The Android's Dream

Chapter 7

Robin turned to Creek. "You bastard," she said. "You never said anything about killing me when we made the date."

Agent Dwight grimaced. "This is serious, Miss Baker. You need to come with me right now."

"Robin, I wouldn't go anywhere with that guy," Creek said.

"I'm not going anywhere with anyone," Robin said.

"You're making a mistake, Miss Baker," Agent Dwight said. "This man is a danger to you."

"Yeah, fine," Robin said. "I'm in a public place with surveillance cameras all around, and you're here to protect me, right? It's doubtful he's going to murder me right here and now. So before I do anything else, I want to know what this is about"

Creek and Dwight started speaking at the same time; Robin held her hand up. "Jesus Christ," she said. "One at a time." She pointed at Dwight. "You. Go."

"You're in danger," Dwight said. "From him."

"I got that already," Robin said. "Why?"

"He's going to try to kill you," Dwight said.

"Any reason?" Robin asked.

"What?" said Dwight.

"Is there any reason he's going to kill me?" Robin asked. "You know, like I killed his father or stole his land? Or is he just your garden-variety axe murderer? What?"

"Well, he's done it before," Dwight said.

"Killed people," Robin said.

"Yeah," said Dwight. "And he's planning to do it to you. That"'s why—"

"I need to come with you. Right Okay, you stop now." She turned to Creek. "You go now."

"It's complicated," Creek said.

"Complicated would be good after this guy's story," Robin said.

"You have a particular sort of DNA in your genetic makeup," Creek said. "Someone with this DNA is needed for a diplomatic mission. Others with this DNA have been turning up dead; as far as I know you're the only one on the planet with this DNA who is still alive. I'm supposed to talk to you about the situation and try to get you to agree to come in to the State Department. We want to discuss options with you and see if you can help us."

"Options that don't include killing me," Robin said.

"Right," Creek said.

"But you didn't get around to telling me any of this," Robin said.

"I tried," Creek said. "I don't know if you know this about yourself, but you're not the easiest person in the world to have a linear conversation with."

"What happens if I don't go to the State Department with you?" Robin said.

There might be a war," Creek said.

"I meant to me," Robin said.

"Nothing," Creek said. "You're an American and a UNE citizen. We can't make you do anything you don't want to do. Although given the presence of the so-called Agent Dwight here, I would suggest you let the State Department give you protection until this thing gets sorted out."

Robin turned to Agent Dwight. "It's just me," she said, pointing at Creek, "but he seems more believable."

"He's lying," Agent Dwight said. "He's a dangerous man."

"Robin, I have my communicator with me. Use it and get the number of the State Department from information," Creek said. "Ask for Ben Javna. He's the Special Assistant to the Secretary of state. He should still be in his office. Tell him who you are and he'll confirm everything I've just told you. He can even arrange to have someone else come and get you. You don't have to go anywhere with me."

Robin looked back at Agent Dwight. "So, what happens if I call the FBI?" she asked.

Agent Dwight didn't answer; he was holding his hand to his ear as if listening to something. Creek saw him glance upwards as he did so; Creek turned around and looked up in the direction Dwight had glanced. He saw someone on the second floor of the mall, standing at the rail of the atrium.

"Robin," Creek said, and pointed. "Look up there."

Robin looked up and squinted.

"Hey," she said. "Isn't that the gecko dude?"

Creek turned and saw Agent Dwight reaching for something inside his coat.

Rod Acuna knew taking the girl at the mall was going to be trouble. "Just let me take her at home," he'd said to Phipps, over the communicator. "It'll be quicker and safer for my men."

"But then we'd still have this Creek character to worry about," Phipps said. "The girl goes missing while he's still free and you know he's going to go looking for her. That's eventually going to lead back to us."

"We can take him, too," Acuna said.

"There's not enough time to grab her and him separately," Phipps said.

"Then let me just grab him," Acuna said. "Without him, the girl's not a problem."

"See, this is why you're not paid to think," Phipps said. "He goes missing, and Ben Javna's going to notice, quick. Since Creek's undoubtedly already briefed Javna, any random disappearance will bring down most of the State Department to hustle the girl to safety before you can get to her."

