by P. S. Power
Rather than hurry the man along, back to the point of where the drop needed to be made, he nodded.
“I can get you hooked up that way, if you need. Not all the time, but we have a man coming in from a different world. Possibly at least. One of the best at making changes like this. So, if you need a way to vanish, we can do that. Make you look different and maybe get you to a different reality where surviving won’t be all that hard. There’s a time window on it, since otherwise we’d have to take you to his people. That might show up and be tracked. The IPB is watched, constantly. We can get around it, but have to be careful.”
Scarpetti nodded then, as if the words made sense to him at all.
“I don’t need it myself. The people I work for are pretty happy with me right now. They’ll be happier if we actually come up with the items they need procured. A few of my associates could possibly use that kind of help though. Not everyone got as lucky as I did, meeting up with you. Now… You really found the goods? Or is that just bullshit to buy time. We could lie and tell them that it will take another month, I think. Use that line you handed me about knowing where it is going to be then? Say that some psychic did the work on it.”
Richard shook his head, smiling a bit.
“Ah. Not that one, oddly enough. We actually have the information and my crew can pull the job. I doubt anyone else in the world could, though. We should have the man I mentioned in for that work in a few days. If you can… We can set up something not too far from here. Maybe at a random hotel or something. Change the people you want to vanish and make certain they have the needed papers? If it’s too hot, we can get some of them to different realities, too. I need numbers of people going, first. Plus, they can’t be too bad. Evil, I mean? We can get people in with some small things, but our main transport between realities is Proxy. If they’re too far gone that way, he’ll probably start fighting them instantly. On the good side he doesn’t really care about white collar crimes. Just don’t kill anyone in front of him.”
Brian Yi was actually a good man. Solid in every way. He had a reputation as the killer of killers though, which had Tom widening his eyes.
“Fuck, you have him in with you? How the fuck did you manage that?”
There was a shrug then, which was more or less real.
“Honestly? I just asked. Then offered him ten percent of the take. He didn’t make it hard. No one there really did. So, we can do this in three days. Do you want the items first? It’s probably safer if you don’t know exactly what’s in them. Unless you need insurance. In that case… Well, I won’t tell you how to do that sort of thing. You know already. Otherwise you wouldn’t have made it this far.”
The man gave a grim nod.
“Can we do both? I need copies, without it showing up on the radar. Then we can have your people do the drop for us? Just… Teleport it into the location and take the money at the same time or whatever is safest. I’ll get a spot for that and an exact time. Will that work? I don’t want your friends to end up dead over this.”
Richard didn't want that either. It wasn’t very likely, but underestimating these people had to be about the last thing that he’d ever manage to do. Instead of pretending he didn't get the need for care, even if he didn’t strictly know who he was working for, even though he was fairly certain that he’d seen at least some of them doing horrible things to children on video, he simply agreed.
“I’ll have you called in three days for that information then. We can… do the other things as well. Get with your friends and we’ll make certain that you have that insurance.”
There was a tapping on the glass, which dropped down a fraction of an inch.
“Pull around again, please?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Scarpetti.” The driver activated the glass then, as if it was a common thing to do. When he was hidden from view again, Tom let out a deep breath.
“I’m probably not going to make it. I should just run. The only thing there is that, if I do that, then a lot of other people will die. They might even go after Ronaldo and Sally, since I’m not really all that close to anyone else in the world. A few business friends, if we can call them that. I never gave them the blackmail material they wanted to have over me, which means that they found other ways to keep me in line.”
The words sounded like they were more or less true. Anyone might be threatened that way as well. Even something truly random would work against a lot of people. Just point to a random waitress and let them know that this woman they had nothing to do with would die if they didn't toe the party line and most good regular people would pretty much have to fall into line.
It wouldn’t really work with psychopaths, but for almost anyone else it should. That a lawyer could be influenced that way was a bit odd, perhaps.
From the look on his face, it was a real enough thing, regardless of that factor. The man seemed scared and wasn’t running, to protect people like Sally and even Ronaldo, the club owner.
When the car stopped, the other limo right behind it, Richard stepped out. Right in front of the fight club warehouse.
“Thanks for the business ideas, Mr. Scarpetti. I’ll get that proposal back to you by next Monday!” The words sounded real enough to sell the idea, to most listeners. That or they’d think he was busy servicing the man as a rent boy. Either way worked, as long as no one guessed the truth.
Then the two, very large, black cars just rolled away, heading down the street, into the dark of the night.
Chapter nine
It felt like it took forever to get everyone back to the base, where most of them had beds for the night. Price Lloyd, being an Agent of the IPB, meaning a regular, non-Infected human being, had a place in town, off base. He also had a car, so was able to drive himself home, once Lydia came to transport them all back to Montana.
The girl was a dear of course, so Richard walked with her as she took everyone through various weak points in space, ending at what he was assured was a very large version of such things, a node, which allowed her to get them back directly. It took about twenty minutes all told, which wasn’t bad, considering they’d moved about a thousand-five-hundred miles in that time. On foot, if they weren’t counting the super powers involved.
