The Winning Element (12 page)
“I’m
not
making a bomb.” Beaker rolled her eyes again. “Do you not think I know what I’m doing? This would have to reach a
much
hotter temperature before it actually became bomb-worthy. ” She pointedly looked at the flame. “Of course if you don’t tell me how to defuse this, it
will
be hot enough to become bomb-worthy.”
not
making a bomb.” Beaker rolled her eyes again. “Do you not think I know what I’m doing? This would have to reach a
much
hotter temperature before it actually became bomb-worthy. ” She pointedly looked at the flame. “Of course if you don’t tell me how to defuse this, it
will
be hot enough to become bomb-worthy.”
I quickly referred to the papers. “It says to take it to at least negative five degrees Celsius within two minutes.”
With a nod, Beaker slid over a capped bottle filled with tiny green crystals. “Six of these diumfite crystals will immediately drop its temp to negative five.”
She extinguished the flame from the boiling soon-to-be bomb and inserted a thermometer. She dropped six tiny green crystals into the mixture. I watched the boiling liquid turn solid.
Beaker pointed to the thermometer. “Check it out.”
David and I scooted in. Sure enough, the thermometer read negative five degrees Celsius.
David smiled. “You are too cool.”
Beaker returned his smile, and it occurred to me that I couldn’t recall ever having Beaker smile directly at me. “Any questions?”
We shook our heads. With the demonstration, her notes really were pretty simple to follow.
She scooted her frozen bomb to the side. “Now, I wanted to ask you two something. I’ve been working on a tracking dust that works with a person’s DNA. It chemically reacts to their blood. I’m still doing tests, but if I have it ready by the time we leave for Barracuda Key, I’m confident it will be valuable in trailing Eduardo.”
David nodded. “We’ll have a mission briefing right before we leave. Be ready to show everybody how it works.”
Beaker propped her goggles back on top of her head. “It’ll be ready. Also, I’ve developed a powdered GPS compound. It’ll last five days in a person’s body. I’m calling it crystallized siumcy. I’ve already told TL about it and he said to talk to you two . . . ?”
David nodded again. “Sounds good. I’m proud of you for being proactive in your thinking and not waiting to be told what to do. That shows real initiative.”
She beamed with pride.
He’d sounded just like TL, and David’s words had elicited the same devotion that TL’s words did. I glanced over at him, swelling a bit with respect and esteem for the guy I liked. If he kept this up, he would be a great strategist one day.
[6]
We were at week three of our cheerleading training, and things had gotten tough.
“That was pathetic. That’s all you’ve got?” Coach Capri jabbed her finger toward the barn door. “Go out and do it again. Both of you. You’re jogging in here like a computer genius and chemisty whiz undercover on a top-secret mission.” Coach Capri widened her eyes. “You. Are. Cheer. Leaders.
Comprende?
”
Comprende?
”
With a sigh, Beaker and I both nodded our heads.
We’re tired,
I wanted to whine on behalf of us both. We’d been at this all day long. And a break seemed nowhere in our future.
I wanted to whine on behalf of us both. We’d been at this all day long. And a break seemed nowhere in our future.
Turning, we shuffled across the barn and out into a cold, sun-setting evening.
“My project for Excelled Physics is due tomorrow,” I grumbled. “And I haven’t even started.” The story of my life these past weeks.
Beaker stopped to adjust her cheerleading shorts. “I hate these things. They barely cover my ass.”
I commiserated. These shorts reminded me of the ones that David had bought me when I first came to the ranch—the ones I had initially refused to wear.
Rubbing her bare arms, Beaker jostled in place. “It’s freezing.”
“Okay, girls,” Coach Capri yelled from inside the warm barn. “Let’s see it.”
Beaker and I rolled here-we-go-again eyes at each other. In the past few weeks, we’d established a small—let me repeat that—a
small
camaraderie. We definitely hadn’t had any heart-to-hearts. But as slight as it was (usually a look or a mumbled complaint), it made things better.
small
camaraderie. We definitely hadn’t had any heart-to-hearts. But as slight as it was (usually a look or a mumbled complaint), it made things better.
Beaker stepped back into the barn. “Let’s do this.”
We jogged in, side by side, our feet nearly touching our butts. In my opinion it was a ridiculous way to jog. With our elbows into our sides, we clapped. "H-E-Y. Hey! We’re ready for today! P-U-M-P. Pump it up! H-E-Y. Hey! We’re ready for today! P-U-M-P. Pump it up! H-E-Y. Hey! We’re . . .”
We kept jogging around the barn, grinning, chanting the stupid cheer. According to Coach Capri, at America’s Cheer, all cheerleaders would be expected to enter the morning meeting doing this chant.
I didn’t see why we couldn’t just go in and have a meeting. And why, exactly, did cheerleaders feel the need to spell everything?
“Perfect,” Coach Capri yelled over our chanting. “Halt.”
“All this peppiness wears me out,” Beaker grumbled.
“Okay,” Coach said. “TL got called away to a meeting. So David’s here to assist with back handsprings.” She nodded to the rear of the barn.
From the shadows stepped David.
Inwardly, I groaned. Please tell me he didn’t see us.
He passed by us, smiling. “Nice
perky
cheerleading, girls.”
perky
cheerleading, girls.”
