Buchanan nodded. “I feel that I’d believed him, so that could mean he’d given me the proof necessary to show we had a Mastermind working.”
“Also helpful,” Gower said. “Because we can stop wondering if we don’t. Not,” he added dryly, “that we’ve spent much time worrying about not having one.”
“True enough. I also have an image of a door closing. It’s a door that’s familiar, but I don’t know why.”
“Could it be one of your safe houses?” Chuckie asked.
“Could be, but I think I’d recognize the door more if it was. And I don’t.”
“We checked your safe houses already,” Christopher mentioned.
“And I checked the ones I didn’t tell you about,” Buchanan said with a grin. “He’s not at any of them.”
“Maybe he’s at his.” Everyone in the room stared at me. “Oh, come on! Hamlin was in hiding for over a year when he came to me. He hadn’t left the country, because if he had, why come back to ask me for help? How would he know what was going on, as much as he did, if he was elsewhere? He wants to find and stop the Mastermind, or else he wouldn’t have come to us. So, he’s here, somewhere in or around the D.C. area, hiding out, keeping an eye on things.”
“Why would he take someone else to a safe house?” Gower asked. “That seems dangerous, especially if he’s trying to hide.”
“He didn’t take a ‘someone,’ he took Malcolm. I’d bet because he had the information there and Malcolm would be someone who he’d be likely to trust.” I’d told Hamlin to trust Buchanan, point of fact. “And Malcolm would want to make sure Hamlin was somewhere safe, right?” Buchanan nodded. “So, Hamlin refuses to hide out at one of Malcolm’s safe houses, probably just in case. Hamlin, like Malcolm, has to have more than one safe house or he’d have been killed before we ever met him. So, Malcolm takes Hamlin to one of Hamlin’s safe houses.”
“But that means we have no way of really knowing if Hamlin’s still alive,” Raj said. “Someone was following Mister Buchanan. It seems a safe bet that they followed him to this safe house.”
“Not if it was close.” Closed my eyes and did a timeline. “Let’s say that Hamlin’s hiding out somewhere very close to us. I mean, he walked to our Embassy, didn’t he? No one ever saw a car or a cab, so that means he walked.”
“I’d agree,” Raj said. “I was the one who answered the door, and I saw no vehicle with him or pulling away.”
“Okay. So, he and Malcolm drive off to see the proof.” Opened my eyes. “If they drove, they didn’t leave the Embassy via the front door or the Tunnels of Doom. They left through the parking garage.”
Buchanan nodded. “I definitely parked inside the Embassy on the night of the party.”
Decided not to mention that this insight of mine would have been better had it come to me six months ago. Better late than never, right? Chose to forge on lest someone, Christopher most likely, point this out.
“So, they drive off, and Hamlin’s safe house is close. Malcolm does the ‘be sure we’re not followed’ thing, gets the proof he needs, and leaves Hamlin in safety, probably with the promise to come back to take care of things. Maybe to contact him the next day, even.”
“Then what?” Christopher asked. “Oh, and the whole car thing would have been more helpful six months ago.”
“I hate you sometimes. Just want that on record.” Christopher smirked. Decided I preferred him glaring. Chose not to share this. “So, anyway, then Malcolm does . . . what? Comes back to the party?”
“No,” Buchanan said slowly. “I’d go to prove whatever Hamlin showed me.”
“I found him unconscious in the tunnels under Gaultier Research,” Christopher said. “We assumed this before and I think it’s still a good assumption now—I think you headed there.”
“Maybe.” Buchanan sounded doubtful. “I don’t know that the timeline would have worked out.”
“We’ve never recovered your car, and the P.T.C.U., C.I.A., and several other agencies were quite determined to find it. So maybe you went elsewhere, and that’s where your car is or was, and where Clarence hit you.”
Raj cleared his throat. “Ah, if I may, what if Mister Buchanan headed to Titan?” Everyone in the room’s turn to stare at Raj. He smiled. The full room’s attention didn’t seem to be a bother for a troubadour. “It would make sense from a timeline perspective, and also logic. We all know Titan is rebuilding. Per Mister Buchanan, they’re supporting Club Fifty-One. Colonel Hamlin had identified that Titan had actions running against us. Maybe he’d identified more, and Mister Buchanan went to check those out.”
