Chapter 10- We Crash a Tea Party
It was as if the weather had gotten 100% more gloomy in the last 10 minutes, before it had been OK (ish), but now it was downright depressing- almost a little scary. The sky was dark gray, almost black, and I could swear I could see traces of green in the swirling clouds. Well, that's global warming for you.
Jake landed the chopper and called a car to get us into town. Rachel said that she could easily find another form of transportation. I personally would have stuck with the helicopter.
"I have a bad feeling about traveling too far in the helicopter." She said, "Trust me- Oracle's intuition."
So there we were- 4 teenage girls riding around in some taxi that smelt strongly of goats. I really wanted to visit all of the museums. But of course, I got turned down.
"Come on guys!" I pleaded, "This is where the Boston tea party happened, and the Boston massacre, tons of stuff. Pretty please!" I tried my best puppy dog pout.
"I know as well as you do that only like 3 people died in the Boston Massacre, so it's not really a massacre, now is it?" Clarisse raised her eyebrows at me, "So why the Styx would I be the slightest bit interested?"
"Yeah Annabeth, do you want to save your boyfriend or not?" Morgan asked, exasperated.
Pout. I hated it when other people were right.
The cab stopped and Rachel paid the driver. We hopped out. We were standing in front of a tall, black building. Rows and rows of monotone square windows led up to a green and white logo on the top of the building. The Dare Enterprises building looked even more imposing here than the one in New York.
"Okay guys, Morgan and Clarisse, you stay out here and keep guard. Annabeth and I will see if we can weasel a car out of this joint." Rachel said, and the other girls nodded.
The Dare Enterprises lobby was impressive. It was a huge room. The floor was tiled in solid white marble. Numerous large T.V. screens on the wall were showing the weather, stock market stuff, CNN, and a bunch of other stuff business people would enjoy watching. The walls were all stark white. Elevator doors dinged as they opened and closed. Fancy Shmancy looking people with suits and briefcases stepped out hurriedly, their eyes glued to Rolexes on their wrists.
At the end of the lobby, there was an elevated dark wood desk. Four clerks stood behind it. One was typing furiously on a computer keyboard. Another was on the phone saying, "Dare Enterprises, please hold. Dare Enterprises, please hold. Dare Enterprises, hold please." One was in a heated argument with a guy in a turban, and the last one was… eating a donut.
We walked up to the donut dude. He looked thirty something. He wore really dorky looking glasses and he had a very bushy mustache. Some of the Jelly squeezed out of his doughnut and on to his shirt. He used his hideous tie to try to wipe it off. I didn't see a wedding ring- big surprise. Doesn't he just sound so sexy?
"I would like to see the manager." Rachel said with confidence like she owned the place, which of course she did.
The guy wiped his nose on the back of his hand. "And who might you be, little lady?" he asked, chuckling for some reason.
Rachel scoffed and rolled her eyes. I decided to have some fun. "You mean you DON'T KNOW who this IS!" I gasped and raised my eyebrows in mock surprise.
Donut dude looked confused, "Should I?"
"This is RACHEL ELIZABETH DARE! RACHEL DARE!" I pretended to gape at donut dude. I could hear Rachel snickering behind my back.
Donut Dude still looked confused.
Rachel's voice sounded two octaves higher than usual, "You know, the heiress to this entire cooperation. My daddy owns this place, and signs your check. Now the manager, please?"
Donut Dude's eyes got really big, really fast, "Yes, miss Dare!" He grabbed the phone off the cradle and punched in the number. "Sir? This is Dennis, the desk clerk. There is a Ms. Dare to see you. Yes, the owner's daughter. Right away, Sir."
"Go right ahead miss, Mr. Rone's office is on the top floor." Donut Dude looked kind of scared.
"Thank you, Dennis, for wasting my precious time! Gosh, If daddy knew the state of incompetence …" Rachel strutted off with her nose in the air and did a pretty good spoiled brat impression until we were in the elevator.
The doors closed and we keeled over laughing.
Dare Enterprises, Boston division, has 47 floors, and a terrible taste in elevator music. Why is it that you couldn't play normal music n an elevator, like One Republic or Lady Gaga? Why did it always have to be this classical junk?
"So, do you have a plan?" I asked Rachel.
She shook her head, "Don't you?"
I smiled. "Athena always has a plan."
Mr. Rone's office sure was ritzy. Everything seemed to be made of animal hides, leather furniture, furs hanging on the wall. In ornate frames were pictures of tropical wild places that the company had sawed down and built resorts on. I finally saw how big the company was. They had taken over entire islands. Rachel looked at the pictures sadly.
