Author's note: This chapter is a little shorter than usual, but the cliffhanger I created was too good not to use. I'm evil like that.

PS: Please check out the new story icon I made. Just something to picture in your mind as you read this story.

CHAPTER FIVE

Walter woke up as he gradually became aware of a pair of low voices muttering a few feet away. His neck had a crick in it and there was a dull ache in his lower back from trying to sleep on the uncomfortable bus seat. Looking out the window, he noted it was still dark outside, with just a thin sliver of light visible on the horizon.

Shooting a glance across the aisle at a still sleeping Happy, the whispers became clearer as he focused on them, realizing they were speaking Russian. "We don't have to go through customs," someone said. Walter wasn't 100% sure, but he thought the speaker was Akim, the head roadie. He'd been yelled at by the man enough the night before to be familiar with his voice. "Not between states. You know this."

"Da, but what happened in Dallas, it makes me nervous." He didn't recognize the second man.

"You are still upset about Mila. She was careless and stupid."

"No she wasn't."

"We need to be careful or we will all end up like Mila." Akim chuckled. "I don't think we will like American prison."

"Better than Russian gulag," the other man spat out. "I don't like the new guy."

"The noob? Nobody likes him," said Akim. "He's an idiot. The chick, what's her name, Glad or Happy or something stupid like that, she said he told her he worked with a jazz quartet before us."

"Jazz? That garbage?"

"Da, I know. No wonder he's an idiot." The head roadie laughed softly. "I don't think we need to worry about him. Darby will fire his stupid American ass if Yuri catches him fucking up again."

"Good." Silence filled the air for a few moments before the unknown man spoke again. "I'm still worried."

"You worry too much, Nazar. We haven't had a problem getting stuff out of this country before. We won't now. Go back to sleep."

Walter listened as the two men grew quiet, the sound of their even breathing telling him they had both fallen asleep. Going over the conversation in his mind, he speculated on what they had been talking about. There had been no mention of weapons but what else could they mean? Okay, possibly drugs, but they weren't shy about their use of illegal substances. He'd been offered a couple of joints and some pills over the course of the evening, all of which he'd turned down, of course. No, he was certain they'd been discussing guns.

He had to admit he wasn't surprised by their opinion of him. And their comments about jazz were uneducated and uninformed. As if the horrid noise the band performed was worthy of the name music. But he wasn't there to win a popularity contest. He was there to stop a rebellion.

Attempting to clear his head, he closed his eyes, shifting around on the uncomfortable bus seat as he tried to go back to sleep.

ooooo

"Mom?"

"Ralph, sweetheart." Paige smiled when she heard her son's voice. It was after four in the afternoon, over twenty-four hours since she'd left for Phoenix. Her day had been a whirlwind of costume fittings and rehearsals and avoiding Yuri's filthy innuendo and groping hands. She'd only caught glimpses of Walter and Happy as they performed their duties, not seeing either of them in the last several hours.

She had snuck out a back door of the venue, and was sitting down at the top of a small flight of concrete steps. "How are you? I would have called sooner, but it's been crazy."

"I'm fine. I'm helping Cabe and Toby fix Walter's washing machine." In the background, Paige heard a loud clang followed by a muffled string of curses.

"What's wrong with Walter's washer?" she asked as she grew concerned. "What needed washing?"

"Oh, uh, me and Sly got some pizza on our clothes last night," the boy genius said quickly. "You won the audition, didn't you?" he asked, changing the subject, adding to her suspicions something other than pizza stained clothing was involved.

"Yes, I did," she acknowledged, pushing aside her concerns. "The concert is in less than four hours."

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes, a little." She bit her lip as she lied to her son. She was more than a little nervous. She was a lot nervous. Her stomach was roiling with anxiety at the thought of standing in front of thousands of people, singing lyrics she barely knew.

"You'll do great," Ralph reassured her. "I enjoy you singing to me. I'm sure others will as well."

Paige smiled despite her unease. Her little genius always saw life from a logical angle. Not unlike the bigger genius he wanted to emulate.

Almost as if he knew she had been thinking about him, she turned to see Walter emerge through the door at her back. He came to a halt when he saw her, and she watched as indecision settled over his features. She beckoned him over, letting him know she wanted his company.

"It's Ralph," she whispered as Walter sat down beside her. "Do you want to talk to him?"

"Sure." He reached for her cell, then drew his hand back. "I don't want to intrude. . ."

"It's fine." She pressed her phone into his palm. "Ralph, Walter's here. I'll put him on."

"Hey, Ralph," the genius greeted her son, his delight in talking to the boy evident in his tone. "That is impressive," he said after a few moments. Walter's eyes slid over to meet hers for a brief moment before shying away. "Yeah, I haven't for awhile though. I don't know if I can do it anymore." He grinned mischievously, causing Paige's heart to skip. He had no idea how sexy he looked when he did that. And in combination with the red plaid flannel shirt and white t-shirt he was wearing, she was surprised she didn't melt into a puddle right there on the steps.

"Yes, a well-rounded education is important. Okay, here's your mom. Bye, Ralph. Talk to you later, buddy." Walter handed the cell back to her.

"Ralph, honey, remember your day camp starts at nine on Monday. You'll need to set an alarm for eight."

