“There’s a good lad,” said Ben wryly, and he patted him on the head before moving to the other three children.
“The public doesn’t like to see children led out in handcuffs either, I suppose,” Emily whispered grimly to Oliver. This whole situation felt wrong. A cover-up had to happen—enough lies had already been told about kidnapping rings and the precious North children not to continue along that path—but this seemed too calculated.
Oliver had a perturbed expression on his face. “Something’s not right.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
His frown deepened, his eyes fixed on the four Wests. “Something’s not right. This was too easy.”
Emily bit back a scoff. “You’re joking, right?”
“Where’s Revere?” he suddenly asked Hawk. “Your bird, where is he?”
Hawk’s gaze jerked away from the ceiling. “He got shot, remember?”
“But he was only injured. So where is he now?”
“Everyone in a line,” Birchard interrupted, and he prodded Hawk toward the door. “Escorts, keep a protective arm around your poor little victims as you lead them to the van. That means you two as well,” he added to Alyson and Emily.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Emily murmured as she complied. It was all so contrived.
“You’re going to be sick?” Oliver retorted.
She squeezed his shoulders in a mock-comforting gesture.
“All ready out there?” Ben said into his phone. A voice responded to the affirmative. “Let’s go, everyone. Single-file, straight out to the van, but take your time so that we have some nice footage for the news reels.”
He really was enjoying himself, but it only made sense that an information junkie would delight in twisting that information around. She led Oliver from the house, conscious to keep her head down. The last thing she wanted was for her mother to recognize her face on the evening news. Veronica was broadcasting from the front porch, with General Stone standing next to her to comment on the case. Emily heard snippets of her report as she dutifully helped Oliver up into the van.
The back could only fit two agents more in addition to the children and the two legitimate handlers. A third moved toward the front seat, only to be cut off by Ben. “Sorry,” he said with a smile. “General’s orders. You’re with the sedan.”
The man nodded and immediately crossed to the black sedan ahead, where he joined the other extra escorts.
“Switch places with me,” Ben told one of the agents in the back. “I think these kids might like to watch the broadcast of their rescue.” He produced his handheld screen from one pocket and waved it enticingly.
The agent laughed and gladly complied.
Ben plopped down between Emily and Hawk. “It should be just about ready to air,” he said. “I can’t imagine that General Stone had a very long statement to give.” The screen in his hand flared to life.
“It’s not a live broadcast?” Emily asked.
“No way. We had to be sure none of these little miscreants made a scene on live television. It can start any time now, though, since you all behaved so well. Here we go.”
He flipped a switch on the side, and the sound blared through the van. “For breaking news in the Maddie and Alex North kidnapping case, we go live to Veronica Porcher in Phoenix. Veronica?”
Veronica’s beautiful face flashed into view, with the safe house as her backdrop. She smiled into the camera. “Thanks, Ted. I’m standing here in a quiet neighborhood where, just moments ago and acting on a tip from a concerned citizen, the Government-Civilian Alliance entered a suspected kidnapper’s den. Inside, a bone-chilling scene: not two, not four, but six children, ranging in age from six to thirteen years old. You can see behind me those children being escorted to safety, even at this very moment rescued from what had to be the most horrific ordeal of their young lives.
“I have with me General Bradford Stone, who led this rescue effort. General Stone, can you confirm that two of those children are Maddie and Alex North of Seattle, Washington?”
General Stone looked as grim as ever. “I can confirm that.”
“And the other four? Who are they?”
“At this time we’re not releasing their names. We need to get into contact with their parents or guardians, but I can say with complete certainty that they have been saved from a most unsettling situation.”
“And what of the kidnappers?” Veronica asked.
“Unfortunately,” said General Stone with a self-conscious glance toward the camera, “the kidnappers escaped out the back door moments before we entered the house. We have men tracking them, and we urge citizens to be vigilant about their surroundings and any strangers they might encounter. We will do everything in our power to bring these vile criminals to justice.”
The van had begun to move away down the street, following the black sedan in front of it. Emily barely noticed, her attention fixed on the tiny screen. Every so often, she glanced up at the other riders to discover that they were just as mesmerized.
“Do you have any words of thanks you’d like to say to those whose time has been so focused on this rescue effort?” Veronica asked the general.
“Of course. We owe an enormous debt to the Government-Civilian Alliance and its continued endeavors to bring justice to those who need it most. I’d also like to thank the many civilians who called in tips that led to this rescue tonight, as would the parents of these children, I’m sure. And, of course, a big thank you to NPNN for keeping this kidnapping fresh in our minds, for reminding us never to give up the fight. Maddie and Alex North thank you very much, I’m sure.”
“Like fun we do,” said Honey sourly. Hummer immediately shushed her.
“And there you have it, Ted,” said Veronica to the NPNN anchor. “A month-long nightmare brought to a happy end. From Phoenix, I’m Veronica Porcher.”
Ted’s face flashed back on screen. “Thanks, Veronica. We’re waiting for a statement from the North parents, but first—”
Ben flipped the screen off. “And that’s that,” he said cheerfully as he tucked it away in his pocket. “The manhunt is over.”
