Page 27 of Iron Unicorn

“And as we are in Houston, and we will remain in Houston until our departure for the scenario ride, there is no way we could have had anything to do with moving that herd to the palace. I’m game, Eddie.”

“I could do it now,” the young RPS agent murmured, his eyes narrowing at the photograph. “That might keep Dad busy—and get him back to Dallas in a hurry. My co-workers might even like me for getting him to do what they want.”

“He wants to participate in the scenario, doesn’t he?” I sighed at the thought of the Texan monarchs causing even more chaos in my life. And if they joined in, my queen might want to delay going home to help them maximize the amount of mayhem they brought into the world. “Olivia, poke your head outside of the room and see if you can summon an agent. This is a problem we must solve if we want a restful ride.”

“Nothing about this ride is going to be restful for you, Terry,” Eddie informed me in a solemn tone. “They are planning on running you through the grinder so you return to New York somewhat close to healthy. We have hidden the fact you have lost at least ten pounds from your queen. Your king is aware you were sicker than we want your queen to know, and he’s trusting us to handle your health until you’re back in New York. He likes the work Alfred is doing with the New York RPS, so having you here a little while longer works well for everyone.”

I foresaw disaster around every corner. Having Alfred work on the New York RPS revamp would help a lot down the road. While I’d made good progress, he’d accomplish many of my goals due to his age, the respect he held from Montana, and his willingness to be a complete and total asshole when it suited him. “Well, if I don’t survive, you will have to deal with Olivia. Good luck, Eddie.”

With a bark of laughter, Olivia stopped near the door, turned, and said, “Terry!”

“What? It’s true. If I get offed because of their physical therapy program, they’ll have to deal with you, my assigned Montana Royal. The Texans are going to need all the luck they can get.”

Shaking her head and giggling, Olivia unlocked the door, leaned out into the hall, and whistled, much like she would when calling in a horse. “Hey, you. Yeah, you in the RPS suit. Come here and help me scheme.”

Well, that would rile up the Texan RPS, although I appreciated the princess’s playful mood. “I believe she’s tired of being in the hotel, Eddie.”

“I do believe you are right. In good news, freedom swiftly approaches. Don’t relapse. I don’t think any of us can handle a relapse at this point in time. At least you only needed to go to the hospital for checkups and short observation.” Eddie cast a look in Olivia’s direction. “She was so focused on you she was able to cope better with her operation. I was told to inform you we have a clicker for you to use as part of her therapy while on the ride. The psychologist thought it was a good idea. Even when sick, you were able to rein her in just from snapping your fingers or clucking your tongue disapprovingly.”

I chuckled, grateful I could without breaking into painful coughing fits. “I’m glad I was able to help. I can’t say I remember that, though.”

“To keep the princess happy, the doctors opted to heavily drug you. The drugs that helped minimize the coughing sent you for a loop. For the most part, you felt no pain. Honestly, I’ve found this whole thing to be rather amusing. I know we can get touchy when our principals get into a mess, but you’re an experienced agent. While pneumonia isn’t something to take lightly, you were never in any real danger. You needed monitoring and antibiotics, which Princess Olivia?—”

“Ew, just Olivia,” the princess said, waiting until her chosen victim came into our room to close the door. “I have captured Quincy. The other agents appear to be afraid of my scheming.”

“How are you doing, Terry?” Quincy asked, and to my amusement, he shucked off his suit jacket and tossed it out of the way. “We’ve learned to be casual in here else Olivia will give us an earful. What are we scheming?”

Eddie held up his phone. “I need to deliver my herd of miniature horses to Dad. They need bows, and they need to be set loose in the palace. We are going to use that as a distraction to make sure they go back to the palace for a while and stay there. I was going to use the horses if I managed to actually get sent to California, but this should work well enough as a distraction method.”

Quincy took Eddie’s phone, stared at the picture, snickered, and gave the device back. A moment later, he lifted his hand to his ear. “Keep this quiet. Eddie has a herd of miniature horses that need to be transported and set loose in the palace. This should keep Their Majesties home where they belong, as they will have to find housing for their new animals. I’ll make a channel and send the appropriate information. This solves the problem of making sure His Majesty does not hover. Warn the palace stables, and make sure everyone knows to be difficult with His Majesty. Should Her Majesty become stressed, tip her off, but I think this will prove to be rather energizing for both of them.” After listening, Quincy lowered his hand. “Good thinking, Eddie. We were running out of ideas. Their Majesties want to go on the ride, and more than a few of our exercises simply aren’t appropriate for either of them. We aren’t dumb enough to point out they’re getting older, but your dad’s back problems are becoming a real problem.”

“Yeah, I know.” With a wrinkle of his nose, Eddie added, “Dad knows it, but he hates admitting it. How could hepossiblybe a good ruler of Texas if he can’t sit a bucking bronco like he once used to?”

“He’ll get over it, but I’ll make sure his therapist knows to hammer at the point that he’s not a good king because of his riding abilities,” Quincy promised. “Was there anything else you needed, Olivia?”

“A confirmation we are being freed from the hotel prison tomorrow morning.”

Quincy checked his watch. “I’ll see if we can move the timetable up and get you two on the move sooner than later. Have you gotten a preference out of him for the horse?”

“Crap. I got distracted with the minis,” Eddie confessed. A moment later, he offered me his phone. “You must pick based off these baby pictures.”

Taking the phone, I began looking through the photos, determining someone with a camera and a love of foals had spent an unholy amount of time in the foal barn getting the best pictures of the babies possible. Unfortunately for me, many horses changed colors as they grew up, which meant I would be deciding on guesses and the irrefutable cuteness of the baby animals.

One of the photos caught my attention. Unlike the other foals, which had been captured bouncing around and embracing silliness, the animal had tried to hide in a corner away from the photographer. A mix of the shadowy corner and the angle made it hard to tell what color the animal was, although I thought its coat was pale. I’d never cared much about color, and I doubted that would change. “I’ll take this one.”

Eddie checked the picture, and he burst into laughter. “Oh, you’re going to have fun with her.” A moment later, he showed Olivia the filly. “Terry seems to be a sucker.”

“Who wouldn’t be? She’s adorable.”

After tapping at the screen, he said, “I texted you the picture and her name, Quincy.”

“And that’s my cue to make certain she’s transported for the adventure tomorrow. Pick three colors, Terry. We’ll have some horses as backups in case your main needs a breather.”

“Let’s go with buckskin, cremello or something similar to that, or a ginger if you don’t have backups already picked.”

Olivia twitched, and I grinned at having tweaked the woman’s nose through the incorrect naming of a horse coloration.

“Got it. Olivia, make sure your RPS agent stays hydrated, takes a shower, and doesn’t fret because he’s not packing for the trip. We’re taking care of everything, Terry. When we aren’t running scenarios, you’re supposed to have fun. I’ve heard this is difficult for you, but I’m sure we can show you some techniques that might help with that problem.”

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