little green man leaning out of the cockpit to smilingly wave at the reader. Bartow and Evans had already been helped to the ambulance and Royce and Davies had replaced them. Carter tapped Cade's arm to get his attention, then pointed at his now-clean doorway. He nodded and stepped over to take his position before the doors. Cade said, "Some people saw me grab the MAC when I opened the door." "We know," said Carter. "John's got someone on them. Are you okay, Cade?" With a shrug, Cade said, "I could use a coffee." Nodding, Carter said, "Yeah, me, too. Later, Cade. Good job," and turned to head back to her camera room. Fifteen minutes or so later, Cade heard the announcer hand out the prizes for first, second, and third place. The other contestants were heartily thanked and given surprise consolation prizes in the form of twenty-dollar dealer's room gift certificates, then the band cranked up. Through Cade's earpiece came, "Open the doors now," and he kicked the stops back up on his doors, opened them, and stood to one side of the alcove as people left the ballroom. It was a short rush of people; some headed for the restrooms or the escalators, but most of those gathered in the ballroom remained seated because the evening's entertainment would continue until around midnight. Maybe ten minutes later John made his way to Cade through the swarming people and eyed the alcove for a moment before he said, "Both backpacks were full of plastique. It didn't really matter which one got through." "Kinda figured that." "Carter's people had cameras on the doors. I've seen what happened. Good job, Cade." Another damned 'good job'. Cade wished someone would -- maybe just once -- say something original, or even just 'well done', but he nodded as he replied, "Thanks. What now?" "For you? Nothing, unless Dante or Carter have questions about what happened. Head to the ops room and file a report, then you're off duty. Mandi will be along after they finish with the news people and convention photos." "How'd she do? Fourth? Fifth?" Trying to look as if he hated to be the bearer of bad news, John said, "Sixth, I think. Sorry. She just doesn't look enough like Mandi Steele. Won herself a consolation prize, though." With a grin, Cade said, "Big deal. That's like 'Everybody Gets A Ribbon' day at an elementary school." Through his earpiece came Davis's, "John, Danvers needs a word with you." Shrugging, John said, "Duty calls. See you later. Don't forget that report before you sign out for the night." Cade nodded and took his earpiece off as he headed for the escalators. Stopping in the lobby for a free newspaper at the luggage desk, he took out his reading glasses and scanned the news, then dug out the comics as he waited for an elevator. On the fourth floor he took his glasses off, dropped the newspaper in his room, and headed for the ops room, where he used one of the computers to fill out a report form. As he was typing the last of a general description of events as he'd experienced them -- and making a point of mentioning the door closing hard on Nassir's wrist -- he felt Mandi's presence nearby and looked up as she entered the room. He waved and smiled, she waved and smiled, then Cade turned back to typing and quickly finished the description and the report and printed copies for signing. Mandi came to stand by the desk "So you type, too?" she asked, "How fast?" "About sixty these days. John said you came in sixth." She sighed with mock regret and said, "Yeah, I just didn't look enough like me, I guess. Close, but no cigar." As he signed the forms, Cade said, "Poor little you, milady. May I buy you a late dinner to ease your pain?" "Getting hungry again, huh?" "Yup." Lowering his voice, he said, "I found out what you meant by 'stronger' a while ago." Matching his near whisper, Mandi smilingly leaned close and said, "Yes, I know. I was watching you. Those doors are only made of wood, you know." Not particularly surprised that Mandi could see through things, Cade nodded his understanding, finished signing the forms, and stood up to take them to another desk. When they arrived in Cade's room, Mandi headed for the fridge as she said, "There were no Atlanta police in the lower lobby, Cade. Not in uniform or out." Nodding, he said, "I noticed that, too." Opening a soda, she asked, "Why?" Cade watched her sip the drink for a moment as he decided how to handle her question, then said, "Likely because they were asked not to be there." After meeting his gaze for a moment, Mandi said, "A man was shot. Killed. Rightfully so, under the circumstances, but isn't that a matter for the local cops?" "I'm not going to worry about it, Mandi. If you feel that something's not right, you'll have to talk to John." She shook her head and said, "No, what I meant was; how is it the Atlanta cops weren't involved?" Reaching for a soda of his own, Cade said, "Mandi, I think some long-standing rules are being bent. The terrorists are operating as small cells. They can scatter like cockroaches and pop up again anywhere, anytime, with explosives. We need more and better info about them, and I think Hassan's going to tell whatever he knows before the legal system gets him." "A secret interrogation?" Nodding, Cade said, "Very likely. Drugs, not torture. They're quicker, more effective, and they don't leave marks." "And you're okay with that?" "In Hassan's case, yes. He was caught with a backpack full of plastic explosive in a downtown Atlanta hotel and he was trying to get into a crowded ballroom to set it off. I flatly don't give a rat's ass how they get the info out of him. I also don't care whether the legal system gets him or not." "What about Constitutional rights?" Snorting a laugh, Cade said, "He was going to blow himself up, ma'am. His rights would have ended anyway. This way we may find out where he got the plastique, who funded the operation, who directed it, and more. If we turn him over to the legal system before we question him, we can only be sure we'll get his lawyer's name." Mandi parked her butt against the fridge and said, "I see. So the Constitution no longer applies to all?" "It should definitely apply to those who live by it. I'm personally not concerned about those who don't. The terrorists are all part of an insane religious cult, Mandi. They think it's their right and duty to blow themselves up in crowds." He paused to sip, then said, "As I see it, the Constitution is really only capable of helping civilized people live together in peace. Terrorists aren't civilized, so we need a different rulebook to deal with them, preferably before they explode themselves in our shopping malls and schools." Gesturing around the room, he added, "Or our hotels." "A lot of people would disagree with you, Ed. Not all Muslims are terrorists." "I know that, and I'm not suggesting that they are, but you don't see any Jewish or Christian or atheist suicide bombers, do you? Only Muslims. The terrorists are hiding among their own kind, Mandi, and their 'own kind' aren't being very cooperative about turning them in. That means that some innocent people will be unnecessarily suspected and investigated because they happen to know -- or be related to -- the wrong person. That'll happen no matter how anyone feels about Constitutional rights. I think it's better to make an apology when necessary and risk a lawsuit now and then than to have to send condolences to hundreds of families when some Hassan or Nassir blows himself up at a convention." Studying him, Mandi said, "Interesting. As much as you two are alike, John would have ended that with 'don't you agree?'" "That's because John likes to hear people agree with him." "And you don't?" "Oh, sure, but I don't really care. I may tell you my views, but whether you agree with them is your business." After another long look at Cade, Mandi said, "I see," and shifted off the fridge as she asked, "Are you ready to do something about dinner?" Cade also stood up and said, "Great idea." "Will they let you have one of the agency cars?" Shrugging, Cade said, "Sure. No problem." "Good. I think it would look better if we visit several fast-food places. It'll look funny if we order enough food for a party, then don't have a party. Especially if the food disappears." "Good point. Chances are good that someone would notice something like that on this floor." He paused, then added, "They keep pretty close track of the pool cars, too. Might be better if we just rented something. Or flew." With a wry grin, Mandi asked, "You want me to fly you from one burger stand to another?" "No, ma'am. We'd fly to where there are a bunch of them close together, like at beltway exits along the Interstate. Then we'd walk. No vehicle records to worry about that way." Mandi nodded. "Yeah. Okay. S
ounds good."
Chapter Seventeen
Mandi
Encounter in Atlanta Page 23