Chicago Red's mind raced in total darkness. "Tommy? Are you there?"

"If you say 'can you hear me' and start singing, that's it, I'll have to kill you," his voice finally answered. He was right behind her and she leapt up. "Here, I was getting my lighter out of my pocket."

"Look," she whispered, "I know where the breakers are. I just hooked some equipment up there earlier. Right near the stage; closer than the doors. Stay with the girls, okay?"

"Right on," he said pleasantly. "New Jersey, cover her."

"Yeah, where are you?" came New Jersey's voice from the other side of the table.

"Look, just stay there, I'll come get you on the way," Chicago Red replied, rolling her eyes. She finally got hold of him and lit the lighter. "Okay, this is useless. I can now see my hand."

"Look, the stage is right there," New Jersey said. "I can see the exit light over the door. So emergency generators are on, in any case." They bumped their way over to the backstage area, and Chicago Red cried out, "Ah-ha! A flashlight!" She lit it then, the light revealing a proud grin. "I knew I saw one back here somewhere earlier." She shone it along the wall until it illuminated the breaker box. They went over for a closer look. "Hmmm. Well, they're turned off, not blown." She switched the breakers on and the lights came back on, along with the background music. "I would call that pretty on purpose."

"Yeah, but why?" asked New Jersey. "To annoy us? Put us out?"

"So the Crime League is expanding into the world of everyday annoyances?" she sighed, switching off the flashlight and placing it back under the sound board. "I doubt it." They returned to the table, where Perfect Tommy was sitting with the girls, still under the table. He was apparently regaling Raven with tales of glory. "Umm, Perfect Tommy, the lights are back on."

"And?" he cued.

"Are you curious at all about why someone would do that and yet accomplish nothing with us sitting here, blind?" New Jersey asked.

"Diversion," shrugged Perfect Tommy. "Oldest Crime League trick in the book. They really should get some new material," he sighed, as they all stood up. "Probably makin' a mess of our room."

"Why? All I brought was clean underwear, a shirt and pajamas. Oh, and my toothbrush." New Jersey said.

"I know, I know, but they're the Crime League. Not the smartest or most subtle guys on the planet. Like we're gonna leave a detailed plan of the weekend in our room with our jammies." Perfect Tommy said to New Jersey. "Let's go call Buckaroo from the car. There's a scrambler on that phone."

Back at the Institute, Buckaroo was encouraged by Perfect Tommy's news and New Jersey's idea about checking fingerprints or DNA of recent Institute interns for any stolen identifications. While the Institute welcomed all their interns with open arms, they recently had taken steps such as this to avoid Hanoi Xan's attempts at sending in "false" interns. "Tommy, tell New Jersey to keep thinking. I'll get Mrs. Johnson on it. Everybody else all tucked in safe there?"

"Last time we checked, they were," Perfect Tommy assured him. "I'll be happy to do a bed check later, big guy, if you think duty requires."

"Nice try, Perfect Tommy," Buckaroo laughed. "Just ask Chicago Red to do a quick sweep of the rooms and lose any bugs they may have put in there while you were stuck in the dark. Obviously, everyone knows what everyone else is up to, more or less, but they still want to play games. So let's just keep the game going. The technical interns will roll in tomorrow around ten a.m., so tell Red to be ready. And Tommy?"

"Yeah?"

"Heads up, okay?"

"Don't sweat it, boss. We're at a weekend resort. What can happen, aside from a really bad comedian?" Perfect Tommy headed back inside with New Jersey, running into the band near the stairs. "What, is the party moving upstairs?"

"Well, I think we've had enough excitement for one night," Chicago Red told him, leaning heavily on her cane. "And whatever those guys shot me up with the other day still has me a little hungover, so this old lady's gonna catch some Zs."

"Good plan. Don't overextend yourself," New Jersey told her.

"How about the rest of you ladies? I'll treat you to some liquid refreshment in the cocktail lounge," offered Perfect Tommy.

"Uh, I guess so," Raven agreed, looking to Chicago Red. "Red?"

"Sure. Just stay together and don't do anything stupid," she yawned.

"Who, us?" Tina giggled.

"All of you." She saw them off, then turned to New Jersey. They climbed the stairs and Chicago Red threw open the door to her and the others' room. "Okay, so is this the part where we get jumped by the World Crime League as we unwittingly enter - Oh, now look at that!"

