2. Payback

by Fern Michaels

  “I can go with that,” Kathryn guffawed. “Girl, when you get that dress on you are going to turn every head in the armory.”

  The surgeon in Julia leaned over to inspect Yoko’s face, trying to see what Alexis had accomplished without the aid of a scalpel. Her cheekbones were higher, her chin more defined. Her face was no longer round but elon-gated. The dark eyes were now a startling blue. Her nose that had been on the small side was now defined, the nostrils flaring dramatically. Her long, black, silky hair was swirled and coiled on top of her head and held in place with two ivory picks. “My dear, you would put Mata Hari to shame.”

  “Thank you, Julia. I have to practice walking now in these outrageous shoes. I hope I don’t kill myself.”

  The hours ticked by while Alexis worked her magic on the others. “I deserve a medal for this! Now if you don’t mind, I need to work on myself. Someone should call Myra and Charles to see if they approve.”

  “I’ll do it,” Nikki said as she pulled on a robe and left the room.

  When the door closed behind Nikki, the women started chattering again and as usual the talk centered on men.

  “That lets me out,” Julia said as she relaxed under Alexis’s spell. “Make me look like something other than a walking cadaver.”

  Alexis pretended to swat her the way the others pretended not to hear Julia’s comment. “When I’m done with you, you are going to be one ravishing, kick ass broad. Now, pucker up and let me get to work. If you get tired or if you just want to get up and walk around, let me know and we can take a break. It’s not going to take me long to work on myself. I’ll look like a long-legged Diana Ross in ten minutes.” No one doubted her for a minute.

  Another hour wore on as Julia dozed off and on in her chair. The others kept looking at her, hoping she’d make it through the night. No one realized how quiet it was until Julia opened one eye and smiled. “Stop worrying about me. I can do this. If I couldn’t, I wouldn’t be here. I’ll hold up my end. I know exactly what my role is and I won’t let you down. You’re all so kind to be so concerned. It’s been years since anyone really cared about what happened to me. You’re my family now. I’ll do my share this evening. Ohhh, I can’t wait to put on that gown. I can’t remember the last time I got really dressed to the nines.”

  The women relaxed but the concern stayed in their eyes. They would all look out for her during the evening. That was a given.

  “What’s the latest on Jack Emery? Does anyone know?” Yoko asked.

  Alexis stopped what she was doing and said, “Charles was like a scalded cat when the stuff hit the fan. Then he turned into a pussy cat so that tells me Myra’s call to the governor took care of things.”

  Yoko moved to the center of the room in her spike heeled, platform shoes and said, “Men like Jack Emery do not give up. He will find a way. What is that saying Americans have? Yes, yes, he marches to his own drummer. He will find a way to intrude into our lives again. That means we must always be vigilant. Did I say that right, Kathryn?”

  “Perfectly, kiddo. Before you know it, you’re going to be as American as apple pie. Keep practicing in those shoes or you’re going to fall flat on your ass. Maybe you should tape up your ankles or something.”

  “Can one of you hand me a secure cell phone? I want to call Mitch to tell him I’ll be there by six-thirty.”

  Isabelle handed Julia the cell phone from her pocket. Julia dialed knowing Mitch wouldn’t be able to trace the call. She crossed her fingers that he wouldn’t answer so she could just leave a message. She wasn’t that lucky, Mitch picked up on the first ring.

  “Julia, is that you?”

  “Yes, Mitch, it’s me. I’m just calling…”

  Mitch interrupted her before she could say anything else. “Jesus, Julia, I am so sorry about last night. I don’t know what the hell got into me. Listen, honey, I’ll make it up to you. I swear I will. I promise. Are you all right? Please say you forgive me. What the hell happened to that FBI guy? Did you smooth things over? They aren’t going to show up and cause a scene tonight, are they?”

  “No, Mitch, I’m not all right. You cracked my ribs. I’m all taped up. There are no plans in my immediate future to forgive you. I just called to tell you I’ll be at the armory around six-thirty. Give or take a few minutes either way. I don’t plan on staying long but I will make an appearance. As to the agent from the FBI, I don’t know his plans as he didn’t confide in me. Do the wise thing, Mitch, and back out now.”

