When they reached the end of the hallway, Gordon held the door open for
Chris, and they climbed into the elevator. Gordon touched the 'G' button
and soon they were smoothly dropping down.
Chris noticed the pad had an H button,too. "What does the 'H' stand for? Is that for the helipad on the roof?" "Yes, it is." he answered, "You won't get me to go up there, though. They don't have much in the way of a guard rail. Oh, they've got something up there in place that meets with the minimum safety requirements but you definitely don't want to look down."
With a raised eyebrow, Chris leaned back on the opposite side, looking at him. "I've got vertigo, so I won't have a reason to go up there. You know, I'm surprised you feel up to running around after today's adventures."
Gordon gave her a shy smile. "Well, I know I'm straining John's nerves a bit. I'm keyed up and this is how I like to blow off energy. He's the complete opposite which, is probably why Dad paired us up. He keeps me out of trouble, and I give him some exercise."
In another moment, the elevator came to a rest. The doors slid open to reveal a busy lobby. Chris was amazed at the glittering cocktail dresses and smart tuxedos with bow ties that walked in and out of the bar entrance. A tall elderly woman with a tiny pointed nose and died black hair passed them. Her haughty piercing gaze scanned the crowd as she made her way to the elevator. In her fur coated arms was a tiny yapping dog with two solid black eyes and a tiny black nose.
Gordon grasped Chris's hand and tugged her arm insistently towards the hallway where the game room was located when the woman turned around and froze both of them on the spot with a loud, "Gordon Tracy!" Gordon swore under his breath as the imperious lady approached them. Chris wisely held her tongue and let Gordon do all the talking.
Gordon straightened his back and faced her while keeping his hands on Chris's shoulder. "Mrs. Underhill, it's wonderful to see you. How are you?" Mrs. Underhill looked down at him with narrowed disapproving eyes. "Out running around again with another woman you've just met? Shame on you! Why haven't you settled down now with a nice girl and taken a prominent position in your father's business? He can't run Tracy International all by himself, you know."
Chris expected Gordon to respond to this by giving Mrs. Underhill a good dressing down. Instead, he pretended to look around to see if people were listening, and in a loud whisper, he explained. "Actually, I am in the process of doing just that. Her name's Chris. She's incognito and I'm trying to convince her I'm marriage material. She's a distant relation of the Grimaldi family in Monaco and she's doted on by the prince."
Mrs. Underhill's mouth dropped open in surprise. "So she's titled then?" Gordon hushed her. "Yes, so please-please-please don't let anyone know what I'm up to. Dad loves her. If I blow this...."
Mrs. Underhill gave Chris the once over and then nodded her approval. "Your secret's safe with me. Good luck. I don't know the Grimaldi, of course." she spoke wistfully, "But they're really quite prominent people." With that, the woman turned on painfully sharp, black heels and walked into the elevator. Chris giggled merrily as soon as the doors closed. "Oh, that was close." Gordon sighed, "Come on."
As they turned and walked past the bar entrance, neither Gordon nor Chris saw Dave slip from behind the elegantly etched glass doors. He crossed the lobby and pressed the up button next to the elevator door. Once safely hidden in the car, Dave double checked the contents of his pockets which contained a master key card, a hypo spray of anesthetic that released its contents when pressed against the skin, and a fully loaded handgun. With Gordon and Chris out of the way, the only people he had to worry about now was John and Amanda.
In a matter of moments, Dave was deposited on the tenth floor just outside the double doors that led onto the private apartments. His heart began to pound when he peaked around the edge of the window frame in the door to check out the floor. The corridor laid empty. Suddenly, a door hissed quietly opened as Dave took a step onto the floor. As John walked into the hallway Dave snapped back into his hiding spot behind the door. "Hey, Gordo! Anybody home?"
From her suite, Amanda heard heard John calling and opened the door. "John? Gordon took Chris out to see the sights. They won't be back for awhile."
John turned to see her leaning against the door frame with a tired, fading smile. "John, we need to talk about something."
"Okay. Do we know each other well enough for you to come over to my place?" Amanda tucked her arms around herself and replied, "Oh I suppose so." "Good," he grinned slyly, "because I need to find a shirt before you melt all over the floor from gazing at my perfect physique!"
Dave looked through the window in time to see Amanda follow John into his room. A wave of jealousy struck him hard.
"John, come on. I'm serious!" she sighed as she rubbed her face tiredly. A black t-shirt lay on the chair. While he threw the towel on the table and slipped the shirt on, she struggled to put her thoughts in order. "Look, I'm grateful for all you've done, but you could have just called us a taxi, and sent us home. Why are we really here?" The sad look he gave her, puzzled her. "The most important reason you're here is so we can protect you," he answered. "Protect me? John, that system crash happened right after I entered the last page of codes! Mr. Tracy has to blame me for all of this. He'll probably want to prosecute! You just don't want me to skip town...!" she insisted.
