Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 (97 page)

Interesting that when I said it was a matter of life and death no one even blinked, but the fact that I was a minor got some attention. “Thank you,” I said, gathering up my boarding pass.

“Can you call your parents and whoever is picking you up at Dulles?” she asked. “Or do we have to do that?”

“No, I’ve got it, thanks.”

“Great! We’re kind of shorthanded.” She smiled apologetically.

To get to the seating area I had to walk along the queue of passengers. All of these people were tired and worried and not able to go where they wanted to go. I was getting better at shutting out the emotions of people around me, but right now it was overwhelming. Feelings of frustration, sadness, and worry poured off of them. They were all screwed and they knew it.

I settled back in my seat and watched for a good long while. As unhappy as people looked while they were in line, they were even more unhappy when they were done talking to the airline officials. Each one trudged away from the counter, pulled out their cell phones and gave someone on the other end the bad news. No one was getting what they wanted. I watched for an hour or so, and despite the bright lights and the nonstop sounds of people talking, I found it hard to keep my eyes open. Finally I gave in to it, closing my eyes, letting myself drift and thinking:
Take me to Russ.

Just like that I felt my spirit leave the bustle of the airport terminal and I traveled through time and space, all of it going by like I’d fast forwarded over the boring parts. Before I knew it, I was standing behind Russ, but he wasn’t alone so I didn’t show myself. I seemed to be in a very bright narrow space filled with metal counters and serving dishes—a restaurant kitchen maybe? Russ stood in front of Layla Bernstein, who was sitting at a counter with two half-eaten plates of food in front of her.

I wished he were alone so I could tell him I was on my way, that Mallory had gone over to the dark side, and that Mr. Specter was still alive and had a sinister plan for the Bash. Instead, all I could do was wait and hope that Layla would have to go to the bathroom or have some other reason to leave the room. I listened, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Pretty sure?” Russ said to Layla in a flirtatious way.

“Let’s test it, shall we?” She stood up and pushed her stool aside, and then grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck to hold him close. Layla was the same height as Russ, and (I feel sick saying this) absolutely beautiful. Her black hair gleamed like in a shampoo commercial, her skin lacked visible pores, and worst of all her mouth was on top of my boyfriend’s and he wasn’t pulling away. My heart stopped and then it broke into a thousand pieces. Heartbroken. A real word and a real thing. How could Russ do this to me? He’d given me a ring and said he loved me and I’d thought his word was his promise. I thought he felt the same way about me as I felt about him, but I never would have betrayed him like this. Watching them kiss was excruciatingly painful, but I couldn’t make myself look away.

When they finally pulled apart, she took a second to look into his eyes, connecting with him the way I always did. “So?” he said. “What do you think?”

I strained to hear her answer, when with a violent shake, I was yanked out of the scene and back into my own body. A nanosecond later I was in my seat at the airport, my head spinning from the suddenness of it.

“Nadia?” I opened my eyes to see the woman from the airline counter standing above me, her hand squeezing my shoulder. “Nadia? Honey, are you okay?”

“Yes?” I rubbed my eyes. Even under normal circumstances being jolted out of an astral projection felt a little like waking up in the back seat of the car after sleeping through a road trip. Add that to the shock of seeing the love of my life kissing another girl and I wasn’t in a good place emotionally. I tried to pull it together. I mean, maybe there was a good reason for that kiss? Honestly though, I couldn’t even imagine what that would be. “I mean, yeah, I’m fine.”

She chuckled, a bit indulgently. “You had me worried for a minute. I’ve never seen anyone who was so out of it sitting upright like that.”

“No, I’m okay.” My eyes began to fill with tears and I wiped them away. “Just dozed off for a second.”

“Well I have some news for you,” she said. “It’s not the best news, but it’s not the worst either. We got you on a flight for tomorrow afternoon.” She held up a hand and spoke hurriedly, like she was expecting me to protest. “It was the absolute best we could do, and believe me, they tried everything.”

“Is there a train or a bus? Some other way I can get to D.C.?” I looked around and saw that the crowd had thinned, but there were still a fair number of people in line, while others hunched over laptops and tablets, trying to make other arrangements to get to their final destination.