Rich had made himself travel with everyone else, even if he could have simply gone into a mirror, or even just imagined one and gotten himself back to his place directly. It was late at night but Marcia Turner had his cat, which meant retrieving her for the evening, even if he had to turn around and be back inside half a day.
That part… Well, he was going to crash pretty hard. As it was, even being propped up by speed and a bit of caffeine, it was clear to him that sleep would be happening soon. At least if he didn't dose himself again in the next hour or so.
The little tabby cat wasn’t staying in Turner’s room, even if that might have been the more polite way of doing things. Instead she was sleeping in the main office of the headquarters, in the lobby, off to the side. The tiny girl cat was gray and mottled, with brilliant eyes that shone excitedly as soon as they opened. Sleepy or not, she bounded over to him, leaping into his arms as he bent over.
“There’s my girl! How have things been going, while I was gone?” It probably seemed off to the young lady behind the desk. One that he didn't recognize, meaning it was probably June. She was an energy being, designed to be something of a comic book hero by one of the cooks there at the base. Riggs was his name. June was a shape shifter, who could take any female form. Human looking ones at least.
Richard had to admit that he’d seldom seen her as anything except a regular seeming woman. She was also a surface level telepath, so looked at him and smiled sweetly as he thought all of those things about her.
Tabby purred, and meowed, first thing. That caused a line of images and ideas to cross Richard’s brain suddenly. In a deeper and more meaningful way than mere imagination would have allowed. Not everything was clear, since it was, obviously, what the tiny cat had seen. That meant tha
t all of the human people looked giant to her and their words just sounded like random noises.
There was a blue blob that glowed, however, who was next to a blue blob that didn’t do that at all. The voices sounded right, interestingly enough. The random, somewhat upset, noises coming from the brighter blob were very clearly Karen Young. The calmer, more mechanical sounds from the other blob seemed to be Dave Wilson. It was all gibberish, but he knew which person was supposed to be making it happen.
It was loud enough that a tan and lighter colored blob came in and barked at them both, finally pulling the glowing woman away, out of the room.
“Um, Karen went off on Mr. Wilson and had to be separated?” He wasn’t certain who had done the pulling away, to be honest. Most of the front office staff were women, after all. The light-colored hair on top could mean it was Mableton, but if it had been her, she either wouldn’t have cared and let the argument go on, even if it was heated, or would have hit someone, taking the chance for an extra bit of violence while it was legal and almost ethical to get away with it.
Plus, she wouldn’t have struggled as hard to get Karen Young out of the room. Lady Glory had a powerful ability, when it came to subduing people. Her blue glow left everyone feeling so kind and loving that most couldn’t take action at all. Those that could tended to hug people. Gently.
What she didn’t have were any physical abilities that were beyond what a normal, really fit, woman would have going on. Cindy Mableton could pick up small cars without sweating. The contrast wasn’t going to lead to people being properly wrestled out of the room. Cin would have picked her up with one arm and walked away, if she cared to try at all.
Tabby nodded at him, looking up into his eyes. The lady behind the desk, who looked a bit heavyset that evening, as well as blocky and freckled, even if her hair was bright blue and she had a pierced nose, did that as well. Nodding that he was correct.
“Yeah. I wasn’t here for it. Sinclair of all people had to pull her away. Not that it sounds like it was really Dave’s fault. A Senator, one of the new ones, called in and suggested that Karen and she get together for a drink. You know, in that way?”
Richard did know. It had been rumored around the office that a lot of powerful politicians tried to use the IPB as their own private brothels far too often. Worse, the tradition there had been for certain people to be sent off to basically whore themselves out to that sort, in exchange for positive votes later.
“Dave told her to do it?” That was hard to hear but Richard could kind of see it. After all, they were in a delicate position and didn’t get a lot of natural back-up from the political class.
Making a friend of his service some asshole wasn’t exactly thrilling to learn about, but Dave Wilson was in charge of the IPB outreach program that worked with other branches of the government. Mainly the FBI and DHS, with a few other agencies were coming around now that it seemed to work pretty well for those groups and word had spread.
June shook her head, looking an awful lot like she belonged on a college campus, bashing the patriarchy. Still, if that was her mood that day, Rich could see it, given what he was hearing.
“Nope. You’d think it would be that one, but it was the other thing that he could have done to set her off. Dave called the Senator back and told her that if she ever tried to demand sex from any of his people again, there was going to be an ethics investigation. Not that we can make that happen. Not easily at least. When Karen heard about it… She went off, I guess. Something about needing those votes?”
Which was probably true. Richard hadn’t really been around for it, having been busy dying in an old folks’ home at the time, but a few years before the government had basically tried to put all Infected into death camps. They weren’t called that, naturally. They never were. Even Hitler hadn’t called the things that.
