“Too long is right,” she said over her shoulder. “I can’t even remember the last time.” Mildred waited for an answer, but there was none. “John?”
“Yes.”
“I said, it’s been so long, I can’t remember when we did it last.”
“I don’t remember, either,” J.B. commented, “but I do know that it was great.”
Mildred smiled. “Such a romantic.”
She finished up in the bathroom and gave herself one last look in the mirror, putting her hands on her hips and twisting her body from side to side. “You’re definitely in for a treat, John Barrymore Dix,” she whispered.
She left the bathroom and found J.B. stretched out on the bed closest to the window. His eyes were closed and a half-eaten pear was in his right hand, hanging over the edge of the bed and poised to fall to the floor at any moment.
Mildred hurried to J.B.’s side. “Are you asleep, John?” she asked.
No answer.
“John?” She shook his arm, and the pear fell from his fingers. “Are you all right?”
“Huh? What?”
Mildred stood, hands on hips again and doing her best to look indignant. “I can’t believe you’d fall asleep when you knew you had this to look forward to.”
J.B. smiled and shook his head. “I can’t believe it either.” He pulled himself into a sitting position and took one of Mildred’s chocolate-brown nipples between his lips. At the same time he let his left hand slide down between her legs, gently feeling the invitingly warm and moist folds of flesh that beckoned for more than the touch of his fingers.
“Are you going to get out of your clothes, John?” Mildred asked. “Or am I going to have to strip you down like a blaster?”
“That would be, uh, interesting,” J.B. said as Mildred began to work on his belt.
“More than just interesting, Mr. Dix.” She leaned in close, whispering in J.B.’s ear. “I’m going to oil your blaster and pull your trigger. Only in this dream, it’s going to fire…round after round, until you’re all but out of ammo.”
J.B. pulled Mildred close to him, loving her long into the night until they were both spent.
JAK GOT THE MOST comfortable chair he could find and brought it out into the hall. After positioning it in front of the only open doorway to the second floor, he sat down and had a peach.
Down the hall he could hear Doc snoring like someone’s grandfather and wondered how Dean was able to sleep with so much noise.
He looked at his wrist chron. Just another hour to go before he could wake J.B. and get some rest himself.
The soft noises continued to resound along the hallway.
One hour was going to seem more like two.
SEC CHIEF GRUNWOLD pulled back the frame of the door so the rest of his sec men could enter the hotel without a sound. They tread lightly over the broken glass strewed about the lobby, their boots making slight crunching sounds as they walked.
“Fillinger,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Sir.”
“Do a recce of the hotel, find out where they are and report back to me.”
Fillinger was gone without a word, treading silently down the first-floor hallway on his way to the stairs.
“I want at least one man on each of the stairwells, and two outside on either side of the hotel. I don’t want these outlanders slipping away.”
The sec men scattered, each filling one of the posts Grundwold had outlined. The sec chief remained in the lobby by the front desk, using it as a makeshift command center.
Five minutes after he’d been sent away, Fillinger returned, only slightly out of breath. “They’re on the second floor. They’ve got a sentry posted in the hallway in front of the only unlocked door to the floor. The other entrances have all been locked, so my guess is the rest of them are getting some sleep, taking turns on watch through the night.”
“Good work.”
“Do you have a plan?” Fillinger asked.
“Not yet,” Grundwold said. “Give them some time to fall asleep, and for the sedatives to kick in. Meanwhile, I’m sure I’ll be able to figure something out.”
Chapter Eight
An hour later, Jak Lauren was having trouble keeping his eyes open. During his entire time on watch, he hadn’t heard a sound other than Doc’s snoring—which had mercifully toned down as the time traveler fell into a deeper sleep—and he’d found it hard to remain awake and alert.
But now that he’d finished his watch, he was eager to be relieved so he could crawl into bed for some much needed sleep. According to the rotation they’d used of late, J.B. followed Jak. J.B. would be followed by Mildred, then came Doc, Dean, Krysty and Ryan. Jak could have waited for J.B. to come and relieve him, but with a mat-trans jump and a long trek on foot there was no reason why anyone would be getting up from a sound sleep on his or her own.
Jak got up from his chair and went into Mildred and J.B.’s room. They were together on the same bed and fully dressed, J.B. on the right side, closer to the door. Jak nudged the Armorer’s shoulder in an attempt to wake him.
J.B. didn’t stir.
Jak tried again, this time nudging the man a little bit harder.
Still nothing.
Jak took firm hold of J.B.’s shoulder and arm and gave him a firm shake, as well as tapping him on the side of the head with a finger. That seemed to do the trick, because in an instant J.B.’s eyes were open and his hand was under the mattress reaching for his Tekna. In less than a second he had it raised and pointed at Jak. But even though his eyes were open, the sleep wasn’t quite gone from his mind. If Jak’s white hair and ruby-red eyes hadn’t been so distinctive, J.B. just might have run the teenager through with his blade.
“Your turn take watch,” Jak said, his right hand on J.B.’s wrist just to make sure he didn’t slip with the knife.
J.B. sighed, opened and closed his eyes several times and tried to bring himself to wakefulness. It wasn’t easy. He’d been awakened in similar circumstances many times before, but he’d never had so much trouble rousing himself. “I’ll be right there,” J.B. said.
“Good,” Jak replied, leaving the room. “Tired. Need sleep.”
J.B. closed his eyes again, but immediately opened them, knowing that if he allowed himself to drift off, he’d never get up. He sat up on the edge of the bed rubbing his hands vigorously over his face.
“Is everything all right, John?” Mildred asked, awakened by J.B.’s movements.
“Tired is all.”
“Do you want me to take your turn?”
“No, I’ll be fine.”
“Call me early for my shift if you need to,” Mildred muttered, sliding back into sleep.
“Sure.” J.B. laced up his boots, then grabbed his spectacles and fedora off the nightstand and put them on. He decided to take his scattergun with him. It would cover the entire hallway with a single shot, and the noise would surely awaken the rest