has to know a d.a.m.ned thing until Mandi lands on the stage and you announce her."

Staring at Mandi, Paul bit his lip and said, "Ah... Just a minute. Lemme think."

Speaking for the first time, Mandi smilingly said, "I'll just get in a little exercise while you think about it, Paul."

The rich contralto tones of her softly spoken words were still tickling his brain as Mandi lifted a few feet from the floor. She leaned slightly toward the forward edge of the stage and then seemingly dove completely across the auditorium.

At the far end of the room, Mandi banked hard left at the wall and made three complete circuits of the auditorium at what must have been more than sixty miles per hour.

Paul softly muttered, "Hooo-ly s.h.i.+t..!"

"Yup," said Cade. "She'll bring her own props, too."

"Huh? Props? What props?"

Nodding, Cade said, "She wants to use a Crown Victoria like the one that blew up."

Stepping back slightly, Paul blinked at Cade and exclaimed, "She can't bring a G.o.dd.a.m.ned car in here!"

"Sure she can. The gas tank'll be empty. It'll never touch the carpets. No problem."

"But..."

"Don't worry so much, man. We'll clear it with the hotel if you'll clear us a path through the crowd. Rope off a trail about eight feet wide from the front double doors to the auditorium and have people on hand to keep it clear at showtime."

"But... The doors! Will a car even fit through the doors?"

Grinning, Cade said, "Yup. Already checked that out. We'll have three inches on each side at the ballroom doors and almost four on a side at the front doors.

We'll have to put the antenna down, though."

Mandi streaked back across the auditorium and looped once over the mens'

heads to settle gently to the stage a few feet away from them. Flipping her cape over her shoulder again, she walked toward them with a smile.

Paul's eyes were on her chest. Cade's eyes met her gaze, as usual. Mandi liked that about him; he wasn't one of those guys with a b.o.o.b fixation and he had no trouble making or keeping eye contact when he talked with her.

"Well, Paul?" she asked. "Do I go on stage tonight?"

"I... uh, I really ought to check with..."

"Nope," said Cade, shaking his head. "Safety first. n.o.body else is to know a d.a.m.ned thing about this until showtime. Yes or no, Paul. She can go public here tonight or at a press conference at WNN tomorrow."

"Paul," Mandi said softly, "We'll give WNN ten minutes' notice so they can get a camera crew over here. Think of the publicity for the convention."

In a visible quandry, Paul grimaced and glanced at Cade, then asked, "You're sure it'll be safe..?"

"If you keep it secret, it will be."

Mandi perked up and glanced at the doors, causing Cade and Paul to also look that direction.

"Gotta go," she said. "People are coming."

"That's just the sound crew," said Paul, but Mandi was already gone when he turned.

"She's pretty quick," said Cade, as Paul looked around the auditorium. "I may as well get underway, too. What's a good time for the show? Ten? Eleven?"

"Uh... around midnight, actually," said Paul, scribbling his cell phone number on his notepad and handing it to Cade. "We always run a little late and she'll be the last act. What's your cell number?"

"Can't give it out; it's an agency internal number. Doesn't matter; I'll be here and you can give me fifteen minutes notice to let Mandi and WNN know when to show up."

"How can you be sure WNN will show up?"

With a small grin, Cade said, "I know a few of the news people." s.h.i.+fting his backpack to his left shoulder, he added, "See you later," and headed for the doors.

On his way to the escalator, Cade took out his cell phone and called John.

"It's a go, John. Mandi's chunk of the show will start around midnight. I'll be able to give you about fifteen minutes notice."

"Good enough. We'll have people in the crowd on general principles. Do you want me to notify WNN?"

"Fine with me. We'll give them ten minutes or less to get over here. Good?"

"Good. Anything else, Ed?"

"Nope. I'm gonna find some dinner and get the h.e.l.l away from all these people for a while."

"Later, then."

"Over and out and stuff like that."

Cade made it as far as the second-level escalators before Mandi stepped out of a phone alcove and said, "Hi, there."

"Hi, yourself, milady. Superpeople changing in phone booths isn't exactly an original concept, y'know."

"Then it's a good thing it doesn't have to be, isn't it? How'd the rest of the visit go?"

"Good. You'll go on stage around midnight. Paul's gonna give me about fifteen minutes to set things up. You'll be the last part of the show."

Mandi nodded. "Sounds fine. What about the car?"

Leading the way to the parking area, Cade said, "That's where we're going now. I've got the keys to one of John's agency rentals. It's got about an eighth of a tank, so we'll siphon it dry and give it a wash before we take it inside."

"A wash? At this hour? Where?"

"Around back at the loading docks. That's where they wash the hotel vans.

Manuel said he'd meet us there at eight and spiff it up inside and out for twenty bucks."

"Manuel?"

"He's a hotel employee. He gets to keep the gas, too; all but enough to get the car moving again later. How's your stage makeup holding together?"

"You tell me. The cheek implants felt odd and they kept s.h.i.+fting. I was afraid to talk for fear of spitting on Paul."

An Encounter in Atlanta Part 8

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An Encounter in Atlanta Part 8 summary

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