The Waiting Room
~ Chapter Seventy-Six
The Dove and The Lamb
DeMarco
paced the room like a caged animal. What were they doing in there?
Why did BonBon compromise herself with Sands and Noodlemantra?
At
one point he rested his ear against the door, listening to the
muffled sounds within. Their voices were low and he could not
decipher the low whispers.
As the Spanish lover moved away
from the door, the kitchen door swung wide and Lt. Victor stepped
out, in his hand a pilfered banana. From the kitchen, Sam protested
that Hannah’s bananas were not for snacking…that he needed them
all for his culinary dishes.
The lieutenant ignored the young
man’s pleas and continued on into The Room. He paused as he saw the
empty chair where BonBon had been sitting a few minutes ago. Curious
he surveyed The Room and did not find her.
He went to the
bedroom door and peeked in. Confused he turned back to face The Room.
DeMarco saw the prison warden in his search for their Cuban siren. He
watched as the Lieutenant’s eyes came to rest on the closed bathroom door
and strided over until he was by DeMarco’s side.
“Is
BonBon in the ladies room?” Victor asked. DeMarco nodded.
“But
I fear our little dove is not alone. I pleaded to her to allow me to
assist but was refused.” DeMarco held his breath as Victor glanced
about The Room taking a head count.
“Sands? She is with
Agent Sands?” the shock laced his voice.
DeMarco again nodded.
“And Noodlemantra. He arrived while you were in the
kitchen. It appears our flower has something he is requiring to
be returned to the outside world. What, I do not know. As you can see I
was not privy to the exchange.” He waved a hand at the door.
Victor positioned himself in front of the closed door. His
face began to turn red with the anger that was inside and his hand
drew the pistol at his side. Instantly the Room came alive with
activity as Brasco, Lerner, and Hanson drew their own weapons as they
rushed to Victor with orders to drop his weapon.
Surrounded
by American patriots Victor weighed his situation. Before he could
put away his own weapon the door opened to reveal BonBon. She let her
eyes fall to the Lieutenant, then glanced around at the three men, their
weapons drawn and leveled at Victor. She then saw the fourth, unarmed
man. BonBon smiled and held her hand out to DeMarco.
“See,
my sweet, I am safe. No harm done.”
DeMarco took her hand
and led her safely past the arsenal, back to her seat.
Noodlemantra
froze at the sight of all the guns. Sands bumped into him when he
stopped.
“What’s the hold-up? Move the f--k out of the
way,” the agent demanded.
“I…I can’t. They’ve drawn
guns on us.”
Sands' own weapon left his holster before
Noodlemantra could say another word, grabbing the man back and
slamming the door with his foot.
“Somebody better tell me
what the f--k is going on out there before I start blasting through
the door!” Sands screamed. “How many? How many guns?” The men
outside could hear Sands asking Noodlemantra.
“Four…four,
I think.”
“Sands? Sands? Can you hear me?” It was
Brasco. “For-get-about-it. We got it under control out here.”
“Four guns, Brasco? I don’t think so. I’m freaking out
in here. I freaking right out.”
Victor, seeing that the
situation was escalating and that BonBon was now safe, returned his
gun to his hip holster, holding up his hands in silent surrender.
“It’s oka, Sands. I swear,” Brasco assured him. “All
the weapons are being put down.” Brasco nodded to the other men,
who backed down as they holstered their guns. Brasco put away his own
gun and knocked on the door.
“It’s secure to come out,
Sands. The situation has been defused. It’s all under control.”
The door opened, just enough for Sands to shove Noodlemantra
out into The Room. ON stumbled over Brasco’s foot, dropping the
baggie, but caught himself before falling completely. He straightened
himself and pulled down at his jacket, then bent down and picked up
the bag. Inside was a sheet of paper. He quickly shoved it into his
pocket.
“How ya doing?” Brasco asked ON in his thick
accent.
“Been better, I must say.” ON replied, then
hurried to his cart. He realized that Sands had pushed him out of the
bathroom to see if he would be shot. He had been Sands' sacrificial
lamb.
When there were no shots fired, Sands then opened the
door the remainder of the way, his gun still poised.
“Put
your weapon away, Agent Sands. It’s just me here now. It’s Brasco.
The Room is secure.”
Sands finally accepted Brasco’s word
and holstered his weapon. Brasco watched as the agent snapped off the
latex gloves and tossed them to the floor, replacing them with his
black leather ones.
Immediately Brasco put two and two
together. Latex gloves, BonBon, a bagged letter.
“Oh,
Jesus,” he whispered as Sands brushed past him. Sands stopped
before moving on and smiled at the New York cop’s disgust.
“Hey,
she’s the best hiding place there is…don’t knock it till you
tried it.”
Then the CIA agent continued on to his table,
yelling to Sam in the kitchen he was ready for lunch.