“Wow. How come I’ve never heard of it?”
“There isn’t a lot of unexploded ordinance in the US.” She finishes her coffee off before standing up to stretch. “I need a shower. How long, Epic?”
ETA thirty minutes.
133
Argentina is gorgeous from the air. I imagine it is just as pretty from the ground. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but as we come down to only a few thousand feet I can see forests and lakes, immense cliffs and waterfalls. It’s breathtaking. The city itself is huge! Right on the mouth of a bay with parks and trees right next to skyscrapers and old buildings that look like they are straight out of ancient Rome.
Epic has had us flying in circles over the city for almost an hour while we wait for clearance. We’re not here on “official” business: no powers, no costumes. I had Major Nelson issue us some special passes to come down here and ask a few questions—something he was more than happy to do if it meant I stopped being angry with him. Which I have. He’s a cog. A nice guy, but a cog all the same. He can no more refuse to follow an order than a worker ant. Great for fighting wars, terrible for making value judgments.
“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?” I ask Kate. The walls of the jet are see-through in full image mode. I feel like I’m flying inside an invisible jet. It’s beautiful, but a little unnerving. Good thing it’s only invisible from the inside.
She emerges from the shower suite. Her hair falls in a perfectly straight waterfall around her head. She’s switched into her casual combat clothes, as she likes to call them: jeans, a canvas button up shirt, and her two-inch heeled biker boots. She has three belts looped around her waist where she’d normally keep IP pistols and other accouterments. She shrugs a three-quarter length coat over her shoulders and gives me a smile.
“What? This isn’t a costume and I’m not carrying any weapons.”
“Uh-huh. And let’s say, for the sake of argument, that we were to get into trouble down here… I’m sure you don’t have all your weapons laid out next to your cat?”
“Pshaw. Perish the thought,” she says with mock offense. “It’s not the prettiest city on the planet, but it’s a close second,” she says.
I don’t ask her what the prettiest is. I suspect she thinks it’s Paris. Considering her power-set, she could live anywhere in the world and commute to work in a few seconds.
The Emjet turns for Ezeiza International Airport then straightens out. “Looks like we’ve finally gotten clearance to land.”
Amelia, I believe they were stalling in the hopes we would run low on fuel and be forced to divert to another city. It was not until after I explained we have unlimited flight time that they gave us clearance to land.
“Methinks you may be on to something, Kate.”
I laugh. I’m so happy to be back and to have her by my side again. I wish we could do this as a team. For a fleeting moment, I think about Luke… before I get my head back in the game. Any sign that we’re here as heroes—we violate all kinds of international law. The only crime we could even think about stopping down here would be a murder—and we’d have to prove we didn’t go looking for trouble.
Kate grabs my chair handles and pushes me toward the door. The hatch slides open and the ramp lowers, enabling us to walk at a nice angle with no risk of me rolling wildly out of control.
Dang if it isn’t cold, though. I hug myself; even through my puffy down jacket, the forty-degree weather nips away at me.
“Right now, I wish you had fire powers. Maybe we should look for an elemental to join our team while we’re down here. We keep going to cold places,” I tell her.
“You should try a Russian winter if you want real cold,” she says with a smirk as we reach the bottom.
Waiting for us is the black Ford Expedition I ordered ahead of time. It was rented it through a very private, very expensive security firm down here. No one could tell how armored it really is just by looking at it.
However, we didn’t order the uniformed woman waiting for us by the car.
“Greetings,” she says in almost perfect English. “I am Sergento Catia Tichenor, I’ll be your liaison while you are here in beautiful Buenos Aires.” I raise an eyebrow and glance up at Kate.
Sergento Tichenor stands patiently, all five foot, four inches of her. She’s clearly fit, her white top hugs her, showing off the taut muscles in her arms when she holds her hand out to shake mine. I look up at her tan face and bright blue eyes as I shake her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sergento Tichenor.”
“Please, call me Tia—the rest of my name is a mouthful, even for me,” she says with a smile. Her grip is firm, but not domineering. I don’t sense any power plays here, just a pleasant woman doing her job the best she can.
Kate lifts her eyebrow as she shakes the woman’s hand, and I recognize the look on her face. It’s subtle, but she’s reading the police officer.
“I noticed you brought your own vehicle? I would be happy to drive you in my patrol car,” she says, pointing over to a blue and white sedan that would look more at home in the suburbs than as a police car.
Kate holds on to her hand for a second longer than is appropriate, giving Tia her best smile. “That’s okay, Sergento—Tia. We’d prefer to take our own vehicle. Though, neither of us have ever visited your beautiful home. Would you consider driving?”
“Of course,” she says. Her face lights up. “It would be my privilege to escort two such honored personages as yourself. It is why I’m here. When the Chief found out that Arsenal and Domino, heroes of the war with the Th’un were visiting, he insisted.”
My cheeks heat up, despite the cold air. “Uh, you know who we are?”
“Sim Senhora. Everyone knows who you are.”
I sink down into my coat. People recognizing me on the street isn’t something I’m used to. Kate puts a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay. Breathe.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” I whisper. Kate pushes me toward the SUV. Sergento… Tia follows, opening the front door after I unlock it. As she does, I realize she’s only wearing her uniform. Black shoes, pants, the white shirt, and badge. No guns, no cuffs, no clubs, nothing.
