“Hi, Mel, what’s up?” Cammy said as she opened the door to the hospital room. Melanie was sitting up in bed, reading a copy of Veranda magazine.
“My spirits! The doctor says I can go home tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? That soon?” Cammy said, pulling up a chair.
“Yep. Well, you know how it is with insurance and all. As soon as you open your eyes, they find a way to kick you out.”
“How true. But that’s great. I’ll come over tomorrow and drive you home. By the way, I really appreciate being able to use your car today. Waiting for Uber and taxis was getting to be a real hassle. The mechanics at your garage were pretty helpful. They brought your car over to the office.”
“What are you going to do about your own wheels though?”
Cammy sighed. “I’ll have to buy another car. Mine was basically totaled. At least my insurance guy is taking care of the claim. But enough about that, how are you feeling . . . really?”
“I probably shouldn’t operate any heavy machinery,” she quipped, “but I’ll be okay. I’ve been up and around. Even had a shower this morning. It’s still hard looking in the mirror though with these eyes. I mean, the bruises and everything.”
“How long before they clear up?”
“Few more days at least. Guess I look like I’ve been in the ring with Mike Tyson, huh?”
Cammy chuckled. “You’ll probably have women stopping you on the street saying, ‘Honey, there’s a hot line you can call.’ But hey, you look a whole lot better than you did a few days ago. And are you eating anything? Is the food here any good?”
“It’s typical. I’m trying to cut down anyway, you know.”
“I know. But you don’t . . .”
“Sure, I do,” Mel interrupted. “I’ve adopted a new motto.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, it’s not really new, but I like it. How about this? Nothing tastes as good as thin feels,” Mel said with a grin.
“Don’t go overboard. I think Raj likes you just the way you are. And he said to tell you he’ll be over a little later. He’s still at the office, but I cut out early to come see you.”
“Thanks, but it’s not exactly early now. I mean it’s, what, six-thirty?”
“I know. Oh, wait till you hear what happened today,” Cammy said, her eyes lighting up.
“Tell me.”
“Well, I was working with Raj and Ben and the whole team. We were trying another simulation with new algorithms. Ben came up with a new idea. We tried it.”
“And . . . ?” Mel asked expectantly.
“And . . . ta-da . . . we nailed the C3 and redirected the missile,” she said, holding up her hands triumphantly. “Of course, it was only a simulation.”
“But that’s fabulous!”
“I know. It was so exciting.” She started flexing her fingers.
“Only problem is, my arm and hand still hurt every once in a while, and it kind of slows me down sometimes.”
“You’ve been getting those pains for weeks now. You should see a doctor or something.”
“Maybe later. Anyway, it’s pretty neat about the test though, don’t you think?”
“Neat? It’s absolutely terrific. But wait . . .”
“Wait? What?”
“I wasn’t there to send out a press release.”
Cammy shook her head. “Forget the press release. We can do that later. But can you believe it? I mean, after everything that’s been going on with the general and Bollinger and the committee breathing down my neck. Then with the burglary, the car crash and now this,” she gestured at the hospital bed, “to finally get a breakthrough. Oh Mel, we really needed a win.”
Melanie reached over and touched Cammy’s hand. “Know what? I’m really proud of you. I knew you could do it. Now all we need is a field test, and then Congress will come through with the funding and then . . .”
“Yes, well, let’s take this one step at a time. I have to tell you that having Raj with us has been a great help. What a brain that guy has.”
“I know . . . and a few other things too,” Melanie said with a glint in her eye. ‘I can’t wait to see him. When do you think he’ll get here?”
“I’m not sure. He just said he was going to make a bunch of notes to be sure we could recreate the scenario. So it may be a while, although Ben was helping out when I left.”
“That Ben is really a sweet guy.”
“He sure is. Best hire I’ve made all year.”
“And he kind of follows you around like a puppy dog. Have you noticed?”
“Well, I wouldn’t quite put it that way. I think of it more like mentor and student.”
“You really are his mentor, aren’t you?”
“Sure. I believe in bringing the smart ones along, if I can. I mean, the general did that for me when I got out of M.I.T.”
Mel sat up and straightened the pillows behind her. “So what’s your plan for tonight?”
“Since Raj said he was coming over here, and Hunt’s not available . . . he’s leaving for India, you know . . .”
“MmmHmmm.”
