Princess Of Wands by John Ringo

Author:John Ringo [Ringo, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction
Publisher: http://c3jemx2ube5v5zpg.onion
Published: 2006-01-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

You ready to go?” Barbara asked, banging on the bathroom door.

She hadn't shared a room with a female her own age in years and she had a hard time not coming on the Mom with Janea. When she'd examined the assignment, she'd managed to get down to two Pullmans and a carry-on. But Sharice had still needed a borrowed van from the center to get them to the airport. Janea had seven bags, which were now stacked around the room in the Holiday Inn Express in Dumfries.

She had gotten up early this morning, knowing that it was going to take some time for her to shower, shave her legs and armpits and do her hair and makeup. Janea, who “didn't do mornings” had woken up much later and had been in the bathroom ever since. Barb had gone out to breakfast and returned, bringing coffee and some rolls, and as far as she could tell, Janea had been in the bathroom the whole time.

“Ready!” Janea said, throwing open the door. “What do you think?” she asked, posing.

Barbara had dressed in a conservative suit she had previously only used during her brief stint selling real estate. Pinstripe jacket and skirt, skirt falling to just below the knee, cream button-down shirt, fairly comfortable pumps in anticipation of a fair amount of walking. If more walking was required, she had a bag with cross-trainers in it.

Janea's idea of “conservative” dress for a meeting at the FBI training facility in Quantico Virginia was: five-inch black spike heels, a black, pleated miniskirt, quite short while not being entirely scandalous, that gave the vague impression of being from a very naughty schoolgirl's wardrobe and a white shirt so sheer it was impossible to miss the underwire, push-up bra. Especially since she'd unbuttoned the shirt far enough to show an enormous amount of cleavage and a hint of lace. Her hair and makeup were, however, superb.

“We're going to be late unless we hurry,” Barb said, pushing up her sleeve to look at her watch.

“You don't like it,” Janea said, crestfallen. “Is the shirt unbuttoned too much?”

“It's lovely,” Barb replied, heading for the door of the room.

“I can change,” Janea said, following her. “I've got other outfits. Some of them might be a little skimpy for the FBI, but ...”

“It's not a problem,” Barbara said, “but I'm driving.”

“Oh, great,” Janea sighed, handing over the keys. She had driven them from Dulles to Dumfries in the rented Grand Am, the trunk and back of the car packed with luggage. She wasn't looking forward to having the “church lady” drive, probably slowly in the left hand lane, as they tried to find their destination.

Barbara didn't comment except to take the keys and get in the car. But the reason she was driving was that Janea couldn't keep her mind on the road. She was usually all over the lane, if for no other reason than checking her makeup, couldn't maintain speed and had a tendency to miss turns. They'd had to turn around three times to make it to the Holiday Inn, which was right off of U.

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