Then he took out a gun and shot the agent sitting across from him.
XXV
Turnabout Is Fair Play
Alyson shrieked, and the van erupted into chaos. Hummer and Hawk West both lunged for the fallen agent’s tranquilizer gun. The agent in the front passenger’s seat started from his chair, only to slump down the next moment, a tranquilizer dart in his neck. The shot hadn’t come from either of the West boys, but from the driver.
“What are you doing?” Emily screamed at Ben.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he asked as he turned his gun on her.
“That’s a tranquilizer gun,” said Oliver from behind her, his voice trembling. “It only fires one round.”
“True,” said Ben, and he carelessly cast it away. “This one’s a bit different, though.” He pulled a heavy weapon from beneath his jacket, a bona fide pistol, the kind that had been outlawed decades ago. “Good thing I didn’t grab it first by mistake. I’d prefer not to use it, but I will if I have to.”
On the other side of the van, Alyson whimpered.
“I don’t know what you two are waiting for,” Ben said to Hawk and Hummer.
Hawk hesitated, but Hummer snatched up the second tranquilizer gun and pointed it straight at Alyson. “Sorry, lady. It’s nothing personal.” He pulled the trigger. Alyson’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she slumped in her seat.
“How did you two get free of your handcuffs?” asked Oliver sullenly.
“He gave us each a master key with our blankets,” Hummer said, and he moved to undo Honey’s cuffs. Hawk did the same for Happy.
“You four have followed the plan magnificently,” said Ben. “I’ll have to admit, I was a little worried going into it. Smith, you know where the first drop-off point is, don’t you? Because I don’t.”
The driver gr
unted his affirmative.
“So there were two traitors,” said Emily bitterly.
“No, just me,” said Ben. “Smith left the real driver knocked out somewhere back by the safe house.”
“Across the street, in the bushes,” said Smith from the front seat. “He’ll have quite the headache when he wakes up.”
“And really, I’m not a traitor,” Ben continued lightly. “My loyalties have been fixed from the very beginning. It’s not my fault the GCA didn’t figure that out sooner. Quincy Ivers, whose side are you on?”
Quincy, tucked away in the corner across from her unconscious handler, jumped when he said her name. “Do I get to choose?” she asked.
“According to Altair you do. This is your chance to get out. Will you take it or leave it?”
“I’ll take it,” she said without an ounce of hesitation. “I’m sorry, Hawk. I never wanted to help them.”
“I figured as much,” he replied with a wan smile.
“You’ll be sent in a different direction than the Wests,” Ben said. “You’ll probably never see each other again. Is that all right?”
Quincy nodded.
Hawk and Hummer made short work of Honey’s and Happy’s handcuffs, which they readily transferred to Alyson and the unconscious agent in the back. Hummer held up the other two sets. “One of these goes to Emily, right?”
“Right,” said Ben, and he kept his gun steadily aimed.
“What about Oliver?” asked Hummer as he gingerly moved to comply.
“What about him?”
“Does he get to choose?”
Oliver jerked in his seat. A sneer leapt to his face. “You think I’d willingly side with any of you? You’re crazy. The GCA’s going to track you all down just like before.”
“Not like before,” Ben said before Hummer could answer. “They’ve just broadcasted on the national news that they successfully recovered precious little Maddie and Alex North, along with four other children, two of whom look remarkably like Hawk and Hummer. What are they supposed to do now, admit that they botched the rescue, that one of their own men sabotaged them and carried the kids away? Or do they say that someone went and kidnapped Maddie and Alex a second time? That hardly builds public confidence in an organization like the GCA. They’ll still hunt the Wests, sure, but it’ll have to be done in secret, without relying on the general population to be their eyes and ears. That sort of hunting can be dealt with quite easily.”
“You should come with us,” Honey suddenly said to Oliver. “You should get away from Prometheus while you can.”
His face twisted in contempt. “Your words have no effect on me.”
“My projections have no effect,” she retorted. “My words have merit of their own.”
“There is nothing you could possibly say to make me switch over to your side,” Oliver told her disdainfully.
Honey sat back in her chair, and the flat look in her eyes sent a chill up Emily’s spine. “Henry and Iris Dunn,” she recited, “married June 15, 2040. One son, Oliver Henry Dunn, born September 18, 2042, currently under guardianship of the Government-Civilian Alliance at the Prometheus Institute, F Campus.”
“Shut up,” said Oliver.
“One daughter,” Honey continued, “Ruby Cecilia Dunn, born January 7, 2046.”
“Shut up!” he shouted.
“The Dunn family, except Oliver, currently resides in Silver Meadows, Nevada, and has lived there for nine years.”
He was almost beside himself with rage. “I’m not listening to you! Shut up!”
Honey’s mouth turned up in an impertinent smirk. “I thought you said my words had no effect on you.”
“That’s a cruel trick,” said Emily. “Who knows if what you said was even true?”
“You’d better hope, for the Dunn family’s sake, that it isn’t,” Ben remarked mildly. “Silver Meadows is a government-planned community. A century ago we would’ve called it an internment camp. That’s the sort of place the GCA sends civilians who don’t want to do their bidding, especially parents who don’t want to give their little ones over into government care. I should know,” he added. “I lived in one for the first ten years of my life.”
