The Second Ship (The Rho Agenda #1)(51)

A sudden exclamation from the principal’s office caused her to glance inside.

“I’m in,” Jennifer exclaimed. “I just need a couple more minutes to access the CTV and activate it.”

“Thank God,” Heather gasped, then, realizing that she was no longer watching the hall, moved back over to that doorway.

Just a little luck now, she thought. Just give us a little luck. Those thoughts splattered against the pavement of her mind as Ms. Gorsky rounded the corner of the hall fifty feet away, shaking a plump finger pointedly at Principal Zumwalt, who walked beside her.

Out of time. Heather’s knees nearly buckled as she lunged forward, racing down the hallway, crashing directly into Ms. Gorsky, then ricocheting off to stumble sprawled out on the floor.

“What in the name of all that is holy?” Ms. Gorsky gasped, having almost fallen herself. A look of stunned surprise quickly changed to one of fury as she rushed toward where Heather lay grasping her ankle.

As the large teacher reached her hand toward Heather, Principal Zumwalt stopped her.

“What?” Ms. Gorsky almost screamed.

Principal Zumwalt turned his stern face toward her, his stare silencing the outburst, although Ms. Gorsky’s face looked like an oil well that was about to blow.

As he turned back toward Heather, his eyes locked her own, robbing her of her voice.

“What is the meaning of this, Ms. McFarland?”

Heather gulped. “Ow. I’m sorry, Principal Zumwalt. I was running for the bathroom. I held it so long I didn’t think I could make it.”

The desperation in her face was more real than either Principal Zumwalt or Ms. Gorsky could imagine, even though the reason behind it hardly matched her excuse. Heather let go of her bladder, a wet spot spreading rapidly across the floor beneath her.

She began to sob, something that took no effort whatsoever. “I’m so sorry. And I think I hurt my ankle too. I’m so sorry.”

For once both Principal Zumwalt and Ms. Gorsky were rendered momentarily speechless.

Principal Zumwalt was the first to recover. “Ms. Gorsky, go get the school nurse. Quickly now.”

As Ms. Gorsky sped off back down the hallway, the principal leaned down.

“Heather, look at me a second. Can you move your ankle?”

Heather wiggled it. “Ow. It hurts, but I don’t think it’s broken. I’m so sorry about peeing on your floor.” She began sobbing again.

The principal smiled down at her tenderly. “It happens to all of us at some time or other. I can see why you were running. Can you stand up now if I help you?”

Heather stood, gingerly testing her right ankle before putting weight on it. Her jeans were soaked from crotch to knees, and now she had pee on her tennis shoes. With a hand on Principal Zumwalt’s shoulder, she took a couple of hopping steps away from the puddle, her face a bright beet red.

Just then Ms. Gorsky arrived with Mrs. Harold. The nurse took one look at the scene and then bent to examine Heather’s ankle. After several seconds of moving it around, drawing small gasps of fake pain from Heather, she stood once again.

“It’s Heather, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Heather.

“Well, Heather, it’s definitely not broken. I think you may have a slight sprain, though. Here. Take my arm and I’ll help you down to my office so I can wrap that ankle. We’ll retrieve your gym clothes while we run your wet things through the washer and dryer.”

“Thank you so much,” Heather said.

As Heather glanced back, she saw Jennifer peer briefly out of the waiting room, giving her a quick thumbs-up before disappearing back inside.

As Heather limped down the hall, the custodian walked past her pushing a mop bucket. As he reached the spot of the accident, the school bell rang, immediately filling the halls with young humanity.

“Stay clear of the pee spot on the floor! Stay clear of the pee!”

The custodian’s bellow, accompanied by the stares as students began to notice her soaked pants, brought a new shade of red to Heather’s cheeks before she could duck inside the nurse’s office.

As Mrs. Harold began wrapping the ace bandage around her foot, Heather moaned again. And this time the moan was for real. She knew she should feel lucky that Jennifer had been successful. But somehow, sitting there in soaking-wet pants, stinking of pee, her level of appreciation for her good luck failed to reach the appropriate level.





Chapter 34





“So, Dave, what have you got for me?” Riles looked over Kurtz’s right shoulder at the banks of computer monitors.

David Kurtz turned toward his boss and shrugged. “A whole lot of nothing as far as I can tell.”

“What do you mean? I thought the search was narrowing in on something.”

Kurtz nodded vigorously enough that if the floor had not been a static-free raised platform, Riles would have expected to see bolts of electricity arcing between the wild strands of his hair.

“Oh, we narrowed in all right. Right to a computer in the Russian Ministry of Transportation. This one is physically located in Terminal Two of the Sheremetyevo International Airport.”

“Moscow?”

“You’ve got it, sir.”

“One of the secure systems?” asked Riles.