“Who was running the gate for them?” Christopher asked.
Jeremy grimaced. “Gladys. She was fully controlled. We’re lucky she was, though, because if she hadn’t been fully under she might have noticed that we weren’t complying like everyone else.”
“So her talents weren’t really working when she was under control?” Jeff asked.
“As far as we know, no,” Walter said. “Once Al Dejahl and the hostages left we decided the three of us weren’t enough to fight everyone else, and we didn’t have any idea where Alpha or Airborne were. So we decided it was wisest to follow Al Dejahl.”
“That was the easy part,” Jennifer added. “The gate was calibrated for Home Base, so we waited a few minutes and followed.”
“They weren’t there, of course,” Walter said.
“No, but you figured out where they’d gone.”
“It wasn’t easy, because they’d taken a floater gate,” Jennifer said. “But Walter figured it out. It was pretty amazing.”
“I ran gates at Dulce before I was assigned to the Embassy. All the gates at Home Base were calibrated for the Science Center, meaning they hadn’t used any of them.”
“I get how you’d tell they used a floater, but not how to follow it.” Clearly Walter was being underutilized here at the Embassy. Considered giving him over to Alpha. Decided I was going to be selfish and keep him with me.
He looked a little bashful. “There’s a way to determine trace patterns and cross-reference against prior transfers and I did it, that’s all. It’s a good skill, but I’m not the only one who knows how to apply it.”
“We’d have never found them without Walter,” Jeremy said. “Because Al Dejahl wasn’t anywhere close by.”
“We figured he wasn’t within fifty miles of the Science Center because Serene couldn’t find any of the hostages.”
“They weren’t,” Walter confirmed. “They came back here, to Washington. Right outside the Lincoln Memorial.”
“How interesting. Al Dejahl really likes his own version of the classics, doesn’t he? I assume they weren’t in or around the Memorial, though.”
“No. The gate let them out in some foliage on the side. We found the tunnel entrance and followed it down. We found some recent tire tracks and followed them,” Walter said. “Determining where the floater had been set for took a long time. Too long,” he added, looking down.
“Stop blaming yourself,” Jeff said gently. “You did more than anyone on Alpha or Airborne could have, and you did it under extreme duress.”
“We could have contacted the Dome,” Jeremy said, “but we really weren’t sure how far the infiltration went and if we’d called and they’d taken the Dome already, any hope we’d have of rescuing anyone would be gone.”
“That was, absolutely, the right thing to do,” Jeff said firmly. “And I’m saying that as the former Head of Field. The three of you did everything we could have hoped for and more. I realize everyone wants to blame themselves, but the three of you, more than anyone else, are completely blameless of anything other than saving six lives.”
Our little Gang of Three looked a little bit perkier than they had before. Jeff was really such a good, natural leader.
He turned to Brian. “Did you see anything?”
Brian shook his head. “We were blindfolded at Home Base. So I have no idea what anything looked like before we were chained up. We definitely went through all at once when we did the next gate transfer, though. And we traveled the last part in what felt like a Jeep, so that corroborates what Walter and the others have said.”
“Were they in one of the dead zone rooms?” Jeff asked Walter. Walter and the Barones all shook their head.
“But they were in a room,” Christopher said. “We all saw the room on camera.”
Jennifer nodded. “They were. It’s new, built since the last time we were down there. I’m guessing it was constructed very recently.”
“Within the last few days recently,” Jeremy added. “Maybe less.”
“More good news. So, where were they?” I asked.
“In the same general area where Mister Buchanan’s body was found when he was hit with that suspended animation drug,” Walter replied. “In the tunnels, underneath Gaultier Enterprises.”
CHAPTER 46
LET THAT SIT ON THE AIR for a bit. “It so figures.”
“I cannot wait to take over that company and clean house,” Amy said. “Literally and figuratively.”
Was going to say something else when Tim’s phone rang. He answered and blanched white. Knew whatever was going on wasn’t going to be good.
