004 Spinning Ice in a Scotch Glass.


With the new voice, Nathaniel heard the door slam, shutting out the night and the cool air. He threw down the file folder that he had been holding and turned to the sound as the car moved forward into the quagmire of New York traffic. Now that they were safe and away, they could get down to the nitty-gritty.

“What’s the word on the girl?” he asked.

His companion averted his gaze. She looked straight ahead as if looking at him would turn her into salt. If the news was as bad as he thought, it probably would be worse than that if she did look at him.

“The girl has somehow escaped,” she replied with no emotion.

Nathaniel groaned and resisted the urge to punch the window out next to him. All of this planning and preparing… He sighed heavily and tried to remain calm. The last thing he needed to do was cause carnage by obliterating a window. That would really wreck the night.

“How did this happen?” he demanded evenly. It was a wonder he hadn’t broken anything yet. Amid his frustration, he noticed that his question hadn’t been answered. “Pandora?”

“She ran,” was the stony reply. Pandora turned to him, her ice-blue eyes boring a whole through his control like an ice pick. “She got to the park and was rescued by a stranger.”

A stranger. The snake of uncertainty had reared its ugly head in his brain. There’s no telling what would happen now. It was all turning awry like an episode of Jerry Springer. She would probably go to the police with her kidnapping story and his plans would be blown sky high.

“Nathaniel, do not worry.” Nathaniel gazed at her as if she had lost all of her marbles. Maybe she had. It would explain the breach in his plans.

“What are you thinking, Pandora?”

Pandora reached over and pulled out a glass filled with ice. She poured a brown liquid into it and then handed it to him. A peace offering? He took it silently, still wondering what in the world she had up her sleeve. She was turning into a world-class schemer by the minute. I must be rubbing off on her.

“The only thing we can do now is wait, doctor,” she advised. She flicked off an imaginary speck of dust off of her dark Armani suit. “After all, immediate action would only hinder our plans.”

Nathaniel nodded. He took a sip of his drink, the liquid flowing through him and calming his bruised nerves. He found he could think better when he wasn’t on the verge of dementia. “You’re right. We should wait a little bit before taking action.”

The driver suddenly looked to him in the rearview. “Where to, Dr. Mitchell?”

Nathaniel set the glass down in a cupholder nearby. “Back to my place,” he replied simply. “We need to re-organize our plans.”
The driver nodded knowingly and drove in the appropriate direction. Nathaniel watched as the buildings passed them by in quick succession, one after another. Pandora patted his hand from beside him. Nathaniel looked to her and she gave him a single nod.

Nathaniel’s eyes drifted back toward the file folder. All of his hopes and dreams rested on this one girl, the promise of her strength and agility. The pendulum was going to swing and hopefully it was going to be in the right direction—his direction. Things were going to turn out well, and he was going to make sure by any means necessary. If they didn’t, his world would be turned upside down, going in no direction like spinning ice in a scotch glass.


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