Chapter 20: Hot Water

I do think the next one is it.

Mark held up his hand and gestured for everyone to ease back a little. "Let's all back off and try to find out what's going on. If you're Secret Service, you have a partner and some backup real close. Call them in and you'll all show us some ID to start. Sam, stand by."

In an instant, Sam stepped back and yelled, "Alert!" The White security team did a heads up and placed their hands on their side arms.

"What?" Rachel exclaimed. She looked at Mark, "What's going on, Hon?"

The local police saw the movement of the bodyguards and tensed up. Three men came around from the street side of the garage with their own automatic weapons at the ready. Sam had already drawn his heavy three fifty-seven-magnum Colt and opened fire on the nearest intruder.

"Get him!" Mark yelled and pointed at the man who claimed to be Secret Service. Claire, glad to have someone to vent her anger and frustrations on, ran up behind him and grabbed him by the neck. She bit the top off his ear. Rachel leaned into him and brought her mouth to his, as if in a kiss. The man screamed when she bit a large hunk out of his upper lip.

Cole staggered over and dropped down on the man, just as he fell to the ground. Cole eased a small antique twenty-seven caliber German made World War Two officers' sidearm. He slipped it out of its holster and rolled away from the tangled bodies of Rachel, Claire and the stranger.

Still on his belly, Cole extended both arms straight out, just like he had seen it done on TV. He carefully tracked one of the armed intruders, sighted in on his chest and squeezed the trigger. "Man, I hope Mark sees me now!" he yelled.

Cole's bullet struck the man he aimed at high up on his inner thigh. "Damn!" Cole exclaimed and squeezed off another shot. This one creased the man's temple, above the ear. He jerked once and lay still. "Better!" Cole exclaimed and sought another target.

Wendy crawled up to Cole and whimpered, "Cole, I'm scared."

"Don't worry," Cole yelled, "I'll protect you. Rachel witnessed the byplay between the two teens and almost smiled. Then her attention was diverted by the confusion around them.

The local police got into the act and the three intruders were all lying on the ground. The local cop in a suit yelled, "Everyone drop your weapons, cease fire!"

An older uniformed cop holstered his gun and shook his head. "Jesus," he exclaimed, "I have a full thirty in and this is the first time I've fired my weapon, except to qualify on the firing range."

Sam and the White protection team holstered their weapons. Cole slipped his confiscated sidearm into his pocket. "This one I get to keep," he whispered to Wendy. "Don't say anything."

Minutes later one of the San Diego Swat Teams arrived and assumed tactical control. Three men and a woman from San Diego Police Headquarters arrived and checked the area for news media. Their job was to look good for the cameras.

The trip to police headquarters was short and did nothing but irritate Mark further. He felt frustrated to be impotent and powerless to protect his own. The FBI assumed control and requested that the local police help Mark's group to find temporary lodging.

"Just get us someplace safe and let us relax. I hate all this damned violence," Rachel told them.

"Yes," Wendy whispered and snuggled closer to Cole.

Less than a half hour later, Mark, and his group were taken to the American Hotel and registered into a whole wing of the top floor. As the group of fourteen entered the hotel, Mark laughed.

"My god, Mark, how can you laugh at a time like this." Rachel's ragged sounding voice brought Mark back to the present. "We were almost killed back there. Our home is destroyed and we..." She shuddered and Mark held her in a tight hug."

"Easy Babe, just calm down. Remember the other time we were here? I was wondering if we could get our old suite back. We had a lot of fun that time."

"Yes, and you beat up on Claude, made your mother undress and got in a big argument with the police."

"Now that sounds kinky," Sam laughed at them. "I want to hear about that part where you got your mom undressed. Mine weighed three hundred pounds and I never got tempted." He laughed at the dirty look Rachel gave him.

Claire, on the other hand, looked at Sam with new interest. She smiled and patted him on the cheek, "Sorry, kinky guy, Mark was searching for anything I had and he thought I shouldn't. Let's go get a cup of coffee and I'll tell you all about it."

"Hold it," a uniformed cop said. He was guarding the door. "We all stay on this floor until the boss says otherwise."

