Fast Track. Fern Michaels
Nikki looked at her adopted mother with disdain. “With those nails! They’re like spikes.”
Myra looked properly chastened. “So, dear, what you’re saying is she earns that rather large salary being Mr. Zenowicz’s…paramour, is that correct?”
“Oh, yeah,” the women chorused.
“Ladies, ladies, enough of this jocularity. Miss Rena Gold is your access to Mr. Zenowicz. It would behoove you to make nice. Mr. Zenowicz has some top-notch security, which he pays for himself. Those rather large men who followed him into the Fast Track establishment are his daytime security. He has a total of eight guards, who rotate every other day. Pictures of each guard are in your folder along with what is known about each man. I want you to familiarize yourself with all of the guards. Each one of the men is licensed to carry a firearm. I can’t as yet confirm this, but there is every possibility that, unbeknownst to Mr. Zenowicz, Miss Rena Gold has had several dalliances with one of the security guards. As yet that has not been proven. What is proven is she has no female friends. At least none that we’ve come across.”
Kathryn snorted again. “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Several more pictures of fresh-faced college girls appeared on the screen. Each one prettier than the next. In a word, wholesome, girl-next-door looks. “Two of the girls go to Georgetown University, two go to Catholic. At the moment, none of the four is of major importance.”
Charles cleared the screen on the plasma TV and took a deep breath. “What I’m about to show you next is not pretty, so all of you, take a deep breath. What you are going to see are pictures of the two countries that never received the funds Zenowicz promised.”
Picture after picture appeared on the huge screen, making it all the more horrendous. Starving babies, hollow-eyed mothers, emaciated fathers, dying grandparents. Naked toddlers eating dirt, their stomachs as huge as watermelons.
The women looked away, tears streaming down their cheeks. Charles wiped at his own eyes as he pressed his remote, and, blessedly, the screen turned black. “If you have even one qualm, one iota of distress that you’re doing the wrong thing by taking on this mission, those pictures should allay all your fears. What say you all?”
Nikki was the first to speak. “I’ve always thought that we here in this great country should take care of our own first. I still believe that. Ten million dollars is a vast sum of money, so let’s take a vote right now. Five million dollars stays here so we can do what we originally planned. The other five million goes to the World Food Bank with proper supervision. Or we could build schools. Any number of things. Five million dollars in countries like that will go a long way. If our mission is successful, then the monies earmarked for these two countries will get the people the help they need. Our contribution will be like icing on a cake. Do you all agree?”
A chorus of ayes resonated throughout the room. Not to be outdone, Murphy and Grady barked their approval.
“When do we start?” Annie asked.
“As soon as I get everything in place,” Charles said. “Manpower is crucial in this mission. I need a full day, possibly a day and a half, before I’ll be comfortable sending you into the lion’s den.”
“How are we going to get into D.C.?” Kathryn asked.
Charles smiled. “You’re going to drive, but first I have to secure a base of operations. In order to do that, we need vehicles that are untraceable, and we need new identities that are foolproof. It all takes time, ladies.”
The women muttered and murmured among themselves as they accepted their dismissal and left to go outdoors into the bright sunshine.
They headed toward the pool and the shaded patio, where they all sat down. Annie offered to fetch ice tea. Before starting to talk about the mission, they waited for her return by discussing the gerbera daisies that lined the pool area.
The moment Annie returned with the ice tea, they got down to it.
“The way I see it, we’re outta here in around thirty-six hours,” Kathryn said. “That cuts down our time. We all know we’re going to hit a few snafus along the way, so I say let’s get down to the dirty end and make some plans.”
“And we have to come up with a suitable punishment. One that fits Zenowicz’s crime. I’m really going to enjoy making that weasel squirm,” Nikki said, the light of battle in her eyes.
They talked of other things then as they waited for Annie to return with a second tray that held glasses and a plate of brownies.
“I wonder how Lizzie and Maggie are doing,” Alexis said.
“What really surprises me, knowing Washington the way I do, is that there was no big ruckus in the media when Pearl Barnes resigned and her longtime lover disappeared,” Isabelle said. “Perhaps ‘disappeared’ is the wrong word. I guess the politically correct verbiage would be to say they moved on with their lives. Lizzie’s resignation, as well as Maggie’s, should have stirred up some kind of controversy. And let’s not forget that scummy ex–son-in-law of Pearl’s.”
“As individual cases it would mean nothing except to a few close friends,” Myra said. “Taken as a whole, if anyone was astute enough to put it together, like, say, Ted Robinson, it could mean trouble for all of us. Nellie is in the clear and minding her own business.”
“Jack and Harry say nothing is going on in town. Washington in the summer is pretty much deserted except for tourists. If there was trouble brewing, Jack would know,” Nikki said.
The others watched as Annie poured ice tea generously into crystal glasses that matched the pitcher. “Did you all say anything exciting while I was gone?”
“Only that Ted Robinson is a pimple on our asses.” Kathryn grinned.
“Why don’t I buy the Post? Then we can fire him,” Annie said.
The women stared at Annie until she flushed a bright pink. Her voice was defensive when she said, “I have enough money to buy the paper. The price is no object, if that’s what it takes to get the man out of our hair.”
“You’re a fugitive, Annie. You can’t go around buying up newspapers,” Nikki said.
Annie sipped at her tea. “There are ways around everything,” she responded airily. “Isn’t that right, Myra?”
Myra’s right eye started to twitch as she fingered the pearls around her neck. “Yes, there is a way around everything. At least that’s what Charles has been saying since we formed the Sisterhood. Although Charles has been known to be wrong once or twice,” she said vaguely.
“This tea is very good. Not because I made it, girls, but because I made it with simple syrup. My husband taught me how to make proper ice tea the way they do in the South. I really think my idea is a good one.”
“You’re brilliant, Annie,” Kathryn said. “I need to think. What if we started a rumor that the Post was going to be bought up by…let’s just say for now, an undisclosed buyer who wishes to remain anonymous. Wouldn’t that be a hoot if in the end, when things got down to the wire, it gets out that somehow, some way, the vigilantes own the paper. Just think about that! That’s providing Annie and Myra are right, and there’s a way for Annie to buy the paper.”
Myra’s hands fluttered as she grappled with her pearls. “My goodness, imagine all that free press! Should we tell Charles about Annie’s brilliant idea?”
The women as one jumped at her words. “Why?”
“As a courtesy,” Myra said lamely.
A wicked gleam appeared in Annie’s eyes. “There’s a lot to be said for the element of surprise. I think that’s a no.”
To Annie’s delight, the women high-fived one another.
“So, Nikki, dear, perhaps you should call Jack, who can then call Mr. Robinson