Free Collateral Damage by Fern Michaels Page B

good side, boys. I wish I could comment, but I have no idea why I’m here. All I know is there’s someone in there,” Jack said, pointing to the building, “who is in charge of yet another task force to bring down the vigilantes. Her name is Erin Powell. You spell that with two L’s, I think. P-o-w-e-l-l.”
    The crowd literally seemed to swell. Agents appeared with drawn guns. Jack managed to look stunned and horrified at the same time. Lights brighter than stadium floods sprang up everywhere. Microphones were being thrust into his face. He tried to back away, the lights all around him nearly blinding him.
    A slender woman appeared out of nowhere. Even with all the lights glaring in his face, Jack could make out the look of panic on the woman’s face. It had to be Akers’s temporary boss, Special Agent Powell with two L’s. A squadron of other agents behind her, she shouted for the crowd to disperse. No one moved. The media was on it like white on rice, and they smelled news.
    “Back off, you are on government property!” Powell shouted.
    Cameras clicked, and more microphones appeared. She angrily batted them out of the way.
    “Arrest anyone who doesn’t move!” Powell screamed to be heard over the uproar.
    Jack leaned over to the nearest reporter, and said, “You didn’t get this from me, but Powell used to know a couple of the vigilantes. Like in best friends. Nikki Quinn and Myra Rutledge. And she’s in charge of this task force. What’s wrong with this picture?”
    “You shitting me, Emery?”
    “Gospel, buddy. I swear on my mother.”
    Jack moved slightly to get away from the reporter as he watched what was going on around him. He spotted Harry Wong. He reached out a long arm and yanked the reporter closer. He hissed again. “See that guy over there, the skinny one with the yellow Windbreaker? Talk to him. He’s a wealth of information. I think he has a video you might want to see.” The young reporter looked at Jack suspiciously but moved off to do his bidding. He managed a wink in Harry’s direction. Harry nodded.
    It took twenty minutes before the agents had the doorway clear except for thirteen women.
    Erin Powell looked at her agents and demanded they move the women, who looked like they were rooted to the concrete, away from the doorway. A tight huddle formed as the male and female agents snapped and snarled at one another. Jack watched as Erin Powell exploded in a verbal tirade. “I don’t care who they are, move them out of here.”
    A tall, beautiful woman stepped forward. More than once Jack had heard her referred to as the sexiest woman alive. Jack almost blacked out when she approached Erin Powell and slapped a wad of paper into the agent’s hand. “Lizzie Fox, representing Jack Emery. These ladies behind me are my cocounsel, all twelve of them!”
    Lizzie turned to the media and announced in a loud, crystal-clear voice, “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m Lizzie Fox, Mr. Emery’s attorney. Call me for any and all interviews, and I or my staff will cooperate. Fully.” She looked directly into the camera and offered up a sizzling wink. The cameraman filming her looked like his pants were on fire. It was all Jack could do not to laugh out loud.
     
    The late news started off with a film clip of that sizzling wink as the anchor announced, “The Silver Fox is back in town, and woe to those who are hiding out in the Hoover Building.”

Chapter 8

    T he women were getting ready for bed when three sharp bonging sounds from the bell in the compound reverberated over the mountain. They stopped what they were doing, looked at one another, their expressions a mixture of excitement and dread. Three bongs of the bell meant drop what you’re doing and report in. Robes flapping in the evening breeze, slippers slapping at the ground, the women ran toward the Big House, each wondering what crisis warranted the call.
    Charles greeted the women at the door, Myra standing behind him. Both wore robes