Moving Target

by Melissa Good

  Then Dar had shown up, and it all started going wrong.

  Just like always.

  She tucked half the money away in her jeans pocket and folded the other half, glancing at the scrap of paper with the Intercontinental's contact name. "Well, not this time." She informed the scribbling. "Now, where's that little Ruskie?"

  She opened the door to the communications office, but found it surprisingly empty. Every other time she'd come in she'd found the communications officer hunkered down over his desk, but this time the padded gray seat was barren, and she wasn't really one to look a gift horse in the mouth when it presented itself.

  With a grin, she slipped inside and locked the door behind her, pocketing the folded twenties she'd tucked inside her right hand. No sense in wasting her resources, eh? She sat down at the console table and picked up the phone, pausing to straighten out the small bit of paper before she composed herself to dial.

  She checked her watch. Only 3:45 a.m. in Europe, and she suspected her call would go unanswered. If it was a business number, though, she could leave a message and at least make some contact. She cracked her knuckles and paused briefly, considering what to say.

  Despite the fact that it went against most of her personality, marketing was what she'd chosen to specialize in. She thought about what might make a good 'hook' for the possibly stuffy, probably stuck up continentals on the other end of the phone.

  Should she be aggressive? That was her normal mode, and the mode she knew her rival felt most comfortable with as well. The only difference was, she admitted privately to herself, she'd never quite gotten that switch to sexy charm that Dar did so well--the one that could turn a frothing adversary into a drooling ape in roughly ten seconds.

  She definitely hadn't had that when they'd been dating. Shari had been shocked to find herself snared by it long afterward.

  So possibly not aggressive with the Euros. She turned her thoughts to something more productive. Her few contacts with overseas vendors had taught her they didn't really appreciate that American style approach, at least not very often.

  Respectful. Shari nodded grudgingly, then she dialed the number, and waited, listening to the foreign sounding buzz in her ear.

  THE DOOR LIGHT went off, and it opened so quickly afterward that it was obvious Michelle had started out before the session was over. One look at her face confirmed it, and if sparks really could fly from someone's eyes, the painted walls of the studio would have gone up in an instant.

  "Uh oh." Kerry brushed a speck of dust from her sleeve. "That doesn't look good."

  "Hm." Dar stood up as Michelle approached. "Problem?"

  "Multiple sessions of triple digit jackassedness." Michelle replied succinctly. "Good luck Dar. For once, I hope to hell you take your reputation to the absolute limit and eunuch those people." She sat down in the chair Dar had just vacated and sat back, one toe tapping on the concrete floor in agitation.

  "Hm." Dar shifted a little, unsure of whether to plant her hands on her hips or cross her arms to punctuate the statement.

  "Ms...uh...Roberts?" The girl with the pony tail interrupted her dilemma.

  Dar glanced over at her.

  "Could you come with me, please?"

  Dar put one hand on Kerry's shoulder, already sensing the motion as her partner went to stand up. "Depends," she replied.

  "Ma'am?"

  "I said, it depends." Dar repeated. "Tell your friends inside there I have no intention of coming out with an expression like Michelle's here. So if that's what they intend, forget it."

  The girl stared at her. "Ma'am?" She peered behind her. "Do you want to be in this show?"

  "No."

  "Excuse me?"

  "No." Dar began to wonder if the echoes in the big room were affecting the girl's hearing. "I don't want to be in this thing. So go tell those guys to either be civil or I'm outta here. Got me?"

  The girl disappeared, though before she left she gave Dar a look usually reserved for the mentally deficient. The door closed behind her, but the light remained off, and the room fell back into uncomfortable silence.

  "So." Dar addressed Michelle. "What's the deal?"

  Michelle's lips were twitching slightly. "You only get away with that because you're really the one they want to get, you know that, right?"

  "Sure."

  "Dar, you're not going in there by yourself." Kerry interrupted.

  "Listen, everyone else only had one representative." Dar told her, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. "If there are asses to be kicked, I can handle that."

  "That's not the point." Kerry got up. "This was my contract."

  And so it was. Dar inclined her head in concession. "True," she said. "Let's see what our little friend comes back and says."

