by Gini Koch
Omega Red was assisting Chernobog and passing along information as well. Stryker and Big George, however, seemed to be continuing the download of our old data.
Sidled over to Stryker because my staring at Serene wasn’t going to help anybody, me especially. Distraction, that was the key. Otherwise I’d probably cause Jeff to overload empathically. Hey, it was my excuse and I was sticking with it.
“Eddy,” I said in a low voice, “my mother doesn’t trust that Chernobog’s giving us the real goods, so to speak.”
He nodded. “I think what we have so far is the real deal. But we had to download it quickly to get to the information on androids. We kept it in a separate server we have here. It’s isolated, not connected to the rest of the system, or any other system.”
“Good security.”
“Only if the data coming is bad in some way. If it’s good, that means that much more of a delay in getting the information back out to Dulce and elsewhere.” He looked over his shoulder. “And if that explodes right now, then we’ve lost everything.”
“Yeah, thanks for the reminder. But Mom’s right. This woman’s spent decades hiding, in plain sight most of the time, and all of that time covering her butt. If she’s helping us, there’s going to be more to it than her hoping we can call off the assassins after her.”
“Yeah, and if it were me, I’d build in a fail-safe so that if I didn’t check in with whatever my special codes are at a specified time or similar, the data would corrupt, or worse.”
We looked at each other. “Enjoy searching for that.”
“I won’t be able to find it quickly, none of us will.” He grimaced. “It’s kind of tough on the ego, to discover that there’s some old lady who’s so much better at your life’s work than you are.”
“She’s had a lot more years at it.” Patted his shoulder. “You’re still number one in my book, Eddy.”
He gave me a rather nice smile. “Thanks, Kitty. Always nice to be appreciated versus threatened.”
Stared at him for a moment. “Yeah,” I said slowly, “you’re right. Flies to honey and all that.” Turned around and went over to Chernobog, who seemed to be done with her part of the medical stuff, at least for right now. “Thank you.”
She eyed me suspiciously. “For what?”
“For giving us the data so swiftly so that we’d have a hope of saving what’s left of this man and Colonel Butler.”
“It was in my best interests.”
“Maybe. But you could have stalled it out. I just wanted you to know that we appreciate this.”
“Enough to let me go?”
“No. I wasn’t kidding. You need to give us what you’ve taken from the U.S. government, and we need to verify that this data, and what you’ve given back to us today, is secure and not rigged with something.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because it would be smart, and if there’s one thing I know you are it’s smart.”
She gave me a long look. “True. I realize you’re holding back the other things you say I need to do so you get all the information you want. I’d like to know what those are.”
“And I’d like to know who hired you to hit us last year. You go first.”
“I didn’t meet them face-to-face.”
“Oh, come on. Why would they trust you without meeting you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Why would I be willing to meet with them? Until today, I’ve managed to be known to only a handful of people. Why in the world would I allow people who obviously have no morals or scruples to see who I am?”
She had a point. And it was interesting that she seemed to feel that she, unlike her employers, had morals or scruples. Hoped that was true, versus the Sly Fox playing me. “They were able to find your son.”
“Because I told them where he was. That was my price of participation—that they free Russell.”
That was confirmation of our strong suspicions already, which tracked. Then again, she could have figured we’d have already guessed this. My brain was already tired of trying to extrapolate all the potential if-then statements regarding Chernobog’s motivations. “We know that’s not his real name.”
She shrugged. “Who cares? It’s the name that works for right now.”
“Ronald Yates was his father, wasn’t he?”
“Yes.” Her lips quirked. “You seem to know quite a lot of things about me I’d thought were well hidden.”
“We kind of have an edge on all things Yates. Not as much of an edge as our enemies do, but enough to make some educated guesses. So, what’s Russell’s talent?”
“He has none.”
“Bunk.”
“No, it’s true. He has no talents. Believe me, I paid attention.”
“What did Yates think of that?”
“I have no idea. I never let him know we had a child.”
“Oh, come on. I’m supposed to believe that?”
“Believe what you want. I know what he did to his other children. I didn’t want my child to become some sick scientist’s laboratory rat.”
“How old is Russell?”
“I’m sure he’s told you, and you can guess from looking at him. He’s forty-five.”
This didn’t track. Chernobog turned away from me and started giving Serene some instructions. Decided now was as good a time as any to risk it and sent Buchanan a text to call me if he could. My phone rang almost immediately. Trotted back to my spot right by the floater gate. “What’s up, Missus Chief?”
“I have a question for your new bestest bud. Was the name Russell Koslow on the his list?”
“Hang on.” Heard voices murmuring. “No. But we’re assuming that’s not Koslow’s real name.”
“Yeah, but he’s about the same age and wasn’t listed.”
More background murmuring. “Siler knows of no other sibling in his age range.”
“Interesting.” So, Chernobog was probably telling the truth. “Thanks.” Caught him up quickly on what was going on here—trying to downplay the danger, mostly so I wouldn’t freak out anyone in the room, or stress myself out even more—which he relayed to Team Assassin. “So, Chernobog says she hid the fact that they had a kid together from Yates,” I said by way of wrapping up.
