Steve was one of the guards remaining behind. The other was a Hispanic man I didn?t recognize but whose sunglasses were dark enough to either be prescription strength or render him effectively blind. He would have seemed tall next to anyone else; next to Steve, he looked like a normal human.
Shifting Lois?s carrier to my left hand, I looked toward Steve. ?Babysitters??
?Bodyguards,? Steve replied, without levity. ?You folks came close to dying out there on the road. We?d like to see to it that you don?t do it again.?
?So we don?t do any long-distance driving.?
?Not good enough.?
Shaun stepped up beside me. ?Are you planning to stop us from doing our jobs??
?No. Just to keep an eye on you while you do them.?
I could feel Shaun starting to bristle. Being an Irwin means frequently taking stupid chances for the amusement of the cameras. A good Irwin can make going to the corner store for a candy bar and a Coke look death defying and suicidal. The idea of trying to post reports with a security guard looking over his shoulder was probably about as appealing to Shaun as the idea of censorship was to me. I put a hand on his arm.
?So you?re saying our jobs have become so dangerous that we need to be protected not from the hazards of the living dead, but from the hazards presented by our fellow man?? I asked.
?Not exactly how I would?ve put it, but you?re in the neighborhood,? said Steve.
Shaun relaxed grudgingly. ?I guess it?ll sound good in the headlines,? he said, his tone implying that it wouldn?t do anything of the kind.
At least he was mollified. Leaving my hand on Shaun?s arm, I swung my head around until I was facing the second agent, not depending on my questionable peripheral vision. ?I?m Georgia Mason; this is my brother, Shaun Mason. You would be???
?Andres Rodriguez, ma?am,? he replied. His tone was level. ?Do I pass muster??
?That?s a question for the grand jury. You can, however, take us to our hotel now.? Lois yowled. I amended: ?Right now. I think someone?s getting cranky.?
?The cat isn?t the only one,? Shaun said.
?Behave,? I said. Keeping the hand that wasn?t holding the carrier on his arm, we turned and followed the agents to the car.
Steve and Andres took the front, leaving us with the back seat. A sheet of soundproof safety glass cut us off from our bodyguards, turning them into vaguely imposing silhouettes that might as well have been in another car. It was a small blessing, even if I couldn?t quite bring myself to relax. I didn?t trust it. I didn?t feel like I really trusted anything anymore.
Shaun opened his mouth when the engine started, but I shook my head, gesturing toward the overhead light. He quieted. Without Buffy and her tiny armada of clever devices, we had no way of knowing whether the car was bugged. It turned out that even with Buffy we?d had no real way of knowing whether the car was bugged, since she?d sold us out, but at least we?d believed we could protect our privacy.
Brow furrowed, Shaun mouthed ?Hotel?? I nodded. Once we were in our own space with our own things, we could sweep for bugs and set up an EMP field. After that, we could talk in something resembling security?and we needed to talk. We needed to talk about a lot of things.
The drive from the CDC airstrip to the hotel took approximately twenty minutes. It would have taken longer, but Steve took advantage of the priority override available to government officials and law enforcement, turning on the car?s beacon and sliding us straight into the fast side of the carpool lane. The tollbooths flashed green as soon as we came into receiving range. Electronic pay passes have led to a general speed-up, but nothing moves your average driver as fast as knowing that someone else is picking up the ticket for his commute. We must have provided a free pass for dozens of commuters. That almost made up for the fact that we were cutting ahead of them during the beginning rush hour, when five minutes can make the difference between ?home at a reasonable hour? and ?late for dinner.?
Lois yowled the whole way, while Shaun made a vague, disinterested show of trying to pick the lock on his side of the car. My brother?s good with locks; the car?s security was better. He?d made no progress by the time we pulled off the freeway and turned toward the hotel, and he put away his lock picks with a silent expression of disgust.