  “Back away from the vice presidency of the United States? Are you out of your mind. I’ve lusted for this my whole life and you want me to withdraw my name. The answer is, no. Crawford is old, he could bite the dust in a year or so and I’ll be ready to step into his shoes. Are you on painkillers to make you say such a thing?”

  “Yeah, I’m on painkillers,” Julia said, clicking off the phone.

  Julia looked around the room. “OK, girls, my husband is fair game tonight! Anything goes.”

  “Oooh, I love it when you talk like that.” Kathryn laughed.

  “We’re all going in different limos, right? That didn’t change, did it?”

  Kathryn shook her head. “Nope. We’re each responsible for our own gear for this little caper. Murphy stays behind tonight. Charles and Myra are coming back here so they’ll take care of him till we get home. I think we’re ready to roll as soon as Alexis finishes up with Julia and does her Diana Ross thing.”

  “She’s done,” Alexis said softly. “Turn around Julia.”

  “Julia, you look…beautiful!” Yoko said, running over to the dresser for a hand mirror. “You will outshine every woman at the party.” This last was said so sincerely, Julia smiled and allowed herself to be hugged…very gently.

  “Just don”t go shaking your head too much or the hair strands will come loose. And, whatever you do, don’t stand under any bright lights. Your gown is padded in all the right places. Try not to move around a lot. We’ll all be within eye distance and earshot so if you want something just tug on your earlobe or something.” Alexis dropped to her knees and reached for Julia’s hands. “All I did was improve on something that was almost perfect to begin with. You’re a beautiful woman, Julia. I want you to believe that.”

  “And miracles happen every day. I overheard Charles telling Myra there’s a special place in Switzerland he wants to send you to. He said they work miracles for AIDS patients. Act surprised when he tells you, OK?” Kathryn whispered.

  They all looked away at the hope in Julia’s eyes.

  “Mum’s the word, girls. Dress up time!” Julia said. “We leave in exactly forty-five minutes.” She pointed to her satchel and medical bag sitting next to five heavily loaded backpacks that contained the tools of their new trade. Alexis’s Red Bag of tricks would be piled on top for Charles to carry down when the limousines arrived.

  The wind knocked out of him, Jack stared up at the two men towering over him. They were his height, his weight. He could probably take on one of them but not two. His gaze swivelled to Mark who looked like he was going to get sick at any minute. It was a wise man who knew when to fold and walk away. No one ever said he was a wise man. “What in the damn hell…”

  “Shut up, Emery. You talk when we say you can talk. One more peep out of you and you’ll be swallowing your teeth. Agent Lane, tell this pissant who we are and where our authority comes from.”

  Mark wiped at the sweat forming on his brow. “Jack, each year of the presidency, according to the instructions at the FBI Academy, the president forms a small task force, for want of a better term. It usually consists of two, sometimes three men. They only answer to the president himself. They’ve got carte blanche. That means they can snuff us out, walk away and nothing will ever happen to them. Are you following me here, Jack?”

  Jack nodded.

  “When you asked me to help you, I thought it was some kind of local stuff and I was just doing a favor for a friend. But this ain’t some kind of local stuff, Jack. These guys
work with MI6, Interpol and all that heavy duty spy stuff that goes on all over the world, stuff we never get to hear about. Right now, I just want to forget I ever knew you. I like my job and I want to keep it. You’re bush league, these guys are the big league.”

  Jack blinked but he didn’t say anything as he struggled to an upright position. In his life he’d never seen colder or deadlier eyes. What the fuck was going on? What did he stumble onto? More to the point, where did Nikki and Myra fit into this whole damn scenario?

  “You can talk now, Mr. Emery,” one of the men said.

  “That’s Assistant District Attorney Emery to you…sir.”

  “That still makes you a pissant. Now, tell us what you’ve been up to and why you’re harassing those nice folks out there in Virginia.”

