without disrupting them. All we had to do was get her a day pass to the con." The elevator arrived and they suspended the conversation until they arrived at lower lobby two and debarked. As they threaded their way through the crowd toward the ballroom where costume contests were held, Cade spotted the Brooklyn Klingon woman yet again. She carried a blonde wig and seemed in a hurry. "That's Chandra," said John. "When she saw us bringing in a vanload of blondes, she got curious. We put her on the payroll for this event to keep her quiet." "This is where I get off," said Mandi, pointing at a side door. "See you later, guys." As Mandi headed for the door, John said, "She'll put on one of our homespun uniforms and join the other contestants after Phyllis fixes her face." Cade gave John the fisheye and asked, "There's no way she can win, is there?" Shaking his head, John smilingly said, "Sorry, but no. The best she can hope for is third or fourth." "Have the judges already picked the winner?" Again shaking his head, John said, "No, just one loser in particular. We didn't see any need to fix things past that." "What's the prize?" "There are three. First is five hundred bucks, a free pass to next year's convention, and some publicity. Second prize is a free pass and two-fifty. Third is one-fifty and a free pass." He shrugged and added, "And our actors are getting a hundred bucks each, win or lose." Stopping by the second set of ballroom doors, John said, "This is your station." He grinned and added, "Since you slept through the regular briefing, here's your update, Cade. We're here to watch for bad guys." "Ha, ha," Cade said flatly as he put on the 'staff' badge and installed his radio gear. "I'll catch 'em for you, but you have to clean 'em." "Fair enough. We have people at the hallway doors upstairs, so anyone who shows up in this lobby is a bogey until proven otherwise. Carter'll let you know if she sees anything on her screens. All set?" "All set." Nodding, John said, "Later, Cade." Returning his nod, Cade said, "Later, John."
Chapter Sixteen
From his station at the ballroom doors, Cade almost didn't spot Mandi among the others when the women first paraded onto the stage. As his gaze passed over them, one of the women flicked her eyebrows at him and grinned. Cade studied her a moment longer, then nodded and grinned back. Phyllis had slightly altered Mandi's face and body in ways so subtle that Cade could only guess how she'd done it. All he could say was that she didn't look much like herself. When the ballroom had been filled to capacity and then some, the lobby was cleared and all the double doors were closed. Cade and the others stood in front of the doors. Slightly muffled by the doors, Cade heard the announcer blather for a while about the purpose of the event being to honor the woman who'd saved Atlanta, then footage of the event was announced, followed by a video playback of the previous night's car-juggling exposition. Apologies were made that Mandi, herself, couldn't be there, assurances were made that she'd receive a complete recording of the event, and the announcer wrapped up his stage time by turning the show over to a woman, who announced the three prizes to be awarded by the convention and segued the announcement into an introduction of the contest judges. At last they got down to the look-alike competition. Knowing the general routine each woman would perform, Cade could envision them strutting from the wings to model their outfits by turning around once, then moving across the stage to make room for the next contestant. The male announcer eventually came back on stage to say that there would be a brief pause as the votes were counted and introduced another display of Mandi Steele video footage with thunderingly loud, dramatic music. "Bogey on camera three," said Donna Carter's calm voice in Cade's earpiece. "The upstairs hallway. He came in through a side door and he's heading for the escalators. Computer says he's a ninety-five-plus face-match. Blue backpack, jeans, yellow shirt, white sneakers. He's wearing a 'staff' badge." "Everybody stay tight," Alan said unnecessarily, "He could be a diversion." "Another bogey... and another match," said Carter. "Again from a side door. Computer says he's definitely Mohammed Nassir from the red list. Blue shirt, green backpack. Jeans and gray sneakers. Another 'staff' badge." As the escalator carried the men into view, Pierce said, "The blue backpack belongs to one of the two Hassans on the orange list. His other hand's empty, so he's going