Disclaimer: n. A repudiation or denial of responsibility or connection.
Not mine: Rob Thomas'.
X X X X X
No, my idea had nothing to do with Dick or his surfboard. Though I would like to crush that thing. Maybe someday . . .
Anyway. Enough with the daydreaming and on to class.
I called Logan in between second and third periods. After a perfunctory exchange of greetings, I got down to business. "How long does it take you to get out to the main road in that monstrosity you drive?"
"0-60 in 6.6 seconds," he said. "And at least my vehicle is held together by more than spit and chewing gum."
"True; it's got that garish yellow paint job. That's not quite what I was aiming for."
"Fast enough. The gate opens by remote. But I've already thought about trying it that way. I'm fast, but I'm not fast enough to completely lose the vultures. They'd see where I was going."
"Not necessarily." And I explained what I was thinking.
"Think you can pull it off, Mars?" he asked when I was done.
"Logan!" I said in mock exasperation. "Am I not the most devious, underhanded and Machiavellian person you know?"
"Far and away."
A moment of hesitation. "Are you sure you want me using the car with the garish yellow paint job?"
"Yup. It wouldn't work otherwise. You're just going to have to trust me on this."
"Me trusting you. There's an alien concept." I sighed. Just when it looked like, maybe, Logan Echolls was turning the corner back to humanity again – He went on. "But it's one I'm going to have to get used to, I guess. Go to town."
"I'll let you know when we have everything set up."
"Yes boss, whatever you say, boss." And he hung up.
The thing is, while I have described Logan on more than one occasion as Neptune's Obligatory Psychotic Jackass, he wasn't always like that. Oh sure, he could always be a bit of a jerk, but he never crossed the line to downright abusive until after Lilly's death. I never did figure out why.
And I wouldn't mind if our relationship could go back towards being, at least, civil. I doubted we'd ever be friends again, but I could use fewer enemies.
Anyway. Back to class.
Then there was someone else I needed to talk to.
And lo and behold, there she was at lunch. I excused myself from Wallace's company for a second and ran after her.
"Mac!" I said.
She turned and looked up at me. "Veronica. What do you need?"
"Why do you think I need something?"
"You're being enthusiastic," she said. "You're only enthusiastic when you're in the middle of some scheme or you need a favor." I must have looked a bit hurt, because she said. "Relax. You come up to me often enough at other times, too. I know you're not just using me."
I smiled. "Good to hear. Anyway –"
"What do you need me to hack into?" She asked.
"Nothing, actually. Here's what I need –"
X X X X X
It had taken a bit of persuasion – "I'm not action girl like you are," Mac had said – but eventually she'd gone along with it. For a price.
Wallace was game, too. "You really think just the two of you are going to be able to pull this off? Girl, you may be big in attitude but in real life you're kinda puny."
"It's more than the two of us," I said, growling, but I appreciated the moral support. On my way back to class I made another phone call.
When school got out, I collected Wallace and Mac and drove over to the Echolls house.
They came to the front end of the row of reporter's cars and vans parked alongside the road. It was a two-lane road with a fairly high curb. Mac parked on one side of the road at the head of the row, Wallace and me at the other.
I nodded to Mac and called Logan. "Anytime you're ready."
"We'll be down in a couple of minutes."
True to his word, two minutes later Logan came tearing down the street in his XTerra like he was being chased by every demon ever to appear on Buffy; Lynn was right next to him.
That was all I had a chance to see before they were too far away.
Ten seconds later a mob of reporters came tearing down the Echolls driveway and raced to get in their cars.
Mac and I pulled out before any of them could, me first, her right behind me --
Going approximately 15 miles per hour.
We got horn honks, then angry curses, but we didn't go any faster. We were just two cars out enjoying a nice leisurely weekday drive.
And no one could pull around us, either by going into the other lane (illegal, and dangerous -- especially with two cars in front of them -- and besides, there were a couple of cars coming the other way) or by jumping the curb (stupid with anything less than a full-sized Hummer).
Along the way we passed a car stopped by the side of the road; the occupants seemed okay, and the driver smiled as we drove past.
By the time we came to the stop sign, Logan had had a good five-minute head start.
At this point, I nodded in my rearview mirror to Mac and we both made a production of pulling to the side of the road, as though we hadn't seen the half-mile long line of angry people behind us before that.
The last one stopped as he passed me. "I dunno if you think you're protecting the Echolls, kid, but there aren't that many bright yellow SUVs driving around Neptine. We'll track him down eventually."
I smiled and said, "Good luck on that."
Of course, they'd have an easy time tracking down Logan's XTerra. He was going to go make quite a few visible stops in town.
Lynn Echolls, of course, was in the car we'd passed by the side of the road.
The driver? My dad, of course.
So now all I had to do was pay Mac and collect the money from Logan.
A good day all around.