An Encounter in Atlanta Part 14

Chapter Fifteen

Cade woke to the sounds of a phone ringing and pounding on a door, groggy as h.e.l.l and thoroughly disoriented. His watch read almost six o'clock. When he tried to stand to go to the door, he staggered and fell back on the bed.

Dizzy as h.e.l.l, too, and weak as a kitten. He made another effort to stand up and headed for the door again. When he turned the handle, John and a guy from Phil's team seemed startled to see him, then John rushed forward and steered Cade back into the room. The other guy closed the door and followed.

John sat Cade down in the chair by the desk as the other guy answered the phone and said, "Yeah. He's here. I think he might be sick, though. Yeah. Okay."

Turning to John, the guy said, "Doc Crandall's got the duty today. Do we need him?"

Glancing up, John said, "Don't know yet. Stand by."

Facing Cade, he asked, "Cade, what's wrong with you?"

With a terse shake of his head, Cade said, "Just woke up, that's all."

"You look as if you've just climbed out of your grave."

Looking up, Cade said, "Well, gee, thanks."

The guy on the phone snorted a laugh as John studied Cade's face rather critically.

"I'm okay, John," insisted Cade, "Just tired, I guess."

"Just like that, you got tired?"

Shrugging, Cade said, "Guess so. You know I was up late."

Checking his watch, John said, "Well, then, you've got most of an hour to get to the ops room. Tonight's Mandi show starts at eight and we want everybody in place ahead of time."

"She's back?"

"Yeah. She's going over a few things with Phyllis."

Nodding, Cade said, "Okay. Half an hour. Got it."

"You sure you're okay?"

Sighing, Cade stood up, spread his arms, and said, "Hey, I'm up and I'm dressed. I'll be there."

Once he was alone, Cade made himself a wakeup coffee and downed most of it on the spot. A look in the mirror confirmed John's appraisal; Cade looked as if he'd risen from a sickbed. He felt that way, too; dog-tired and faintly trembling, he turned on the shower and shed his clothes.

The shower seemed to help a bit. Cade leaned against the wall and did several fast pushups under the spray to get his blood moving a bit faster.

As he turned to face the spray he used some of it to rinse the staleness out of his mouth and discovered an intense thirst. After drinking what seemed like a gallon of water, the thirst eased somewhat and Cade finished was.h.i.+ng up.

His coffee seemed to beckon to him as he dried himself. Cade slugged down what was left of the stuff and made a fresh cup, then went to get dressed.

Before he had his s.h.i.+rt b.u.t.toned, the new cup of coffee was gone and he craved more.

"What the h.e.l.l..?" he muttered, realizing that he'd felt the same way about the water in the shower.

Glancing at his watch, he realized he might not have time for any sort of dinner, which was all it took to make him feel ravenously hungry. He went to his backpack and took out one of the two big cans of chicken soup and a P-38 military-issue can opener that he kept in the bottom compartment.

One can wasn't enough. Not even close. A few minutes later both cans were empty and Cade didn't feel as if he'd made much of a dent in his hunger. Someone knocked on his door and Cade went to open it.

A guy in a hotel jacket said, "Room service," and wheeled a cart into the room.

"I didn't order room service."

"No, sir. A woman placed the order." Holding up a ticket, the bellhop showed it to Cade and said, "It's already paid for, sir; charged to another room, but to be delivered here."

By this time the smell of a steak dinner had wafted up from the cart and Cade suddenly didn't give a d.a.m.n who'd sent it or why. He took the ticket and tossed it on the cart as he reached into his pocket for a tip.

"Yeah, great, thanks," he said quickly, tipping the guy and reaching for the cover on the oversized center platter.

When he lifted the cover, Cade found not one steak, but three, and they weren't the usual ten-dollar restaurant servings. These were big slabs of meat surrounded by potatoes, carrots, green beans, and more. Beside the tray lay only one set of silverware wrapped in a hotel napkin.

Cade's cellphone rang and he went to the desk for it.

Thumbing it on, he said, "Cade."

With a chuckle, Mandi asked, "Has your dinner arrived yet?"

"Just now, but they may have screwed up downstairs. There's enough food here for three people, but there's only one set of silverware and no plates."

Chuckling again, Mandi said, "No, they didn't screw up. I knew you'd wake up hungry, so I sent up a fairly standard conversion meal. I need another fifteen here before I can get loose. Save me a few bites, will you?"

"Mandi, what's a conversion and...?"

She interrupted him with, "Oops, gotta go. I'll tell you all about it later, okay? Bye!"

Realizing she was no longer online, Cade thumbed his phone off and said, "Yeah. Right. Bye," as he set it back on the desk. Conversion? What the h.e.l.l..?

The smell of the food was almost overpowering. Cade decided he could wonder about things as he ate and headed for the food cart. Most of the way through the vegetables and the second of the huge steaks, he paused to set aside about a regular meal's worth of food, then continued eating.

When nothing was left but the food he'd set aside, Cade took the knife and fork to the sink to wash them and put them by the tray, then put the lid back on it and went to brush his teeth and comb his hair.

The vague trembling had left him and he felt a lot better, but Cade still felt a bit disoriented and confused. Between the soup and the steaks he'd put away enough food for half a dozen people, but he didn't feel as if he'd had more than an average meal. In fact, just thinking about that last bit of steak in the other room made him wonder if Mandi could make do with an apology and a late dinner after her show.