  Jack’s mind raced. Common sense told him to opt for the truth. He told them in as straightforward a manner as he could. “I’m in law enforcement, I’m not paid to look the other way. Yes, I trespassed on Myra Rutledge’s property. But it was on my own time. I was trying to get enough evidence to do something about the Marie Llewellyn case and in the course of my search, I discovered those women who congregate out there are up to something else. I think they’re taking the law into their own hands. Vigilantes.” He felt silly as hell and he could see that the special gold shield guys weren’t buying his story.

  “Mark has nothing to do with any of this,” he went on. “I asked him for a favor and he helped me out. You want to cut off my dick, go ahead, but leave him out of it.”

  The men looked at one another. The first one shrugged. The second one smirked as he hauled Jack to his feet. “We’re going to be on you like white on rice from here on in, Emery. You get within a mile of those people at Pinewood and you’ll never be seen or heard from again. Remember, we answer to only one man. Right now that man doesn’t like you very much.”

  Jack saw the fist coming but couldn’t duck in time. At some point during the beating, he blacked out. When he finally came to, the gold shields were gone and Mark was bending over him, his face furious because he hadn’t been able to help his friend. There was blood everywhere. He picked up the phone to call 911.

  “No!” Jack croaked. “Help me up and out to my car. Then you can forget you ever met me.”

  “Jesus, Jack, what the hell did you stumble on to? Let me patch you up first. You should go to the hospital.”

  “No,” Jack croaked again. “Get me some aspirin and a couple of shots of whiskey. Were you telling me the truth about those guys? The president really has a goon squad? Damn, what would the American people think if they knew that?”

  “Jack, leave it alone for God’s sake. Don’t move till I get back.”

  In less than a minute, Mark dropped to the floor, and opened his first aid kit and cleaned up Jack’s face the best he could. “How are your ribs? Listen, Jack, I didn’t mean all that shit I was spouting before.”

  “Yes, you did. Don’t apologize. They got me in the gut and my kidneys. I won’t be able to have sex ever again. Where’s the damn aspirin?”

  “Here,” Mark said, holding out the bottle. “I’ll get the whiskey. I don’t think you’re supposed to take aspirin with whiskey, Jack.”

  “Sez who? Help me up.”

  “I can drive you home, Jack, and have a friend drop off your car tomorrow. Oh, shit, you aren’t going home, are you?”

  “No, Mark, I’m not going home. You don’t need to know where I’m going. Look, I’m sorry I got you involved. I won’t call you again. Take my number off your speed dial and don’t bother to send me a Christmas card. I’ll see you around.”

  Mark looked and felt like he was going to cry. “Listen, you crazy son of a bitch, you’re going to get yourself killed. How am I supposed to live with that?”

  “By pretending you never met me, that’s how.”

  Agent Lane’s eyes burned when the door closed behind his friend.

  Ten

  It could have been the Academy Awards with the glittering outfits, limousines, and hoards of reporters instead of a political turnout. The only thing missing was the red carpet and Joan Rivers. A light rain was falling when the parade of limousines from Pinewood drew up to the armory. The time was ten minutes past six when Myra Rutledge and Charles Martin exited the lead limo. The chauffeur held a huge golf umbrella over them as they scurried to the entrance, their invitation in hand.

  The others followed within fifteen minutes of each other. Julia was last to arrive. Her husband was waiting inside the doorway to guide her into the vast area filled with orchids and every flower and green plant known to man. Colorful balloons were tied to the rafters and to the backs of chairs to add to the festivities. There was even an ice sculpture of the American flag on the buffet table. Julia thought it matched the one on her husband’s ass except his was in living color. She said so, sotto voce.

  Having lived in Washington all her life she could pick out the Secret Service, the FBI and all the other security. She mentioned that, too. Tonight, though, they were equal. She, too, wore the tiny microphone on the sleeve of her gown. All she had to do was pretend she was touching her nose and speak into the gizmo on her wrist, just the way all the security spooks did. Even the little buttons in their ears were so hightech they couldn’t be detected. The sound was short of phenomenal, allowing them to hear a whisper from ten feet away.

  Mitch ignored his wife’s barbed comments. “Baby, you look sensational.” He looked around at the other women in the room. He appeared stunned for a moment. His wife was the best-looking woman in the entire room. She seemed to have picked up several pounds and in all the right places.