The room had indeed been cursorily but thoroughly searched; Chicago Red's electronic equipment had been found and was lying in disarray. "Now, what was the point of that?"

"Again, I can only suggest that the World Crime League is going into the annoyance business," New Jersey shrugged.

"How am I supposed to check for bugs with my equipment trashed?" she demanded of no one in particular, clearly upset.

"Well, one night can't hurt. You'll have things back to normal tomorrow. We just won't discuss any foiling of plots until everything's put back together."

She sighed heavily. "Well, at least the instruments are okay. God's Holy Trousers, they managed to make a mess here. It'll take at least two hours to put my kit back together." She saw him move into the room to help, and waved him away. "Oh, forget it. We'll do it in the morning. I can get the interns to help. Thanks, though." She opened the closet door. "Olly, olly, oxen free! Any big bad men hiding in there?" Nothing.

New Jersey flicked on the bathroom lights. Again, all was quiet. "Well, much like the Nazis in every Indiana Jones film, they came, they made a mess, they left."

She grinned. "Well, New Jersey, thanks for seeing me safely to my room. I'd invite you to a make-out session, but according to every horror film I've ever seen, that's when the guy with the chainsaw usually shows up, so we'd best just hit the hay."

For once, he didn't seem embarrassed by her jokes, and instead just played along. "You'd think the kids would have figured that out by now, but apparently not. Take it easy, Red."

"G'night, cowpoke."

* * *

Buckaroo showed up with the rest of the cavalry on Wednesday, after all the groundwork had been laid. Sihing Will and Billy Travers were with the group, apparently having discovered all they needed to from the codes in Flyboy's files. Mrs. Johnson, who never rode along on away trips, was on stand-by at the Institute with Professor Hikita to transmit any needed documents or information. BBI Rafterman was assisting BBI Pinky Carruthers with guarding the grounds, as well as helping Mrs. Johnson find necessary data in the archives. Rawhide stuck close to Buckaroo and Peggy, having been asked privately by Buckaroo to keep an eye out for her. Despite this, Peggy went directly to greet her old friend Chicago Red and catch up on the week's events.

"The codes are cracked, and it's not good news," Peggy told her in hushed tones. "Buckaroo had a teleconference with the President last night."

"Wow!" Chicago Red exclaimed, though whispered as much as she could manage. "Is he going to tell us at the meeting?"

"Yeah. You and the girls have a suite, right?"

"Yep. It's big enough and definitely clean of wire taps. I made sure of it. We can all meet in there," suggested Chicago Red.

Meet was exactly what they did exactly one hour later. It quickly got stuffy with so many people in the room, but Buckaroo kept the windows shut for security. "Okay, everyone. What we've got here is a situation in which we know a lot, but not quite enough to determine the degree of urgency. Sihing Will - who, I would like to announce has agreed to join Chaparral Team starting next month - " Buckaroo was interrupted by a good amount of cheers and applause, including a whistle from Chicago Red. "Sihing Will and Billy Travers have worked hard the past week on getting this all figured out for us, and it hasn't been easy. Sihing Will, what's the final story?"

Sihing Will, looking seriously overheated in his usual black garb, stood and said, "Well, the deal is we know what's going on, and Buckaroo has assured us that his meeting with the President has set his mind mostly at rest. But we all know that one mistake where the World Crime League is concerned could have fatal results. What Billy Travers and I found was that while Flyboy was with the CIA, they got him to set up security for certain seemingly random sites across the nation. Mrs. Johnson even remembers him thinking it was odd that the CIA should be concerned with such apparently meaningless sites, but again, it was a long time ago and he forgot most of that stuff once he joined up with Buckaroo.

"What Flyboy didn't know," Sihing Will continued, "was that these sites were not random, and they were not setting up security. In the electronic files of these plans Flyboy had drawn up, the CIA hid codes of secret bomb sites across the U.S. Bomb sites not even the military knows exist. Luckily, the President is aware of this and once we dropped a few of the magic words, he knew what was going on."

"What about the map coordinates?" New Jersey asked.