"Call down for room service, Mom," Mark suggested. "Claim a room for yourself and talk to Sam in there." She looked at her son and blushed.

Mark chose a room for Rachel and him. Wendy gave Cole a soft smile and told him, "You choose which room we take."

Cole looked at her is surprise, "But I thought you said you wouldn't sleep with me." He tried to understand this new development.

"Cole," she started and then paused. "Before you decided what I wanted to do without asking me. This time I decided and told you. Don't you understand the difference?" She looked ready to cry, when she added, "Besides, I'm scared and want you near me."

He gave her a smug, tight-lipped smile. "Nope, I don't understand what you mean and what's more I don't care. All I do care about is that you want me with you. Sit on my lap." She got out of her chair and eased herself slowly down. Cole hugged her around the waist. They both sighed.

"What are we going to do about crutches?" Wendy looked to Cole, confident he'd have an answer.

"Hey Mark," Cole shouted across the room. "Can you call that place where you got my power-chair and order me another one? Please? We need two extra battery packs installed and two pairs of forearm crutches."

"Tell them to hurry," Wendy said and snuggled back against Cole's chest.

Mark came across the room and gave Cole the name of the medical supply house. Cole placed the order, then added, "I'll give the delivery guy an extra hundred if you get them here in less than two hours.

"I'll bring them myself," the young woman who answered the phone told him and disconnected.

Fifty-nine minutes later, the cordless phone in the suite trilled. Cole, Wendy, Rachel and Mark had commandeered for their own use. "We have a delivery here for Cole Hunter," the room service clerk

"That's a power chair and two sets of crutches, right?" Cole asked.

"Yes sir, I'll have a bell person bring them right up to you." The woman on the phone said.

"You just send them up with the delivery girl," Cole ordered. "I want to thank her."

"I'm sorry sir, but we cannot allow a non guest free run of the hotel. Our wait staff is quite competent."

"You tell that girl to wait right there I'm coming down to her." Cole hung up and asked Sam to get him some help as he walked to the front desk.

"I'll help you, Cole. We have more protection up here than is needed right now." Sam offered Cole his arm and they did a slow walk to the door.

As soon as they approached the desk, Cole looked around. "Where's the wheel chair?" he asked.

"I sent her away. Our wait people make all in hotel deliveries as a matter of policy." The woman looked down her nose at Cole.

"God damn!" Sam yelled at her and slammed his palm down hard on the desk. The desktop caved in at the point of the strike. "You had better get her back here immediately, you dumb bitch." The woman fainted.

Cole whipped out his phone and hit the redial. When a voice at the medical supply house answered, Cole explained what happened. "Can you call her and ask her to come right back? We straightened things out. I'll wait here in the lobby for her.

Just as he disconnected, a man in a maroon blazer approached them. "What happened here?" he demanded.

"She tried my patience," Sam answered.

"What happened to the counter?" the man asked.

"Iron hand," Sam answered with an embarrassed look. "I lost my temper."

"I want her fired," Cole demanded and looked at the dazed woman, as she got up off the floor. The man ignored him.

"Now I know how Mark felt," Cole muttered to himself.

"Sam, would you call upstairs and ask Mark to send a cop down here, please? Make it a sergeant or better. I want him to get hold of the hotel manager and tell him that since we're spending over three thousand dollars a day, we want decent service. Also tell him I want this dim bulb behind the counter fired."

Sam tried to cool Cole's temper. "Look, Cole, take it easy. That little snot was trying to get part of the tip from you that you would have given the bellhop. She might need this job to support herself and a kid, or something. Let's just hang loose and get that chair and crutches, then head back upstairs. Then maybe you can give Wendy a ride and snuggle a little bit."

A young woman in a power chair approached them. She had a scowl on her face. "Where do I deliver this power chair?"

"Right here," Cole told her. "Now unless you want me to sit in your lap, you'll get up and let me park my butt there."

"Oops!" she exclaimed and jumped up out of the chair.

"Where are the crutches?" Cole asked.

"Oh damn!" I forgot to bring them this time. I'll run back to the truck and get them for you."