  "They actually asked me where Shari was." Michelle supplied. "I didn't tell them. It seemed to piss them off." She eyed Dar dourly. "You--" She paused. "Okay, let me be honest. We screwed them over for their little happy ending, so now the deal is scandal in corporate America. Get the drift?"

  Dar cocked her head a little. "No."

  "They went after some pretty dirty details." Mike spoke up finally. "Brought up a deal that went south for us, two bloody years ago."

  "Skeletons, yes." Graham nodded. "Fortunately, most of ours are fairly benign."

  Kerry scratched her jaw. "Hon." She patted Dar on the side. "I don't think we have any skeletons left that aren't either tattooed on my chest or were featured on national television at least twice." She looked at the rest of them. "Really."

  "Hmph." Michelle snorted.

  Graham pursed his lips and shrugged.

  "You've got a skeleton tattooed on your chest?" Mike asked ingeniously.

  "Let's go." Dar decided she was over it. "C'mon." She took Kerry by the arm and started for the inner door. "Let's get this over with."

  THE PHONE WAS answered on what seemed like the thirtieth ring. "Intercontinental Holdings." A cultured voice echoed lightly through the phone. "How may I help you?"

  Well, at least it wasn't a cleaning woman. Or at least, she didn't think so. "Good evening." Shari replied. "I know it's very late there, and I apologize for calling at this hour."

  "Not a problem." The voice sounded a touch warmer. "We're quite used to calls at all hours."

  Oh, really? Shari found that interesting. "Ah huh."

  "The hostel business is round the clock, as it were." The woman clarified. "How may I forward your inquiry?"

  "Of course," Shari said. "I was hoping to speak with Sir Melton Gilberthwaite? I completely understand if he's not available, perhaps I can leave word for him with an assistant?'

  "Please hold one moment. I will see who's in at that location." The operator sounded almost cheerful. "I think they had a Far East meeting today, so let me just check."

  A soft classical tune began playing in her ear, and Shari sat back, wondering if luck wasn't coming her way at last.

  "LOOK, I DON'T know what the hell's going on, but I've got a schedule I need to keep." The woman with the pony tail was saying. "We've got this studio booked in an hour for a night shoot with MTV."

  Meyer gave her a look. "All right, hold your tits, sister. I'll get this straightened out." He brushed passed her and stalked toward the door. "Pain in the ass little..." He stopped short, nearly crashing into Dar as she came through the door with Kerry right behind her. "Oh."

  "Oh." Dar didn't even slow down. She came right up to him and poked him in the chest. "Oh, you've got about ten minutes of my time to wrap up your game, Meyer, because I'm not wasting one minute more than that on you."

  "Hey, wait a minute!" Meyer backed up a step. "Just who do you..."

  "You know who I think I am." Dar didn't let up. "So go over there and put up or shut up." She gave him a shove for good measure, aware of Kerry's close presence at her back. "Ten minutes!"

  Meyer was caught off balance, and so he gave way, turning and moving back toward the filming area. "Fine." He tossed back over his
shoulder. "Go with her. She'll get you ready."

  Dar studied the space. Inside a ring of lights and two cameras on dollies were two high director's chairs in dark fabric. It was all very stark and utilitarian, and to her eyes, profoundly depressing. "Hmph." She ignored Pony Tail and ducked between the two cameras, whose operators were staring at her in fascination. "Think you could spare a few dollars for fresh bed sheets for this?" She pointed at the backdrop, which had several tears held together with gaffers tape.

  Meyer just looked at her, then went back to studying a piece of paper, murmuring to a slim, gray haired woman standing next to him.

  "Okay...ah." Pony Tail hurried over. "Let's just get you, uh, both, uh, ready."

  Dar took a seat and leaned her elbows on the chair arms. "I'm ready."

  "Me too." Kerry hopped up onto the next chair.

  Pony Tail stopped short. "Do you want us to..." She made some vague hand gestures toward their heads. "Um. We usually want to do a little hair, a little makeup."