“I’m sorry, but no.” She shook her head and I saw that her once jaunty scarf looked a little droopy. “I have a voucher for you to stay at the airport hotel and then all you need to do is come back tomorrow. This is not normal procedure for an unaccompanied minor, but we’re short staffed and—”

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“That’s what I told my supervisor,” she said. “I told her that you seem very capable. Now remember, your bags will be on carousel four. And the hotel is right here inside the airport, on the far end. Follow the signs.”

“Carousel four. Airport hotel. I’ve got it.” I took the voucher and new boarding pass from her hand. “Thanks.”

“There’s a number on there,” she said, pointing to the folder holding the pass. “Any problems, day or night, just call.”

“Okay.”

“And you did call your parents? And the person who’s picking you up?” She asked, craning her neck to see the desk.

“I’ve taken care of everything,” I said. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Good girl!” she said, flouncing away. “Good luck to you and safe travels!”

Russ

After Layla gave me a good-bye hug, I wandered out through the Family Dining Room. Before I could even wonder what to do next, I was approached by a Secret Service agent. He could have come direct from a movie set—clean cut, dark suit, one of those ear things. “Russ Becker?” he said, without even a trace of a smile. For a second I wondered if I was in some kind of trouble.

“Yes?”

“Your car is waiting.”

The driver knew where to go and I returned to PGDC in time to hear that there was big news. “Two major announcements,” Mitch said in a gathering in a conference room. “The first thing is that it looks like your friend Nadia has gotten permission from her father to join us.”

My lips involuntarily stretched into a wide smile and I felt my heart float upward like a bobber in a stream. Nadia. It seemed like forever since we last saw each other at her window and I’d given her the spiral ring. Having her with me made everything better. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the comic book and the image of her dead on the ground. But that had been at home. Maybe she’d be safer here with me?

All eyes were on me. Mallory clapped, Jameson whooped, and even Carly looked pleased for me. “You know what this means, don’t you?” Jameson said, running a hand over his newly shorn head. He looked better with short hair. I think I did him a favor scorching the top of his head. “I’ll have two dates for the Bash and one of them will be your girlfriend.”

I ignored him. “When? When will she get here?”

Mitch said, “Her flight comes in later this afternoon, so she will be at the luxury suites by the time you get back from what is big news number two—your visit with Vice President Montalbo!” The Praetorian Guard officials buzzed with excitement and anticipation. Dr. Wentworth clasped her hands together. “This is huge,” she said, her eyes widening. “We were afraid you wouldn’t see Vice President Montalbo until the night of the Bash and that might have been too late.”

The news of Nadia was overshadowed by the preparation for our upcoming White House visit. We spent an hour in the conference room being told how to dress and practicing the protocol for a meeting with the vice president. Mitch and Dr. Wentworth were running the show, but our lovely Edgewood chaperones, Dr. Anton, Rosie, and Carly were there as well, all of them with advice for us. Dr. Anton asked Jameson and me to push the conference table aside to give us space for some role playing. Of course I wound up doing it the old school way while he did it with his arms folded using the power of telekinesis. “Show off,” I grumbled.

“Nah, just lazy,” he said, for once not trying to prove anything. “Plus I can use the practice.”

“Firm handshake, good eye contact!” Will exclaimed with enthusiasm during our rehearsal. “Try not to talk too much, but feel free to ask a few polite questions about neutral topics. Ask him about Tipper. He loves to talk about his dog.”

Mitch said, “Jameson, make sure you keep your hands out of your pockets! Remember, good posture is important, but keep it natural.” Not clear on the concept, Jameson slouched less with his hands hanging awkwardly on either side.

Mallory seemed worried. “So I’ll do it during the picture taking?” she asked. We’d been over this half a dozen times but she seemed to need constant confirmation.

“That will probably be your best opportunity to touch him for any length of time,” Mitch said, nodding. “A handshake will be too quick.”

“What if I don’t have enough time?” she said, her voice tinged with worry.

“Improvise,” Will said with all the vigor of a drama teacher. “I know you’ll figure something out.”