"You were right about them being map coordinates, New Jersey," Buckaroo nodded. "But we were wrong about what they meant. What it means, as it turns out, is that underneath all of these seemingly innocuous sites are highly secret government storage facilities for weapons waiting to be shipped out in case of a national emergency. The problem is, now that the World Crime League knows about them, these so-called storage facilities have become the national emergency." Buckaroo took off his glasses as he waved at the map of the United States behind him. "Each one of these flagged sites on the map behind me represents just such a storage facility. Over two thousand."

"Any clue what the Whisper's got in mind for these 'facilities'?" Rawhide asked.

"He wants to trigger a massive chain of explosions across the nation, throwing every state into a state of national emergency which the National Guard and other armed forces will never be able to handle on their own. Once the nation is thrown into such a state of panic and confusion, it's simply a matter of being prepared and taking over. Which Hanoi Xan and the World Crime League has been waiting to do," Buckaroo replied.

"Okay, so we know roughly what's going on," Reno nodded. "Do we know specifics beyond that?"

"No," Buckaroo told him. "We know that's the subject of Saturday's meeting, but we don't know how advanced their actual plan is. That's why we need to be ready to do whatever needs to be done on Saturday to keep this from happening. We have the Presidential go-ahead to do whatever we need."

"Strike team?" Perfect Tommy asked.

"Yes. Pecos, you and Tommy have four strike teams instead of two on the ready to move on Saturday. Place them at different locations outside the hotel. And Tommy, please keep them outside unless we need them. I don't need excessive destruction like last time."

"Sure thing, boss," Perfect Tommy assured him. "And by the way, that wasn't my fault. Stu was just a little twitchy that day."

"Yeah, well, just make sure Stu doesn't twitch his gun too hard again."

"Okay."

Buckaroo continued with an outline of the plan, turning the map over to reveal a floor plan of the hotel. The plan was to remain much as it was before, with only a few minor changes. Big Norse would be acting as hotel concierge, to give her a good view of what was happening centrally. The World Crime League's meeting was scheduled during the day, with entertainment scheduled for the evening. Chicago Red, Big Norse and New Jersey would monitor the recording while Buckaroo stood ready in their headquarters upstairs to direct mobilization, if necessary.

Assuming nothing would happen during the meeting to necessitate this, they would determine how to proceed after the meeting and before the evening's show. So far, the plan was that Team Sobriquet would act as cocktail waitresses while Zuzu's Petals played. Pecos would make sure the lights stayed low enough onstage so that Chicago Red could still see what was going on out on the floor. New Jersey and Sihing Will would be under the stage monitoring messages from Chicago Red, who would be wearing an earphone and a mic. The stage, as it turned out, was high enough off the ground to permit some walking, albeit crouched. Perfect Tommy and Reno would be backstage with Rawhide. Peggy and Buckaroo would be monitoring it all from just outside the room, probably in the lobby with Big Norse, in the office behind the desk.

"Okay, is everyone clear about what their role is?" Buckaroo asked. After clearing up a few questions, he told them Team Sobriquet was coming in on Friday morning, and Buckaroo wanted to do a run through then, before the World Crime League members arrived. "Shorty Burke's coming in early, on Friday, to make sure everything goes okay. I think Mr. Lucky's coming as well. So we need to be invisible. Red, how's the wiring going?"

"Almost done," she replied. "We've got to scramble a few things to make them less detectable, and hide a few things a little bit better. I want to set up a back-up mic in the conference room in case it gets muggy again. The condensation can mess up the transmitters. Still, we'll be done tomorrow afternoon. Any chance I can take an hour and join the girls at the pool today? They've been driving me nuts, lounging around while I work all day and then wondering why I'm so tired at rehearsal."

"You mean the band?" Buckaroo asked.

"None other." She looked out the window, now foggy from the still, heavy air, longingly at her friends by the pool. "The Irish here are dying in this heat."

Buckaroo grinned. "Absolutely. As a matter of fact, any of you who are on schedule and feel you can afford the time, feel free to take ten - or sixty - and have some down time. I'd like you alert and rested on Friday for run-through, not run-down and exhausted." He looked around the silent room of sluggish crime fighters. "That's it for now. Let me know if any of your teams run into problems."

Peggy tagged Chicago Red's shoulder as she was the first out the door. "See you at the pool."

"Hey, Peg?" Buckaroo called. "Watch it out there, okay? And save me a seat."