“You noticed that she isn’t wearing any weapons?” Kate asks in a whisper to me as we go around the back. “She must be an admin…” Kate trails off.
“But?” I ask.
“But she’s incredibly confident. Both of her place and of herself. It’s hard to pin down.”
I shrug. At least she’ll be a good driver. Two ground crew from the private group we contracted come over with our bags and load them into the back of the Expedition. Kate easily scoops me up and places me in the rear seat then folds my chair and sticks it in the back with our bags.
Within a few minutes, we are exiting the airport. The heater hums along, keeping the inside of the vehicle a pleasant seventy-six.
“Where will you be visiting today?” Tia asks innocently.
“You weren’t told?” Kate asks.
I’m a little stunned she doesn’t know. I figured half the reason she was here was because of who we were coming to see.
“No. Was I supposed to be?” She glances in the mirror to look at me, her green eyes holding my own for a moment. Kate reaches back with her right arm and taps my hand. Truth.
“We are visiting the non-profit group, Superhumans for a Super World?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know where that is. We have many fine organizations who headquarter here because of the weather and beaches.”
I reach into my bag and slip on the glasses I use to interface with Epic. “That’s okay. Epic, can you upload the location to the car’s navigation, please.”
Done.
“Who is Epic?” she asks, stumbling over the unfamiliar word.
“He’s my friend. He handles all the computer stuff.”
I suppose I should be thankful you did not call me ‘your assistant’ or something.
“Quiet you,” I whisper.
&nbs
p; “We will be there in fifteen minutes,” Tia says. “Buenos Aires is the best city in the world. Please allow me to give you the tour while we go?”
“By all means, Tia,” Kate says.
I tune her out as we drive, bringing up the virtual keyboard to do a little programming. The suit’s delivery system still needs a little work, and this is the perfect time to do it.
134
Superhumans for a Super World might as well be the headquarters of a corporate giant. The building isn’t the usual skyscraper, but a dome. Engraved on the outside is a map that takes up the entire side of the building. The metal exterior is brushed so as not to reflect the sun. The lines that make up the map are raised, catching the sun and highlighting the outline of the landmasses on the Earth. An interesting design.
“The building has restricted parking,” Tia tells us as we drive past. “I can find us a good spot only a few blocks away.
“Sure, that would be great,” I tell her. I know she’s concerned about my chair, but it really isn’t an issue. I’ve wheeled around rougher areas, and with Kate here… well, worst case, she could just pick me up.
A few minutes later we’re on the street, having left our vehicle in a secure parking structure. Now that we’re a little closer I can see the cracks in the façade of this “perfect city” she talks about. Tia walks like a woman on alert, eyes scanning the area around us as we move from street to street. My nerves creep up on me, sending goosebumps all along my skin. I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. Clearly, our officer guide doesn’t think this is the safest part of the city.
“Quit it, Amelia. You’re freaking me out,” Kate says as she pushes me down the street.
“It’s not me,” I say, nodding at our guide a few feet in front of us.
“She’s just being a cop, checking angles and watching out for her charges. We’re not in any real danger right now. Try and can your paranoia for a minute so I can think.”
I bite down a remark about how my paranoia is completely justified. She’s right, though. Kate’s an empath, and me freaking out could put us in actual danger if she can’t read the emotions of the people around us because I’m hyperventilating.
I take a few breaths and let them out slowly. She pats my shoulder. “Good girl.”
Our escort leads us to the front entrance of the building. The dome cuts an impressive figure up close. The double front doors look like some form of armored glass. I don’t miss the armed guards behind the desk as we enter. They greet Tia in Spanish. I can understand some of it. They seem friendly enough. That’s something. She responds with a phrase indicating we’re in charge.
“How may we help you?” They ask in English, turning to us.
I hand over the official looking letter from the US Department of Justice, courtesy of Major Nelson. He takes the letter and scans it, his eyes narrow.
“I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding.” His voice is pleasant enough but the tone of his body language, and that of his companion, completely shifts. Kate picks up on it too and stiffens. I don’t quite have all the bugs worked out of my delivery system, but I reach for the bracer wrapped around my left wrist just in case.
I shouldn’t have worried.
Airborne toxins detected. Epic informs me. Well, they’re not toxins per se. Just Kate’s pheromones kicking into overdrive.
“As you can tell,” she says in her deceptively seductive voice. “We have all the correct permissions to meet with Mr. Rafael. Per his contract with the UN, inspectors from any signatory government can review his procedures.”
I watch the haze fall over the guard. Tia gives me a perplexed look and I just smile. Kate told me once that she can target her pheromones to men or women and I’m guessing Tia is like me; she doesn’t feel the effects. But boy, the guards sure do.
“Of course, señorita. Let me punch this code into the computer and we will generate you some passes, si?” he actually seems like he’s asking her permission to proceed. Kate nods and leans over the front desk allowing her scent to infect them even more. The poor guy on the left looks like he’s about to pass out, just standing there, eyes wide, swaying in the wind.