On the other side of the door, Dave pressed the door open just a little to hear better. Amanda unwittingly made herself out to be the villain, but it was John's words that caused Dave to simmer with anger.
"That's ridiculous!" John snapped. "I just got through talking with Dad just a few minutes ago, which is why I was looking for Gordon so I could tell all of you what's going on. I've given him all the information I could and he's got his best man looking into this. Just because he's overly wealthy doesn't mean he's selfish and uncaring. If he's got a problem, it's that he's driven. It's my guess that Dave has something to do with all this, and he knows where you live, doesn't he?"
Amanda paled at his words. "How much do you know?" John sighed. "Enough to know he hurt you. You've been shying away from me, Amanda. Even now you're unconsciously trying to protect yourself." Self conscious about her actions, she stuffed her hands in her pockets. "John, I can't help it!" she spoke angrily. "And what can you do about it?"
The day's events were beginning to wear John down as he thought about the situation they were in. How many times had his father said not to get involved with the people they rescued? "Way too many times," he thought. A clipboard up on Thunderbird 5 had an actual count. He saw her hands sliding up her arms again as if to ward off a chill and then pull away again as she fought between instinct and awareness of what she was doing. She growled in pure frustration and spun around to storm out of the room when they both heard footsteps coming down the hall.
For a moment, John's thinly controlled temper snapped. Incensed that she would walk away from him, he took the damp towel laying on the table and whipped it toward the door's sensor. The movement caused the door to slide closed as she was about to run out and collide with Dave who'd snuck out of his hiding place to slip into Amanda's suite. Unaware of the close call, she whirled around. John saw the fury in her eyes and the poised hands prepared to launch an attack.
"Let me go!" she cried out. John shook her roughly. "Calm down! I'm not going to hurt you! That may have been a reporter coming down the hall! Hush now!"
"Oh, you don't want more publicity involving me? Is that it?" she exclaimed. John hushed her again. "Yelling and shouting? No! Kissing you with abandon? Yes!" The effect of his words quieted her. "What did you say?" Releasing a breath he had been holding , John laughed at the emotional roller coaster they'd been on. "Amanda," he breathed. "Just kiss me, would you?"
Chris noticed the pad had an H button,too. "What does the 'H' stand for? Is that for the helipad on the roof?" "Yes, it is." he answered, "You won't get me to go up there, though. They don't have much in the way of a guard rail. Oh, they've got something up there in place that meets with the minimum safety requirements but you definitely don't want to look down."
With a raised eyebrow, Chris leaned back on the opposite side, looking at him. "I've got vertigo, so I won't have a reason to go up there. You know, I'm surprised you feel up to running around after today's adventures."
Gordon gave her a shy smile. "Well, I know I'm straining John's nerves a bit. I'm keyed up and this is how I like to blow off energy. He's the complete opposite which, is probably why Dad paired us up. He keeps me out of trouble, and I give him some exercise."
In another moment, the elevator came to a rest. The doors slid open to reveal a busy lobby. Chris was amazed at the glittering cocktail dresses and smart tuxedos with bow ties that walked in and out of the bar entrance. A tall elderly woman with a tiny pointed nose and died black hair passed them. Her haughty piercing gaze scanned the crowd as she made her way to the elevator. In her fur coated arms was a tiny yapping dog with two solid black eyes and a tiny black nose.
Gordon grasped Chris's hand and tugged her arm insistently towards the hallway where the game room was located when the woman turned around and froze both of them on the spot with a loud, "Gordon Tracy!" Gordon swore under his breath as the imperious lady approached them. Chris wisely held her tongue and let Gordon do all the talking.
Gordon straightened his back and faced her while keeping his hands on Chris's shoulder. "Mrs. Underhill, it's wonderful to see you. How are you?" Mrs. Underhill looked down at him with narrowed disapproving eyes. "Out running around again with another woman you've just met? Shame on you! Why haven't you settled down now with a nice girl and taken a prominent position in your father's business? He can't run Tracy International all by himself, you know."
Chris expected Gordon to respond to this by giving Mrs. Underhill a good dressing down. Instead, he pretended to look around to see if people were listening, and in a loud whisper, he explained. "Actually, I am in the process of doing just that. Her name's Chris. She's incognito and I'm trying to convince her I'm marriage material. She's a distant relation of the Grimaldi family in Monaco and she's doted on by the prince."