“So they dumped me under Gaultier to, what, throw the blame onto them?”
“Seems possible to me,” White said. “Precedent exists for actions like that.”
“Or they’re working together and decided the Gaultier tunnel section was easier to hide you in. Or they wanted you found. These companies were in bed with each other before; it’s not a shocker that they’d be in bed again. And based on my morning, the five heads are tight, so I think it’s a good bet it was a joint action.”
“I agree,” Chuckie said. “And it makes logical sense. So, we know what Horn wants, and it’s now coinciding with what we want. So what do we want to tell him when we go back to the main meeting?”
“Nothing about Hamlin or Malcolm. In fact, I’d like to tell him nothing at all about this meeting. Of course, that means that Chuckie and I will tell whatever lie we come up with and the rest of you will smile and nod.”
For the most part, A-Cs couldn’t lie to save their or anyone else’s lives. There were exceptions to the rule. White and Raj were both pretty good in the short term, as were a few others on staff. The best liar in the A-C community I knew of was Camilla, who was undercover at Gaultier right now, under Chuckie’s orders and direction.
Chuckie shook his head slowly. “I’d like to mention the Club Fifty-One activities, if only to see how Horn reacts. However, I realize that would mean we’d have to tell him all about your morning and explain how we got word of the rest of it, and that we want to avoid.”
“Why not say that one of our personnel was ill?” Tito asked.
“Why did I need every guy in the room with me who wasn’t a politician?”
“I’m a politician,” Jeff said morosely.
“You’re special.”
“Yeah, thanks, baby. Why don’t we just say we were called away on official Centaurion business, smile, nod, and go on with our meeting?”
We all looked at him. “Um, will that work?” I asked finally.
Jeff shrugged. “As I’ve had the ‘pleasure’ of learning, it works on Capitol Hill every damn day.”
White and Gower both nodded. “I have no issue with that story,” Gower said. “Especially since it’s true.”
“Then it’s settled. Malcolm gets to hang out with Tito and we get to go back and play mind games with the F.B.I. Today’s just continuing to get better and better every hour, isn’t it?”
Gower chuckled. “Yeah, Kitty. Routine.”
CHAPTER 13
HAPPILY, Jeff was proven right and the “private meeting, it’s all good” explanation was accepted without argument.
We got back to the issue at hand, which was how to find out what Gaultier, Titan, and YatesCorp were up to, beyond the presumed assumption, based on a lot of precedent, that said “horrible evil.”
“We have an agent infiltrating within Gaultier,” Chuckie shared. “However, I won’t share that operative’s information with you, Vander, for a variety of reasons.”
“No argument,” Horn said, looking like he’d like to argue but already knew he’d lose. “Do you have anyone in YatesCorp or Titan?”
Chuckie shook his head. “Titan’s involvement with the assassination attempt at last year’s President’s Ball meant we had full access into the company. However, the E-T Division was removed from control, and I was told to leave Titan alone.”
“And you did?” I found th
is hard to believe.
Chuckie shrugged. “The order came from up high. There are times to do what you’re told, and this was one of them.”
“Does that mean we need to look into whoever gave you that order?” Horn asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” Chuckie replied. “Angela’s aware, and she may have someone on it already. The P.T.C.U. didn’t relinquish jurisdiction on Titan, since they posed a terrorist threat. They also coordinated with Homeland Security, which turned it over to the Department of Defense. Bottom line is that I stopped worrying about it because the right agencies and divisions were working together.”
“What about YatesCorp?” Nathalie asked. “Is anyone there?”
“Not from the F.B.I.’s side,” Horn said.
“None that I know of from the C.I.A., either,” Chuckie said. “We were all told to back off a long time ago.” He shot me a look that said to shut up and not ask the question I wanted to.
So I didn’t ask him why he’d obeyed that command. Because his look told me that Chuckie had indeed ignored it. However, he didn’t want to share that with present company, and I was in agreement with that mindset.
