Free The Athena Factor by W. Michael Gear

on approach. Looking through the window she could see Los Angeles baking under the morning sun. Brown haze was packed up over San Bernardino and Riverside.
    The sheer size of the sprawling megalopolis surprised her. She’d never seen it from the air before. The last time she had been in the city was as a little girl, when Mama had driven to Anaheim to see Aunt Maria. She remembered that trip as an eternity between potty breaks. She’d been hot, stuffed in the backseat with her unruly brothers. Aunt Maria had lived in a crowded apartment building. Christal and her brothers had been bored the entire time, fighting constantly and being yelled at. On top of it all, they hadn’t gone to Disneyland.
    She winced as the big jet touched down. A curious anticipation built as the plane taxied to its gate. She had that sense that her life was changing. Usually, when she felt this way, it was for a reason. She’d felt it the moment she submitted her application to law school, had felt it again when the FBI sent her a letter of acceptance, and felt it yet again the night she and Hank had made love in the surveillance van—though that had been one hell of a misinterpretation of presentiment.
    As the bell rang and the seat belt sign went off, she stood, retrieved her laptop and carry-on from the bin, then filed out
    She didn’t really expect anyone in the gate area, post-9/11 security being what it was, and LAX having been a constant target. To her surprise, she immediately saw the woman with the hand-lettered ANAYA sign.
    She walked up, set her carry-on down, and extended her hand. “I’m Christal Anaya.”
    â€œJune Rosen.” Her smile had a wry quality, her handshake firm. “Welcome to LA. Do you have any other bags?”
    â€œJust these. I travel light.”
    â€œThis way then.” She reached for the bag, but Christal snatched it up.
    â€œI can carry it.”

    As they walked, she glanced sidelong at the woman. “I would have expected Mr. Bridges.”
    â€œLymon, damn his hide, is in an advance meeting with Universal. They’re ironing out the details for Jagged Cat .”
    â€œExcuse me? Why ‘damn his hide,’ and what’s a jagged cat?”
    June gave her a crooked grin. “Second question first. Jagged Cat is the client’s new picture. They’re in preproduction right now. That’s costuming, building sets, and all the stuff that’s got to be done before filming. The studios have pretty good security, but Lymon has to make sure that our people interface with theirs so that we can pick her up and drop her off, have the right passes, and so forth. We need to know the shooting schedule and where, if anywhere, we’re going on location.”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œAre they shooting a scene in Portugal? If so, we have to be ready, advance the location, check the hotels, establish a relationship with local law enforcement, make reservations for our people, and book travel.”
    Christal thought about that. “Doesn’t the studio do all that?”
    â€œSure, but what if Sheela wants to go sightseeing between scenes? Does she have transportation? Do we need local security? Special permits? Are there areas she shouldn’t travel through? High-crime zones? What if she gets sick or is injured, maybe has an allergic reaction to something? That’s our responsibility.”
    â€œI didn’t know it was that complicated.” She wondered who Sheila was.
    â€œSometimes more so.”
    â€œAnd the ‘damn his hide’?”
    â€œI bet the bastard twenty bucks you wouldn’t show.”
    Christal smiled, deciding she liked June Rosen. “And what do you do for Lymon Bridges?”
    â€œIn official terms, I’m the secretary. In blunt actuality, I’m the business manager. I run the company.” She shot Christal a communicative glance. “Fortunately for him, he’s never asked me to sit on