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grateful that Fionna's manager, at least, was cooperating willingly with Intelligence. It would make things far easier in the long run. She could save what was left of her energy for making security arrangements. Mr. Ringwall would probably be pleased at the cost savings. The room tariff was remarkably expensive, even by London standards. Preston, the security man, was still shooting daggers her way. Her ABC Amber LIT Converter http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html a a T T n n s s F F f f o o D D r r P P m m Y Y e e Y Y r r B B 2 2 . . B B A A Click here to buy Click here to buy w w m m w w o o w w c c . . . . A A Y Y B B Y Y B B r r ABC Amber LIT Converter http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html very presence was an affront to him. Well, if he could scare away bogeys, she wouldn't be here! Her legs felt heavy and tired as she followed Fionna toward the lift alcove. She watched the singer saunter with ease, as if she had not been up all night, had not spent nine hours cramped in a plane. Of course, one of the two of them had been in a First Class couch, with attendants to rub her feet, while the other had been stuffed into a lightly-padded sardine can with two other people. Her old school chum, Elizabeth thought with amusement. Who'd have thought it? She was not the only person watching Fionna make her grand way through the lobby. Suddenly, one of the odd characters appeared at Elizabeth's elbow. He gave her an engaging grin. "One weird lookin' mama, ma'am," he said. Elizabeth gave him a weakly polite smile, and continued walking. Fionna vanished around one of the faux marble pillars flanking the far end of the lobby. Elizabeth hurried to catch up. "How long you think she takes on painting up every morning, huh?" the character persisted, striding alongside her. "Every little line like that takes time." "Look," Elizabeth said, spinning on her heel. She gave him the full headmistress's voice, starting low and threatening to rise to the painted plaster ceiling. "If you do not leave me alone I'll summon hotel security, and have you thrown out of here." She glanced toward the desk, where the young woman was already helping someone else to check in. "Oh, you don't want to do that, Liz," he said, shaking his head, stepping up so he was level with her. "Make things rougher for you and me." Liz? Elizabeth stared. "How do you know my name?" The man put out his hand. "Beauray Boudreau, ma'am. Call me Boo- Boo. I'm supposed to be working with you. Didn't they tell you?" "You?" she asked. The man had very intense blue eyes that beamed with sincerity and savvy. His sharp cheekbones and nose outlined a mouth that was thin-lipped but quick to smile. His wrists and neck were whipcord thin, and they disappeared into a disreputable, ragged hunting jacket that might once have been khaki. His jeans were untidy and threadbare, and he wore sneakers without any socks. His blond hair was very short, but the severe cut didn't lend him an iota of ABC Amber LIT Converter http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html a a T T n n s s F F f f o o D D r r P P m m Y Y e e Y Y r r B B 2 2 . . B B A A Click here to buy Click here to buy w w m m w w o o w w c c . . . . A A Y Y B B Y Y B B r r ABC Amber LIT Converter http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html respectability. "You're with the FBI?" "Yes'm," he said. "Oh! Well, yes," Elizabeth said to this apparition, trying to collect her thoughts. "They did tell me there'd be someone working with me, but they didn't say what I mean, who." Boudreau laughed heartily. "Don't blame you none for being skittish. You're new around here. I know a lot of visitors think all of us Americans must be gangsters or hillbillies, but we're more than we seem. We're kinda used to it. Oh, by the way," he reached into one of the dozens of pockets that made up nearly held together the body of the hunting jacket. He presented her with a manila envelope that had been folded twice to fit in a pocket. "Here's your dossier. They said you'd be wantin' that first off." "Thank you," Elizabeth said, examining it surreptitiously to make certain there were no insects clinging to it. She glanced quickly back toward the reception desk to see if there was any reaction to her and her odd escort. No one was paying any attention. New Orleans must see people like Boudreau slope in and out every day. She started to open the envelope flap, keeping the edge close to herself so Boudreau couldn't see in. "Some mighty interestin' readin' in there," he continued, conversationally. "I'll just look forward to chewin' it over with you, when you've had a chance to clean up." Elizabeth noticed the adhesive strip had already been broken. She stared at him, outraged. Putting a finger in her pie without permission! "How dare you read my briefing before I do! I'll tell you what I think is appropriate for you to know." "Ah." Boudreau tipped his head back and half-lidded his eyes so they glinted with blue fire. He no longer looked like an innocent street lunatic. He looked like a fully aware and possibly dangerous street lunatic. "I'm so sorry, ma'am. I thought we was supposed to be sharin' information. I'll just be sure to remember that for gettin' you around the city and all, tellin' you only what you need to know." Elizabeth was instantly contrite, and wary. She didn't need to have his meaning spelled out for her. Cooperation. Hands across the water. Special relationship between Great Britain and the United States of America. She was in a strange city, and she needed this strange man to help her complete her mission. He knew it, and she knew it. She took a long breath. Time to start over. ABC Amber LIT Converter http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html a a T T n n s s F F f f o o D D r r P P m m Y Y e e Y Y r r B B 2 2 . . B B A A Click here to buy Click here to buy w w m m w w o o w w c c . . . . A A Y Y B B Y Y B B r r ABC Amber LIT Converter http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html "I am so sorry," she said. "I am not thinking. I'm exhausted, and it's been a trying day. HQ threw me in at the deep end. I was assigned to this only just before the flight left." "And it's wrong of me to be so inhospitable," Boudreau said, bowing low so that the frayed end of his sleeve brushed her shoes. "We'll get your bag up to your room. You have a chance to wash up, and then we'll tell each other things." * * *
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