When she returned with the two pairs of crutches, Cole gave her two one hundred dollar bills. "Oh! Thank you, thank you!" she exclaimed and hurried away. She was parked in a no parking zone and did not wish to split her tip with the traffic court.

"What about her?" Sam asked and pointed a thumb at the service clerk.

"Aw forget it." Cole steered toward the elevator. "She's not worth it."

"What are you going to do about the hotel's property you damaged?" The man in the blazer demanded.

"Not a damn thing," Sam answered. Then, as he turned to leave, he said, "Don't buy such crappy stuff, next time."

While they were headed up in the elevator, Cole asked, "How did you destroy that counter top like you did?"

That's part of an old Bruce Lee discipline called 'Iron Hand.' I learned it from one of Bruce Lee's older disciples. He showed Cole his reddened palm. "Damn, but that hurts. I'm soft." He grinned at Cole.

"I want to learn that stuff," Cole told him.

"Better see Mark first," Sam told him. "He's more into a karate discipline. What I practice is Jeet Kune Do. It's less formal." Cole nodded.

Wendy stood leaning in the open doorway to their suite. "Cole, what took you so long? I got scared when you were gone so long."

"Here you go, Sweetheart," Sam told her and handed over the new set of aluminum crutches.

"Thank you, Sam," Wendy told him and carried them over to a couch. She sat and began to adjust the length to match her body size.

Cole asked Mark, "Isn't there some sort of cart that would get for us? You know, something Wendy and me could use to have more travel ability? I don't know, maybe something like a golf cart that was street legal."

"Cole, there's an electric cart on the market that would be great for around the neighborhood. However, there's another problem I see."

"What's that?" Cole had decided they were safe now that the bad guys had been killed.

"I'm not too bright. In fact, I'm stupid as hell. We need security, good security. We three," he took a deep breath, then continued, "no make it four, with Wendy, are prime candidates for kidnapping." Mark frowned, looked down at the floor and shook his head in frustration. Josh White's security firm will provide us with manpower. Sam will oversee that part of our lives."

"Aw Mark," Cole complained, "Why do we need a bunch of sitters?"

"At a rough estimate, we are on the verge of becoming the latest billionaires to join that exclusive club. Thanks to my inheritance and our, mostly your, skills at hacking, we have more money than we'll ever need. And if I'm right, we'll be richer still in the next few months."

Wendy called over to them, "Guys, would you come over here to the couch so I can talk to you without yelling?"

"Sorry, Wendy, this does concern you and Cole was much as it does Rachel and me." Mark got up out of his chair and walked over to the couch. He sat next to Wendy and Rachel sat next to him.

"Hon, what do you mean about us about to become billionaires?" Rachel had a troubled look on her face as if she was afraid Mark was about to have a relapse.

"Rach," Mark began and was interrupted.

"Don't call me that. That so-called father of mine called me that to be humorous." She looked ready to do battle over something Mark considered insignificant.

He took a deep breath and started over, "Babe, Thanks to a grateful government, all money Cole and I ... and Wendy," he added after a short pause, "is all tax free. Part of the percentage system of government rewards as they apply to us."

"So?" She was still skeptical. "That's only a few million."

Rachel looked around wildly, "Oh my god, did I just say 'only a few million' as if it was pocket change?"

Mark nodded his head in sympathy to her feelings. "Yeah, the only way it would be real is if we saw it in a room filled with one dollar bills. It's so easy to become blasé about abstract numbers."

"So? You better explain what you mean, Mister." She hugged him and waited.

"Mom, what are Mark's Hunter holdings worth right now?" Cole had a big grin on his face.

Rachel frowned at the interruption, "I'm not too certain, the way things have kept changing lately. Perhaps thirty million in liquid assets."

"Uh uh, Mom. Try ten times that amount. There's a Hunter account in a Seychelles bank that the Jiggs bunch started. I moved it to a Swiss account."

"But," Rachel looked at her son as if he were an alien imposter.

Cole continued, "You and Mark have a ten million dollar balance in Euros in a Liechtenstein bank that happened when I moved the Panama drug money around. Our combined worth is about seven hundred million dollars, maybe a little more."