Page 93 of Nightfire

Harry handed the frilly purse to Marisa. “I need for you to take this into the lobby for a few minutes please, Marisa. We need to understand if there is a bug transmitting Consuelo’s location in it.”

Marisa’s face cleared immediately. She was intimately familiar with all the tricks men could use to track down women they wanted to hurt. Harry didn’t need to explain any further.

“I’ll take it into the lobby and then into the outside hallway, just so you can be sure.” She looked at Consuelo. “No one but me will touch it, I guarantee it.”

Consuelo waved her away, swiping at her face with the heels of her hands. “I don’t care. All I care about is that maybe I have something on me that will let him follow me here.”

Marisa disappeared. The door whooshed behind her.

The LED light was still on, unchanged. Whatever was setting off the signal wasn’t in the purse.

Barney was standing in front of Consuelo, a dull red on his cheekbones. “Ma’am?” he rumbled. “It’s on your person. It has to be.” He looked helplessly at Harry and Mike, the blush turning stoplight red.

Barney was a certified sharpshooter, a sixth dan, and the company mechanic. He kept the RBK fleet of vehicles in perfect running order. He was a master at Close Quarter Combat and had an amazing collection of blues vinyl.

He also had difficulty dealing with women, particularly in the saying no department. Nicole, Ellen and Chloe ran roughshod over him.

Mike disappeared behind a door which he firmly closed behind him. In front of him was a panel with a keypad. He punched in a long string of alphanumeric digits and the panel opened. Behind it was a very large locker room filled with weapons, mostly Mike’s, and gear for every possible need. There was several hundred thousand dollars’ worth of stuff in there, every item catalogued.

Mike had no need to look around. The locker had been organized by him and he was definitely OCD when it came to weaponry and gear. He knew exactly what to get and where it was. He pulled it out, reset the code and alarm and walked back into the room.

This scanner was the latest model, both the audio signal and light signal sensitive to proximity.

Mike approached the woman, one hand open in the universal sign of peace, the other with a short titanium stick with a display just above the handle, looking a little like Harry Potter’s wand.

“May I?” he asked and she nodded, looking a little less freaked out.

Nicole opened her eyes suddenly. She was prone to tiny little naps during the course of the day and everyone let her rest. She took in the scene at a glance and held her hand out to Sam. Sam didn’t help her up so much as lift her up. Bless her, Nicole had realized that the woman might be uncomfortable, so she went to her and placed a reassuring hand on the woman’s shoulder.

The woman tried to smile, though anxiety was etched on her face. The closer Mike got, the louder the audio from the scanner. Something was on her, all right.

Mike started at the head and didn’t make it beyond the neck. The light pulsed and the audio signal grew to an annoying whine. The shirt?

“Nicole?”

Nicole smiled and approached the woman. She touched Consuelo’s white shirt, fingering the collar. “May I?”

The woman nodded.

Nicole gently brushed the woman’s glossy chestnut hair to one side to check the collar and froze. She ran her finger up the woman’s slender neck. “Uh guys? I think we have something here.”

Nicole lifted the hair up in a pony tail and pointed at a small red spot. “Consuelo, what’s that?”

Consuelo’s hand went up to touch her neck, her face blank. She blinked. “Oh, I completely forgot that. It’s a shot of some kind. some vaccine. All of us got one. Against STDs. And also birth control.”

Mike wanded her neck and the scanner practically jumped up and screamed there it is!

“I don’t think you got a vaccine jab, ma’am. I think you got tagged with a bug so they could know your whereabouts.”

The woman’s head whipped up so fast Nicole dropped her hair. It swirled around her shoulders. She was white-faced, shocked. “I have something inside me that tells them where I am? Oh my God, oh my God!” She twirled, frantic, trying to escape something that was in her body. “Get it out of me, get it out of me, get it out of me!” She was screaming and jumping up and down. “He’ll find me, he knows where I am right now, he’s going to come get me and take me back, oh my God, help me! He’s coming, he’s coming! Help me!”

A man of stone would be unable to withstand such levels of panic and none of them were made of stone.

“Quiet, ma’am, it’s okay. We’ll get you to a doctor⁠—“

“No!” she screamed. “Get it out of me now! Oh God, please get it out of me!” She was hopping up and down in a panic.

Harry stood still for a moment looking perplexed, very un-Harry like. He always knew what to do. Mike was at a loss, too. They had to get the bug out of her, but if she didn’t want to go to a doctor, what were they supposed to do?