A few seconds later he hands us two badges.
“What about the Sergento?”
“I’m sorry señorita, but the paper is only for the two of you. If you could sign here,” he says barely more audible than a whisper. Kate signs the form then hands it to me.
“Tia, you mind waiting for us here in the lobby? It shouldn’t be that long, but if you have other things to do please don’t let us keep you,” I tell her.
“No, no, that’s fine.” She slips a thin black phone out of her pocket. “I will just read until you return,” she says. She walks over to the small waiting area and plops down. It’s hard not to admire the way she moves; incredibly graceful, each muscle pushing and pulling, rippling under her skin. Regret swells up in me before I push it down.
Walking isn’t worth Kate not having an arm.
Kate pins the badge to my shirt before placing her own. “Thank you, gentlemen.”
They both nod enthusiastically. “If there is anything else you need,” one says, handing her a card. “This has my private number on it. Call me anytime.”
“Thank you, Hector.” She smiles and pats him on the cheek. “You’re a doll.” Kate resumes her spot behind me, smiling the whole time as we turn away from the guards toward the bank of elevators.
“I’m never washing this cheek.” I hear Hector say as we move away. I do my best to stifle a laugh. I’ve been on the receiving end of Kate’s beneficial whammies before. She can make anyone feel like the center of the universe. It’s quite the rush.
“I wouldn’t have taken her for a reader,” Kate says as the lift doors shut.
“Who? Tia?” I ask. I can see Kate’s reflection in the mirrored elevator door as we talk.
She nods. “There are few people I have a hard time seeing through, she’s one of them.”
“Does she have a power that blocks you? Or maybe the police have tech?”
Kate shakes her head. “No, nothing like that. She’s an open book. It’s not that I can’t tell what her emotions are… it’s more like I’m having trouble interpreting them. She’s so honest and good-natured my brain tells me she must be lying. Too many years at the CIA or too many around you, I’m slipping into old habits of paranoia.”
I scoff. “Don’t look at me. I’ve been paranoid since I was six years old. I warned you all what would happen if my armor got out there. And here we are, with my tech out there in the hands of people who are less than savory.”
She sighs. “I’m very sorry, Amelia. You have to know they didn’t have any choice.”
I shrug. “What’s done is done. Now it’s my job to fix it. Though I fear I won’t ever be able to put this genie back in the bottle.”
The lift dings, letting us know we have arrived. The doors slide open, revealing a lush waiting area with a single, sparse desk. A dark-skinned, voluptuous woman in a low-cut red dress that doesn’t quite go past her knees sits behind the desk waiting for us. She’s wearing a headset on one ear; as we exit the elevator she reaches out and presses a button.
“Mr. Rafael, your guests from the US government are here.” Her voice is so uniformly pleasant that I can’t help but think she’s practiced that response a million times. She nods to something we can’t hear as Kate pushes me to rest in front of the desk. She smiles at us and holds up her hand with one finger out in the universal “wait” gesture.
I glance up at Kate who shrugs. We wait. What the heck could he be saying that is taking so long? A full minute goes by according to the clock display on my AR glasses.
“Mr. Rafael apologizes for the delay,” she says suddenly. “He’s in a meeting at the moment and cannot be disturbed. Perhaps if you were to come back later…?”
Kate shakes her head. “Tell Mr. Rafael that he has no choice here if he wants to continue operating within the UN treat
y.”
Her mask slips for a second. She opens her mouth to speak but stops suddenly as if someone interrupted her.
“Mr. Rafael can see you now.”
Without her moving, the wall opposite us parts. I smile as we pass. “Thank you.”
Ricardo Rico Rafael’s office is immense; it dominates the entire top floor. The east and west sides of the building are completely see-through, allowing constant sunlight throughout the day. At the farthest end from the door—an uncomfortably long distance to travel in a wheelchair with someone watching—is a small lounge area. No desk, three couches in a square, and a couple of plush chairs. All of which are upholstered in the same gray color—somewhere between a storm cloud and watercolors.
Sitting on the farthest couch with his legs crossed is Ricardo Rico Rafael. I already don’t like him. His smug, self-assured grin as we approach would be enough to piss off Mother Teresa.
I decide to take him on and stare right back at him with as much confidence as I can muster. He certainly looks the part of the non-profit CEO: white slip-on shoes with no socks, gray slacks that match his jacket, and a white t-shirt. His jet-black hair is cut short and speckled with gray on the sides. His goatee, though, is perfectly sculpted and bears no sign of the gray that is on his temples. He certainly has removed the color from his life. Everything in his office is a shade of gray. He twirls a short handled black cane with a red gem on the top. I don’t know anything about gemstones, but it looks like glass to me. The only painting on display is of a massive tree with many branches spreading out. Epic tags it as The Gray Tree by Piet Mondrian and pops up a little Wikipedia article about him. I’m not sure why Epic feels that is of use, but it gives me something to read while Kate pushes us toward our meeting.
“Ladies, it’s always a pleasure to have visitors from the US Department of Justice.” He says with his eyes sparkling as they look Kate up and down. “I must say though, they usually aren’t as attractive as you, madam.”
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