“Per your uncles, she’s extremely cautious. They feel that this tracks much more with what they know of her than her being a Yates groupie.”
“Gotcha, and thanks. See you soon if we don’t blow up.”
“I’d tell you to be careful but no one in that room other than Chernobog seems to comprehend what that phrase means.”
We hung up just as Serene gave a shout and I jumped. “Got them!” she said triumphantly as I landed. Thankfully, no one but Jeff was looking at me. He put his arm around me and hugged me, without even chuckling. Too much.
“The bombs?” I asked.
“Essentially, at least some. The self-destruct mechanism is fully removed.” Serene carefully closed the back of Maurer’s head. “Now, let’s turn him over.”
“Why?”
“Because the remote destruct wasn’t in his head, Kitty. So I have to assume it’s in his sternum somewhere.” Goody. We still had another bomb defusing scenario to go through. Couldn’t wait.
“It might not be an explosive,” Chuckie said. “If they can simulate a heart attack, that would work just as well.”
“Not if paramedics showed up,” Kyle pointed out.
“Oh, I imagine they’d have an ambulance standing by in that case. They’re not blowing someone up on a whim.”
Serene nodded. “Good point, Kitty. I’ll look for both, Chuck.”
“There are different intricacies,” Chernobog said. Then she started listing a lot of very detailed scientific things that my brain decided Chuckie should listen to. He’d advise me when I needed to pay attention.
“Commander, I’m going to have to insist that the containment room be used,” the Field agent said when Chernobog paused for breath. “We can move the body
for you, and do the work if you want.”
“I’ll let you move him, but you’re not doing the work,” Serene said, in her Commander Voice, which was a lot like Jeff’s and Reader’s in timbre.
The agents nodded and moved Maurer into the room, putting him flat on his back. This room was set up inside like an impromptu medical lab, too. Serene and Henry were able to go in, but Ravi couldn’t get the Bluetooth signal through the thick metal, so he stood outside the door and relayed instructions. Fortunately, there was plenty of light, so Henry was able to show his range and hand her implements while also holding bombs.
This was great in that, if Maurer exploded, most of the room would be protected. However, in order for Serene to hear anyone, the door was opened toward the rest of Hacker International, Chernobog, and a ton of equipment.
Tried not to wonder if this was worth it or not. Forced myself to believe that Serene would be able to get herself and Henry out, and the door closed, before everything blew up. Figured this was how Reader had felt about all of us for this entire day. Made a mental note to ask Pierre to send him a gift basket with chocolates and spa certificates should we all survive.
This train of thought wasn’t helping my mental state at all. So, while Serene, Chernobog, and the rest went back to work or kibitzing, depending, I went back to thinking and pretending I wasn’t watching a game of High-Stakes Operation.
We’d countered every move thrown against us so far. But the other side had also bounced back from our counterattacks. Whatever happened with Maurer, Cleary had already given us an out by saying that Maurer was quitting because he was ill, which seemed oddly wrong.
“What is it?” Jeff asked me in a low voice. “You’re worried, but not just about what Serene’s doing.”
“Well, if we, hopefully, don’t blow up, I’m indeed worried about other things.”
“About what?”
“About everything. Because it’s been too easy.”
CHAPTER 82
“EASY?” Jeff’s voice was still low, but he managed to get a lot of outraged surprise in there anyway. “You call all of what we’ve been through for the past, what, a little over a day easy?”
“Yeah, in a way.” Tried to figure out what felt so wrong to me. “It’s like they’re . . . testing. Nothing’s been coordinated, in that sense. Sure, they’ve hit us with one thing after another, but, last time, they’d guessed almost every move we’d make.”
“Last time they had Ronaldo mind-reading Gladys.”
“Yeah. But there’s more than that. I mean, they’ve announced that Maurer’s out of the race because of illness. If he blows up on us right now, or deactivates in some way, well, then we can call the President, tell him, and he’ll have his people make up a very believable lie. Heck, we could do it ourselves.” That was me, focused on the positive idea that if Maurer blew up we’d all be around to make casual calls to the President and such.
“We could also share that Maurer is an android with the entire world,” Jeff said dryly.
“Only if he’s not blown up. But say he survives essentially intact. Our sharing this news would panic the world, and they know we won’t do that unless we have to. And you know that if we show off one android, we have to be able to say ‘and these people made the android’ and we can’t do that right now, because we don’t know who’s carrying on Antony Marling’s heinous work. And the next question is ‘how many androids are there’ and we have no idea. So they give us this Get Out Of Jail Free Card to share, and if we take it, awesome for both sides.”
“That just seems like convenience for them they’ll generously share with us because, in the grand scheme, it doesn’t matter. So far, you’re not showing me that anything happening against us was actually easy. All I see is a lot of bad coming at us, from all sides.”
“But they seem so . . . scattered.”
“So? Sounds like the usual three or four plans acting against us at one time.”
“Yeah, but in the past, all actions against us were related. And I know they’re all related now. Somehow.” Considered past Operations. “You know, Operation Sherlock was all about Apprentice Tryouts. What if this is similar, but with different goals? Or a different form of competition?”
