Chapter 19: Bait in the Trap

They were parked outside Radio Shack in Vacaville, with three freshly purchased Trackimos, all on charge in the nice modern rental’s USB ports.

Mia was searching for a ‘clinic’... “Okay, this looks perfect: ‘Vacaville Urgent Care. Special pricing for cash-paying customers. New patients can register quickly and conveniently.’ We have to ring, but then we can go straight there.”

Half an hour later Grace had a new backpack with some essentials in. Her gun was in the backpack, with one tracker, waiting to be found by a secret illegal faction of the CIA. It was quite James Bond. Okay it was totally James Bond.

There were two Graces at the moment. One Grace was desperate to burst into tears and be pathetic. The other was the Grace who was going to rescue her mum and the sweet aliens whatever it took. She just had to keep being that focussed rescuing Grace and not lose it. Sometime later there’d be time for emotional Grace to re-emerge, after she’d done what had to be done and Mia had come and saved her.

They called in at a drugstore, used the restrooms, then drove to the clinic, where she held the glass door open for Mo. He gave her a little smile. He seemed to be listening and understanding even if he wasn’t saying anything.

“Hello,” she smiled at the dumpy middle-aged receptionist, who immediately passed her a form to fill in and took her secret CIA credit card and put it briskly into the slot. The receptionist was polite, but just barely, as Grace entered the pin that was actually scratched on it, made up an address and did the signature.

“Well, Hi!” an effervescent thirty-something man in green overalls appeared straight away. He looked at Mo. “So you’ve had an accident, huh? Well don’t worry we have everything you need. Come through and let’s have a look at you. Are you coming ma’am? Are you his sister or something?”

Grace just smiled, not committing herself as she followed him and Mo into an examination room. She wasn’t remotely like a sister of Mo would be. The doctor didn’t seem to care anyway. He called a nurse in, soaked off the T-shirt bandage, inspected and talked at speed, and gave Mo injections for pain, tetanus and shock, and an antibiotic.

He didn’t say anything about it being obviously a gunshot wound. Instead he gushed about how the two of them obviously worked out and were in great shape. The guy was more like a salesman than any doctor she’d ever met. He bathed the wounds in something and stuck proper dressings on. Grace only just had time to see that the holes weren’t really bleeding any more before they were covered. In twenty minutes the doctor was ushering them back out to reception.

“Okay it’s been a pleasure to meet you,” he said as Grace realised that that was the treatment finished and she had to say ‘thank you’. “Myra will see to your account. So take it easy and if symptoms worsen then get him to a hospital okay? Like the one just across the street. But he should be fine in a few days. Have a great day.”

Grace went to sign the card amount and discovered the reason why the receptionist was acting defensive - it was $1299! Grace nearly said something, but didn’t quite dare. Perhaps this was how they treated illegal gunshot wounds in the States? Anyway at least it was the bad guys’ money.

But now they had to leave and the CIA agents hadn’t had time to detect their credit card being used and come and grab them. “Is there somewhere round here we can get something to eat?” she asked.

“There’s a couple of pizza places and a Taco Bell down the street,” the receptionist pointed.

“Okay, pizza sounds nice,” Grace said to Mo as she turned away.

Mo was looking a bit revived; perhaps the anti-shock injection had worked. As she took his hand he seemed strong enough to walk down to the pizza place, where they could wait for Honeyeva to turn up. Hopefully she wouldn’t be TOO pissed about the SUV. And hopefully she and Toyboyski would give the old bag in the clinic a good scare when they asked where the British girl and her hot boyfriend had gone.

“BAF Specialities,” said Mia definitely, looking at the map. “Like Grace said they’ll be trying to find us, and they probably practice shooting every week so we need an edge. They’ll find a tracker and know we’re coming, even if they don’t know about the third one. We need a surprise.”