Mr. Rone sat behind his expensive-looking desk. Rachel walked right up to him and sat down in the large armchair on the opposite side of his desk. I sat down next to her.
"Hello, Robert." She addressed him with his first name, "I don't believe I've seen you since daddy's company Christmas party. This is my assistant, Anna Lace."
Mr. Rone reached out to shake Rachel's hand, but she waved him away. "I have come with a mission, Robert. I need a car with no questions, got it?"
Robert was about to sat that no, he did not get it, but Rachel cut him off. "Daddy has been having some troubles with the transportation department. He found that he was losing a lot of money because of driving issues. He was sending someone out to every division to see if the problem was incompetent cars, or employees; because the problem will simply have to be eliminated. So I need a car, something big, like a Suburban or an Excursion. And I need it fast, Robert, or I shall have to tell my daddy of the incompetent manager." She smiled sweetly, and Robert gulped.
"Of course, Ms. Dare. You may choose anything you like out of the car pool in the parking garage behind the building. Keys and $100 cash are in the glove compartment. Would you like me to call your father?"
"No! I mean, no thank you, Bob. I just called daddy before I walked into this horrid establishment, he has far better things to waste his time on than blathering on with an idiot like you. You will receive the results of your examination soon enough. Come, Anna."
Rachel whirled out of there like a tornado, taking me along and leaving Mr. Rone looking very pale.
"You're a brat." I told her as we were skipping out of the revolving doors.
She smiled, "Thank you."
When we walked outside, Morgan had made a new friend. She was scratching an alley cat behind the ears and it was purring somethin' fierce. Clarisse leaned against the wall, her eyes half closed.
"Come on, ya'll. We got a car, let's go."
"Can we bring him?" Morgan asked, pointing to the cat rubbing on her legs.
"No, we cannot bring the cat. It'll be fine on its own."
"Alright." Morgan frowned.
A few minutes later, we were sitting in a new Suburban. I drove and Rachel got shotgun. Morgan sat in the middle row while Clarisse sprawled out in the very back.
We drove through city traffic for a minute. Then we saw the Harbor. The ocean was pretty shades of blue and gray. I saw the place where you could be like our founding fathers and dump some tea into the harbor. I drove into the parking lot.
"Annabeth," Morgan complained, "I thought you agreed, no detours."
"Come on guys, let me look around, we can dump some tea into the water, and we'll be out of here before you know it."
The storm was starting to look scarier, though. I could see lightning forking in the distance. We got our boxes of tea and made a big production of throwing the bags into the water while yelling patriotic stuff.
"Give me liberty, or give me death!"
"No taxation without representation!"
"Take that, King George!"
"Red Coats suck!"
The tea leaves fell into the choppy waves. The water was going crazy from the oncoming storm. The tea swirled around in a wide circle. They kept spinning and spinning. Lightning flashed nearby, lighting up the whole scene. The leaves were forming a whirlpool. They kept spinning and the water opened up.
A bayonet stuck out of the whirlpool. Muskets are not very nice weapons. They were used a lot in revolutionary times. It was a huge gun that shot some nasty little musket balls of death, and just in case the shots didn't kill you. They strapped this pointy knife, a bayonet, to the end, because every weapon should have at least two ways to kill people.
Of course, following the musket was the rest of the undead British red coat; and of course, he had to bring his friends.
"How dare you mock us, yanks. Day after day, you throw precious tea into the harbor, reminding us of that day of failure. Well, we're done!" the red coats said in unison, "We will destroy this city and burn it to the ground. Of course, killing you seems like a good a way as any to start."
They aimed their muskets.
"You got a plan, wise girl?" Clarisse asked.
"Morgan, do that flamey thingy!"
"Got it!" Morgan squeezed her necklace, and the staff appeared in her hands. Her eyes and the magic stone radiated purple light. She swung her staff in front of her and purple flames leapt up across the water. The flames completely consumed the warriors. But, because they're undead and all, they're kind of hard to kill. The fire didn't seem to do anything at all. After a while, Morgan let it drop. The red coats may have been charred, but they were still armed and dangerous.
I was lost. We had absolutely no long range weapons at all. If we got out from behind that wall, we got shot.
Morgan slammed down her staff again. This time, the muskets exploded in their owner's faces. Only one monster disintegrated. They just drew their swords and ran up on shore. Fun time!
Against guns, not so good; against swords, I'm an expert. A few hacks, slashes, and slices later, I was left standing in a puddle of shadow. Clarisse destroyed 5 of them in a single sword swipe. Rachel managed to stab one in the back.
"Okay, maybe stopping for educational detours are bad ideas." I admitted.
"You think!" Everyone yelled in unision.