"I can get them both before that happened," Acuna said.

"Or you can get them both at the same time, which solves a lot of practical issues," Phipps said.

"There's a lot to go wrong grabbing two people in a mall," Acuna said. "For one, there are a lot of people around."

"Which will work to your advantage when you're dealing with them both," Phipps said. "You'll be able to get her to go with you willingly because you're in a public place. And when he puts up a fight, it looks like resisting arrest."

"It still has problems," Acuna said.

"Then minimize the problems," Phipps said. "That's what you get paid to do. Now let me speak to the computer geek I sent you. I have something I need him to do." Acuna swore under his breath and shoved the communicator at Archie.

After the geek was done with the communicator, Acuna contacted Jean Schroeder, who was not sympathetic. "What do you want me to do?" Schroeder said. "Phipps is paying you."

"You're paying me too," Acuna reminded Schroeder.

"So I am," Schroeder said. "But in my case I'm paying you to tell me the things Phipps doesn't, not to contravene his orders.

Which reminds me. Are you going to do what I suspect you're going to do once you get the two of them?"

"We can't really let them go," Acuna said, dryly.

"I'm going to need the girl," Schroeder said.

"So you are paying me to disobey orders," Acuna said.

"I suppose I am. Just not the ones you want to disobey," Schroeder said.

"Takk can take care of Creek, but Phipps is going to want proof about the girl," Acuna said.

"I don't need the whole girl," Schroeder said. "I just need the part I get to be alive."

Shortly thereafter Acuna had the geek pull up the plans for the Arlington Mall and hack the security to find where they'd positioned cameras. The plan was simple enough; they'd wait for Creek and the girl to park themselves somewhere, after which Ed would come up with his FBI gear and escort the girl out. As he was doing that, a second team would converge on Creek and hustle him out of the mall. Creek would meet Takk, who would dispose of him in his own special way, and Acuna would deal with the girl. Mall security was understaffed and unarmed, so they wouldn't represent much of an issue. Acuna had the geek go down to his storage unit in the apartment complex basement to bring up a few keyfob-sized signal disrupters, which would be powerful enough to knock out the security cameras and whatever personal cameras were present. This wasn't the first time Acuna had had to snatch someone in public.

Acuna had to admit Phipps was right—this would leave fewer holes than a typical snatch from home. But he never liked public grabs, and this one, with two targets, one of them former military and cop, he liked even less.

Normally Acuna would take the lead in grabbing the girl, but he'd already blown his identity wad posing as a customer in the woman's pet store. Acuna was getting some old friends to handle the secondary jobs of grabbing Creek and acting as goalie in case one or both of the targets decided to run, but they wouldn't be much good for talking. It'd have to be someone in his current crew: Ed, Takk, or the geek.

Acuna didn't waste any time considering the geek; he wasn't experienced with felonious activity of a nondigital kind and anyway, Archie was working for Phipps, not for him. Takk was likewise out. The FBI like any federal agency was committed to affirmative action when it came to nonhuman agents, but Takk was simply too damn big not to be noticed. Takk was also needed to deal with Creek once Creek was out of the mall.

This left Ed, which was not an optimal situation. Ed was about as bright as a night-light. But there wasn't enough time for anyone else at this point. And Ed had done this thing before; so long as he had a script to stick to he'd be fine. Acuna walked Ed through the scenario a couple of times and gave him his FBI ID and an earpiece into which Acuna could issue commands if necessary.

Acuna's backup boys arrived shortly thereafter; Rod went over the plan and gave everyone their roles. Everyone piled into two vans equipped with fake tags and anonymous credit toll passes and went to the mall. Acuna stressed the nonlethality of the mission but he knew all of them, including Ed, were carrying slug throwers. He couldn't complain; he had one of his own nestled in a shoulder holster. In this fine of work, guns were an occupational hazard.

At the mall, everyone took their positions, and waited for Creek and the girl. They weren't long in arriving, and headed into the mall atrium to play a game.