“I see,” Tim said finally. “Do we need to send a team? Okay, keep me posted. Any detail, no matter how small. And . . . send our condolences, please.” Tim hung up, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “The prisoners have escaped.”
My stomach clenched. “Were they already at Guantanamo?” Because if they were, then that meant that Dad and Buchanan were in danger.
“No. Still on their way.” My stomach relaxed a little. Tim closed his eyes. “They were in a military jet, because your Uncle Mort didn’t want them to risk a gate, in case of tampering.”
My stomach reclenched. “Is Uncle Mort . . . ?”
“No.” Tim opened his eyes. “He came back with Brian and the other hostages, to protect them. Thank God. Because the jet was attacked in the air. No one knows by what yet, but it didn’t appear to be another aircraft. Prisoners were removed. The pilot was good, but it’s hard to land a plane safely when there’s a huge hole in it. They haven’t found all the bodies yet, but all personnel on board are presumed dead.”
“Where?” Jeff asked.
“Over the Caribbean Sea. I guess Al Dejahl wanted to save his brother.” Tim shrugged. “The copilot was able to share what happened, at least somewhat. The reports aren’t clear. It sounds like a Marine went nuts and started shooting before the plane was attacked externally, but with all personnel lost, they’ll have to recover the black box, and that could take weeks.”
Realized that I had to stop blaming myself for Michael and Fuzzball’s deaths, at least for the moment, and really think. This meant I needed to run my mouth. Oh well, surely the gang was used to this by now.
“So it’s clear why they did a strike—Dier is a highly trained assassin, and, with Raul and Bernie both dead, the only assassin out there who’s likely to work for Al Dejahl for the Personal Vendetta of the Thing reasons.”
“How can you feel confident of that?” Jeff asked.
“I have no real confirmation, but since the two best assassins in the business have essentially adopted me as their niece, it seems unlikely that too many of their brethren are going to take hits on me and mine. Not that it can’t happen, just seems unlikely.”
“I’d agree with the Ambassador’s assessment,” Raj said. “I’ve had feelers out since the end of the last operation. If there are hits assigned to our personnel, they haven’t made the standard channels.”
“I agree as well,” Oliver said. “I have informants all over the world, and they all know of my deep interest in Centaurion Division and all its many people. Your ‘uncles’ seem to have put a moratorium on you and yours. For which we should all be grateful.”
“Can’t speak for anyone else, but I’m grateful. So, the likelihood is that Dier is by now completely one with the Al Dejahl Cause. A well-trained human like that would be a hard loss to him and his plans, whatever they may be. I can get why she was rescued. But why do it in a big, showy way? Why not simply save them before they were in the air? Unless . . .” Unless we were forgetting something really important. Like the fact that good old Ronaldo had more than the ability to control minds.
“Unless what?” Jeff asked patiently.
“Unless the Swarthy Slapper isn’t Al Dejahl’s brother.” Everyone stared at me. Fortunately, or not, depending on how you looked at it, Chuckie and Reader came in as I said this.
“I just updated our sta
tus for Cliff, Vander, and anyone else who demanded it,” Chuckie said. He sounded exhausted and he and Reader both looked exhausted. “Did I leave out anything they’ll need to know immediately?”
Tim brought them up to speed on the latest suckage, then everyone turned back to me. “Explain what you mean, please, about Al Dejahl siblings,” Chuckie said.
“I don’t think there is a brother, at least not that was working the camera with the hostages. I think the Swarthy Slapper was Ronaldo Al Dejahl. Where did he go otherwise? Walter and his team didn’t see some guy lurking in the tunnel outside the new room underneath Gaultier.”
“No, we didn’t,” Walter confirmed. “And we were expecting an ambush.”
“We did see the cages,” Jennifer pointed to the one that had trapped Fuzzball. “They were all over the area near the room. But they didn’t do anything when we were near them.”
“The Marines told us they found no one else in the tunnels,” Jeremy added.
“What happened to the rest of the cages?” Serene asked.
Jeremy shook his head. “I don’t know. My guess would be that that Marines collected them, but it’s only a guess.”
