She doesn 't stay here."
"Fine. Thank you, Manny. Go with Pansy, okay?"
"Of course. Hey, I got the Hummer back. Cops are looking for you, but I guess you already knew that. Thanks for the damage."
"Yeah, sorry."
"I just ordered a red one. And it cost me ten grand to get the upgrades transferred over. You're paying for it."
He hung up.
Jazz sighed. "Unbelievable. You've seen the office, right? Ten grand to him is what he finds vacuuming the carpet."
"He's getting a red one? I didn't think it could possibly stick out any more."
"Well, let's face it, we don't love the damn thing for its ability to blend in..."
They both fell silent as Lucia made the last turn, and Jazz silently checked addresses. She pointed to a ten-story building at the end of the street. It wasn't pretty, wasn't ugly, wasn't much of anything. A nondescript structure, a victim of industrial-park architectural school. Glass and granite, concrete and steel. It looked strong, but not imposing.
"Parking," Lucia said. "On the street?"
"We all going to have our vests covered?" asked Jazz.
For answer, McCarthy put his shirt on over his and buttoned it. It looked tight, but would pass a quick visual inspection. Lucia had a problem for a second, because she didn't want the sweat-and-blister-inducing Kevlar against her bare skin, but by the time she'd pulled into a space, Jazz had found an extra T-shirt in her duffel bag. Lucia donned it, then the heavy armor. McCarthy tightened the straps for her, although she didn't need the help, and Jazz handed her a blue-and-white-checked outer shirt. She buttoned it as far as her collarbone and picked up the backpack.
"Ready," she said.
Jazz slid back the door under the blazing morning sun. "I hope to hell it's Casual Friday in there." She opened the phone and speed-dialed Manny. "We're going."
Ben, as they'd worked out on the drive, took up a post sitting in the lobby. He didn't look out of place, especially when he sat down with a copy of Business Week and relaxed with a foam cup next to him.
It was surprisingly easy infiltrating the headquarters of Eidolon. Part of that was due to corporate mentality - there was security, and it involved key cards, but loitering at the elevators; talking idly until a group of workers showed up, netted a ride upstairs. Jazz and Lucia just drafted on the first one's key card through the big glass doors into the work area.
Jazz knew the floor plans backward and forward, evidently. She unhesitatingly turned left, then right at a junction, then left.
They ended up at the bathrooms. Lucia blinked, startled, but Jazz just lifted a shoulder. "Look, I've been on the road for what feels like a week, and if we're going to do this, the last thing I need is a full bladder, if you know what I mean."
Lucia choked down a laugh and followed her.
Business done, they took a quick stroll around the slowly filling work cubicles. It was a busy place - apparently, evil's stock was up this week - and every person they saw might know them, or at least their photographs. But this floor seemed to hold worker bees, not executives, and be devoted to systems and finance.
There was an empty cubicle against the far wall. The server room - which they couldn't possibly get into - was on the other side. Lucia set the heavy backpack down with a breathless sigh of relief. "You're sure there isn't shielding on the room?" she asked.
"Not in the plans," Jazz said.
"We can't get this wrong."
"The server room's locked off, with special access. Our chances of getting in there - "
"Go pull the fire alarm."
"What?"
"Go pull the fire alarm. All electronic doors have to unlock in the event of a fire alarm. It's code."
Jazz stared at her for a few seconds, then took out her cell phone and speed-dialed Manny once more. "Get ready. Two minutes." She hung up without waiting for his reply. "Right. Give me your stuff."
Lucia handed over her purse and phone.
"I'll evacuate with the herd. You find me," Jazz said.
"Okay."
Jazz grabbed her by the hand. "L. Don't disappoint me and get killed, okay?"
Lucia, for answer, pulled her into a quick hug, kissed her on the cheek and said, "Go."
Then she grabbed the backpack, shouldered it and watched Jazz head for the fire alarm. She pulled it casually and kept walking.
Alarms and overhead strobes erupted. A computerized voice came on the intercoms, over groans and shouts, and instructed everyone to head