Saints Astray

Page 49

“Maybe,” Loup said.
“And yet you hail from Canada.” He smiled wryly. “At least that’s the story Mr. Lindberg told me. Somehow I don’t think that’s the story the lads are covering up for you. And now there’s this business about the States?”
She shrugged.
“Look, sweetheart.” Geordie leaned forward. “If I’m guessing right, you need me. Mr. Lindberg was very clear that you had an exclusive contract with Global. I don’t know why one or both of you has to go to the States or why the lads are hell-bent on going with you if you do, but if Kate doesn’t keep you on retainer—”
“Geordie, man.” Randall took off the sunglasses that had been obscuring his eyes throughout dinner. “You’re fired.”
“What?” He blinked.
“Yeah?” Randall glanced around at the other two. They nodded. “Fired.”
“You’re joking.”
“No, man.” He shook his head. “This is not cool. Not cool at all.”
“You signed a contract, too, boyo—”
“Yeah.” Randall gave his lazy smile. “One with an opt-out clause that kicked in, oh, about two weeks ago. You’ve really got to read that shit more closely. Look, man. We’ve done everything you said and you were right, everyone got rich. Now we’re gonna do what we want to do, and you’re either with us or against us.” He glanced at Pilar. “You’re good at arranging stuff. Think you could manage a band?”
“Sure,” she said with false conviction. “How hard can it be?”
Geordie snorted. “You have got to be joking!”
“We’re not,” Donny said.
The manager looked at Charlie.
“Don’t look at me.” Charlie thrust his fist in the air. “Fight the power! Viva Las Vegas!”
“So that’s the deal,” Randall said. “Do you want the job or not, man?”
He gave Pilar a sour look. “I sure as hell don’t want you to turn your career over to some inexperienced tart to screw up.”
“Hey!” she said, indignant. “What have I ever screwed up?”
“My life, apparently.” Geordie stared at the ceiling. “All right, all right. I want to hear the whole story, the true story.” He raised his hand. “I won’t tell a soul or interfere, I promise. My hand to God, swear on my mum’s grave. But I want to know what load of codswallop these girls have been selling you before I make any decisions.”
“That’s fair,” Randall agreed. “You cool with it?”
“You trust him?” Loup asked.
He nodded. “To keep his word? Yeah.”
So they told him. By the time they got to the part about escaping through the smugglers’ tunnel, Geordie’s mouth was hanging open.
“Are you having me on?” he demanded.
“No,” Pilar said. “Don’t you ever watch the news? That’s why we have to go back, or at least I do. The congressional hearings. You can call Senator Ballantine if you don’t believe us. We have his private number.”
“Have you sold the rights?” Geordie gestured impatiently at their blank looks. “To your life story! You haven’t sold the rights, have you? Book? Film?”
“No,” Loup said. “Nothing like that.”
He leaned back in his chair. “You’re a fucking gold mine, you are.”
“Told you,” Randall said mildly. “So you want the job?”
The manager gave him a sharp look. “The timing’s tight, but I know a few people. What would Kate say to playing a free concert on the Mall in Washington D.C. to call attention to the hearings? Raise awareness for GMO rights and freedom for all Americans?”
He grinned. “I’d say you’re hired.”
THIRTY-SIX
At the band’s insistence, once they returned to England, Loup and Pilar accompanied them to a rented estate in Surrey that had been owned by a famous musician of years gone by and had a professional recording studio.
There, they waited for news.
Geordie Davies made an offer to keep them on retainer for the next six months.
Magnus Lindberg and Sabine flew in to negotiate.
They started by taking Loup and Pilar out to dinner at an expensive restaurant with a private dining room. Before drinks had even been served, Magnus nodded to Sabine, who opened her briefcase and placed a copy of Rolling Stone Australia on the table.
“Kate’s Crusaders,” Magnus observed. “Seems you’ve made a connection with the client. Very good article. Very political.”
“Thanks,” Loup said.
“Sabine here has been following the news out of America. Something about hearings? A missing witness, rumors of a new mystery witness?”
Pilar winced. “Yeah, about that—”
“And this absurd business about a concert,” Magnus continued. “You do realize, Ms. Mendez, that such an appearance on American soil would put Loup in considerable jeopardy? A prospect you seemed so anxious to avoid?”
“She knows,” Loup said softly.
Pilar nodded. “It’s complicated.”