“We need to find that out,” Reader said to Tim, who nodded and sent a text. “Go back to thinking out loud, Kitty.”
“Will do. So, Ronaldo was doing his imageer thing where he changed to look like the Swarthy Slapper. And he’s a troubadour, so that means if he wanted them to believe he was the loser half brother, everyone would.”
Raj nodded. “It’s one of the effects of troubadour talent.”
“The theory’s possible,” Chuckie said. “But why?”
“To keep an eye on Dier when she didn’t know he was there. To determine her loyalty and to see what she would or wouldn’t do if he wasn’t right there to stop her or give her orders.”
“Maybe not,” Tim said. “She could have been in the know. He might have thought they’d get more out of the hostages if they thought Al Dejahl wasn’t in the room.”
“Why not just mind control everyone then?” Brian asked.
“He didn’t need to. Gladys is susceptible to his powers. He let her go, so that you’d all ‘know’ he wasn’t around. He could always get her back, right? And, if the Marines hadn’t arrived when they did, what Gladys would have done after the camera was turned off was to release the prisoners and probably kill Walter, Jennifer, and Jeremy.”
“I don’t know,” Reader said slowly. “It seems like you’re reaching, Kitty.”
“It makes sense to me,” Tim said.
“I’ve missed you, Megalomaniac Lad.”
“Tim and Kitty voting for it doesn’t mean it’s the right answer,” Christopher said.
“When isn’t it?” Jerry asked. The other flyboys nodded. Nice to see Airborne continued to support their leaders, both current and former.
“Seriously,” Lorraine agreed.
Claudia nodded. “Honestly, when are they wrong with stuff like this?”
“Do we have time for me to recite the list?” Christopher snapped.
Amy leaned back and gave him a long look. “What happened that you didn’t tell me about?”
“Nothing,” he muttered.
Amy raised her eyebrow, but she let it go. “I’m with Kitty and Tim. He was pulling the same stunt when I met all of you.”
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “He was.”
Chuckie’s head swiveled toward me. “I know that tone of voice. What are you thinking?”
“He’s not very creative, is he? I mean, he’s using plays from his last two offensives against us. Both of which we know were created by Amy’s father and evil stepmother, with Madeleine Cartwright, Esteban Cantu, John Cooper, and the Z’porrah adding in, I’d assume. The scene in that room in the tunnels was like Paris all over again, only with more women than men.”
“You know, he recognized me.” Brian said slowly. “I realize that’s not significant, but it was . . . odd. He said ‘nice to see you again,’ and then he laughed. I thought he was just being a jerk. But he really seemed to be enjoying himself, and not like, say, Howard Taft was enjoying himself when he wanted to kill all of us. It was like he was having fun, playing around.”
“Ronald Regan.”
This definitely got the entire room looking at me.
“What does the Great Communicator have to do with this?” Reader asked.
“He was the only President who didn’t seem to age while he was in office. I can remember my Aunt Carla saying that he hadn’t aged because he was an actor and for an actor there’s no better role than being President.”
“Does that woman have a view that’s not insulting to someone, anyone, somewhere?” Jeff asked.
“Not really. But she has a point. Actors love a role of a lifetime, don’t they?”
Raj nodded. “And, as so many like to share all the time, troubadours are pretty much tailor-made for roles in the entertainment industry.” Saw the light go on in Raj’s eyes. “You don’t think he’s the one in charge this time, either, do you, Ambassador?”
Now wasn’t the time to tell Raj to stop it with the formality, but made a mental note to remind him later. Everyone was stressed out, and in times of stress, we all reverted to what was comfortable or familiar, after all. “No, I don’t think he’s in charge. Someone else is.” Looked at Tim.
Who nodded. “Like you said to Christopher back at the Science Center, this sounds a lot more like the Mastermind.”
CHAPTER 47
JEFF GROANED. “We’ve had enough ‘fun’ with the Mastermind to last a lifetime.”
“He, or she, isn’t stopping. And, let’s face it, for all we know, Apprentice Tryouts have started up again.”