The room's hallway door opened and Mandi said, "Thanks for remembering to tell the desk to give me a room card."

Moving to join her in the main room, Cade asked, "After last night, how could I forget?" Indicating the covered tray, he said, "I saved you some dinner, as requested. Are you going to tell me what you've done to me?"

Trying to look shocked and hurt, Mandi asked, "What? No h.e.l.lo kiss? Don't you want to hear about my day?"

Cade took her in his arms for a kiss, then said, "Of course, milady. Tell me all about your day, but tell me later. Right now I want to know what's happening to me."

Mandi shrugged and said, "You're changing. It's nothing to worry about, but the conversion takes a lot of energy and ma.s.s. That's why you were so hungry."

"I'm still hungry. Your dinner almost disappeared."

Smiling, she said, "But now the hunger's more manageable and you can get by until after the show. Right?"

She stood by the cart as she sliced the steak and vegetables into bite sized chunks and sprinkled salt and pepper here and there to her liking.

Unable to remember ever having read or heard anything about people changing due to a.s.sociation with Mandi, Cade asked, "Just what kind of change are we talking about?"

Without looking up from her efforts, Mandi said, "You're going to become sort of like me."

With a deliberately noisy sigh at her seeming inability to release any details, Cade replied, "Not blonde and stacked, I hope. That could take a h.e.l.luva lot of getting used to at this point in my life, you know. Could you be maybe just a little more specific, Mandi?"

Glancing up with another chuckle and smile, Mandi said, "Nothing quite that outrageous. You're being upgraded, that's all. You'll be bulletproof or close to it. Stronger. Faster. Like that. Don't worry, you won't need a new wardrobe, as much as that may actually be a good idea."

Her grinning gaze traveled from his boots to his s.h.i.+rt as he said, "I'm going to let your sartorial commentary pa.s.s. What did you do to me to make this -- change --happen?"

Chuckling around some potato, Mandi said, "I didn't do anything to you. You did it to me." Sticking her tongue out at him and waggling it, she pulled it back in and said, "Like that."

Sitting on the end of the bed, Cade watched her fork up another bit of steak as he tried to figure out what the h.e.l.l she was telling him. Like what? Was she saying she'd given him some kind of disease? All he'd done was lick her silly in the shower. How could doing that..? He felt like checking his tongue in the bathroom mirror.

"Are you about ready to go?" asked Mandi.

Looking up, Cade saw the food was gone. Mandi stood up and pushed the cart toward the door. Cade slipped into his shoulder rig, grabbed his cellphone, and put on his jacket.

"Yeah, ready," he said. "I'd still like to know..."

Mandi walked back and kissed Cade to silence him.

"Later," she said, "After the show," and she led him by the hand toward the hallway door as she added, "Just be careful when you handle things tonight.

You'll be a little stronger than you're used to, so avoid handling people in particular."

"Stronger. Right. Oh, h.e.l.l, Mandi; on-the-job is the worst possible time to have to learn new tricks or adjust to anything. How much stronger are we talking about?"

She opened the door and pushed the cart into the hall without releasing Cade's hand, which meant that he followed when he might have stopped to ask more questions.

Cade was thinking in human terms, which didn't prepare him at all to hear, "If you follow the norm, by ten or so you'll be able to bench press a couple of tons, give or take."

"Tons?! The norm?! There's a norm?!"

Putting the cart against the wall, Mandi gave him a quick kiss and grinningly said, "Yeah, there's a norm." With a chuckle she asked, "Gee, mister, did you think you were my very first?"

Laughing, she hauled him toward the elevators. John came out of the ops room and waved, said something to someone in the room, then moved to join them.

"John doesn't know," whispered Mandi, releasing Cade's hand, "And he doesn't need to know. No more questions for now, okay?"

Meeting her intent gaze for a moment, Cade nodded slightly as John caught up to them. John handed him a 'staff' convention badge and a tiny radio with an earpiece and a lapel mike, then they began walking again.

"We're all set," said John. "Frank called a friend and rented some blondes to fill out the..." At Mandi's sharp glance he hastily explained, "They're actors, Mandi. Frank's friend is in the talent business. He called one of the union reps here."

They reached the elevators and Cade pressed the call b.u.t.ton as Mandi said, "Knowing Frank, that isn't terribly rea.s.suring."

John laughed and agreed with her, then continued, "Yeah, but we wanted a full stage. They don't look like hookers, so even if that's what some of them are, they'll do. There'll be about twenty other spur-of-the-moment contestants unless they've added some since six o'clock."

Cade asked, "How did you come up with uniforms?"

"The superstore near Ft. McPherson. White bathing suits, boots and blue spray paint, red fabric, and gloves. Phyllis and agent Vocce took the girls to room 439, said that making their own uniforms was part of the job, and put them to work. One of them started to object, but the one who brought her kid along said that sewing and painting for a few minutes would beat the h.e.l.l out of waiting tables tonight. They all stayed."

"Waiting tables?" asked Cade, "That one doesn't sound like a hooker. She brought her kid? Couldn't find a babysitter?"

Nodding, John said, "You got it. No problem, though. The convention has a babysitting room so parents can attend panels and the like without disrupting them. All we had to do was get her a day pa.s.s 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 pa.s.s to next year's convention, and some publicity. Second prize is a free pa.s.s and two-fifty. Third is one-fifty and a free pa.s.s." 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."