Acuna wasn't very pleased with that. The atrium was large, with traffic from all four directions as well as escalators feeding traffic to and from the upper level. And on top of that there was this big goddamn plastic cube in the middle of it. Acuna had five guys on the ground, which was just enough to cover the atrium ground floor; he placed himself between the escalator banks to present an obstacle if Creek or the girl decided to head up that way. Acuna got on his headset, activated the signal disrupters they were all carrying in their pockets, and told Ed to get going.

Acuna had expected Creek to put up a fight; he hoped he would, since it would give Ed's story more credibility and make it easier for Ed to hustle the woman off while the other team grabbed Creek like a fugitive criminal. Acuna hadn't expected the girl to be the skeptical one; the story he'd fed Ed wasn't strong enough to stand up to scrutiny, and Ed wasn't exactly a world-class improviser. The girl had him on the spot before Acuna could feed him something reasonable, and then shut him down to talk to Creek.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Ed," Acuna muttered under his breath. "Just get the fucking woman already." Ed put his hand to his ear, as if listening, and glanced up at Acuna. Acuna realized he'd muttered loud enough for the microphone to pick up. Then he saw Creek turn around and look directly at him.

"Fuck me," Acuna said. By now Creek had pointed him out to the girl. The jig was up. "Fuck me running," he said, and then yelled in his headset microphone to his entire crew. "Get them," he said. "Get them both now."

Acuna saw Ed reach into his coat to get his pistol. So much for the nonlethal operation, Acuna thought, and moved to pull out his own gun. Things were getting bad, fast, just as Acuna figured. He was okay with it. He was expecting he'd get to this. Then something happened he didn't expect.

Creek hooked an arm around the lamppost he'd been leaning against, squished his big toe against the top of his shoe, and then kicked Agent Dwight square in the sternum. Dwight sailed backwards like a plush monkey launched by a Pro Bowl kicker, exhaling mightily all the way. Dwight's trajectory intersected with a large mall planter; Dwight hit it coccyx first, radically altering the speed and direction of his movement. At this point, Dwight's hand jerked free of his coat, taking the pistol he'd gripped with it. Dwight's trigger finger twitched involuntarily as his arm described a wild arc; the pistol, set for automatic fire (Ed believed in quantity of bullets over quality of aiming), burped out a volley of special load explosive-tipped ordnance, emptying the pistol's 15-round dip.

Three of these bullets rammed into the side of the WallBall cube, slagging the Plexiglas a fraction of a second before one of the players (the former Maryland star, as it happened) kicked the wall to launch himself toward the hoop. The Terrapin never made it to the basket; the wall, weakened by the bullet impact and the pressure of the powered shoes, fragmented at shoe impact and gave way, torquing the athlete's body until it faced downward and driving the player's leg through the cube wall to mid-shin. He screamed as skin was peeled off his shin by the Plexiglas and then passed out in shock as his tibia and fibula snapped with a pop like a cork off a spumanti bottle. The weight of his body pulled the leg out and dropped him to the ground.

The rest of the bullets connected with the mall ceiling and atrium skylight. The five that hit the ceiling made muffled booms; the seven that smashed the skylight cracked like close thunder, followed by the skittering sound of the skylight losing its structural integrity. Heavy sheets of safety glass peeled from the skylight and shattered on the ground floor of the atrium below, flinging shards of glass the size of Elvis rhinestones at hordes of screaming upscale consumers.

Creek had aimed the kick as well as he could to control the inevitable recoil, but "as well as he could" in this case wasn't as good as Creek had hoped. Creek spun briefly and violently around the pole before flinging off 270 degrees from where he started and collapsing on the floor. Creek howled and grabbed his right shoulder. He could feel the bone grinding; it'd nearly dislocated out of its socket. Creek gritted his teeth and jammed the shoulder into the ground and howled again as he felt the bone suck back into place. That was going to be painful for about a month. Creek got up just in time to have a sheet of skylight glass erupt on the floor beside him; a thumb-sized fragment went straight for his left cheek and hoed a shallow row into it. Creek shielded his eyes as another mass of skylight glass landed and showered him in chunks.

Creek uncovered his eyes to look for Robin and found her ten yards away, huddled near a small planter with a miniature palm tree. She had glass in her hair. He lurched in her direction; halfway there he found Dwight's FBI ID card. He pocketed it and kept going until he reached Robin. She was shivering.