to have to reach into the bag. Same with Nassir." The men on the escalator stepped off at the bottom and walked together for only a few paces toward Bartow's door before Hassan said, "I will meet you later. I must sit with some friends," and changed course toward the middle doors. "Hassan's heading for Cade," said Bartow. "Looks like we get Nassir. Evans, do it." "Copy," said Evans as he and Pierce stepped from concealment behind a table with a tall cardboard display and ran toward Nassir and Hassan. Hassan broke into a run and reached under his baggy shirt as he approached Cade's duty station. Cade drew his Glock and prepared to take him down if necessary as he watched Pierce approach Hassan from the side, but Pierce launched himself to land on Hassan and bore him crushingly to the floor over twenty feet from Cade's doors. Cade stayed in his doorway and looked to see how Bartow and Evans were faring with Nassir as Pierce struggled with Hassan. They weren't faring well. Evans had rushed Nassir, but Nassir had hopped into the air and kicked him in the face, then landed facing Bartow and dropped flat, kicking at Bartow's leg. There was a loud, sickening snapping sound and then Nassir was on his feet again and veering right for Cade with a MAC-11 autopistol aimed at him. Cade quickly backed deep into the doorway. Grinning as he rushed forward, Nassir thought that Cade had panicked and ducked inside the ballroom. He was wrong. As soon as Cade was out of Nassir's line of sight, he knelt as low as possible next to the wall and aimed upward at the space where Nassir seemed most likely to appear. The instant Nassir's rushing form blocked the light from the lobby, Cade fired twice so quickly the separate sounds of the shots were almost indistinguishable, then he dropped his Glock and heaved himself at the MAC-11, shoving it upward as he rose to his feet. The ugly little machine pistol sprayed the ceiling of the alcove, firing itself empty as Nassir pitched forward. Cade heard crunching sounds and felt bones collapse in his grip as his fingers met his palm around Nassir's thick wrist. From somewhere in his mind came the thought, 'Well, damn. She was right.' Cade continued his motion with Nassir's arm, glancing to see that the MAC's breech was open and showed no brass as he grabbed and opened a ballroom door to shove Nassir's gun hand through. Closing the door on Nassir's wrist, Cade threw his weight against the door hard enough to nearly close it completely, then yanked it open again to grab Nassir's gun hand and haul his arm and the MAC back into the alcove. A few screeches and a "Holy shit!" greeted him from people seated just beyond the door, but he ignored them as he re-closed the door and kicked the door stops down. Picking up his Glock, he checked Nassir for signs of life. There were none. Both rounds from the Glock had entered below Nassir's sternum only a few inches apart. Only one had exited his back; the other must have hit enough bone to stop it. "Cade here," he said into his lapel mike. "Nassir's dead." "Copy that," said Carter, stepping out of a maintenance room behind the escalators. "All clear. Help is on the way." With their sirens and lights off, two ambulances pulled up outside the lower lobby street doors. Two pairs of medics rushed into the lobby and were directed by Carter. An injection quieted Hassan almost instantly as two of the medics checked out Bartow. Cade got out of Carter's way as she marched toward him with a camera. She took a rapid-fire series of pictures of Nassir, zooming in on the MAC-11, his wrist, his face, and then circling his body once before she slung the camera on her shoulder. Turning to the medics, she said, "Okay, he's all yours," then she produced a man's handkerchief from her jacket pocket and used it to pick up Nassir's weapon. She moved to stand near Cade and look him over as the medics hoisted Nassir onto a gurney and pushed the gurney away. "Get any blood on you?" she asked. Turning completely around for her examination, Cade said, "Don't think so. He went down fast and hard." As he turned back to face her, Carter said, "You look clean enough to me. Let's get out of their way," and thumbed at the glass doors
to the street. Two guys with janitorial gear hurried across the lobby and began cleaning up the blood in the doorway. As soon as they'd finished, another guy covered the bullet holes in the archway ceiling with a large cardboard poster that said, "Keep looking up!" and pictured a spaceship with a
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