“I honestly have no guess, baby. Do you really think the Mastermind showed up personally at the Cleary campaign headquarters?” He ran his hand through his hair. “Because that means that Stephanie knows the Mastermind.”
“Well, her father knew the Mastermind, I guarantee it, so why not her? But no, I doubt the Mastermind was dropping by, though his Apprentice might have. Or, rather, one of the several people who think they’re the Apprentice. Despite my numbering system from earlier, Leventhal Reid pretty much confirmed that more than one person thought they were the New Apprentice. But Reid is the real Apprentice . . .”
“What? I can tell you just made some connection. Do you think Reid was who Jenkins heard?”
“Maybe, but that’s not what I’m thinking about. I’m thinking about what Reid said last year . . . and Stephanie. What if this isn’t about us so much as it’s about us cleaning house for the Mastermind?”
“What? How the hell do you get that from anything?”
Chuckie came over. “I heard you, and no, you weren’t talking that loudly, I’m just trained to listen very carefully. Kitty, go on with that idea.”
“Okay. Survival of the fittest.”
“What?” Jeff said. “Are you testing to see if one of us is an android?”
“No,” Chuckie said. “She means that the Mastermind is culling his herd.”
“Exactly. See who survives against us, they’re worthy to keep around. Whoever isn’t skilled or sneaky enough we kill or remove as a threat. If they destroy us, great, they move up in the hierarchy. But if they don’t, then us getting rid of them means we’ve culled a weak one and the side benefit is those who are left hate us that much more.”
“I can see that,” Chuckie said. “And that’s a long-game strategy, and that’s his style.”
“Where does Stephanie fit in?” Jeff asked.
“She’s someone primed to hate us who we’re all going to be loath to kill. She knows it, the Mastermind knows it.” And guaranteed she’d be Reid’s type. Heck, she was a Dazzler. She’d be anyone and everyone’s type, maybe even the Mastermind’s. “So Stephanie is valuable not only for what she can do but also as much as what she can get away with doing without recrimination.”
“You threatened to kill her,” Chuckie pointed out.
“But we all know she’ll have to be ready to kill one of you, or Jamie, Mom, Dad, someone I love, or be about to, you know, drop poison into the city’s water supply, before I actually do it.”
“I don’t think I can,” Jeff said quietly.
“If it were her or Jamie you could,” Chuckie said calmly. “But I know what you mean. Reid or LaRue I’d like to kill on sight. But Stephanie is different. And believe me, they all know it.”
“Sentimentality is the ultimate weakness.” Chernobog came over to us. “Serene is quite talented. We believe we have removed all the destruct sequences within the android. But you might want to be ready to run if we’re wrong when we turn him back on.”
While one Field agent recalibrated the floater gate, two more zipped off with a pan filled with circuits and the like. Hoped they were taking them to the middle of nowhere, but they were probably taking them back to Serene’s Bomb Shop so she could play with them at her leisure.
“Thanks.” Chose not to mention that I’d been ready to run this entire time. If I was coming across as calm, cool, and collected to Chernobog, so much the better. “May I ask you something? Well, probably more than one something.”
She shrugged. “Why not?”
“Do you know or have a guess as to who the Mastermind is, or who his Apprentice is or are, in case you know of more than one?”
“Someone in your government. Because I was hired via a government contract.”
L
et that sit on the air for a moment. “Which division?” Chuckie asked finally.
She shrugged. “Didn’t say and I didn’t care. There are many slush funds used by the Alphabet Agencies to get dirty work done. This request bounced through many different channels, but, ultimately, the buyer was from the U.S. government.”
“That’s why you were in Guantanamo, isn’t it? Whoever it is suggested you stay there.”
She shook her head. “No, I was already there. Whoever it was knew I was there. It was part of why I agreed to take the job—they had a line on where I was. But they met my price, so . . .” She shrugged again.
Ran through my list of potential suspects, which were people we’d met once we’d come to D.C. Anyone dead and not regenerated via clone or android was, of course, no longer suspect.
Cliff had been a target during Operation Sherlock, and Horn had been one now. Considering how close both had come to being blown to bits, that removed them from my list. Langston Whitmore remained at the top of this list, as did Gideon Cleary. Same with those running Gaultier Enterprises, Titan Security, and YatesCorp. And yet, none of them were our intimates, so how would they know our strategies and game plans?
Mom and Dad were out. Chuckie was the Mastermind’s ultimate target. Senator Armstrong had so much more to gain from being our friend that he seemed unlikely. The President already had power and the Vice President just wanted to play golf, so again, not really high on the list of possibilities.
Lillian Culver and Guy Gadoire both seemed more and more unlikely every day. The other lobbyists we worked with weren’t nearly as intimate with us. Vance could be the Mastermind. He was smart enough and hid it extremely well. But why the hate for Chuckie if that was the case?
Senator McMillan? Maybe. We all loved and respected him. He was a possibility, but one I couldn’t bring myself to believe. Maybe that meant the Mastermind was McMillan. Or Colonel Franklin, someone else we trusted and I couldn’t believe would be a bad guy or against us. Same with Captain Morgan. Hell, maybe it was my Uncle Mort.