"This is no longer a fun date," she said.

"I'm really sorry about that," Creek said. Another sheet of glass fell from the skylight; Robin barked an exasperated scream. "Keep your head down," Creek said.

"Way ahead of you," Robin said.

Creek looked up over the planter at where the gecko man had been standing; he was being pushed this way and that by frantic shoppers trying to get out of the middle of what they figured was a gang war. Creek looked around and saw four other men, one in each direction, fighting the current of panicked bystanders. Agent Dwight lay sprawled 50 feet away, not moving; Creek suspected he wouldn't be getting up any time soon.

"I think we should leave," Robin said.

"There's a problem with that," Creek said.

"Well, that's just great," Robin said.

"Hold on," Creek said. He looked up to gauge the distance between the atrium floor and the second level of the mall.

"Robin," he said. "We can't get out through the ground floor right here. We're blocked in every direction. We're going to have to go up."

"Gecko man is at the top of the escalators," Robin said.

"We're not going that way," Creek said. "We've got the Wall-Ball shoes on. We can jump up."

"Are you insane?" Robin asked.

"Robin, listen," Creek said, and pointed to a spot by the Wall-Ball cube. "We bounce on the ground there. We hit the WallBall court and then push off and get over the second floor railing."

"And then?" Robin asked.

"Escalators at the far end of the mall. Department stores with elevators. Take your pick. We have to move now. The mall is emptying out."

"I don't think I like you any more," Robin said.

"Fair enough," Creek said. "Are you ready?"

Robin nodded.

Acuna's brain didn't quite process Ed flying back through the air as if he'd been shoved by a train; it got about as far as what the fuck before Ed's gun brought down the ceiling and he had to push back shoppers running in every direction and screaming like morons.

Thanks to that, he lost track of Creek and the girl and found them again only after they popped up, like daisies, from behind one of the atrium planters, and then started moving into the atrium itself. Acuna yelled into his headset for his remaining men to be ready, whatever direction they ended up going. Acuna didn't think they'd go up the escalators, which were still jammed with bystanders trying to shove their way off. But if they tried it he was at the top and his boys would be at the bottom quickly enough. They'd be trapped.

Acuna's brain was consequently not prepared for Creek and the girl hurling themselves at the big plastic cube in the middle of the atrium and then bouncing up off of it like they were doing hurdles on the moon. Acuna stood slack-jawed as the two sprang off the cube and launched themselves at the second floor railing, 90 degrees from where he was standing. Creek cleared it; the woman, who had jumped badly, slammed into the railing, screamed in pain, and scrabbled to grab hold of the top of the railing before she dropped. She was dangling and in too much pain to do anything else.

Acuna's brain snapped back into real time and decided it would figure out the jumping thing later. Now he needed to get the girl and take care of Creek. Acuna wasn't worried about making things look reasonable anymore; the need for that went out the window less than a minute ago when Ed shot out the mall roof. He needed Creek dead and the girl out of here, in that order. Acuna informed his men that Creek and the girl were on the second level, drew his gun, maneuvered through the remaining frantic shoppers, and came in close enough to Creek not to miss the shot.

Acuna saw Creek glance in his direction; his brain estimated where Creek would move next and tracked to that point. This is where Acuna's not factoring in Creek's jumping ability got him in trouble, because Acuna was entirely unprepared for Creek launching himself at Acuna like a rocket.

Creek made it over the railing but landed awkwardly and fell, banging his right knee on the second level floor and cracking the funny bone on his right elbow. He grunted in pain and annoyance; this wasn't a great day for his right arm. Creek heard Robin scream and turned to see her hanging onto the railing; he heaved himself off the floor and lurched toward her to help her when he saw the gecko man heading toward him, gun drawn. Creek flicked the top of his shoe and launched himself at the gecko man in a quick lateral movement without breaking his stride.

Gecko man was clearly not prepared for this; he squeezed off a shot but it went far and wide, shattering a window display at a candle store on the other side of the atrium and causing the dawdling spectators there to get the hell out of Dodge. Creek smacked into the gecko man off center, spinning the both of them around and smashing them both onto the floor, five feet from each other.

