48
The whirlwind descended as they drove back into the city. For something to do with her hands, for something to do in the silence that descended as dense as any sandstorm between her and Tim, Lola fished her cell phone out of the fanny pack she’d tossed on the car floor while helping to clean and stow the Huey.
A message flashed, now an hour old, calling them to the Treasury Building in less than an hour from now.
When she told him, Tim didn’t say a word but laid down on the accelerator and raced through the streets like a madman. She’d managed to make it up the stairs to the apartment for a quick shower and for them to pack their gear. She transferred the teapot handle to her duffel with Tim none the wiser.
Tim ducked into the kitchen to return the apartment keys. She had to sit and
