Couples

Chapter 103

"Can I check your GPS again? " Azra asks, scanning the slightly flattened terrain. Jack hands her a small device with a backlit readout. She nods. "That's what I calculated. This is our extraction point."

Jack gazes around. "A copter should be able to come in no problem. What do you need to signal for pick-up?"

"Just a code on the channel I used on your phone before we left cover." Azra's eyes dance in the moonlight. "But I can't let you see it."

Barely visible to his companion, Jack shakes his head. "Of course not. If the desk jockeys weren't obsessed with guarding their secrets against each other, half the intelligence community would be out of work." He hands her his satellite phone. "Have at it."

"Transmitted," Azra announces, passing the phone back to Jack.

Jack further surveys their surroundings. "We should find some camouflage until pick up. There's no brush thick enough for concealment, but some of the boulders should be large enough to hide you anyway. I'm too damn tall."

"You weren't when you managed to get over that prison wall 6 years ago and got those 20 prisoners out," Azra reminds him. "You stay close to the ground. I'll keep watch from behind the rocks."

"Are you sure you're up to that?" Jack presses.

"Jack, we've both been through a lot worse."

"Polls open at six a.m.," Rick announces, passing a cup of coffee across the counter to a still sleep-muddled Kate. "You can cast your vote before setting up to stake out Momentous Mops."

Kate inhales the vapors from her mug. "When are you going to go?"

"As soon as I get Lily fed and organized. I thought I'd give her a peek into the civic responsibilities she'll be assuming when she's older. I'm going to take the stroller in case we have to wait in line. At least one of us should be comfortable. But the wait in this neighborhood should be short enough. From what I've heard, if we were 30 minutes uptown, I'd have to bring lunch and maybe dinner. Hopefully, that's improved. But in any case, she can see the little flags and all the different people lined up to make their voices heard. Fingers crossed they'll be heard for Eli."

Kate takes a grateful sip of coffee. "You introduced me to Bob Weldon before he was reelected, but I've never been involved this much with a campaign before. It's a whole different feel."

"I know what you mean," Rick agrees. "When I started supporting Weldon, it was to preserve libraries because they are so important to me. But once I was in the fight, I realized that as ugly as politics can get, they matter. You have an asshole like Burrell at the top, and everything starts to go to pieces."

"Same thing as having a few of them at the top of the N.Y.P.D.," Kate comments. "I think that's why Montgomery is losing his hair."

Rick pours another cup of coffee. "I wouldn't doubt it."

Christine arrives early at Imagination Patch. Last night, a short text from Richard Castle appeared on her phone. "You won." She has no idea what Mr. Castle told Benedict Auchincloss, but she hopes it was tactful. She's met some chefs who celebrated their sous chef's victories. She's also met some who didn't. She's hoping she won't have to spend the entire day peeling vegetables as punishment, but she plans to be ready for anything.

She also wants some time to vote. She doesn't usually care much about elections, but she was impressed by Eli Douglas, and she's also heard that Mr. Castle is supporting him. Christine can't imagine ever having anything to do with the district attorney's office, but you never know. She figures she can go before the polls close at nine p.m. But to do that, she'll have to make sure the kitchen is in good enough shape to service the patrons without her.

She has the ingredients for pie crust and cookie dough set out in order when Auchincloss arrives in the kitchen, fastening his chef's coat. "Richard Castle and his wife think you made a great sauce."

Christine fights to keep her voice from trembling. "Neither one of them is a professional chef."

"Quite correct," Auchincloss acknowledges, "but Richard Castle is well known to have an excellent palate. And I wouldn't doubt Detective Beckett's opinion either. Police officers require sharp senses. You did an acceptable job. You're less likely to be an embarrassment to Mr. Castle and me."

"Is that a compliment, Chef?" Christine inquires.

"It's an affirmation of my judgment. Now, we're going to need more pies and take-out for this evening. When people vote, they like to pick up meals to go. I take it we'll be fully prepared?"

Christine quickly recalculates what she'll have to do in order to make it to the polls herself. In her mind, she can hear her instructor at culinary school emphasizing time management. She can make sure everything is put together just fine – and she might even fit in enough time to feed herself. She won't give Chef Auchincloss any reason to doubt she can do a lot more than making a great sauce.

Azra looks up cautiously at the faraway whup of helicopter blades. "Our ride is coming."

Prone on the ground, Jack can detect vibrations in the earth. "It's not the only thing coming. Vehicles are headed this way."

"How fast?" Azra asks. "Never mind. I can see dust rising in this direction, the kind kicked up by Russian trucks. Getting out could be tight. What have we got besides your rifle?"

"Three pistols and my knives, but if the enemy is close enough for knives, there's no way a chopper could reach us. We have to hold them off long enough for it to move in. Rifle or pistol?"

"Two pistols," Azra decides, "with as much ammo for them as you've got."

Jack quickly passes her the requested weaponry and raises his M24 to his shoulder. He spots the first of the Russian vehicles. "Here we go."

Election precinct captain Maisie Adams turns to longtime friend and fellow poll worker Myrtle Fletcher. "Do you hear that? Something's happening outside."

"Maybe it's a protest," Myrtle suggests. "We had one of those 2 years ago. They held up their signs and chanted but didn't try to stop anyone from voting. After a while, they left."

Maisie shakes her head. "That doesn't sound like chanting to me. And no one is coming in anymore. It's illegal to stop people from voting. We should call the police."

Lana's patrol is uneventful until she gets notice of a possible disturbance at a church used as a polling place. As far as she knows, it hasn't been a trouble spot in previous elections, but that doesn't mean anything this time. She approaches cautiously to see a small crowd of men and women in red, white, and blue hats blocking the entrance to the poll. As far as Lana can tell, none of them are under 60. Most of them don't look under 75, either. The group doesn't appear dangerous, but looks can be deceiving. She calls for backup before walking up to question participants in the gathering. "Are you aware that electioneering is illegal within 100 feet of a polling place?"

A man with white hair down to his shoulders steps forward. "This isn't a real polling place. The Color Conspiracy set it up to fool people and collect ballots so they wouldn't be counted."

"Who is the Color Conspiracy?" Lana asks.

"They're the ones who are trying to take over from real Americans," Long Hair responds. He gestures toward his companions. "Like us, like you."

"Wait!" yells a woman from the cluster. "She's not one of us. She's the girlfriend of that demon."

Lana groans. It could be a long day.