Gecko man's pistol had launched itself out of his hand and nestled at the base of the Kleinman's Sports window display (Nike Multi-Sport Trainers 30% Off); Creek saw gecko man prop himself up in order to get up and get the gun. Creek lunged forward, grabbed gecko man's right ankle as he was pushing off, and yanked hard. Gecko man's chin made an audible crack as he came down hard, but he rotated around before Creek could capitalize on his move and planted his left boot squarely into Creek's forehead. Creek's head snapped up, jolting a clear stream of pain up and down his spine.

Creek let go of the gecko man and retreated toward the railing. Gecko man scrambled away toward his gun, got to it, and brought it to bear on Creek, who flicked his shoes back on, kicked hard at the railing, and bearhugged gecko man as he flung into him, knocking the two of them into the Kleinman's Sports window display.

The window glass almost appeared to think about the matter before breaking, nestling the two men in a fighting men-shaped cradle of fragmented glass a few hundredths of a second before shattering completely and underlining both men's exposed surfaces with small red streaks. Creek pulled himself off gecko man just in time for a clumsy left hook to the right cheek. Gecko man had a small glass fragment wedged between the knuckles of his middle and ring finger. Both of them yelled at the hit, Creek at the fragment bloodying his check, and gecko man from the fragment being driven further into his hand.

Creek fell back and knocked over a small display of varied sports equipment, designed to highlight the versatility of the Nike Multi-Sport Trainer. Gecko man, who managed to keep hold of his gun this time, brought it back to Creek's general direction; Creek grabbed at the basketball which had fallen from the display and hurled it hard and square into gecko man's face. Blood flushed out of gecko man's nose; he gasped and reflexively brought his right hand to his face to inspect the damage, which was enough time for Creek to grab the baseball bat. Gecko man brought the gun up again and then screamed in pain as Creek brought the bat down and broke his wrist.

Gecko man dropped the gun and made to grab it with his left hand; Creek heaved the bat clumsily back in the other direction and knocked it away and then clocked the gecko man hard in the chin. There was a sharp clack as gecko man's jaw was driven at high speed into the rest of his skull. The lights went out in gecko man's eyes; Creek made sure he stayed down by tapping him not entirely gently in the left temple. Creek was pretty sure gecko man wasn't dead, but he wasn't going to cry if he was.

Creek heard Robin cry out and staggered out of the window display to see her swinging at one of the men Creek had seen earlier, who was trying to pull her up off the railing. Another man was coming off the now-empty escalator to help him; Creek flung the bat at the man as he passed. The man tripped as the bat connected with his feet, dropping a Taser he'd been carrying in his hand. Creek rushed out and kicked him hard in the head, driving it into the railing and taking the man out of commission.

By this time, the first man had succeeded in grabbing hold of Robin and had started to drag her off the railing. Creek stepped to grab the dropped Taser and suddenly found himself hurtling through the air. In kicking the man, he'd activated his shoes, and had put his foot down just before they deactivated. The bounce was not dramatic, just enough to send him over the railing. Creek frantically fished at the railing as it went by and connected. It sent a new bolt of pain up his right arm, but kept him from falling to the ground floor below.

Creek looked down just in time to see one of the men remaining on the ground floor directly below him, while the other man made toward the escalators. The man directly below him was yanking out a gun. Creek closed his eyes briefly, made as if to pull himself over the railing, and then pushed off, driving himself downward and clicking on his shoes as he fell. Creek could feel the man's clavicles and ribs snap as he pushed off of his body and ricocheted wildly toward a kisosk filled with plush toys. The plush toys softened Creek's impact; the guy he'd jumped off of was not so lucky. Creek could see the pool of blood growing where the man's head had smacked the mall tiles.

Above Creek, Robin screamed again. Creek ran out from underneath the second floor overhang to see the man with Robin trying to drag her away from the atrium, presumably down the mall to one of the far exits. Creek glanced toward the escalators and saw the man who had just run up them, training a gun on him. Creek moved as the shot hit near his feet, and looked around as he ran, trying to find what he needed.