“Amos Tobin is the new guy in charge,” Amy said. “Though it took forever for him to get appointed.”
“The Board of Directors did take their time,” Horn agreed. “However, I believe it’s because there’s an unusual stipulation within the incorporation documents, and in light of your fight to reclaim Gaultier Enterprises, I believe it’s relevant. If a blood relative of Ronald Yates is found, and proven to be a blood relative, that person can assume a seat on the Board at any time, with full membership and voting rights, and with a salary commensurate with the rest of the Board. There’s no limit to the number of blood relatives who can do this, by the way.”
Didn’t look to see which of our A-Cs were clearly showing they were Yates blood relatives. Figured at least three of them were. Instead I focused on Horn. “How many have stepped forward?”
“None so far,” Horn said. “Ronaldo Al Dejahl had sent a letter to the Board of Directors two years ago. However, he wasn’t confirmed as a blood relative before he, ah, disappeared.”
“And just how do you know this, Vander? I’m asking because you seem to know a whole lot about these things, and I’m wondering how long you’ve been digging into these corporations before you came by for this informal little stress fest.”
Horn smiled at me. “I was in our White Collar division before I moved over to Alien Activities. I know a great deal about most of the Fortune Five Hundred.”
“Has the Board searched for any Yates relatives?” Amy asked.
“No.” Horn chuckled. “YatesCorp isn’t in any hurry to bring on some untried Yates relative just for the thrill of them throwing a wrench into the smooth working of a multinational conglomerate.”
Ronald Yates had made Hugh Hefner look like a choirboy. We already knew of two illegitimate children—Ronaldo Al Dejahl and Serene Dwyer. Both of them were the younger siblings of White, and therefore of Jeff’s mother, Lucinda, and Gladys “Scary Chief of Security” Gower. Jeff and Christopher were therefore Yates’ grandsons. And Jamie and Patrick were his first official great-grandchildren.
Within the A-C community alone we had enough people to take over any Board. But the A-Cs weren’t the problem. The rest of Yates’ illegitimate children out there were the problem, because they’d be hybrids, and likely powerful hybrids, or full blood A-Cs, also likely to be supremely talented. And we had no idea how many there were, where they might be, or if they were already on the side of evil or not.
“Yet they’ve publicized the Relative’s Clause in the incorporation documents?” Raj asked.
Horn shook his head. “No. I only know about that because I was digging into YatesCorp when they were making their decision on Amos.”
Interesting. Horn was on a first name basis with Tobin. Hoped that didn’t bode badly for us, but since I was now supposedly on a first name basis with all the Land Sharks, I wasn’t one to judge too harshly.
“How long have you known about this clause?” Chuckie asked.
“Not too long.” Horn shrugged. “I didn’t really think it would be too relevant to Centaurion.” Either he didn’t know who Ronald Yates had really been to the A-Cs, or else Horn was lying like a wet rug. Had no bet either way. Chuckie didn’t look happy, though, and half of the room looked uncomfortable.
“So, what’s the situation on the Hill?” Raj asked, smoothly changing the subject. “Is there positive reaction to the news of this new F.B.I. division?”
As the conversation shifted, I wondered if Raj and Chuckie practiced handling issues in meetings or if Raj was just that good. Bet on just that good.
Unhappily, the conversational shift meant the meeting continued on, only focused on what was going on at Capitol Hill. It was the usual political blah, blah, blah now that Horn was assumed to be on our side. None of it was that specific to American Centaurion or our interests, and I was bored out of my non-policy-loving mind within minutes.
Fortunately, just before my eyelids closed and my head hit the table, my phone rang.
I stepped away as fast as possible to take the call. It wasn’t from a number programmed into my phone, but at least this number wasn’t blocked, so maybe that meant whoever was calling wasn’t about to threaten me. “Hello?”
“Chief?” a voice whispered.
“Walter?” I whispered back. “Why aren’t you calling me using your Embassy cell?”
“Chief, we’re in trouble. Big trouble. We need hel—” And with that, the phone went dead.
