In the car, Jack nudged Captain DeVar. ''I hope you have some ideas on this, because if you don't get ahead of that woman, we're all going to be racing to catch up, and I'm not at all sure we'll like what we're racing into.''
''Yeah, I think you're right,'' the captain muttered, then called out the window. ''Becky, Trish, I think we're going to need that decoy stunt you've been talking about for so long.''
''Whoopee!'' came from the next car, as a white T-shirt came off and a knife came out. A moment later, the shirt was back on, a door opened, and a woman Marine wiggled her way out of the car. Not much of the shirt was left, what with the sleeves hacked off, the neck now much more open, and a whole lot gone from the bottom.
A second later, the redhead pulled her bra out from under the remnant of the shirt. To wolf whistles from the Marines in the cars around her, she wiggled, showing she had the right curves in all the right places. She held every male eye.
Well, maybe she shared those eyes with the short blonde who joined her.
''As you were,'' the blonde growled under her breath. That brought laughs.
''What we women do in the line of duty.'' The redhead sighed.
''Abe, Hamma, trail the girls. You know what to do when the guards get distracted.''
Two of the shortest members of the company, in white tees and baggy slacks of the latest fashion: one plaid, the other checkered, sauntered after the women as they sashayed off.
''They big enough to take down those guards?'' Kris asked.
''They're Marines, ma'am,'' Captain DeVar said. ''The guards will go down. And if their eyes are where I suspect they'll be, they won't even know what hit them. Now then, my fabulous Nelly, I know those guys are not paying a lot of attention to the monitor, and the pictures on the monitor regularly go blank, but is there anything you can do to encourage it to be on the fritz when I want it on the fritz.''
''Fritz,'' Nelly said. ''Interesting word. And yes, while most of you were watching those poor girls turn themselves into sex objects, I was launching new nanos.''
Kris found herself staring at two wide-eyed Marine officers. It looked like Nelly was entering a feminist stage of her development. Just what Kris needed, more interesting behavior from her pet computer.
''What kind of new nanos?'' Kris said, keeping the discussion on what would help Gramma Ruth.
Jack shook his head. We need to talk, he mouthed silently.
''My new nano will access the feed line from the cameras. They are protected and alarmed against just such an intervention, but, if Auntie Tru and Sam are as smart as they think they are, I just may be able to get in there.''
''Please leave me alone for a moment,'' Nelly ordered.
Kris turned back to Captain DeVar. On his battle board he was lighting up cars, giving them assignments to the front or back door and the order for their arrival. ''First go in troops that your maid gave spider-silk undies to. The very first have ceramic plates. The unarmored go in last.'' He tapped his board. ''Drivers, stay in the rigs. Move them out of the way for the next one coming. I don't want to see a stack-up of unloading or empty rigs at the doors.''
No reply came back, but around the drive-in, heads nodded to the orders.
''What about me?'' Kris asked. ''I'm fully armored.''
''Last,'' DeVar spat. ''If I thought I could make you.''
Kris shook her head.
The captain glanced at Jack. ''Can you make this woman see reason?''
''She's a Longknife,'' Jack said with a shrug. ''Reason is not something they're noted for.'' He did lean over to look up at Kris. ''For God's sake, woman, do not try to be first in. So help me, God, I will personally trip you up if you try.''
''You'd have to be ahead of me to trip me,'' Kris said.
''I am so glad that she's not in my chain of command, or I in hers,'' the Marine captain said with a groan.
''Where will you be in the assault order?'' Kris asked the company commander.
''If I wasn't in the same car with you, I'd fit myself somewhere in the middle.''
''Sounds like a reasonable place for me,'' Kris said.
Jack eyed her in open shock. ''Who are you, and what have you aliens done with my primary?''
''My two women are about to walk past the doors,'' Captain DeVar noted. ''Drivers, start you engines. Let's make this look good and not do anything that will get the neighbors talking.''
Kris edged around the door, DeVar leaned his seat forward a bit, and she slid into the back.
Around Kris, some cars took off in a squealing of tires and similar teenage panache. Others left at the sedate pace you'd expect of a respectable family car. Two old hulks chugged and smoked, but got under way. In a moment, the lot was empty.
''Jack, are you going to stay with the car?'' Kris asked, just as Jack backed the sports car out…squealing tires burning rubber. Gears ground as he changed into drive and took off like a rocket.
Once Kris had recovered from being thrown hard against her seat belt, and then deep into a seat way too small for her…or anyone for that matter…he grinned at her in the rearview mirror. ''Wait until you see what I have planned, honey cakes.''
What was it about bright red sport cars that cut the male IQ in half? Kris thought, but didn't say. Jack was getting her to Gramma Ruth.
Assuming he didn't kill her in traffic.
''Front door guard is down.'' came over the net.
''Back door is down.''
''Rig one is unloading.'' came almost immediately, followed by rig two through five about as fast as notice could be given.
That made it time for Jack and Kris.
The ragtop on the sporty thing folded back.
Jack mashed the gas pedal and his little red rocket took off for the space by the front door just vacated by a station wagon.
Then Jack did a hard left turn. There were two large pickup trucks parked parallel to the curb across the street from their target. Jack brought the sports car to a hard stop, nose to the curb, its side doors with at least an inch between them and the front of one truck, the tailgate of the other.
Kris was on her feet, sliding herself over the tiny trunk and running for the door before the car even stopped swaying.
Jack and Captain DeVar were only a step behind her.
''A fine bit of driving,'' Kris called over her shoulder.
''Don't get a chance to do something like that nearly often enough.'' Jack chortled.
''Let's hope you don't need to do something like that for a very long time,'' Kris shouted back as she charged through the door and into the hot shadowed cavern of the warehouse.
''She dishes it out,'' Jack growled, ''but she can't take it.''
Inside, Kris started to ask where to go, but green chem lights lit a path. She followed.
NELLY, WHAT ABOUT THE BUGS? ARE WE UNDER OBSERVATION?
I AM TAKING DOWN THEIR BUGS AND SENDING MY OWN REPORT. THEIR BUGS SEND A RECOGNITION SIGNAL EVERY SIXTY SECONDS. THAT IS ALL THE TIME WE HAVE.
''We got sixty seconds before they notice their bugs are dead,'' Kris reported.
''I'd planned for only thirty seconds,'' DeVar replied as they took the stairs two or three at a time.
The hall before Kris was lined with Marines in civvies, armed with automatics mostly, but a few had M-6s. They awaited their captain's orders.
Captain DeVar signaled to four M-6 gunners. They and a pistol-armed sergeant moved to the head of the line.
SOMETHING IS SPOOFING THE NERVOUS GUY, Nelly told Kris.
Kris slowed down to glance at Captain DeVar's battle board. The scene in the hostage room was getting rambunctious. The calm fellow signaled to the shooters to put their guns back together and for two of them, the ones closest to him, to check the door.
''It's going down,'' Captain DeVar said, alerting his team in a soft voice.
The four Marines closest to the door moved farther down the hall, leaving room for the new, heavily armed arrivals.