He spied it—on the other side of the atrium, naturally: a small, red fire alarm box, four and a half feet up the wall next to the entrance of a jewelry store. Above him he could see the man who'd shot at him moving to get a clearer shot. Creek clicked on his shoes and kicked off, sailing across the atrium in yard-eating steps. Behind him he could hear the pings of bullets hitting objects and floor tiles; the guy shooting him hadn't figured out how to compensate for the bouncing. Creek hit the atrium wall, yanked down the alarm, and bounced off before the guy upstairs could line up another shot.

The sound system of the mall, which up to this time had been playing the lite hits of the last two decades, erupted into wailing shrieks as the sprinklers in the atrium launched into their showers. The very last of the shoppers burst from their hiding places like flushed partridges, as did whatever salespeople were still in their shops. They were running to beat the fire doors, already dropping down from their ceiling enclosures where they stayed rolled up until they were needed to block the spread of flames from one area of the mall to the next. Fire-tight doors also dropped at the front of every shop; mall staff and customers could still get out through the back paths behind the mall stores.

As he moved, Creek watched the doors seal off exits in every direction; once dropped, the fire doors could be opened only by the Arlington Fire Department. Robin and Creek were stuck, but so were the other guys. They were all trapped together.

The man who'd been shooting at Creek got distracted by the noises and the doors snaking down from the ceiling. Creek used the distraction to pick the gun off the body of the man he'd jumped on. The man upstairs brought his attention back on Creek just as Creek was lining up his shot. The man fired first, a panic shot that went wide. Creek calmly hit the guy center mass and watched him fall. Creek bounded up the escalator to find the final man by the railing, holding Robin and a gun, the latter pointed at the former. The alarm sirens, having done their job of telling people to get out before they burned, went silent.

"Easy," Creek said to the guy.

"I don't know how you're jumping around like that, but if you get any closer, I'm going to shoot her in the head," the guy said.

"I'm not moving," Creek said. "Robin, how are you doing? You okay?"

"No," Robin said, and managed to sound slightly astounded that Creek would ask such a stupid question.

"She's going to be worse if you don't drop your gun," the man said.

"Look, guy," Creek said. "All we came here to do is try on some shoes. I got a pair and she got a pair. I don't know what all of this is about."

"Shut up," said the guy.

"All your friends are gone," Creek said. "You're by yourself."

"Oh, I've got more friends waiting, you can bet on that," the guy said. "Now shut up and drop the gun."

"If I drop the gun you might kill me," Creek said.

"If you don't drop the gun, I'm going to kill her," the guy said. "Now drop the fucking gun."

"All right," Creek said. "I'm dropping the gun now." And he did. The man moved his gun to aim at Creek; Robin activated her shoes and kicked at the railing, forcing her body into the man holding her and launching the both of them at high speed into a mall wall. His shot plowed into the railing near Creek as his arm was jerked wildly away and his body squashed into the wall. Creek bent to pick up his weapon.

Robin crawled away from the guy; the guy groggily raised his gun to shoot at her. Creek shot him in the shoulder and kept the gun trained on him for his entire slide down the wall. The man screamed all the way down, pawing at the mess of his shoulder with his good arm until Creek whacked him in the temple with the butt of his pistol.

He turned his attention to Robin, who was still on the floor. He checked her for injuries, but other than bruises and cuts she seemed fine. "Thank you," Creek said. "I was hoping you'd figure out what I was saying about the shoes." Robin batted him away.

Creek backed off, dropped the pistol into his jacket pocket, and reached into his inside jacket pocket for his communicator. He flicked it open and was mildly surprised it was still functional after his workout. Creek wanted to get Ben Javna to get them protection at the mall before the fire doors opened; Creek didn't know if their last little friend was telling the truth about having backup, but he didn't want to find out one way or another.

Javna wasn't answering his communicator. Creek got voice mail, but switched off without leaving a message. Then Creek pocketed his communicator and looked around and finally up at the shattered atrium skylight. After about a minute he raised up his gun and fired at the skylight, dislodging the remaining sections of glass. From the floor, Robin flinched.

"What are you doing?" Robin spat.

"We need to go, Robin," Creek said, and walked over to help her up. "We need to go now."