She swore she could hear his eyes roll through their connection. "I will," he huffed. "Toby says I'm supposed to tell you to break a leg, although I'm not sure why, his explanation makes no sense."

Laughing, she said, "I know what it means, and thank you. I'll talk to you later. I love you." She received a grunt in reply as Ralph hung up. Still smiling, she glanced over at the man next to her, gasping at the intensity in his dark eyes.

His expression immediately changed to one of nonchalance as he jumped to his feet. "So it sounds like everything is okay back at the garage," he said, holding out a hand to help her up.

"Everything but your washing machine," she said before she could stop herself.

"What's wrong with my washing machine?" He was frowning now.

"I'm not sure, but it will probably be beyond repair before too long," she said before adding, "Hey, I need to tell you to watch out for Zalina. She's, uh. . ."

Her face flared with warmth. How was she supposed to warn Walter about a woman who wanted to have sex with him? It really wasn't any of her business. It wasn't like they were a couple or anything. But, she rationalized as she took a deep breath, she was his friend. And friends didn't let other friends get hurt.

"She what?" he asked, his brow furrowed with confusion.

"She-wants-to-sleep-with-you," Paige blurted out in a rush. "Only she didn't put it so politely, if you know what I mean."

Walter had no clue what she meant. Okay, he understood the first part, which was frightening enough. He didn't even know which backup singer she was talking about, not that it mattered. He wasn't interested in either of them, only the woman standing next to him.

"She's the blonde one," said Paige, as if she had been reading his mind. "I, uh, just thought I should let you know. It's none of my bus. . ."

"No, it's okay. Thanks." He smiled at her. "I will be careful. You should be too."

"Of what?"

"That blond guy. . ."

"Yuri?" Paige laughed. "He flirts with everyone. I don't think he can help himself. He's harmless."

"Okay, but. . ."

"Don't worry, Walter. I'll be fine."

"Just be careful." He knew she was capable of taking care of herself. She had for years before he'd met her. But still. . . The thought of that asshole laying a finger on her made his blood boil.

"I will." She tilted her head toward the door. "Are you on a break or something?"

"You could say that. I needed some fresh air." He turned to grasp the doorknob. "Uh, do you need to go back?"

"Not yet. I have until six thirty then hair and makeup."

"That's when I assist with the sound check." If they'd let him. Akim was still pissed at him for the amplifier fiasco the previous evening.

Paige looked at her watch. "We have a couple of hours then. Maybe we should do some snooping around?"

"Uh, sure," he agreed, thrilled she suggested they work together. He became even more excited when she moved closer and laid her hand on his upper arm.

The knob twisted in his hand and the door pushed open. "Hey, noob," said Happy, poking her head out of the narrow gap. "Oh, Paige. Hey. . . Uh. . . So, uh, we, like just the other roadies, we're going out to get some food. You coming?" she asked Walter with a smirk.

He shook his head. "We're going to take a look around." He turned to Paige. "Maybe our bus first?" He filled both women in on the conversation he'd overheard during the night between Akim and Nazar. "I don't know if they were talking about guns, but. . . It would be a good place to start. Everyone else will be gone?" He glanced at the mechanic for confirmation.

"Just don't get caught," she cautioned with a nod. "See ya later, noob." Drawing her head back inside, she then closed the door.

"Why is she calling you 'noob'?" asked Paige.

"They're all calling me that. I don't know what it means." He and Paige walked down the steps toward the roadies' bus.

"It just means you're a newbie." He still didn't understand and his confusion must have shown because she continued with a giggle. "It means you're new to something. A beginner."

"Huh." He had envisioned it being something much worse, such as a certain part of human anatomy.

"Oh, damn. I forgot to warn Happy about Anya." Paige glanced over her shoulder.

"Who's Anya? And why do you. . ." Comprehension hit him like a brick. The other backup singer must have expressed interest in the mechanic. He listened as Paige's explanation verified his assumption. He wanted to reassure her Happy would be okay, she'd been in a relationship with a woman before and wouldn't be shocked if another woman hit on her. But, like her smoking habit, it wasn't his secret to divulge.

Thankfully they had arrived at the bus, which was unlocked. "You take this side," he suggested, pointing to the seats to the left, "and I take the other. Cabe gave me a cloning device but I don't think we'll find many phones. They'd probably carry those with them. Look for laptops or tablets." Paige nodded and they both went to work rifling through the other roadies' belongings.

"Oh, God." Paige put her hand over her mouth as Walter looked up from the duffel bag he was searching.

"What? Did you find something?" He came up behind her and peered over her shoulder. "Oh, boy." She'd uncovered a stash of pornographic material. His face was on fire as he ducked his head. "Uh, you better let me. . .um. . ."

She backed away, bumping into him. "Ugh, no problem," she said, her cheeks a bright pink. "You'd probably. . ."

Footsteps crunched in gravel right outside the bus, cutting off her thought, coming to a halt by the vehicle's entrance. "Quick," she hissed. "Hide. . .or something."

He opened his mouth to argue he had every right to be there but snapped it shut again as the door began to open. Hiding was out of the question. So he did 'or something'. He grabbed Paige, spun her into the nearest empty seat before straddling her lap. Then he kissed her.