  "No, we're fine." Kerry responded in a kind tone. "But thanks anyway. If we crack the lenses, I'll give you a credit card."

  The girl shrugged, and walked off, shaking her head.

  The two cameramen started to fiddle with their controls, making the cameras bob up and down like some odd animals, moving in and out on where Dar and Kerry were sitting. Dar put up with the show for a minute, then cleared her throat. "Meyer? Nine minutes."

  Meyer's head jerked up. "Wh--oh, shit." He glared at Pony Tail. "You didn't say you were ready." He folded the piece of paper and straightened his jacket before he walked over to them, sitting down in a chair tucked up against where the cameras were.

  "They wouldn't let me do anything." Pony Tail shrugged. "But that works for me, because if you get out of here on time, I can go get some tacos before Gloria Estefan shows up." She signaled to one of the camera guys, who adjusted some lights and focused them on Dar and Kerry.

  "Forgot my sunglasses." Kerry lamented.

  "Please be quiet." Meyer instructed. "I'm going to start asking questions. I'll address you by name, and I expect the person I'm addressing to answer me."

  Dar chuckled softly under her breath.

  Meyer looked up. "Excuse me? Did you say something, Ms. Roberts?"

  "Nope." Dar interlaced her fingers. "But I will. So let's get started."

  Meyer gave her an unpleasant smile. "Hope you remember you said that, Ms. Roberts. Very well. Jenna, give me a clapper please, and we'll go."

  His assistant moved around in front of him and held cliché quality film clapboard before the camera. "ILS takedown, first pass," she said in an unemotional voice. "Action."

  "THANK YOU FOR holding." The woman's voice came back. "One moment, all right? Someone in that office can speak with you now."

  "Thanks." Shari glanced at the door, which had just issued some suspicious rattling sounds as though the handle were being tried. She drummed the fingers of her free hand on the desk, and hoped it wouldn't take as long for the next secretary to answer. Last thing she needed them to hear was a bunch of those ship jerks yelling.

  The line buzzed softly, then, thankfully was answered. "Good morning, Executive Operations. This is Patricia. Can I help you?'

  The door rattled again. "Good morning." Shari half turned away from the door. "Yes, if it's possible, I would like to speak with Sir Melton Gilberthwaite?"

  "Sir Melton's on a conference call at the moment." The woman answered promptly. "May I inquire as to what this is about?'

  Hm. Good question. "It's a business matter," Shari said. "I was referred to him in regards to one of his properties--to possibly provide some services."

  "Ah." Patricia cleared her throat. "I see. Well, I can't say when he'll be done. Perhaps you could leave your name and a contact number?"

  Damn, damn, damn. Shari glared at the phone in frustration. Not only didn't she know what telephone line the damn thing was connected to, she had no idea how long she'd have possession of it. "I'm between locations at the moment." She temporized. "Could you maybe give me an idea of when I might try back?"

  "Difficult to tell." The woman responded. "And there's someone waiting to speak with him here in the office. Perhaps two hours? He should have a few moments free before he breaks for breakfast."

  Shari made a face, her fingers tensing on the paper. "That could be difficult." She sighed. "Thanks for letting me know. Can I leave my name with you, at least?"

  "Of course." Patricia replied then hesitated. "Oh, wait. I hear them taking a quick breather. Maybe I can squeeze you in. Hang on." She put Shari on hold, leaving her to listen once again to transatlantic classical tunes.

  "C'mon, c'mon." Shari glanced over her shoulder, hearing now a definite rattle, and the sound of upset voices outside. "Shut up you assholes. There's no one you need to call this late and your porn sites will wait a few minutes."

  Vivaldi played on in her ear unrelentingly.

  Chapter Fifteen

  MEYER CLEARED HIS throat slightly. "Ms. Roberts."

  "That's my name." Dar responded promptly. "Next question?"

  Meyer waved his hand. "Cut." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Ms. Roberts, can you cut the bullshit, please?"

  "Why? You won't." Dar twiddled her thumbs. "Six minutes." She caught a glimpse of Pony Tail out of the corner of her eye, smirking at Meyer. "Want your quote or not?"

