Ratio(17)

“This weekend is going to be different?” asked Amy, pressing the issue.

June sighed. “You have no idea how difficult it is to get time alone with Jack. He’s busy from noon till night. Plus, all the people around him all the time…”

“Oh, so, having a bicoastal relationship with the former ambassador to a large South American country and the man who is leading in the early polls for a presidential election is problematic? Didn’t mom and I say something like that a few months ago?”

“Yeah,” June muttered, watching her fingers wrestle with each other in her lap. She started to pick at a nail, but quit, since it was a fresh manicure from the evening before, as was her hair and a professional facial.

“All those bodyguards cramping your style?”

“Total pains in the butt.” June frowned. “Half the time I have more fun getting frisked by those guys than I do on dates with Jack. And forget about being alone in a room with him.”

Amy took the off ramp to the airport. “Yeah, well, I don’t mean to lecture, but if something special doesn’t happen this weekend, you seriously need to move on.”

“Oh, it’s gonna happen. I got that guarantee already.”

“Well, you look nice. Did Jonathan do your hair?”

“Last night.” Looking in the visor mirror, June stroked her hand through loose layers and long side swept bangs one last time. “It looks okay, though?”

“Your hair is great, the outfit is perfect, and I’m sure that speech will be just fine, whatever the hell it’s about.” Amy pulled the car to the curb in front of the departure lounge. She took something from the glove box and handed it to June, a small box in a flowery bag.

“What’s this?” June asked.

“Happy Birthday from me and the kids.”

“Oh damn! That’s this weekend, isn’t it? I’m so sorry, Sis. I totally forgot, with all the stuff going on lately.”

“Never mind. Just open it. It’s to wear this weekend.”

June pulled the wrapping paper off the small box. Underneath, there was a sleek, black case, the words Miko Jewelry printed in silver on top. The brand was part of Amy’s line of high fashion clothing, jewelry, and accessories.

“You’ve always liked those South Seas golden pearls, and I knew you’d never buy any for yourself,” said Amy, smiling as June pried open the box.

“Sis, this is too much.” June felt the large pearl pendant with her fingers, soft and smooth.

“Don’t worry. I got it at a discount.” She laughed. “I own the company, remember?”

June started to take it out. “Yeah, but…”

Amy waved her off. “Maybe put it on later at the hotel. LAX departures might not be the best place to flash that around.”

“I’ll find something in Seattle for you, okay?”

Amy shook her head, one hand resting on June’s shoulder. “Just relax and have some fun, okay? And try not to get into too much trouble.”

“You know me.” June smiled back, opening the car door.

“That’s exactly why I’m telling you to behave yourself,” said Amy. “And try not to get shot at this time, okay?”

June climbed out of the car. “No promises.”





Chapter 10





THE GARAGE HAD been soundproofed, blacked out. A single bulb hung from the ceiling, standing floor lamps providing the rest of the light. Jonny Yamada stood at the workbench preparing the final test. With practiced hands, he finished priming the detonation cord, stuffing the full length into a king size pillow. Double-stranded and packed with high-density pentaerythritol tetranitrate, the homemade 160-grain-per-foot explosive was designed to detonate with a velocity far in excess of four miles per second, packing enough punch to carve through solid rock.

More than enough for what he needed.

Carefully, Jonny set the pillow down on the floor. Standing in the corner of the garage was an old mannequin, raided from a department store dumpster earlier in the week. He grabbed it, lugging it over to his work station. The figure was missing a couple of limbs, but no matter. Slowly, he laid the mannequin down, resting its head on the soft pillow. Satisfied, he called his girlfriend through into the garage. She appeared a few seconds later, hanging in the doorway.

“You ready, or what?” Jonny said.

“Like I have a choice, right?” she said, her Filipino accent betraying her nerves; it always broke through when she got stressed. Jet black hair, toned body, dark skin, she knew she looked good and wasn’t afraid to flaunt it a little. Her deep brown eyes settled on the mannequin laying on the garage floor. “You’ve been busy.”