Mrs. Underhill's mouth dropped open in surprise. "So she's titled then?" Gordon hushed her. "Yes, so please-please-please don't let anyone know what I'm up to. Dad loves her. If I blow this...."
Mrs. Underhill gave Chris the once over and then nodded her approval. "Your secret's safe with me. Good luck. I don't know the Grimaldi, of course." she spoke wistfully, "But they're really quite prominent people." With that, the woman turned on painfully sharp, black heels and walked into the elevator. Chris giggled merrily as soon as the doors closed. "Oh, that was close." Gordon sighed, "Come on."
As they turned and walked past the bar entrance, neither Gordon nor Chris saw Dave slip from behind the elegantly etched glass doors. He crossed the lobby and pressed the up button next to the elevator door. Once safely hidden in the car, Dave double checked the contents of his pockets which contained a master key card, a hypo spray of anesthetic that released its contents when pressed against the skin, and a fully loaded handgun. With Gordon and Chris out of the way, the only people he had to worry about now was John and Amanda.
In a matter of moments, Dave was deposited on the tenth floor just outside the double doors that led onto the private apartments. His heart began to pound when he peaked around the edge of the window frame in the door to check out the floor. The corridor laid empty. Suddenly, a door hissed quietly opened as Dave took a step onto the floor. As John walked into the hallway Dave snapped back into his hiding spot behind the door. "Hey, Gordo! Anybody home?"
From her suite, Amanda heard heard John calling and opened the door. "John? Gordon took Chris out to see the sights. They won't be back for awhile."
John turned to see her leaning against the door frame with a tired, fading smile. "John, we need to talk about something."
"Okay. Do we know each other well enough for you to come over to my place?" Amanda tucked her arms around herself and replied, "Oh I suppose so." "Good," he grinned slyly, "because I need to find a shirt before you melt all over the floor from gazing at my perfect physique!"
Dave looked through the window in time to see Amanda follow John into his room. A wave of jealousy struck him hard.
"John, come on. I'm serious!" she sighed as she rubbed her face tiredly. A black t-shirt lay on the chair. While he threw the towel on the table and slipped the shirt on, she struggled to put her thoughts in order. "Look, I'm grateful for all you've done, but you could have just called us a taxi, and sent us home. Why are we really here?" The sad look he gave her, puzzled her. "The most important reason you're here is so we can protect you," he answered. "Protect me? John, that system crash happened right after I entered the last page of codes! Mr. Tracy has to blame me for all of this. He'll probably want to prosecute! You just don't want me to skip town...!" she insisted.
On the other side of the door, Dave pressed the door open just a little to hear better. Amanda unwittingly made herself out to be the villain, but it was John's words that caused Dave to simmer with anger.
"That's ridiculous!" John snapped. "I just got through talking with Dad just a few minutes ago, which is why I was looking for Gordon so I could tell all of you what's going on. I've given him all the information I could and he's got his best man looking into this. Just because he's overly wealthy doesn't mean he's selfish and uncaring. If he's got a problem, it's that he's driven. It's my guess that Dave has something to do with all this, and he knows where you live, doesn't he?"
Amanda paled at his words. "How much do you know?" John sighed. "Enough to know he hurt you. You've been shying away from me, Amanda. Even now you're unconsciously trying to protect yourself." Self conscious about her actions, she stuffed her hands in her pockets. "John, I can't help it!" she spoke angrily. "And what can you do about it?"
The day's events were beginning to wear John down as he thought about the situation they were in. How many times had his father said not to get involved with the people they rescued? "Way too many times," he thought. A clipboard up on Thunderbird 5 had an actual count. He saw her hands sliding up her arms again as if to ward off a chill and then pull away again as she fought between instinct and awareness of what she was doing. She growled in pure frustration and spun around to storm out of the room when they both heard footsteps coming down the hall.
For a moment, John's thinly controlled temper snapped. Incensed that she would walk away from him, he took the damp towel laying on the table and whipped it toward the door's sensor. The movement caused the door to slide closed as she was about to run out and collide with Dave who'd snuck out of his hiding place to slip into Amanda's suite. Unaware of the close call, she whirled around. John saw the fury in her eyes and the poised hands prepared to launch an attack.
"Let me go!" she cried out. John shook her roughly. "Calm down! I'm not going to hurt you! That may have been a reporter coming down the hall! Hush now!"
"Oh, you don't want more publicity involving me? Is that it?" she exclaimed. John hushed her again. "Yelling and shouting? No! Kissing you with abandon? Yes!" The effect of his words quieted her. "What did you say?" Releasing a breath he had been holding , John laughed at the emotional roller coaster they'd been on. "Amanda," he breathed. "Just kiss me, would you?"