"Wait for the police," Robin said. "We can wait for the police."

"There might be more of those guys out there, Robin," Creek said. "Until we're at the State Department, I can't be sure we're totally safe."

"The fire doors are closed," Robin said. "We can't get out."

Creek pointed at the skylight. "That way," he said. "Up off the roof and then down the fire exits. Anyone who's waiting won't be expecting that."

Robin looked like she was going to cry. "I just want to go home," she said.

"You can't," Creek said. "Not right now. Soon. But now we need to go. Can you still jump?" Robin nodded. "Okay. I need you to jump on to the top of the WallBall cube. Okay? And then push off as hard as you can, right through the skylight. Easy." Robin nodded dully, steadied herself, and leapt to the cube. Creek followed suit. Robin bounced up through the skylight; Creek readied himself to do the same.

"Hey!"

Creek dropped and fumbled for the gun in his pocket, and then relaxed when he saw Chet the WallBall attendant looking up at him. He'd been cowering under his counter mis entire time.

"Jesus Christ, man!" Chet said to Creek. "What the hell just happened here?"

"I wish I could tell you," Creek said, getting up. He dropped the gun on the top of the WallBall cube.

"Yeah, well, my shoes," Chet said. "You're still wearing my shoes. I want them back."

"I need them," Creek said. "And I think you're done for the day."

"You said you wouldn't do anything stupid with those shoes!" Chet said. "Look at this place! I mean, God damn! I trusted you, man!"

"Sorry," Creek said, and jumped through the skylight.

Chet watched him go. "No more shoes in advance for anyone," he said.

Acuna woke up in a haze of pain and blood, dragged himself out of the shop window, and gazed around to see three of his men dead or unconscious on the second floor. He limped over to the railing and saw the fire doors down, the other man on his second team lying flat in his blood and Ed, still immobile, splayed where Creek had kicked him. He didn't see Creek or the girl.

Motherfucker, Acuna thought, and then winced and closed his eyes. Even thinking hurt at the moment. Creek did a number on them all, all right. When he opened his eyes again he saw Chet, dragging the unconscious broken-legged WallBall player out of the court.

"Hey!" Acuna yelled, and immediately regretted it.

Chet looked around for the source of the voice and spotted Acuna. "Jesus," Chet said. "Are you all right? You're covered in blood."

"Shut up," Acuna said. "I'm looking for a guy and a woman. They were by your"—Acuna gingerly waved at the WallBall court—"whatever the fuck that thing is. Where did they go?"

"They went out through the skylight," Chet said. "They took my shoes."

Acuna involuntarily looked at Chet's feet, which had shoes on them. Acuna decided he'd spent enough time conversing with this dipshit and looked for an exit. All the stores had their fire doors down; Acuna went back to the window display he'd come from and tried the door that went from the display to the larger store. It was locked; Acuna tried ramming the door with his body a couple of times before he stopped, spat, and became disgusted with himself.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Rod," he said, and reached down to get the gun that Creek had knocked from his hand. Two seconds later Acuna said the same thing as he switched hands to pick up the gun, on account of his right wrist being broken. Acuna stepped back, shot the lock three times, and kicked open the door. He wandered back into the store looking for the back exit. Along the way he passed a display for mountaineering first aid kits. He grabbed one and tucked it under his left arm. God knew he needed it.

Acuna emerged out of a side exit as fire and police were making their appearance, waved in by mall security, who Acuna had seen neither hide nor hair of during what went down. Good job, guys, Acuna thought, winced again and made a note to himself to stop goddamn thinking for a while. He staggered into the mall garage where they had parked their vans, and beat on the side of the van Takk was in. Takk opened the side panel and took a look at his boss.

"What happened to you?" Takk said, in that nasal, high-pitched whine of his.

"Shut the fuck up and help me in," Acuna said.

Minutes later Takk had awkwardly maneuvered his far-too-large frame into the driver's seat and was navigating back to the apartment while Acuna cleaned his wounds as best he could and tried to get hold of the geek. After several failed attempts to raise the geek on the communicator, he finally got through.

"Where the fuck were you?" Acuna snarled at Archie.

