Page 4 of Agent Zero
He heaved a sigh.Program protocols weren’t his problem.Command and control were his problems, plus paperwork.“Go on down and send someone for a bacon cheeseburger, Three.And onion rings.Use the petty cash.Then come on back.There’s forms to fill out.”
“Yes, sir.”The door closed behind her.Even the ass wasn’t sufficient.
Well, a man worked with what he had.Would it have killed the gene jockeys to put a little more meat on her while they were taking all the emotion out?“Damnit,” Bronson muttered, and dragged the first file folder across the desk.
THREE
It wasa good thing Holly was habitually early.Ten minutes before is right on time, Dad used to say, squinting through the truck windshield every morning as he dropped her off at high school.It was one of the many things he’d learned in the army, like how to fill out forms, how to heft a rifle, and just how wrong your country could do you when you believed in her.Or in the men claiming to speak for her.
Which added up to Mike Candless’s daughter getting to work just as Doug was threatening to quit again.Ginny had just poured a glass of ice water on a grabby-hands patron, and the espresso machine was making that wheezing noise again.
Just another day at Crossroads Diner.In other words,welcome to hell.
“Thank God someone sane is here.”Barbara cracked her gum, the sound lost in the ancient time clock punching Holly’s card.“Can you talk to Doug?I’ve got a guy threatening to sue?—”
“I saw that.”Holly struggled out of her coat, clipped her name tag on, and was in the process of twisting her black hair up.“Ginny strikes again.”
“You’d think her ass would come with a warning label.”Barbara fishhooked a wad of pink gum out, flicked it accurately into the scrap bin and sallied through the swinging doors to pour oil on the troubled waters of a businessman with wandering fingers.
Steady cursing came from the other end of the short hall.Holly finished manhandling her hair into a bun, slapped a band around the base, and called it good.She stepped into the kitchen’s heat and vapor.“Doug?”
“Holly!”Doug Endicott waved a knife while skinny Bart, his understudy, rolled his eyes.Bart was hunched over the grill, tending what looked like the mother of all breakfast rushes.“I can’t work like this!”
“You say that every week.What’s wrong now?”
“The fan!”Broad-shouldered, buzzcut, and loud, he was more of a sonic assault than a visual experience.
Holly took a deep breath, reaching for patience.“What about it?”
“It quit working.”The cook was the very definition ofbuilt like a brick outhouse, and the tattoos on his neck were pure jailhouse art.However, right at the moment, he looked like a balding, petulant three-year-old.
Holly put her hands on her hips.“Did you check the fuse box?”
Silence, broken only by the sizzling from the grill.Holly sighed, marched past him into the utility closet, and a few seconds’ worth of fiddling set everything to rights.“Honestly,” she continued, stepping out and kicking the door shut with her heel, “it’stwo steps away, Doug.”
“He just wants you to talk to him.”Bart grinned, his gold-capped tooth flashing.He was a little slow sometimes, but those knob-knuckled hands could coax the balky old grill into behaving plus clean it to spotless, and he was pretty laid-back even when Doug went on his rampages.
“Shut up.”The senior cook’s ears had turned bright pink.Looked like the special today was something to do with asparagus.At least it wasn’t like the time he’d brought in buckets of oysters.Got such a deal on them, he’d crowed, and nobody had the heart to disagree.
Who’s going to pay for oyster anything?Antony had moaned, but he didn’t get rid of Doug.Or the poor bivalves.
Antony was a softie.Also, nobody had gotten any food poisoning, which was damn near miraculous.
Holly clucked her tongue and escaped before Doug could find something else that needed attention.It was going to be a long day.
As soon as she hit the swinging doors, Ginny descended.The tall girl, whorls of color marching up her arms and her bottom lip pierced, was afire with righteous indignation.“Can youbelieveit?”She swiped at her Bettie Page bangs with the back of one hand, and her kohl-smeared eyes blinked rapidly.
“Second time this week?Or third?”Holly tucked a fresh order pad into her apron.“What’s it look like?”She could very well glance over Ginny’s shoulder and see the usual brunch rush, but getting the girl distracted would make the rest of her shift easier.
“Hell.”Ginny swayed a little.She was in the combat boots again.At least she wasn’t trying to work in heels like she did at first.“And your weirdo’s here.”
“Which one?”But she saw him, and her heart sank a little bit.
It was the usual table, tucked against the corner.He always moved the chair, though, resting it against the mirrored wall.Dark hair, dark eyes, wide shoulders, in jeans and a T-shirt most of the time but with a nice watch.Always ordered coffee, sat for at least an hour...
...and left a humongous tip, which would have been great, except he asked for Holly every damn time.He never even drank the coffee.
All of which added up to potential trouble, and attention Holly didn’t want.She was trying to slide by unnoticed, but people just kept latching on wherever she landed.