Mallory fiddled with the ends of her hair. “Okay,”

“Just get the job done,” Will said. “You need to stop him from teaming up with the Associates. Implant the phrases we suggested and we have a good shot.”

Vice President Montalbo, we’d been told, had an enormous ego and Mallory was instructed to use that to our advantage. The idea she’d be implanting was that the Associates were going to use him and then discard him, whereas with the help of the Praetorian Guard, he had a good chance of becoming the presidential candidate and ultimately getting voted into office during the next election. That would be a real achievement, and he would ultimately have the power, prestige and admiration he craved. Of course, the Praetorian Guard had no plans to actually have him become a presidential candidate, but he wouldn’t know that.

Hopefully Mallory wouldn’t go off script like she did with Layla. I still didn’t think it was funny.

“Remember to just use word associations if you’re pressed for time,” Dr. Anton said. “Praetorian Guard equates to honor, prestige, and power. The Associates equals corruption, and disrespect. He’s got a huge thing about being disrespected. That word is heavy for him.”

Mallory nodded, the enormity of the task seeming to weigh on her. Rosie put an arm around her shoulder. “Don’t think about it too much Mallory, or you’ll make yourself crazy. You’re a smart, capable girl. Believe me, you can do this.” Rosie and her particular brand of motherly love had a calming effect on Mallory, who exhaled in relief. Rosie continued, “It all starts with a handshake and ‘it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Vice President.’ Just start there and do it the way we practiced and you’ll do fine.”

All the way to the vice president’s office at the Eisenhower Executive Office Building, and even while sitting in the waiting area, I noticed Mallory practicing as she periodically mouthed the words, ‘it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Vice President” over and over again. “You’re going to do great,” I said, squeezing her hand in the waiting room, but she didn’t look reassured.

Mallory leaned in close and quietly said, “Russ, can I ask you a question?”

I resisted the urge to say, ‘you already have,’ (something my dad always said and thought was absolutely hilarious), and just answered, “Sure.” Next to us Jameson was amusing himself by juggling wrapped peppermints he’d taken from a dish next to him. He’d started with three and had worked his way up to six. His juggling was less impressive when you knew that he wasn’t actually juggling at all.

Mallory dropped her voice to a whisper, “Russ, when we were in Peru and Mr. Specter had that Deleo strapped to your head, how did you manage to fight it off?”

I was sure we’d had this discussion before, but I didn’t mind telling her again. “I figured that if he was trying to change my feelings and thoughts, I’d block them with my own feelings and thoughts.” With some quick thinking at the time, I’d called to mind the strongest weapon I had in my arsenal of emotions, the way I felt about Nadia.

“So you just thought things?” She said, raising her eyebrows significantly.

I nodded. “I built a wall out of what I knew to be true and I blocked what he was trying to add. It’s like ignoring people who are talking too loudly on the bus. It takes a lot of effort, but you can do it.”

Relief washed over her face. “You built a wall out of what you knew to be true and blocked what he was trying to add. And that worked.”

“Yes, it worked,” I said. “I filled the space with truth and love and then there was no room left for lies and deception.” Man, was I poetic! I had half a mind to write that down.

“No room left for lies and deception.” Mallory said, almost to herself, letting out a slow breath.

When the vice president’s assistant told us he was ready to see us, Jameson dropped the candy back into the dish and we trooped into his office.

“Come in, come in,” Vice President Montalbo greeted us from his desk with a wide smile. His dark hair was smoothed back, not a strand out of place. He got up and met us halfway, his arm extended. He was shorter than me, which surprised me. He always looked so tall standing next to President Bernstein. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting all of you.”

He had a slick handshake, one I’d never experienced before. While he was grasping your hand, he pulled you toward him. For the guys, he then placed his other hand briefly over yours. For Mallory, he pulled her in giving her sort of a half hug. It’s not as creepy as it sounds because it was quick and accompanied by smooth compliments. Mallory got, “Now who’s this lovely young lady?” and Jameson was “statesmanlike with a strong handshake,” while I was told I had “the presence of a leader.” The thing with phony compliments is that even when you know you’re getting them, it’s still okay. Vice President Montalbo was shoveling it hip deep and we were all standing in it, straight and proud.