Beaker narrowed her eyes.
“We’re going to warm up for our back handsprings by doing twenty-second handstands.” Coach Capri led the way to the blue mats that ran the length of the barn. “I’ll spot Beaker, and David has GiGi.”
I groaned.
Again.
Working with David normally thrilled me. But if he was my spotter, I knew where his position would be.
Again.
Working with David normally thrilled me. But if he was my spotter, I knew where his position would be.
Right in line with my butt. And the shorty-shorts.
Great.
Juuust
great.
Juuust
great.
At least I’d shaved my legs.
Beaker and I stepped onto the mats. Coach Capri and David were a few feet in front of us.
“Feet together,” Coach reminded us. “Point toes. Straight knees. Squeeze thighs. Butt tight. Back taut. Shoulders hollowed. Head neutral. Elbows locked. And arms . . .”
Pressed to your ears,
I finished her directions in my head. Coach Capri had said it so many times over the past weeks, I wouldn’t be surprised if I mumbled it in my sleep.
I finished her directions in my head. Coach Capri had said it so many times over the past weeks, I wouldn’t be surprised if I mumbled it in my sleep.
Amazingly enough, these handstands came easy for me. Probably because of all the PT conditioning I’d been through since joining the Specialists.
No wonder TL insisted on PT. It made the physical part of training for a mission go much easier.
Now back handsprings on the other hand—I’d yet to nail one.
Beaker and I brought our arms straight over our heads, slid our right toes out, came toward the floor with our hands, and lifted our legs straight up.
Behind me, David lightly grasped my hips.
“Perfect,” Coach Capri complimented us. “In sync. Nice job. Now hold for twenty seconds.”
I fixed my gaze to a spot on the other side of the barn, concentrating on keeping my body tight, locked, and steady. Trying not to focus on the fact that David’s eyes were in line with my butt.
"GiGi, you’re not squeezing a penny.”
Closing my eyes, I pretended not to hear Coach Capri.
"GiGi, squeeze a penny.”
Through my nose I exhaled a sharp breath.
Why me?
Why me?
"GiGi, you squeeze a penny now or you’re going to hold that handstand for twenty minutes instead of twenty seconds.”
Opening my eyes, I glared at that same spot across the barn . . . and then I squeezed my butt cheeks together as if I had a penny between them.
I tried hard to block out what David must be looking at right now. I tried hard . . . and failed.
“Okay, down for ten,” Coach instructed.
Beaker and I lowered our right feet and came back to a standing position, our arms stretched above our heads.
I kept my eyes focused on the floor as I waited for the ten-second break. I knew if I looked at David, I’d die of embarrassment.
“And up,” Coach Capri said.
We executed perfect handstands again, squeezed a penny, held for twenty, down for ten.
Again and again we repeated it until I didn’t think I could hold a penny anywhere.
We brought our feet to the floor, and Coach Capri stood. “Let’s take a short bathroom break, and then we’re on to back handsprings.” She jogged across the barn and out the door.
Beaker grabbed her towel and wiped her face. “I’d better have a good ass after all this is over with.”
David laughed.
“I’m going to get some water.” Beaker trotted across the barn and out into the night.
Still avoiding eye contact with David, I picked up my towel and folded it. Maybe I should go get some water, too. Or go to the bathroom. Anything to get out of here.
In my peripheral, I saw David.
“Nice pinched penny,” he said, looking at my butt and chuck-ling as he walked past.
I smiled. I couldn’t help it.
After Three weeks of Training and preparing, we were ready for the mission. David and I got to the conference room early for the team briefing. I placed a stack of folders neatly in front of my seat, waiting on Parrot, Beaker, TL, Chapling, and Nalani to arrive.
TL had requested that David conduct this meeting as part of his overall training in becoming a strategist. It felt good knowing David would be in charge. I felt like I was getting a little bit of a break. A lot of pressure came with being the leader. Put that together with training for the mission and going to school, and my life remained beyond busy.
Give me a computer and solitary research any day.
I sat down at my place and let out a long breath, my gaze drifting to the folders stacked in front of me. A folder for every person involved. Every individual who would help me bring my parents’ killer to justice.
Slowly, I lifted my finger and trailed it along the spine of the top folder. What if things didn’t work out? What if Eduardo got away again? What if, after my hard work, my team’s hard work, things still didn’t come to fruition? I’d let David down, TL. I’d let my team down. I’d dishonor the memory of my parents.
My parents . . .
I closed my eyes as their faces drifted through my head. That time my dad caught a green garden snake and teased my mom with it. She’d giggled and ran around the yard like a crazy woman. And that time they found me hidden behind the couch, waiting for Santa. The tent my dad made out of a sheet. We’d all slept under it in their bedroom. And that ridiculous hat my mom always wore when she cleaned house.
I closed my eyes as their faces drifted through my head. That time my dad caught a green garden snake and teased my mom with it. She’d giggled and ran around the yard like a crazy woman. And that time they found me hidden behind the couch, waiting for Santa. The tent my dad made out of a sheet. We’d all slept under it in their bedroom. And that ridiculous hat my mom always wore when she cleaned house.
“Shhh.” David massaged my shoulders. “It’s okay.”
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