“I see.” He steepled his fingers. “Too complicated for my tastes, I fear. Too… indiscreet. I’d be well advised to insist that Mr. Davies buy out your contract, wouldn’t I? Wash my hands of the two of you?”
“Probably,” she agreed. “You’ve been fair with us. You ought to get your money’s worth. If everything works out, we’d be happy to work for you again. But if it doesn’t…” She shrugged. “I’m sorry. At least Kate will probably make up their money in merchandising.”
Magnus regarded her. “Or I could put an end to this with a single phone call. You risk exposing some of Global Security’s more dubious machinations.”
“The passport thing? I won’t.”
“She won’t,” Pilar agreed. “Me neither. If it comes up, we’ll say we got ’em in Mexico from some guy who sells stolen and forged passports. There are guys like that out there, right?”
“There are.”
“And you could probably get your Canadian connections to back us up, right?”
“It’s possible.”
“So will you let us go?” Loup asked. “Please?”
He glanced at Sabine, who returned his gaze impassively. After a long, long moment, he let out his breath in a sigh. “Yes, fine. I’ll allow it.” Magnus touched his steepled fingers to his lips. “Let us say that I am not entirely a cynic. I’ve witnessed many very unpleasant things in my lifetime. I’ve profited from the paranoia and greed of others. But I never completely abandoned hope, and I cannot help but admire the heroic impulse, no matter how absurd it may be.”
“Loup,” Pilar said softly.
“Loup?” His gaze slewed round at her. “No, my dear. Loup is Loup. She is exactly what I hired her to be. You are what surprised me.”
“Me?”
“You.”
Pilar flushed. “Thank you.” She shot a suspicious look at Sabine. “Aren’t you going to snort or roll your eyes or mutter something?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
Her lips twitched. “Yes, you little twit!”
The following day they met with Geordie and the band and hammered out an agreement that was acceptable to all parties. Kate the band bought out the remainder of Loup and Pilar’s contract for half a million euros. Geordie grimaced as he poised his pen over the contract.
“You know there’s still a chance we could be pissing this money away?” he warned the band one last time. “This could get ugly.”
Randall glanced at Pilar. “How many of the Loup T-shirts sold?”
“A little over twenty-three thousand.”
“If it gets ugly, we’ll sell a million,” he predicted. “Two million, maybe. Sign away, man.”
He signed. “Done.”
Charlie cheered and popped open a bottle of champagne. They passed it around for everyone to have a swig.
“Ah, no. Thank you.” Magnus declined the bottle politely, looking amused. Sabine merely looked horrified. “The deportment and etiquette lessons turned out to be rather a waste, eh?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Pilar offered. “I have a feeling they’re gonna come in handy in these hearings. Don’t you think, baby?”
“Yeah. Um, yes. I do.”
Magnus consulted his watch. “We should be off.”
They accompanied them to the car. Sabine opened the door for her employer, then favored Loup and Pilar with a curt nod.
“Godspeed,” she said briefly. “I hope you succeed.”
“As do I.” Magnus shook both their hands, then kissed them on both cheeks, European-style. “Take care.”
“Hey, Magnus! C’mere.” Pilar put one hand on the back of his neck, tugging his head down, and whispered something inaudible in his ear. He pulled back and gave her an incredulous look. She nodded encouragement. “I’m serious. Try it and see.”
Something in his face softened. “I just might at that.”
“Good.” She smiled happily, ignoring the return of Sabine’s scowl.
Loup watched the car pull away. “Pilar Ecchevarria, what in the world did you say to him?”
She looked smug. “I told him to open his eyes and ask Sabine out on a damn date.”
“Seriously?” Loup laughed.
“Yep. Did you see his face? He didn’t have the first clue.”
“No, he did not.” She took Pilar’s arm affectionately. “I have a feeling Magnus knew a lot of things he wasn’t telling us, but that was not one of them. C’mon, Cupid. Let’s go see what our new bosses want.”
Not much, as it transpired. For the better part of a week, the band rehearsed and recorded in the studio, honing and refining the new material. There was no news on the Miguel Garza front. Geordie Davies worked frantically to coordinate arrangements for Kate’s concert on the mall, scheduled to take place the day before the hearings began. He assigned Pilar the task of sending a press release and the link to the Rolling Stone Australia cover story to every media contact he had in the United States.