“Good-bye, Ozzie. Have a nice afternoon.” I walk away with my chin up and my cheeks blazing red, flicking my hair over my shoulder as I go. I can do this. I can be completely cool when my insides are melting like a bar of chocolate left in the hot Louisiana summer sun.
Lucky is coming down the stairs in my direction, when I reach the first step. He has a singlestick in his right hand.
“I hear you’re on the injured list,” he says, pausing when we’re at the same level. The weapon hangs at his side. He doesn’t even act like it’s there, as if it’s just a part of his outfit, like a belt or a watch.
Hmmm, strange. Do they use those upstairs? They must or why would it be there? I don’t say anything, because maybe that’s normal for them. Maybe they just walk around with weapons for no reason.
“Nah, no injured list for me,” I say, ignoring the pain that still racks my every muscle. “I’m fine.”
“You got the surveillance equipment up?”
“Yes, we did.” I grin with pride, glad to have something to talk about other than my injuries or lack of sex and the desire to have lots of it with Ozzie.
“Well done.” He gives me a fist bump. I think it’s the first one I’ve ever executed in my life. “Catch you tomorrow?”
“You’re done for the day?”
“Gotta go to the police station and talk to some detectives, so I’m going to miss the afternoon excitement.”
I glance back over my shoulder. Ozzie is watching us. “Excitement?” I face Lucky again, not sure I understand. I thought I was going upstairs for a meeting. The last one was interesting, but I don’t know that I’d call it exciting, per se.
Lucky glances at Ozzie and frowns for a second before turning his attention back to me. “Yeah. The progress briefing. We usually have them every couple days.”
I nod. “Oh. Okay. Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Hey, do you mind?” He holds out the singlestick.
“Mind . . .?”
“Taking this upstairs for me. I meant to leave it up there, but I guess I was distracted and kept it in my hand instead.”
I smile. “Oh, sure. No problem. Where do you want me to put it?”
He starts to grin and then stops immediately. “Give it to Dev.”
“Okaaaaay.” I narrow my eyes at him, trying to figure out why he’s trying so hard to appear serious when he clearly wants to smile. Examining the stick tells me nothing; it looks like it always does, about three feet long and an inch in diameter, thicker at the end where Lucky was holding it. I find it balances better if I hold it at that wider end too. It’s kind of heavy, but not so much that I can’t wield it. Maybe later I’ll ask Ozzie how to actually use it.
He hops down the last few stairs. “See you later.”
“Yeah, okay. Later.”
I continue up the stairs, stopping at the digital keypad by the door. Whose name was on this side of the door for the code? Was it Toni? I press in T-O-N-1, but nothing happens. Okay, so it’s not Toni’s door. That makes it . . . Thibault’s door? I press in T-B-O-1 and hear a click. Even though I know Ozzie’s down there watching me screw up, I smile. I did finally get it done, right? I’m not a complete nincompoop when it comes to this security stuff.
I pull the door open, and a flash of movement catches my eye.
“Hooraaaaaaaahhhhhhh!” screams a loud voice, a definite war cry.
Something silver flashes in front of my face, and a giant, white beast surges toward me.
I scream bloody murder and jump back, closing my eyes and swinging the singlestick out in front of me with all my frightened might, sore muscles be damned. I make solid contact with something.
“Oooph!” says a loud voice as the singlestick hits its mark.
I open my eyes and see Dev bent over, holding his middle. In his other hand he’s gripping a big sword that now dangles down by his leg.
“Did you . . .? Did you . . .?” I can’t even process what I’m seeing right away. Then I can and I’m pissed. “Did you just come at me with a samurai sword?!”
“I tried,” he says, grunting the words out.
I lift the stick up and whack him on the back of his shoulder with it.
“Aaaawwww, shit!” he yells. “What was that for?!” His back is arched and leaning on a diagonal as he twists away from the pain.
“That was for scaring the shit out of me, you idiot!” I drop the singlestick at his feet with a clatter and shove past him. “Here’s your stupid stick, dummy. Don’t ever do that to me again!”
He falls to the right when I push him, landing against the doorjamb and sliding down to the floor onto his side.
“Your reflexes are much better than I thought they’d be,” he grunts out, pain lacing his voice.
I’m almost through the room and into the kitchen when I answer him. “You just got your ass handed to you by someone you like to call Bo Peep. If I were you, I’d start questioning my ability to read people.”
Toni and Thibault are sitting at the table, grinning from ear to ear, when I enter the kitchen.
“You knocked him out, didn’t you?” Toni asks. She’s still smiling as she bites into a sandwich.
“No. I just tapped him.”
“Sounded like more than a tap.”
Dev comes limping into the kitchen, his shirt off. There’s a red welt on his stomach. “Do I have a bruise?” he asks, turning his back to the table.
I lower myself into a seat, trying not to feel bad about the welt that’s there too. It’s definitely going to hurt for a while.
“Not yet, but you will,” Thibault says. “I warned you not to sneak up on her.”
Pride fills my soul. Thibault believes I can’t be taken down with a samurai sword sneak attack? Cool. Maybe I am a badass after all. I take a napkin from the stack and select a sandwich from a tray of them in the middle of the table. I have no idea what it is, but I’m going to eat it anyway. I’m that starving. Something about having someone come at me with a sword, and yet living through it, makes me especially hungry.
“She needs training,” Dev says.
“I suggest you do some other kind of training,” I say, chewing a bite of what I’ve determined is a turkey sandwich. “Not sneak attacks.”
“Gotta keep your reflexes sharp.” Dev sits down and helps himself to six sandwiches. No one bats an eyelash at his appetite.
“Seems like your own reflexes might be getting a little rusty,” Thibault says.
“Nah. I had a sword. I didn’t want to use it on her. She’s not ready.”
I swallow a bit of sandwich that’s pretty much turned to sawdust in my mouth at his words. “Ready? You actually think I’ll be ready someday to be attacked by someone with a sword?”
“If I’m doing my job right, yeah.” Dev winks at me, his mouth full of food. “You’ll be all right. Trust the process.”
I shake my head while I take another bite. “You’re crazy.” I’m very rudely talking around some tomato, but I don’t care. Anyone who sneak-attacks me forfeits the right to enjoy my good manners. I have to admit, though, I am kind of excited about the idea of being that highly trained, but there’s nothing in me that wants to face a sword being used against me for real. I joined this team to take pictures, not fight ninjas, for God’s sake.
Ozzie enters the room and takes his seat at the head of the table. “How’d it go today?” He’s looking at Toni, so I keep my mouth shut. I’m glad she’s his focus, because I’m kind of worried about him addressing me directly. I don’t trust myself not to go all goo-goo eyes on him.
“Good,” she says, oblivious to my discomfort. “Got eyes on the back of the house. We’ll need to change the battery in a couple days on that one. The Parrot’s on the pole, so we have bird’s-eye. Bo Peep got some shots of someone who came outside while we were there.”
I pause my chewing. I probably should have brought that camera upstairs to the meeting so they could review the pictures I took. Dammit. Rookie mistake. Grrr, I hate that.