Saints Astray (Santa Olivia #2) - Page 22/73

“Jaime would love this,” Pilar murmured.

“Yeah.” They exchanged a glance.

They learned quickly, and a week after the concert, Clive took the step of presenting them both with their own fully equipped Dataphones. “Have a care with those,” he advised them. “That’s a valuable piece of equipment.”

Loup examined hers. “What’s it do?”

“In a word? Everything.”

They practiced using the GPS system to plot routes between hypothetical destinations. Clive gave them Global’s limited-access password and they practiced accessing the database to obtain blueprints of hotels and public venues and perform risk-assessment analyses using software programs augmented by common sense. They practiced using the voice-activated software to make phone calls. They practiced mundane skills like making airline reservations. They snapped photos of each other.

“You took one of me sleeping?” Loup asked, flipping through Pilar’s.

“Mm-hmm.” She looked over her shoulder. “Look how cute you are! You look so innocent and harmless. Like a little cherub with messy hair.”

“I like the ones I took of you better.”

“In the lingerie?” Pilar smiled and ran a finger around the curve of Loup’s ear. “Don’t let Clive see them.”

She shivered. “I won’t.”

They learned to drive, which proved to be an adventure.

For that, Clive took them to a professional driving school. They sat through the lectures and practiced on the simulator. Pilar managed tolerably well in and out of the classroom, but it was on the actual course that Loup struggled, unable to find the balance between her own fast reflexes and the unfamiliar velocity of a moving vehicle.

“Jaysus!” The instructor, a capable woman named Sally, grabbed a safety strap as Loup veered too sharply around an obstacle. “Slow down!”

She braked—too hard, too fast. They both lurched forward. “Sorry!”

“Right.” Sally caught her breath. “You’re overreacting, love.”

“Yeah, I know,” Loup said. “I’m having a hard time getting the feel of it, you know? I’m used to being in my own body. This is different.”

The instructor blinked. “Well… yes.”

“Never mind. I’ll get it.”

It took about twenty hours of driving time with Sally the instructor sitting white-knuckled beside her, but eventually Loup established a rapport with the physics of driving. Once she did, she got good, fast. When the course of instruction ended, she and Pilar took their official road tests and passed.

“Check us out,” Pilar said with satisfaction, gazing at her brand-new international driver’s license. “We are becoming women of many skills.”

“Well, Guadalupe Herrera and Pilar Mendez are.”

“Close enough.”

Driving lessons were followed by a two-day seminar in first aid and CPR. They treated and resuscitated sophisticated dummies.

“Oops.” Pilar, administering chest compressions, winced as the buzzer indicating she’d broken a rib went off. She watched Loup’s technique. “How come you’re not breaking any bones, Supergirl?”

“Dunno. I’ve had more practice being careful with other people’s bodies, I guess.”

“Mmm. True.”

After they received their CPR certification, Clive split up their training, sending Pilar to work with Adelaide to learn more practical personal assistant skills, while he brought in the jujitsu instructor he’d mentioned earlier to teach Loup about pressure points. He was a quiet, unassuming man named Dominick, and he smiled with genuine pleasure when Loup shook his hand.

“Oh, my yes!” he said to Clive. “If she’s got the knack, I can work with her.”

Dominick demonstrated a few harmless pressure points to Loup—points on the wrist that weakened an opponent’s grip when pressed.

“Wow.” She felt her hand grow numb. “Cool.”

“Others cause severe pain, even unconsciousness.” He put his knuckle in the hollow below the hinge of her jaw, pressing lightly. “Here. A sharp blow can knock out an opponent, but even merely grinding produces severe pain.”

“Show me.”

Dominick hesitated, glancing at Clive.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Taz can take it.”

He ground his knuckle hard into her flesh, angling toward the center of her head. “Whoa!” Loup blinked at the resulting pain, stars shooting across her vision. She ignored it and concentrated on memorizing the exact spot, angle, and amount of pressure. “Okay, I think I got it.”

Dominick removed his hand, uncertain. “You felt it?”

“Well, it hurt like hell, yeah.”

“I thought perhaps your physiognomy made a difference. There’s usually a more, ah, pronounced reaction.”

