by Anise Eden
“I’ll do my best,” Michael said, then looked one by one at each of the people seated around the table. “There are many loud thoughts, so I am not sure which person this is, but he is in his room, and he is betraying you. Right now he is worrying about his wife, Natalya, and his twin boys, and what will happen to them if he is found out.”
Very slowly, all of the Russians turned to look at someone seated toward the back of the room, a handsome man in his fifties who appeared shocked by the accusation. “That’s outrageous,” he said with a guffaw. “Ilya, surely you aren’t going to listen to the ramblings of this American boy.”
“That test was not for you, Anton,” Ilya told the man, his voice chilling. “That test was for Michael. I already suspected that you were feeding information to the Ukrainians, but I did not know for certain until now.”
Anton’s face reddened. “You are setting me up! You are afraid I will challenge your leadership, so you told this boy ahead of time what to say. This is all smoke and mirrors!”
“That is a fair challenge,” Ilya said. “Anton, think of a secret—something about you that no one in this room knows. You are so mentally undisciplined, I know that you won’t be able to resist my suggestion.” He smiled maliciously. “Michael, what is Anton thinking?”
Michael looked at Anton for a few moments, then spoke to Ilya. “He is thinking that his mother once told him that his father was not his biological father. He is the product of an affair his mother had. Anton kept her secret even after her death, because he feared being dropped from his father’s will.”
Anton stood and shook a fist at Michael. “That’s a lie! You blacken my name!”
Ilya nodded at two of the security team members, who took Anton by the arms. “This is easy enough to prove,” he said. “We will speak to your father. A paternity test will tell us whether your name is being blackened or exposed.” Ilya waved his fingers and the security team removed a struggling Anton from the room.
“Oh my god,” I heard myself whisper. I looked around the viewing room. Everyone looked as stricken as I felt, except for Ben and Pete, who remained intensely focused on the screen. The Russians were having mixed reactions. Some appeared upset, others nodded knowingly as though their beliefs had just been confirmed.
“Michael,” Ilya said, “an excellent job.”
“Thank you,” Michael replied, “although I’m sure you will feel even more secure in my abilities once you get the results of the paternity test.”
“Indeed,” Ilya agreed, “although now that I reflect on it, Anton never looked anything like either of his parents. Still, Skeet, we would like to get those results before we make a final decision about entering into a partnership with you—just to confirm. You understand.”
“Of course,” Skeet said. “That’s not a problem. But before we conclude, I do have one more thing to share with you.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket. “A message from one of our precogs—sensitives who can see the future. She asked me to share something that she saw about Opretec in a vision this morning.”
Ilya leaned forward, listening intently. “Please, do share.”
Skeet opened the paper and read. “She says that late tomorrow night, there will be a major tunnel collapse in your Chu-Sarysu uranium mine in Kazakhstan. Before the end of business tomorrow, you should evacuate the mine and close the entrance or there will be multiple fatalities, as well as a release of radiation.”
The conference room fell completely silent for a few moments. Everyone was looking at Ilya to see how he would respond to the precog’s prediction. Ilya narrowed his eyes at Skeet, then Liv, then Michael. Finally, he turned to the man sitting on his right and said, “Do it.”
There was an explosion of activity as everyone jumped up, presumably to get started following Ilya’s instructions. Opretec’s employees left the room briskly, leaving behind only Ilya and two of the security team members. Ilya went to the front of the room and took Skeet by the arm. Liv and Michael quietly slipped away, giving them some privacy. Ilya spoke into Skeet’s ear, so quietly that we could not hear. Skeet nodded a few times, then smiled and extended his hand, which Ilya shook.
The tech turned off the viewing screen and turned on the lights. There was a collective sigh as many of us released the breaths we’d been holding. As we began exchanging astounded looks, one of the waitresses from the dining room popped her head in the door. “Skeet and the others would like you to meet them in the living room next door,” she chirped.
I steeled myself, sensing that our already-interesting afternoon was about to get a lot more interesting.
