By the time Clara found them, Mike and Kanesha had showed up. And they had what I’d requested.

“Do you need one?”
“I might as well.” Bullets didn’t hurt me that much, but they did hurt me some. I shrugged into the vest, which felt a little odd to start with then seemed to settle into a comfortable position.

Kanesha frowned. “They itch.”

“Bullets itch more,” I quipped. “Clara’s got a location. If we go in on this we’re going to get shot at. Get your jacket on over it.”

Mike nodded. “If they think we’re wearing armor they’ll get out the copkillers. Hopefully they won’t anyway, but it was still a good thought.”

I grinned at him as I pulled on my jacket. “Oh, come on. Don’t try to con me into thinking you didn’t have exactly the same idea I did.”

He wasn’t about to admit it, which meant he want to make me feel good about myself. Which tempted me to scowl instead of grinning, but I didn’t. “Do we have enough transport?”

“Where are they?”

“Somewhere in Silver Spring.”

“We’re going to need another car then.” He turned and tugged out his phone. “I’ll tell Thruor.”

Thruor driving a car struck me as strange, but I didn’t argue with it. Cars could be bulletproof. Bikes couldn’t.

Of course, did anyone but James Bond really have a bulletproof car? “How do they actually make tires bulletproof on bulletproof cars?” I asked Mike, to distract myself.

“They don’t.”

“So…”

“They use run flat tires that don’t care if they get shot. They aren’t the standard ones, but they can go for 60 miles at 60 em pee aitch.” He grinned at me.

“James Bond cars.”

He grinned more. “You can get smokescreens. Not the guns under the badge, though.”

“Didn’t he forget to load that in the last movie?” I found myself relaxing from the banter. “Is Thruor really bringing a car?”

“She’s bringing a car and driver.”

Which showed up – the driver was a valkyrie who’s name I wasn’t sure of, a redhead. It was actually a black SUV. I didn’t ask if it was bulletproof, but followed Mike to his car instead.

“Okay,” he said before we got in. “These people are professional mercenaries. They’re doing this for pay. They will try to avoid collateral damage.”

I nodded. “Meaning we might be able to avoid fighting them.”

“Depends on how afraid they are of their employer. And possibly on whether their employer already has what he or she wants.”

Given my suspicions about their employer’s nature, I fell silent at that.