“It’s just pain. And I didn’t think I was supposed to fight back,” Loup said, glancing at Clive. “Was I?”

“No, no.” He was grinning. “You did exactly right, darlin’. You’re me golden girl. Can you do it?” He thrust out his pugnacious chin, tapped the spot below his jaw. “Show me.”

She did.

“Gah!” Clive jerked away. “She’s got the touch, sure enough.” He looked at Loup with pride. “That’s the finest in American engineering at work, Dom, me lad. They may be paranoid, belligerent bastards, but they do good work.”

“Actually, it’s Chinese,” Loup offered. “And I wasn’t engineered. Just born.”

“Huh?” He peered at her. “You don’t look Chinese.”

“No, I know. My father was from Haiti. That’s where the Chinese did the experiments, because it was a really poor country and they could get away with anything. The Americans took over the facility when my father was just a kid.”

Clive scratched his head. “I’ll be damned. I never knew that.”

“Yeah,” Loup agreed. “There’s a lot people don’t know.”

He looked thoughtful. “Too right, that. You’re nothing like I’d have expected a geemo to be.”

“How’s that?” Loup asked.

Clive pursed his lips. “I can’t say, exactly. But not so… normal. You’re a lot like a regular girl, Taz.” He eyed her. “Except in all the ways you ain’t.”

She worked with Dominick for a few more days, learning a variety of pressure points—how to exploit them and the dangers of doing so. When they were finished, he bowed from the waist, smiling. “Thank you. It has been an unexpected privilege to teach such an unusual pupil.”

Loup returned an exact copy of his bow. “Thanks, sir.”

That night, lying in bed, she told Pilar about it.

“It reminded me of Floyd,” Loup said. “Coach Roberts. He said something like that once. When I was deciding for sure to go through with the fight.”

“I remember,” Pilar said softly.

Loup shook her head. “No, it was after you left me so that I could decide. The day I actually did. I just wish I knew what happened to him. He risked everything to train me, you know?”

“Yeah.” She propped herself on one elbow. “ ’Cause it was the right thing to do, and he fucking well knew it. But we’ll find out, baby. We will.”

“You think?”

“Uh-huh.” Pilar leaned over and kissed her. “I do.”

The following day Clive summoned both of them together. He was all smiles.

“I’ve got another field trip for you, girlies.”

Pilar brightened. “Is it another band?”

“No, but I think you’re gonna like this one.” He pointed at her. “It’s Fashion Week in London and some high-and-mighty Italian designer who doesn’t usually deign to leave the Continent is showing. Seems there’s an issue with his usual security detail.”

“Fashion designers need security?” Loup asked.

“This one thinks he does. Vincenzo Picco.” Clive lowered his voice. “Word is he comes from a Mafia family.”

“Like in the movies?” Pilar asked.

“It’s just a rumor. But at any rate, he’s a right paranoid bloke, and he always travels with a four-man detail. If this snafu doesn’t get untangled in the next two days, Global’s going to provide security.” He pointed at Loup. “You’ll be on his detail. You’ll be junior to the others and do whatever they tell you.”

“Okay.”

“What about me?” Pilar asked.

“You’ll assist his assistant.” Clive smiled wryly. “Poor thing’s going to have her hands full, and she doesn’t know the first thing about London.”

“Neither do I.”

“Right.” He nodded. “I suggest you start learning. Might want to access the Italian language module, too. I’m not sure how much English these folks speak.” He looked serious. “If this comes through, this is going to be your first real test out in the field. So don’t slack on this one, girlies. Make me proud.”

They nodded.

“Hey, Clive?” Pilar said. “We probably need some new clothes, right? I mean, escorting a big designer and all.”

He smiled and tossed a credit card at her. “As a matter of fact, you will. Hang on to this. If the deal’s on, in two days you’re going shopping.”

“Ooh, yay!”

SIXTEEN

Operation Designer was a go.

Clive accompanied them to London on the train. “I’ll introduce you to the head of the security team,” he said to them. “And you can contact me at need. Other than that, you’re gonna be on your own, understand? I’m not gonna hold your hands.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sì, signore,” Pilar added.

He smiled a little. “Wish this hadn’t come up before we got to deportment and elocution.”