Chapter Seventeen
We slowly filtered into the large living room. It felt a little bit like a cushy cave. The walls were covered with dark wood panels and wine-colored brocade fabric, and there was a rich, forest-green carpet. The pleasantly sweet smell of cigars hung in the air. We arranged the soft leather club chairs and love seats around a few antique coffee tables.
Skeet, Liv, and Michael arrived at around the same time as a server wheeled in a beverage cart. Skeet’s smile was triumphant. He waited patiently for us all to get settled with our drinks, then pulled up a chair and sat on its edge, facing us. “Well, MacGregor Group, I hope you enjoyed our demonstration!”
We dutifully smiled and nodded. We had decided ahead of time that no matter what happened in the demonstration, we would act impressed and agreeable in the hopes of encouraging Skeet to be more open about his activities.
“Allow me to give you some context,” Skeet said, leaning back in his chair. “As I’m sure you gathered, the Russians represent a company called Opretec Corporation. They found out about Team Forward by way of their connections with Congressman Tucker, who is also visiting this week. They’ve been involved in some international development projects together. But as you know, there is a lot of uncertainty in the world today, particularly after the recent global economic collapse. Like many companies, Opretec Corp. is trying to find ways to position themselves optimally for whatever might come down the pike.”
The waitress brought Skeet a whiskey on the rocks. Skeet took a sip. “Ah. Thanks. So as you now know, one of the things they mine is uranium. But we have a precious resource here, as well—Team Forward.” He gestured Michael and Liv, who beamed. “We have developed a unique business model, using paranormal gifts to provide information to our clients that will help give them an edge in the international marketplace. In turn, they provide us with a percentage of their profits.”
Skeet took another sip of whiskey and scanned our faces for reactions. Vani jumped in first. “That is so creative!” she cooed. “You’ve found a way to monetize paranormal gifts in the modern global economy.”
“Exactly!” Skeet glowed in the light of Vani’s understanding and apparent approval. “And our income is used for other purposes, in addition to developing the Team Forward business. We maintain and keep expanding Mercier’s property; we donate generously to the paranormal research projects at NIMH; and of course, we’re able to make the lives of our sensitives much more comfortable than they would otherwise be.”
Liv nodded. “Which is a welcome change. As you all know, we’re so often mocked or distrusted by society in general. And I had a decent job before I joined Team Forward, but I never could have made this kind of money as an accountant.”
“And why shouldn’t we build some security for ourselves by using our gifts?” Michael chimed in. “We have special abilities, and they come with special risks. We should be compensated accordingly.”
Eve raised her hand. “Wait, so—what Team Forward does, it doesn’t have anything to do with healing?”
Skeet put his whiskey glass on a table and pointed at Eve. “A very astute observation. Michael, Liv—Eve here is a talented acupuncturist, so naturally, healing is her main focus. Eve, we are committed to healing, as well, but we’ve decided to separate that from our commercial enterprise. At NIMH, most of our research is about healing. Through Te
am Forward’s work at Mercier, though, we give sensitives an opportunity to secure their financial future. Now more than ever, we have to use every advantage we can to take care of ourselves and each other.”
“Sure, that makes sense,” Pete drawled. “I can see the attraction for the sensitives. But how do your clients know you’re not turnin’ around and sellin’ information to their competition?”
“Another excellent question,” Skeet said, appearing pleased that we were so engaged in the discussion. “We sign noncompete clauses with each contract, of course. But each time we deliver some information, the clients put their payments into escrow accounts. If the information proves useful within the relevant time frame, the money is released to us. If not, the client would get a refund—if that were ever needed, that is. So far, all of the information we’ve provided has been right on the money, so to speak.”
Ben leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “With such an impressive track record, Skeet, Team Forward must be growing.”
“At a healthy rate, yes,” Skeet acknowledged.
“And do you have any competition?” Ben asked. “Are there other groups like this one?”
“Well, as I mentioned,” Skeet said, “we’ve been recruiting the most talented sensitives from around the world for decades to come and work at NIMH. We have eyes and ears everywhere, telling us when new talent is emerging, and we work hard to tempt them to come to Washington—to consolidate the talent, you could say. Others may try to form groups like ours, but we’re so far ahead of the game, we don’t think we’ll ever have any real competition.”
