She looked at the boy beside her. And to Hale.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” Reagan said with a little flourish, like part of him was putting on a show. “If you could move to the edges of the dance floor...” he said calmly, but no one moved. “Do it!” Another burst of bullets filled the air.
People screamed. Some fell to the floor with their hands over their heads, but almost everyone was frozen.
“Now move to the edge of the dance floor,” Reagan said again very slowly, and this time the people did as they were told. “Hands where we can see them, ladies and gentlemen. In fact, ladies, why don’t you toss your handbags into the center of the room? No use hanging on to those now.”
A handful of women “tossed” their ten-thousand-dollar evening bags onto the hardwood floor, and Macey was glad no one was in the mood to protest.
“Gentlemen,” Reagan said with renewed flair, “we will now be moving through the crowd to collect your cell phones. No use hiding them. We have our ways.”
When one of the masked men (George H. W. Bush) came toward them, Macey watched Hale slip a cell phone out of the interior pocket of his jacket and put it into the bag Bush Senior was carrying.
“I thought you didn’t have a cell phone,” Macey whispered.
“I lied,” Hale said, and Macey realized how good he was at doing exactly that.
“Now, who still has a phone?” Reagan asked like a kindergarten teacher giving a child once last chance to confess to leaving the lids off the markers. “Come on now.” He walked down the stage, and when no one said a thing he shot another blaze of bullets into the air. And suddenly, a handful of cell phones were on the floor, sliding toward the pile of handbags in the center of the room.
Quietly, Macey went through her options. Even though the masked men were asking for cell phones, the gunmen were making so much noise that she was sure someone had already called 911. The obvious exits were blocked, and the elevators had no doubt been disabled. The men moved with confidence and order, but they weren’t trying to be quiet. There was nothing covert at all about this operation.
Unlike the boy beside her.
From the corner of her eye she saw him reach for his coat pocket.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
“What?” he asked with a shrug. He looked and sounded almost bored.
“Don’t do whatever you’re doing.”
When Hale’s hand disappeared inside his tuxedo jacket, Macey wasn’t exactly sure what he’d find inside that pocket. It could have been another phone or a breath mint. Really, nothing would have surprised her. Well…nothing except…
“Is that an earbud?” she whispered. He smiled. “Are you on comms?”
“Shhh,” he told her softly.
Macey saw one of the men, Carter, over Hale’s shoulder, walking slowly around the group, standing guard, and she lowered her voice even more.
“Why do you have a comms unit?”
Hale smirked. “You’re cute when you’re annoyed.”
“Don’t,” she warned, but it was too late; he was already placing the tiny device in his ear.
Macey couldn’t decide whether to be intrigued that Hale was walking around with a state-of-the-art covert communications device or jealous because she’d been caught without one of her own.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” Reagan said from the stage. He bowed a little. “Why don’t you all have a seat?”
“What is it?” When Kat’s voice finally came into Hale’s ear, it was cold and steady and even. All tease was gone. If she was angry at him for standing her up, she didn’t show it. She just said, “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Party crashers,” Hale whispered. He watched Macey watching him. “Five, and they brought toys.”
“Guns?” Kat guessed.
“Big ones,” Hale said.
“You know this is what you get for doing a favor for your mother.”