  “Don’t call me baby, Mitch. Save that kind of talk for your bimbos. I heard on the way here that the press is set to leak more info on you in the Post tomorrow. Back out now before it’s too late.” Her voice was colder than ice. Mitch opted not to notice.

  “That’s all garbage. It’s politics at their worst. But, if I ever find out it was you who is doing the leaking, you’ll regret it.”

  “Is that a threat, Mitch? If so, you might want to retract those words right now. By the way, I’m leaving you. Excuse me, I have to circulate. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Don’t even think about touching me or I might scream in pain with my cracked ribs. And, by the way, the leak in tomorrow’s Post is about that phony background story you made up on your life because you were ashamed of your own family.” She shivered inwardly knowing Mitch’s eyes were boring into her back.

  Julia started to gingerly make her way across the vast room only to see Isabelle and Alexis at her side to run interference as they jostled their way toward the buffet table.

  “There’s more security here than guests. I can spot those spooks a mile away,” Julia murmured. “Have you seen the Monarch family?”

  “Not yet,” Isabelle said.

  “Good God, Alexis, you really do look like Diana Ross, right down to that wild hair. From some of the looks you’re getting, I think the guests think so, too,” Julia said.

  “Well, that makes my day. The flowers are beautiful. Where in the hell did Yoko get all those wild orchids? By the way, where is she?”

  A roving waiter appeared with a tray balanced on one hand filled with plastic flutes of champagne. The women each accepted a glass and pretended to drink. No more than a few sips, Charles had warned. You need your wits about you tonight with all the security.

  “Myra is to initiate contact with the Monarchs and then she’ll introduce them to Yoko. That’s when it’s all going to come together. I saw Nikki a moment ago and I know she’s on the lookout for Jack Emery. I hate parties like this,” Alexis grumbled. “Ah, we made it to the buffet. Some big bucks went into this spread,” she said, smacking her lips.

  Music could be heard from a small combo. Typical “oldies” fare which meant warbling by Sinatra, Crosby and Como for the older crowd. The crowd with the open checkbooks. The acoustics were horrendous. Isabelle moved off to chase down Kathryn who was talki
ng to a fat lobbyist ogling her bosom. Alexis guided Julia to a less congested area on the far side of the buffet.

  “Here comes my husband,” Julia told Alexis. “Stay as close as you can. Pretend you’re eating or eat, just don’t leave me alone with him.”

  “There you are, darling,” Mitch said. “Come, I want you to meet Mrs. Crawford.”

  “Later, Mitch.”

  The senator clamped his lips shut but somehow managed to say the words, “Now, Julia.”

  Julia ignored him. “Oh, look, there’s Myra Rutledge. Now Mitch, that’s someone you want to meet. She has a war chest that just oozes money. Excuse me, I see our hospital administrator. I have to say hello. We have the whole evening ahead of us,” she called over her shoulder as she moved away, Alexis behind her. The senator was left with no other recourse but to smile and reach for a plate.

  “You did good, Julia. Your husband is sweating up a storm. I caught a glimpse of Governor Crawford and he does not look like a happy man. Do you suppose he’s heard about the next leak?” Alexis whispered as they continued their trek through the crowds.

  “Looks that way to me, too.”

  “Mrs. Crawford looks pretty young to me,” Alexis said.

  “They’re all young,” Julia said, sadness ringing in her voice. “They look good in photo ops. It’s a trade-off. They like the prestige, the glamour of the White House and all the crap that goes with it. They lunch with their friends, grouse about their old husbands and have little flings on the side. They never think they’ll get caught. The first Mrs. Crawford was a lovely woman, but she was plain, and she wouldn’t allow them to fix her up. If I remember correctly, her home in Maryland was known for the rosebushes she planted. She was active in PTA. A Mom. She was a real mom until they used her up and the governor found the present Mrs. Crawford. Everyone in this room has a story and none of them are family reading.”

  Towering at six feet, the Diana Ross look-alike surveyed the crowd. “Kathryn looks stunning. Do you think she’ll ever fall in love again? She took her husband’s death so hard,” Alexis said, hoping to wipe the sadness from Julia’s eyes.