"I was getting a snack from the machine," Archie said. "Everything all right?"

"No, everything is not all right," Acuna said. "In fact, everything is a goddamned clusterfuck. Creek and the sheep girl got away. You need to find them for me, geek. You need to find them for me this very second."

Creek got Robin off the mall roof as the fire department and police converged from a distance. Creek took Robin's arm and guided her down the street from the mall to the Arlington Mall stop of the DC Metro. Creek had driven in and assumed whoever was hunting them knew that and would be looking at the parking garage, but not the Metro. Creek pulled out his credit card, paid fares for them both, and led Robin to the platform for trains inbound to DC. There was a stop at Foggy Bottom and from there a cab could take them to the State Department The train rolled into the station; Creek took Robin's arm again and led her into it.

Once inside the train Robin propped herself up against the side of the car and kicked the still-standing Creek in the gut. Creek blocked the kick; Robin burst into tears and collapsed onto the floor of the car. Everyone near Creek and Robin suddenly decided to check out the ambiance in the next train car over.

Creek knelt next to Robin. "What was that about?" Creek asked.

"The shoes don't work anymore," Robin said.

"No," Creek said. "We're too far away from the WallBall court. Sorry about that."

"Who are you?" Robin said. "Really, honestly, now. Just who the goddamn fucking hell are you and what just happened in there and why do people suddenly want to kill me and what the goddamn fuck is going on?"

The last part of that came out as a hysterical shriek; Creek reached over to her hand and patted it gently to calm her. "Take deep breaths," he said. "Take it easy."

Robin slapped his hand away. "Fuck you," she said. "Take it easy. Six men with guns just tried to fucking kill me. I just had to jump through a skylight to get away from them. And now you're taking me who the fuck knows where and I really just ought to scream at the top of my lungs and get people in here to tackle you and take you away. If you don't tell me who you really are and what's going on, right now, I swear I'm going to do it."

"I told you who I am and what"s going on in the mall," Creek said. "You seemed to accept it at the time."

"That's because I thought you were joking," Robin said.

"What?" Creek said.

"Well, Jesus, Harry," Robin said. "All of a sudden a guy shows up and tells me I'm in danger, and you tell me a story about a war. It had to be a joke. I figured maybe I was on a reality show or something. I was just going along to be a good sport. I was looking for the film crew. Either that or you were just some loser poking fun at me with a friend. In which case I was going to go to the mall security and have you arrested for harassing me. Either way, I wasn't thinking it was for real. You think I would have been joking about it if were real? Christ."

"I'm sorry, Robin," Creek said. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet and gave it to Robin, and then reached in his jacket pocket and gave her his communicator. "All my ID is in the wallet," he said. "Look at everything in there. And then, like I said before, take my communicator, call up information and have them connect you to the State Department general line. Ask for Ben Javna. Tell him who you are. He'll verify I am who I say I am and everything I told you." Creek stood up.

"What are you doing?" Robin asked him.

"I'm going to go sit at the back of the car, away from you," Creek said. "If you don't feel safe around me, I don't want you worried about me being close to you. Now, go on. Look at my stuff and call Ben." Creek turned and went to the back of the car. A few minutes later, the train stopped to let passengers on and off; Creek noted that Robin had stayed on the train. He took that as a good sign.

"Hey, Harry," Robin said.

"Yeah?" Creek said.

"The guy you wanted me to call is Ben Javna, right?" Robin asked.

"That's right," Creek said.

"Your communicator says you just now got a text message from him," Robin said.

"What does it say?" Creek said.

"You want me to read your private messages?" Robin said.

"Just this once," Creek said. He saw Robin press the button and scan the message.

"What's it say?" Creek said again.

Robin got up and walked over to Creek. She handed him the communicator. Creek took it and read the message.

BIG TROUBLE, it read. DON'T CALL. GET LOST. STAY LOST. TAKE YOUR FRIEND WITH YOU.

Creek closed the communicator and looked at Robin. He opened his mouth, but she put her hand up.

"Don't, Harry," she said. "I believe you. I believe you're telling me the truth. Now just tell me one thing. Okay? Tell me I'm going to make it through all of this alive."