She nodded, knowing that he meant she should bring her gun out with her, just in case. She also knew if he'd had his way, she'd have stayed at the Institute with Mrs. Johnson. But it was his idea to put Chicago Red up onstage, with a target practically drawn on her, and as long as Peggy was around, she'd see that everything went smoothly. Besides, Buckaroo knew he couldn't watch her 24 hours a day, and it was best that he got used to her being in public more.

The water felt great to all that managed to have time to participate. One hour easily turned into two, as poolside service kept bringing them sodas and sandwiches. "Hey, Buckaroo," Chicago Red asked, toweling off her predictably red bathing suit as she and Peggy plopped down on a chaise lounge, "What's up with the potential leak at the Institute?"

"Mrs. Johnson is working on it still," Buckaroo replied. "She suspects it's someone in the lab, and she has BBI Rafterman checking the intern's credentials. I don't know which is worse. Having an unidentified leak, or finding out that the leak may be one of your own."

Perfect Tommy strolled up, in his perfect tan and sunglasses, with Reno and New Jersey. "Buckaroo, you always get all the girls."

"Only one," Peggy corrected. "The rest are camouflage."

Reno asked, "Anybody seen Pecos?"

"She's still working on the lights. She said she'd come out later," Chicago Red told him. "You guys swimming?"

"Try resting," New Jersey replied. "I haven't slept much all week. I'm basically convinced that Chet the bellboy will come in and try to kill us in our sleep. Working on that theory, I think I should be ready when that happens."

"Chet the bellboy has the body weight of a wet noodle," Chicago Red replied. "I bet night stealth killing is not in his job description, if it makes you feel better. He looks more like the weasely rat boy informer to me."

"I think that what New Jersey means is that none of us has slept due to the nightly slumber party happening in your room," Reno added. "Rawhide's the only one who brought earplugs. That's why he looks so well-rested."

"Yeah, that and the piano lessons he gives Big Norse," Perfect Tommy cracked.

Chicago Red and Peggy made practically identical and highly unexpected snort-laughs at this, which then triggered more laughter. "Oh, I'm sorry guys," Chicago Red finally managed, wiping a tear of laughter from her cheek. "I'll ask the Petals to keep it down, but what can I say? They're starting to get a little bored, cooped up her for a week. Good and rested bored, but they tend to let it out at night."

"Well, they won't be bored for much longer," Buckaroo told her. "Starting Friday, it's going to be busier than they probably want it to be."

After a few minutes, Sihing Will wandered over, still all in black. Catching their looks, he smiled, "No, I don't have the time to swim now. Maybe later tonight. I just wanted to ask Red, if the world's still here on Sunday, I could test you for your next level black belt."

"She's busy," replied New Jersey.

"But that's at night, right?" she asked.

He shrugged mysteriously. "You'll see. Actually, morning's okay, but from noon on, you're busy."

"Wow, a regular man of mystery. Okay, Will, what do you say to nine a.m. Sunday?"

"I say okay," Sihing Will replied, returning back inside the hotel to help Big Norse and Rawhide with setting up closed transmitters for the go-phones.

"I don't suppose you're going to give me a hint or anything?" Chicago Red asked New Jersey.

"Nope. Uh, just dress casual."

"Uh, what are we talking about?" Buckaroo asked.

"Prom night," Reno replied. "Come on, guys, let's log some water time."

The three had not been gone long when Buckaroo's phone rang. "Mrs. Johnson," he greeted, knowing only she had clearance for this phone. He made a few noises to show he was listening before finally saying, "Okay, have Pinky and Rafterman take care of it. Call Rawhide if you have any more security problems." He then told her that the meeting had gone well, and asked her to check back in a few hours. He hung up and stood as Rawhide came outside. "Hey, Rawhide, I'm glad you're here. Mrs. Johnson just called. We've got a handle on our leak. Lab tech named Seldon."

Rawhide shook his head. "And we had him testing her blood the other day," he said, gesturing towards Chicago Red. "Is it under control?"

"Yeah, but I told Mrs. Johnson to call you if there were any problems. How's it looking in there?"

"Not too shabby."

Buckaroo turned back to Peggy and Red. "Take another hour, you two. I've got to head back in."

"Ready for a walk through?" Rawhide asked.

"Lead the way."

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