The votes had all been so close that not having a genocide had probably come down to Karen Young getting on her knees and making certain they had friends in the right places. Then, meaning well, no doubt and being a man, David had stepped in to protect his people. Like he should have.
Which didn’t mean that Karen was wrong in what she was thinking. If another situation like that one showed up inside ten years, they might really end up missing that Senator’s support.
“Ah… Got it then. I have… Nothing that I can do about it at all. Not today at least. Right now, I’m heading back to my place. I’d invite you, of course, but I’m not certain this place can run without you.” He just meant to get her out of the hot zone, instead of into his bed. The words were wrong for that, which, being a telepath, the woman knew.
So instead of slapping him down, she just blew a gust of air out, making her cheeks go big.
“If I wasn’t needed here, I’d take you up on it. You need sleep though, so get to that. I’ll log where you are. You’re coming back inside twelve hours? We have another group set to go out at five in the afternoon. The bus is scheduled to get here at four.”
He nodded, since it was his job to see to that portion of things. Even if he wasn’t really needed for it, personally. Except that, of course, he was, for the time being. Going to a different reality was a big deal for most people and someone had to show up to guide them in. Lydia could have done it, since she had to go anyway, being their transport for the next day.
The woman had her own job to do though, other than that. Yes, that was mainly answering phones and probably being hit on by politicians, but it was important. For a moment he really understood how Dave had felt though. If Richard had found out that someone was really demanding sex from Lydia, using the death of tens of thousands or more to blackmail her, he wouldn’t have been happy either.
He cared a lot less about Karen Young, as it turned out. The woman was nice and pretty enough, without being important to him at all. His crew was made up of other people.
Kerry, Denis, Lydia, and Brian, mainly. Katie of course. Tabby, though that was a different relationship.
Holding her closely, he moved into the bathroom of the office building, the golden colored carpet rubbing slightly under his tired feet. Once there he used the mirror, touching it gently. Then, not being an idiot, he looked around the world of faintly glowing stars and mentally cast a golden colored rope with a lasso on the end out into the darkness. Then, in one mighty pull, inside his thoughts, he drew the correct dot to himself, which showed the interior of a bathroom on the other side. Not the one he’d just left, but his own.
Meaning the place was empty, other than a few toiletries and some new towels.
As soon as he touched the mirror again, there was the sense of a flash, leaving both himself and the little cat in the crook of his left arm in the now familiar room. Setting her down gently, he grinned.
“I need to get to bed soon. Do you need anything to eat?” He probably did himself. It wasn’t happening, of course. Rest was, for the moment, simply more important to him.
More so than it had been a moment before. In fact, his eyes simply shut, even as he stood there, the door to the bathroom still closed, though a single light had been left on, so that he could see what was in the room from a distance.
“What the hell?” He wasn’t just tired now, but nearly had to lay down on the floor. Instead of doing that, using a bit of will power that he was surprised was left, given how he was feeling, Richard opened the door, letting Tabby run out into the apartment.
Then, stumbling, for real, as if he might not make it to bed, he tried to think about what was going on. Slowly, it dawned on him.
“Okay. You came back from L.A. with Lydia. She used her line walking tricks, which work differently. Then you came here and the mirror world reset you when you came back out. With no drugs in your system.” Apparently, even if he was perfectly healthy now, which is what happened when he came out of the mirror world, that didn’t make up for not having slept in several days at all.
For a moment, he missed being a Ysidril. Having all those useful arms and also n
ot needing to sleep. There had been some down time in order to sort memories, but that had taken minutes per day and was kind of interesting to watch happen. Just then he really needed to find his bed and fast.
For the first time in years, he didn't even change his clothing before laying down. That was never as comfortable for him in the long run. A thing that decades of life had finally taught him, by the time he was in his thirties. At the moment though it wasn’t taking place, even with magical clothing on. He found his simply appointed bed chamber and moved inside, not even being able to close the door. Then, gracelessly, his slender form fell on top of the shiny bed spread.
There was light coming through the window when he woke up, the clock radio on his side table saying it was noon already. That was only about nine hours of sleep and honestly, he could have gone in for more than that, if given a chance.
“Up and at em’ boyo. You know the drill. Go back to sleep now and you won’t get up for another five hours.” Then the rest of the day would be messed up, with people being late to get into Noram. Meaning the mages there would be waiting for eight hours for every one that he took to get there. It was much more sensible for him to simply go and get things done right.
Besides, if he got to the base early he could set up some cameras and a list of facts about what they needed to get from Gillian. After all, while the girl was going to have to come back in order to testify, eventually, that didn't mean they needed to put her at risk the whole time. When the time came, she could come back and have a heavy guard on her, like had been suggested to him in Noram. With shields and weapons that would be hard to beat.
Not impossible, to do, of course. After all, the IPB had people that could do it and they didn't own all the Infected talent on the planet or anything. Mableton had even mentioned magic being used, possibly. That sounded insane, except that he was, literally, wearing magical clothing as he climbed out of bed that morning. Or, afternoon, as it turned out.