“Impressive,” Ben said. “I can see why you’re keen to crack the mystery of the double kheir, as well. If it operates as some people believe it does, not only would you be able to increase your output dramatically, but you’d be light-years ahead of any potential competition—untouchable.”
“Absolutely—if, as you say, it operates as expected. In fact, I’d like to talk to you more about that. I have a follow-up meeting with Ilya in just a few minutes here, but perhaps tomorrow would be a good time.”
Ben nodded. “I look forward to it.”
“Before I go,” Skeet said, drawing an arc with his hand, taking in the room, “any other questions? Overall impressions?”
As we had planned, all of the MacGregor Group members smiled and made approving noises. But we all knew that what Skeet really wanted was Ben’s response.
Eventually, Ben said, “I agree with Vani. It’s a very creative idea, and the demonstration was impressive.”
Michael and Liv exchanged satisfied smiles, but Skeet’s reaction was more measured. He pressed his lips together and nodded. “I’m glad you think so.”
“I have one last question,” Asa ventured. “What’s going to happen to Anton?”
The silence that fell over the room told me everyone had been wondering the same thing. “I sense your concern and respect it,” Skeet said, “but whatever happens to Anton is not our business—and not our doing. As Ilya said, they knew ahead of time that he was a corporate spy. It’s up to Opretec and the Russian legal system to deal with that situation.”
“Every business has to deal with ethical concerns,” Ben said thoughtfully. “But it does appear that the way you’ve arranged things, Skeet, it’s a three-way win—for the owners here, for your clients, and—most importantly, of course—for the members of Team Forward.”
While his words were positive, it was clear from Ben’s tone that he was still holding back his full approval. Skeet seemed satisfied for the moment, however. “Indeed,” he said, standing and extending his hand to Ben, who in turn stood and shook it. “I’m glad you see it that way. Until we meet again, everyone relax and enjoy yourselves. Excellent work, Michael and Liv!”
The rest of us seconded that sentiment, and the debriefing transformed into a cocktail hour. On his way out the door, Skeet asked if he could talk to me in the hallway—and since Ben was standing right next to me, I asked if he could join us. Skeet didn’t object.
Once we were outside of the room, Skeet laid a hand on my shoulder and gave me a warm, paternal smile. “Cate, a couple of the other owners are here visiting this week, and we were hoping that you could join us tonight for a dinner cruise on the Bay. Congressman Tucker has plenty of room on his yacht, and it would be a good opportunity for you to meet people who were friends of your father’s.”
His invitation shot straight to the pit of my stomach and sat there like a cube of ice. The last thing I wanted to do was to spend an evening with Mercier’s shady owners. On the other hand, we were there to gather information, and a dinner cruise might be the perfect opportunity to learn things we couldn’t otherwise.
Ben laid his hand gently on the small of my back, and I felt instantly reassured. I wouldn’t be alone—or would I? “That sounds lovely,” I said tentatively. “You’re free, aren’t you, Ben?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Skeet said. “I should have made it clear—the cruise is only for owners and their families, although no family members are here this week that I know of. It’s for privacy reasons. I’m sure you understand, Ben.”
A bolt of panic shot through me. There was no way on God’s earth I was going out to that aquatic pit of vipers alone. Fortunately, my anxiety led to a sudden inspiration. I gave Skeet a shy smile, slid my arm around Ben’s waist, and asked, “Do fiancés count?”
Skeet and Ben both looked at me with equal degrees of shock, then looked at each other. “Ben, you look more surprised than I am!” Skeet said.
Ben recovered quickly and kissed the top of my head. “I am, a bit. Cate said she wanted to tell Ardis before anyone else.”
“Wait a minute,” Skeet said. “You weren’t engaged last week, were you? When did this happen?”
“Friday night,” I said dreamily, “on the way home from that lovely banquet you hosted for us.”
Skeet looked perplexed. “But didn’t you just meet a few weeks ago?”