“. . . I told Ben I would take him out to dinner to celebrate our little victory.”
“It’s kind of hard to celebrate anything without eating, isn’t it?”
Cammy grinned. “Guess you’re right. Anyway, we’re meeting over at Martin’s in Georgetown. Since it’s cleared up, it’s actually kind of balmy out there tonight, so maybe we can get a table outside. And I like the lamb chops. Their specialty.”
Melanie picked up her magazine and opened to a particular page. “Oh, and speaking of food, I found another crazy recipe for my file. Look.”
Cammy leaned over and read the page. “Chiles in a Walnut Sauce?”
Melanie chuckled, “What makes this one ridiculous is how it’s got twenty-eight ingredients, including twelve Pablano chiles and the seeds of two pomegranates?” She set down the magazine and asked, “When you take me home, what about you? Want to come back to my apartment?”
“Not yet. Hunt told me to stay at his place until he comes back. He thinks I’m safer there, but I’m not so sure.”
“Does he have a good security system?”
“Oh yeah. Place is like a fortress.”
“And do you like it there?” Melanie asked coyly.
“It’s a great house. Let’s just say that I like it better when he’s there.”
“I know what you mean. When’s he coming back anyway?”
Cammy paused, thinking about her foray into Hunt’s private calendar. She felt guilty about using his password. But she kept telling herself she had only wanted to find out when he’d be back. It sounded like a lame excuse though. Hardly something she wanted to confess. “I have no idea. He’s leaving tonight and said it could be a week or so.”
“Well, I’m sure he’ll call you.”
“I hope so.” Cammy checked her watch and got up to leave. “I’d better get going. I want to stop at the house to change, and then I’m meeting Ben. But you take care, and I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Great. I can’t wait to get out of this place.”
Cammy was amazed when she found a parking place on N Street just around the corner from Martin’s. Even though the restaurant was only a few blocks from Hunt’s house, he had told her not to walk around Georgetown alone. She locked the car and hurried toward the restaurant. As long as there were a lot of people around, she felt pretty safe. As she turned the corner, she saw Ben already seated at a small dark green patio table under a green awning.
“Hey Ben, great table. Looks like you snagged the last one.”
“Yeah. On a night like this, I got lucky. This looks like a pretty good place. I’ve never been here before. What’s good?” he asked, picking up the menu.
“Lamb chops,” she responded, sitting down next to him.
“He glanced up from the menu and asked, “Have you ever noticed how every restaurant always has white meat chicken? You can never order chicken legs, you know?”
“I never thought about that.”
“I figure there’s gotta be a big silo somewhere filled with legs and thighs they can’t sell.”
Cammy started to laugh. “Stick with the lamb. It’s better anyway. And would you like a beer? Wine? Order whatever you want.”
Ben gave her a lop-sided grin. “Thanks. Guess we deserve a little celebration. That simulation was awesome! The way you locked on to that sucker. Boy!”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“And Raj,” he added.
“Yes. But tell you what. We’ve been working on those calculations and programs for so many days now, what say we give it a rest and talk about something else.”
“Okay. We’ll park it, and I’ll feed the meter,” he said, peering over the rims of his glasses.
“Feed the meter?” she asked with a quizzical look.
“What I mean is, we’ll park the subject of Q-3, and I’ll think of something else to talk about.”
Cammy sat back and began to recite, “If you can fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, yours is the earth and everything that’s in it, and—what is more—you’ll be a man, my son.”
Ben stared at her for a moment, raised one finger and said, “Wait. I’ve got it. Rudyard Kipling.”
“Right you are,” Cammy said with a smile.
“Here comes the waiter,” Ben said. “Know what you want?”
“Sure do. Caesar salad, lamb chops and a bottle of Pinot Noir, if you’ll join me?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Speaking of sounds, is there a motorcycle convention in town or something?” she asked, looking out at the street.
Ben turned in his chair to follow her gaze, and knocked a salt shaker off the table. As Cammy leaned down to pick it up, the sound of a shot pierced the evening air. Cammy jerked her head up just in time to see a man on a Vespa race the engine and careen around the corner out of sight.
The woman at the next table started screaming, the waiter rushed over and Cammy looked at Ben who was now slumped in his chair. Blood was streaming down his face. Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle a cry when she saw a bullet hole where his cheek bone used to be.