“So what, this was a personal vendetta?” Emily asked.
Ben smiled wryly. “Something like that.”
“The sedan’s been detoured,” Smith said from the front seat. “We’re almost to the first drop-off, and it needs to go as quickly as possible.”
“Come with us, Oliver,” said Quincy. “There’s nothing waiting for you at Prometheus.”
“There’s nothing waiting for me away from Prometheus,” he replied bitterly.
Her voice turned urgent. “They’re not going to send you back to Prom-A. In another couple years, they won’t even use you to solve problems with projectors on other campuses, especially now that they have Cedric at Prom-C. You’re going to end up at Prom-F until you’re eighteen, and from there you’ll be transferred to Prom-E and never see the light of day again.”
“I don’t believe you,” he said stubbornly.
“You think I was transferred to Prom-F by a fluke?” she asked. “I turned twelve and that was it. No explanation, no excuses. Genevieve just smiled and put me on a plane. Haven’t you ever wanted to choose your own path in life instead of having it handed to you by a bunch of adults?”
His face was unyielding. He didn’t even bother to answer her.
“Unfortunately, Quincy’s right,” Ben said quietly. “Null-projectors always go to Prom-E. This government doesn’t trust people they can’t control, especially the smart ones.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Emily.
“It’s policy,” Ben replied. “You’ve seen how they use projectors like Veronica. Imagine if Oliver were standing in a crowd she was supposed to indoctrinate. The powers-that-be wouldn’t be able to control how their message was received. Obviously their best plan of prevention is to keep null-projectors isolated from everyone else, and that means Prom-E. That’s the future you have to look forward to, Oliver.”
“Out of the mouth of a snake,” Oliver sneered.
The van abruptly stopped, and the back doors swung open. “I’ve got an angry caged bird and a waiting car,” said a man in a black ski mask. “Four Wests come with me.”
“And one Ivers,” Ben said. He tipped his head to motion for Quincy to go as well.
“Oliver,” said Quincy haltingly.
“We don’t have time for negotiations,” Ben interrupted. “Just go without him.”
The four Wests paused outside the van.
“Thanks, Ruth,” said Hawk.
“Thanks, Ruth,” said Hummer.
“Thanks, Ruth,” said Honey and Happy together.
“Thanks, Birchard,” Quincy said, and the doors shut.
“Ruth is short for Rutherford,” Ben said in explanation to Emily as the van started to move again. “You know, Rutherford B. Hayes? Rutherford Birchard Hayes?”
“Very clever,” she said insincerely.
“Well, now, you’re not very fun at all.” He put the gun back into his coat and moved to sit across from them.
Just because the weapon was out of sight didn’t mean it was out of Emily’s mind. He could draw it out again at any time. She thought it best to keep him distracted. “Is that even your real name? Birchard, I mean.”
“No. Neither is Ben, for what it’s worth.”
“I thought that was short for Benedict Arnold.”
He smiled wanly. “I suppose there’s no point in trying to persuade you to my way of seeing things. It’s sad, really, because I think if we’d met under different circumstances, we could’ve gotten along together quite well.”
“You mean different circumstances like where you weren’t a conniving traitor?”
“No, just where you weren’t a blind idealist,” he said. “But then, that’s part of your charm, so I wouldn’t wish that to be otherwise. You and I have differing views, that’s all.
You are content to live in a world where the government can steal a couple’s children at gun-point on a whim. I’m not.”
“That’s never happened,” said Emily hotly.
“You’re naïve,” Ben replied, his voice like steel. “How do you think the Wests ended up at Prometheus in the first place? A judge declared the parents incompetent and issued a warrant in the middle of the night for the children to be taken away.”
“Maybe they were incompetent.”
“They had gifted children that the government wanted to control. They could’ve been the most competent people on the planet, and the government still would’ve taken those children away. I lost a sister to Prometheus,” he added with growing anger. “I was lucky not to bear the same genetic curse that she did, but I saw firsthand the destruction that her disappearance caused in my own family. And she and the Wests aren’t the only ones. At least half the kids at Prometheus have that same story, including Oliver.”
Emily had nothing to say to this.
Oliver spoke up instead. “You don’t know that.”
“The GCA doesn’t relocate willing donor-parents,” Ben said in a flat voice. “It’s only the unwilling ones that need to be watched. It doesn’t matter, though. I know perfectly well that nothing I say will convince you that I’m telling the truth.”
“So what’s your real name?” Emily asked. One hand rested on her pocket, where her cell phone lay hidden. The microphone would be recording everything. If she could get him to divulge some useful information…
Ben seemed to read her thoughts. “I reprogrammed your phone,” he said bluntly. “Earlier, when you let me borrow it. Alyson’s too.” He withdrew that object from his pocket and tossed it to the floor. “They’re both stuck on a two-hour loop of audio from this afternoon. Members of the elite retrieval squad aren’t allowed to carry phones into a mission like this—no one wants home invasions recorded, you know—so we’re all basically free to say whatever we want right now.”
A Rumor of Real Irish Tea (Annals of Altair Book 2) Page 24