"A Dish Best Served Cold, Part 5" HOTEL OLYMPUS DINING ROOM, 7:30 PM Carmen entered the dining room, dressed in a crimson gown she had purchased a few years ago in Hong Kong. She was throughly enjoying herself. Zack and Ivy wouldn't be allowed to bother her. The staff were practacally falling over each other to serve her with whatever she needed and she felt relaxed for the first time in a good long while. The maitre'd showed her to a table next to a picture window that overlooked the lavish gardens of the hotel. The sun had set a few minutes ago and the moon was rising over the distant hills. Carmen gave a small smile at the breathtaking beauty of the moonlight creeping across the garden. It was a gorgeous evening. When she would look back on it later, she would consider it one of the worst nights of her life. Ivy slid the passcard into the slot of the door. There was a small click and she opened the door. It hadn't been easy sneaking back into the hotel. And even harder to find out where Carmen's room was and getting a passcard to get in. She really wished she could contact the Chief and get some help, but doing that was out of the question. They would never get another chance like this. Carmen actually seemed to be taking a vacation and she had both Zack and Ivy thrown out of the hotel, which meant her guard was down. But, just in case, Ivy wanted to make sure that Carmen wouldn't have any tricks up her sleeve to help her get away this time. Ivy went through the drawers of the dresser. Nothing but Carmen's casual stuff, plus a few things Ivy never thought Carmen would wear. A thong bikini, for instance. In GREEN. The closet held a few evening gowns, some towels, Carmen's trademark coat and hat and her luggage. Ivy went through thew pockes and lining of the coat. Nothing. No gadgets, no communication devices, no remote controls. Ivy smiled. she thought. The luggage held nothing of interest, except a framed photograph. It was a picture of Carmen back when she worked for Acme. She was dressed in the vest and pants combo she wore back then. She was sharing the photo with a young man in his late-twenties dressed in jeans and a denim jacket. He had a wry, sardonic expression. The photo was evidently taken on a visit to Disneyland. Carmen and the unnamed man were lined up, Rockettes-style, with Mickey Mouse and Goofy. All four of them in mid-kick. Ivy smiled in spite of herself. Posing for a silly picture like that was something she had never envisioned Carmen doing. She noticed a message scrawled on the lower right corner of the photo. --TO CARMEN. HAPPY 24TH! -- LOVE, MATT. Ivy thought. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a click and the sound of the door handle being turned. Ivy quickly put the photo and the suitcase back, closed the closet and dove under the bed. Carmen leaned back in her chair. The meal had been excellent. Normally she didn't eat red meat, but the prime rib had sounded too good to pass up. Now she arguing with the dilemma that has plagued most of the female of the species and a good chunk of the males since time began: Do I dare go for the cheesecake and spend another three hours in the gym working it off or not? "Excuse me?" Carmen looked up at the huge Norweigan man who was standing opposite her. "Yes," she said. "Can I help you?" The man smiled. "I was wondering why a young lady as attractive as yourself would be dining alone. That is a crime, in my opinion." "Oh, I think you'll find that I have a great interest in crime." Carmen replied. "Really?" the man said. "Strange, I have an interest in illegal activities myself. I am in blackmail, extortion and murder, myself. What do you do?" "I steal monuments from various countries around the world. " Carmen said, perfectly straightfaced. The man threw back his head and laughed. "Most amusing. Actually, I make watches. Svenson Morgensen, at your service, Miss--" "Doctor," Carmen corrected. "Dr. Candace Smythe. I'm a criminologist." She shook hands. "Would you care to sit down, Mr. Morgensen?" Ivy's limbs were rigid under the bed. From underneath it she saw two pairs of black trousered feet enter the room. One of the two men that entered was carrying a long ebony cane, as well as having an inturned foot. "What the bloody hell are you playing at, Enge?" came a voice with an Irish accent. Ivy's eyes widened. She fought to get ahold of herself. It wouldn't do to run to Carmen half cocked. She needed more information. "Mr. MacInnes," came another male voice. "I have a different assignment for you. For which I will pay you quite handsomely." "Yeah?" MacInnes replied. "Why me?" "Because the others are close up artists." Enge replied. "This particular service requires a sniper. Not only that, but you have the best chance of success of the three of you at killing Ms. Sandiego." "Skip the flattery and get down to it." "Very well. The other two are good at their jobs, but I seriously doubt that they will defeat her. And as much as I would like to kill her myself, I am not in the best physical condition to do so. Therefore, the one chance option is suspended in your case. I want her dead, and I don't care how many shots you expend to do it!" Ivy gasped, but managed to suppress it before anyone noticed. "What about Morgensen and Pao?" MacInnes asked. "They both were planning on making their moves tonight. Why me and not them?" "Their antics will act as a smokescreen for your own. After being assaulted by two close range killers like them, she will, in all likelihood, be so frazzled as to assume any further attackers will also be close range. Ms. Sandiego has a strong aversion to violence and killing, so it should unnerve her to prevent her from thinking clearly. Besides, I don't want you to attack tonight." "You don't? Then where the bloody hell am I supposed to shoot from? She could be leaving tomorrow for all I know." "Not true." Enge replied. Ivy held her breath as she saw the crippled pair of feet step towards the bed. Every muscle tensed, ready to run if she was discovered. It proved to be unnecessary, as Enge lifed the mattress then dropped it, sending a fair amount of dust raining down on Ivy. "Like all busy women of the nineties," Enge said, returning to MacInnes. "Ms. Sandiego keeps a Dayplanner. She did the same with her notebooks too. I'm surprised she still hides these kind of things under her mattress, you'd think she would have learned. Ah, here we are. Tomorrow she intends to go shopping in the marketplace. There, my friend, is your location." "What about my fee?" "Rest assured that the ten million will be yours." Suddenly, Ivy felt an overwhelming urge to sneeze. She grabbed her nose and held her breath trying to prevent it. After a moment, her eyes began to water. "Now then, shall we go?" Enge asked. Through the tears, Ivy saw the two pairs of feet leave the area of the bed. After a moment, she heard the door to the room open and shut. She crawled out from under the bed and sneezed. Carmen the target of three assassins? She had to be warned! She was completely unprotected! Ivy ignored the little voice in the back of her head that was pointing out the fact that not ten minutes ago she had been searching for a way to arrest Carmen. Ivy dashed out of the room towards the elevators, in search of the master thief. A few moments later, from another room down the hall, Donald MacInnes and Reginald V. Enge appeared in the doorway eyeing Ivy's retreating figure. "Do you think she bought it?" MacInnes asked. Enge looked at his watch. "Hook, line...and sinker." Enge replied smiling. To Be Continued...