  The man sat back. "Roll." He rotated his finger in the air, waiting for the belated clap of the board as Pony Tail hurried back over and snapped it. "Ms. Roberts, your company's down thirty percent on contract renewals, your business outlook is lousy, and you've just spent a million dollars on a paper boat you can't even use to take pot shots at. What do you tell your stockholders, Monday morning?"

  Dar had seriously been expecting a personal attack, and now she had to stop and consider what kind of answer she could give to a legitimate business one.

  And it was legitimate, they all knew it. Even Kerry knew it. Dar could feel the sudden, small shifts of her partner's body close by, Kerry's unconscious fight or flight reflexes surging into action.

  So here she was, right down to it. No more time to bullshit, no more time to wonder what the hell to do, just time to put on display why Alastair paid her as much as he did.

  And why was that, exactly? Dar shrugged caution off to the winds. Hell, if she was going to go down, might as well go down in the biggest ass fireworks display she could come up with. "Me?" She inquired mildly. "I'm not going to tell them anything."

  Meyer leaned forward, his eyes glinting.

  "It's not my job to tell them anything." Dar cut him off before he could get another dig in. "My job is to take the company and its clients into the future of technology with confidence and competence, and that, Mr. Meyer, is exactly what I do."

  Nice sound bite. Kerry complimented her partner silently.

  "That doesn't answer that question, Ms. Roberts." Meyer replied mildly. "Because no matter who tells them, that answer comes from you. So, again, what is it you're going to say to justify what you did?"

  Okay, so Meyer was pretty good. "Do I have to justify it?" Dar asked.

  "Of course you do." Meyer answered, in that same, calm tone. "You're an officer in a publicly held company."

  "Exactly. So what if my explanation breaks the confidentiality clause that office holds me to?" Dar delicately pulled out her thinnest, sharpest rapier and probed with it. "Surely you can't expect me to do that."

  Warily, Mayer edged back. "Are you saying there is something you're holding back?"

  "Am I?"

  The man shifted, as though he wanted to get up and approach Dar. Dar merely smiled charmingly at him. There was doubt in his expression now, a frustrated wondering what Dar was up to. She knew she couldn't fence with him for long, but it was nice to have this one moment of sweet and very perceptible victory.

  "You are, and I think you might want to let us in on it, because you might not get another ch
ance, from what I hear." Meyer answered with a triumphant smile of his own. "So, I'll ask one more time, Ms. Roberts, what do you say to the people who trusted you with their money as to how you just squandered it?"

  Ball. Her court. Shit.

  Dar was very aware of Kerry's eyes on her, as well as the cameras, and suddenly she just relaxed and let the anxiety go. "What do I say? I say to them, count your dividends, ladies and gents. That million I tossed onto the table bought me back a deal from the new owners for a hundred times that, at least."

  Oh. God. Kerry listened to the outright lie and fought to keep her face from reacting.

  "Oh really." Meyer said. "Interesting, since I have it on great authority he doesn't deal with Yankees."

  Dar's eyes twinkled gently. "I ain't no Yankee." She drawled.

  "And we have many, many transatlantic partners." Kerry chimed in for the first time. "One of the great advantages we bring to our clients."

  Without missing a beat, Meyer pulled out his cell phone.

  "HELLO? YES, ONE moment please. I was able to get Sir Milton for you." The secretary sounded somewhat smug and pleased with herself. "It's only for a moment, though."

  "Perfect, that's all I need." Shari assured her. "Honest."

  The line clicked through, and she heard a deep throat clearing. "Hello?" She ventured.

  "Yes? Hello? What is this?" A gruff voice barked at her. "Who's speaking?"

  "Good morning, sir. Thanks for taking a moment to chat with me." Shari got out quickly. "My name is..." Her head jerked up as the door slammed inward, and the captain appeared with the communications engineer right behind him. "Ah, just a second..."

  "Get that." The captain pointed at the phone. "You men, take hold of her, and quickly."

  "Wait!" Shari got up and started to back away, but the engineer was too fast for her. He grabbed the phone, its end issuing broken snatches of puzzled outrage. "Wait! No! Stop!"