Hot Potato: A Screwball Romantic Comedy Novella

Chapter 4

            Susan had stuck her gun in her pants waistband where it was easily at hand and could be as easily seen by Walter – just in case he required a reminder of his need to cooperate.  At the moment he sat on the ground next to the dolly holding the weapon.

            She removed binoculars from her purse and studied the surrounding countryside.

            “You looking to steal a car?” Walter said.

            “I’m organizing transportation.”

            “Organizing is good.  Why not go back to your hotel room, get your gear, and order a car?”

            “And leave you alone with the nuclear weapon?”

            Walter shook his head.  “I still don’t understand why you didn’t let me wheel the dolly right back to those guys?”

            Susan stared at him.  “How dumb are you?  The Cold War may be officially over, but Russian security teams are still Russians.  I already told you they were just as likely to shoot us as to say thank you for returning the weapon.” 

            She slung the binoculars around her neck and waited for him to say something else equally stupid.

            He said, “What are you doing in Europe?”

            “I told you, business.”

            He nodded at the high-powered binoculars, the gun in her waistband.  “You’re an arm salesman, er, saleswoman, aren’t you?”

            “The correct term is field sales support engineer.”

            He flashed a smile that he probably thought of as charming.  “I’ll remember that the next time.”

            “Do you have a name?” she said.

            “Walter.  Walter Stearns.  And you are?”

            “Susan Thornton.”

            “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said.

            “Drop dead.”

            “Sorry I can’t oblige you.  But what about that man coming towards us on an old motorcycle with a sidecar attached?”

            Susan turned towards the motorcycle.  A moment later she had waved the man to stop and was negotiating with him.

            Five minutes later the man took off on foot and she motioned Walter into the sidecar, placing his little bag at his feet.  Then she removed the weapon from the crate and placed the weapon in his lap, leaving the dolly and the crate by the side of the road.

            When he opened his mouth to protest, she recommended he not talk.  “You don’t want anything to set off the bomb.”    

            Back at the hotel, Susan stopped the motorcycle underneath a window at the rear of the building.  She reached down into her purse and extracted a pair of handcuffs.

            Before Walter could make a sound she snapped one cuff around his right hand and the other cuff around the steering wheel of the motorcycle. 

            “Don’t make any noise,” she said.  “If you’re discovered, you’ll have a hard time explaining yourself and the bomb.”