CHAPTER 14
NOTHING LIKE A CALL FOR HELP that’s cut off mid-word to wake me right up. However, I didn’t want to share the news that Walter might be in trouble with half of the room’s occupants.
On the other hand, I wanted the other half activated. Then again, Jeff had to go back to Capitol Hill, and congressmen weren’t supposed to go into action. And then again, I had support elsewhere in the building.
“Would you all excuse me a minute?” I asked. “Minor household emergency.”
Jeff shot me a look that said he didn’t believe it. “Let me know before you go out, baby. Chuck, too.”
Dang, he’d done the old emotional and mind reading thing. Well, probably for the best. “Will do. Nice seeing everyone.” With that I headed for the infirmary.
I was distracted, so used human speed. I called Walter’s Embassy cell phone on the way. “This is Walter Ward of the American Centaurion Embassy. I’m unable to take your call at this time. Please leave a message and I’ll return your call as soon as possible.”
So much for that. Decided that I got bawled out a lot for not calling Alpha Team, so I called Reader. “You’ve reached James Reader. I’m unavailable.” Wow, Reader’s voicemail sure had changed from the good old days.
Tim was next, and after the last couple of calls, I expected what I got. “This is Tim Crawford. I’m busy fighting crime and saving the day, so can’t take your call at this time. Leave a message and I’ll call you back when I have some breathing room.”
Gave it a try with Kevin. “This is Kevin Lewis. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.” Apparently he and Reader weren’t big on chatty voicemail recordings these days.
I reached the infirmary while listening to Lorraine and Claudia’s perky cell phone messages. Per Nurse Carter, Buchanan was still here, just finishing up. No worries, I had Serene to call. “This is Serene Dwyer. I’m so sorry I’ve missed your call. Please leave your name, number, a detailed message, and I’ll get back to you just as soon as possible.”
I was about to try the flyboys when Buchanan and Tito came out. “What’s up, Missus Chief? You look tense.”
“I am. Walter just called me from an anonymous number to tell me he was in trouble. Or rather, ‘we’ were in trouble. I’ve called everyone on Alpha Team, other than Paul, who’s here, and all their phones went to voicemail. I’m officially worried.�
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Tito and Nurse Carter looked at each other. They both pulled out their phones. “I’ll call Dulce, you call Airborne?” Nurse Carter said.
“Yep.” Tito looked at me. “Call Home Base.”
It was nice to work with people who didn’t question when the weird or scary started, and instead began handling it immediately. Buchanan pulled out his phone while I tried calling Nellis Air Force Base, better known to the rest of the world as Area 51.
“No answer,” I said, at the same time Tito and Nurse Carter said the same. They both dialed again.
Buchanan grunted at his call. “You’re sure? Okay. Thank you.” He hung up. “I just checked with the Pentagon. They show no disturbances of any kind at or near either the Dulce Science Center or Home Base.”
“Well, no one’s answering their phones.” Sent a group text to everyone we were trying to reach, flyboys included. “Alpha and Airborne, maybe they’re busy. Perhaps Dulce’s in lockdown. But Nellis Air Force Base should be answering their phones or the Pentagon should know the reason why.”
Nurse Carter shook her head. “I’ve tried at least a dozen numbers at Dulce. The Medical Center isn’t answering, nor are any of the different research sections.”
“Interesting,” Tito said to whomever he’d actually reached. “Yes, please monitor and let us know if you find anything. Thanks.” He hung up. “I just called Alfred. NASA Base doesn’t show anything as being wrong in Dulce or Home Base. And, neither he nor I know if this is relevant, but Brian called out today, so he’s not at NASA Base, and Alfred thinks he was home, in the Science Center.”
“Where’s Michael Gower?” If one of the astronauts closely associated with Centaurion Division wasn’t where he should be, I wanted to check on the other one.
Tito grimaced. “He called out too, and he’s supposedly with Brian.”
“Fantastic. Naomi and Abigail went over there earlier, too.” Sent texts to both of them. No response came back.
“Excuse me, Ambassador,” William’s voice came on the com. “Representative Martini is asking for the four of you to join him in the kitchen and to tell you that the outsiders are gone.”
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