“It’s true, we haven’t known each other long,” I admitted, stepping closer to Ben and sheltering myself in his arms. “But when something’s right…” I leaned my head up to look lovingly at Ben, even batting my eyelashes a few times.
“You just know,” Ben said, the picture of charm. “We figured, why wait?”
“Well, then!” Skeet smiled indulgently. “I think you make a wonderful couple. I told Cate as much last week, didn’t I, Cate?”
I grinned like a fool and nodded.
“Oh no!” Suddenly dismayed, Skeet slapped his forehead. “You were probably planning to tell Ardis last Saturday, weren’t you? But I was there, ruining the moment.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it!” I reassured. “I’ll tell her next weekend. We were planning on stopping by her house before going back to Baltimore.”
I was a little alarmed by how fluidly I was able to fabricate lies, but Ben kept up beautifully. “That’s right. But if you wouldn’t mind just keeping it between us for now…” He cocked his head back toward the living room.
Skeet nodded solemnly. “Oh, of course. Mum’s the word. Well, a quiet congratulations, anyway! And yes, of course fiancés count. Ben, you’re welcome to join us on the yacht. I’m sure the other owners will be anxious to meet you.”
Anxious is right, I thought, remembering the conversation I’d overheard between Tucker and Hencock. They already had their eyes on Ben and me, and were trying to gauge us both. But I just kept a crazy-in-love smile on my face.
“Thanks so much,” Ben said. “I’d like to meet them, as well.”
“It’s settled, then.” But Skeet looked a bit unsettled. “As I mentioned, I have some things to take care of. You two go back in and enjoy yourselves. We’ll meet a smaller boat at the dock around four thirty. It’ll take us out to the yacht.”
I felt a twinge of nerves. I’d never been on anything even close to a yacht before. “Um, is there a dress code?”
Skeet waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry abo
ut it. We usually wear business attire to these dinners, but everyone knows you didn’t come out here expecting to attend any special events. Wear whatever’s comfortable.”
“Okay,” I said, already thinking about begging a dress from Vani. “Thanks again for the invitation.” I grabbed Ben’s hand. “We’re looking forward to it!”
“So am I. See you soon!” Skeet walked off down the hallway.
Ben and I just stood there for a moment, perfectly still. He still had his hand on my back, I was still leaning into him, and we were still holding hands. In the silence, I reviewed the implications of what I’d just done. Guilt pricked at me for having acted so impulsively without first considering Ben’s feelings. I cleared my throat. Staring down at our hands, I said, “Ben, I’m sorry—”
“Sorry? For what?” he murmured, twining our fingers together. “That was some quick thinking. This dinner is bound to be highly educational, but there is no way you could go out there by yourself.”
“Well, that’s what I was thinking. But engagement, commitment—I know they’re not things either of us take lightly. It’s just the first thing I thought of…”
“Please stop apologizing.” Ben placed his finger under my chin and tilted my face up until our eyes met. “It was a brilliant solution. I have to admit, though, I was surprised by how naturally you took to the idea of our engagement—like a duck to water.”
I conjured up my best deadeye stare.
He grinned roguishly. “Maybe we should think of this as a practice run. Speaking of which, there’s a jewelry store in St. Michaels where my mother is a regular customer, and she’s very picky. We could go look at rings this week.”
I flattened my palm against his chest and shoved. “Very funny.”
Ben pulled back, but only slightly. “Hey, and we should talk to Kai and Pete about that double wedding idea.”
That was a step too far. It was one thing for us to pretend we were engaged for the owners, but I didn’t want to get anyone else involved, even as part of the subterfuge. They might get their hopes up, and who knew where that would lead. Besides, according to the lie we’d told Skeet, none of them were supposed to know. I tilted my head back and opened my mouth to object, but Ben mirrored me, opening his own mouth ever so slightly—sensually, as though he thought I had been coming in for a kiss. But I could tell he knew I had been gearing up to speak, not lock lips. His eyes darkened, holding my gaze for a few beats before flickering over my mouth, my cheeks, my neck… The air between us crackled like lit kindling.