“So, what was the point of taking our people?” Christopher asked as Gower, Naomi, Abigail, Gladys, and White joined us. “You said you thought it was to get Patrick and Jamie.”
“And I still do. Tim pointed out that only the Poof I asked for by name went to help.” I swallowed. “I shouldn’t have sent him, either, because despite what happened, I don’t think they ever intended to hurt anyone in the room other than Brian.”
“Why are you all here?” Jeff asked the newest arrivals. “You need to be with your parents.”
Gower shook his head. “Uncle Alfred and Aunt Lucinda are here now. We don’t have time to indulge the grief. We’ve never been this exposed or vulnerable.”
“I don’t understand why ACE didn’t help us,” Abigail said softly. Gower’s shoulders slumped.
I really felt for Gower. He’d been through more than enough. Time to be the Resident Bearer of Bad News again. “ACE is gone. In a way. He hasn’t been with us since the end of Operation Destruction. We don’t know how to get him back. So, right now, ACE can’t be in any equation we’re working.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered if we’d still had our talents,” Naomi said.
“Don’t blame yourselves—”
“I don’t,” she said before I could finish. “I blame you.”
“How is it Kitty’s fault?” Tim asked.
“She’s the one who had us burn ourselves out during the invasion. If we hadn’t, we’d have been able to get away from Al Dejahl and my brother would still be alive.”
“Never, ever let me hear you complain about that again,” Gower said, with full Authority of the Office of the Supreme Pontifex in his tone. “Our jobs are to protect the innocent. That was the best reason to burn out talent that anyone’s ever had. You two saved tens of thousands as well as national treasures this country could never reclaim.”
“She didn’t mean it that way,” Abigail said. “It’s just . . . we couldn’t do anything.”
“We could do even less,” Jeff said. “None of us like feeling impotent, but that’s not a reason to attack each other.”
Naomi seemed to ignore what they were saying and, instead, advanced on me, eyes flashing. “You called for Fuzzball, I know you did. You’re the only one the Poofs listen to. If you’d
stayed the hell out of it—”
“You’d all be dead,” White said calmly. “And Naomi, as our Supreme Pontifex said, that’s enough.”
“No, it’s not. Michael’s dead and for what? So we can do whatever Kitty says again? And get more of our people killed?”
I knew she was grieving, but Naomi was reminding me a lot of when she’d been a total Bridezilla. It wasn’t a good personality style for her. And it was a complete 180-degree change from this morning and how she normally was.
“Mimi, calm down,” Chuckie said soothingly. Amy and I both winced in anticipation.
Sure enough, Naomi spun around and turned on him. “You always take her side! You think she never makes mistakes! You act like she walks on water! I’m sick of it! I’m sick of all of this. My brother’s dead and all you’re all doing is lounging around chatting.”
She was getting hysterical. And, while grief and stress did terrible things to people, Naomi wasn’t normally a raging bitch. Brian had been blindfolded, and that meant the others probably had, too. The men had been stripped to the waist but all the women had had their shirtsleeves torn off. Why?
I knew in my gut that Michael wasn’t supposed to have been killed—he was one of the few adult hybrids out there, he was more valuable to the bad guys alive. But none of the hostages had really had time to compare notes.
Naomi was still freaking out and most of the others didn’t seem to know what to do. Tito and Nurse Carter were speaking quietly to Melanie and Emily, so I knew they were coming up with a medical response. However, I wanted this stopped now, and I knew how, and I knew Amy did as well. She and I exchanged a look and she nodded. Fine, she had my back on this one if necessary.
Rahmi and Rhee had noted my little exchange with Amy, and they both nodded to me. Good, if necessary, I’d have Amazonian backup, too. Hoped it wouldn’t be necessary.
Went to Naomi, who was now screaming at Gower, White, and Abigail about how they never supported her or loved Michael. This was officially too much, and I stopped worrying about her or anyone else’s reaction to what I was going to do. I spun her toward me, and slapped her as hard as I could.
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