by Gini Koch
“As soon as we can, I’ll have Security search everyone ‘as a precaution,’” Raj said as we reached the basement. “But those don’t sound like emotions you’d automatically have programmed in.”
“Who knows what the latest crazed evil geniuses consider normal emotions?” We zipped upstairs. Decided to verify all was really well over here before we went back to the Zoo. “Com on.”
“Yes, Chief Katt-Martini?”
“Walt, how’s everything over here? Are we secure and do we have personnel in the Embassy again?”
“I have the shielding up on the Embassy, but have had to open shields on the Zoo, or else no one could get in or out. However, per my discussion with Consul White, I’ve closely monitored the walkway doors between buildings and have only opened for authorized personnel.”
“Walter, who, besides Christopher, myself, Kitty, Raj, and Richard, have you let through?” Jeff asked.
“Only Camilla, Chief. She said she needed to check something out on Mister Reynolds’ order.”
We looked at each other. “Um, Walter, where did she go when she was in here?”
“She stayed in the lower levels, Chief Katt-Martini. Second and first floors.”
“So, she didn’t try to go into the basement?” Jeff asked.
“No, Chief. Wouldn’t you have seen her in there?”
My brain kicked. “Walter, you monitor the basement, right?”
“Of course, Chief Katt-Martini. The basement is set up to be monitored. The tunnel levels less so, but that’s because most of the tunnels are now monitored from the computer lab, per Mister Reynolds’ order.”
They were monitored using human-created sensors and roving cameras, but I’d forgotten that I could have asked Hacker International if they’d spotted Buchanan and Hamlin in some way. Well, I’d do that when Raj and I went up there in a bit.
“So, what happened to Malcolm and the, um, visitor we had down there?”
“Oh, Mister Buchanan told me he was taking your guest somewhere safer. They left via the tunnel system before you’d sat down to dinner. He didn’t say you didn’t know,” Walter added, the worry clear in his voice.
“We’ve just been a little worried about where Malcolm went is all. Missed the communiqué from him, but all’s well if he told you he was taking our guest somewhere.” I sincerely hoped.
“Thanks, Walter,” Jeff said. “Go back to monitoring.”
“Yes, Chief.” The com went dead.
“So, what do you think Camilla was doing over here?” Jeff asked as he pulled out his phone and sent a text, presumably to Christopher to let him know that Buchanan was in control of the situation when they’d left the Embassy.
“You want to search or you want to ask her?”
“I want to do both. Wait here.” Jeff zipped off at the fast hyperspeed. He was back momentarily. “Nothing seems missing or out of place, at least not in my office, or anywhere else. Raj, you might want to check yours.”
“Yes, sir.” Raj zipped off and was back even faster than Jeff. When you got right down to it, hyperspeed was really great. “No, Ambassador, nothing seems to be disturbed.”
“Jeff. You called Kitty by her first name. Do it with me, too. That’s an order, if it helps.”
Raj grinned. “It helps . . . Jeff.”
“We both tend to prefer informality, Raj,” I added.
“No one prefers it more than you, baby, but that’s part of your charm.”
“So you claim. Now that that’s settled, let’s find out what Camilla was doing. We’re only jumpy because of what Ha—, ah, our guest told me.”
“Nice save, baby. If we’re assuming our absent guest is right, however, we need to remain jumpy.”
“What if, despite our beliefs to the contrary, Mister Reynolds is actually involved?” Raj asked carefully.
“Then we deal with it. Because I don’t believe Chuckie’s involved in anything that’s working against us, at least not consciously or willingly.”
“We need to determine if Camilla was really in here on his orders,” Jeff said. “And we need to find out what she was looking for and why, whether she came in here on his orders or not.”
“Asking directly may not be wise,” White pointed out.
“Then we’ll be sneaky about it.” Took Jeff’s hand. “Let’s get over to the other side.”
Zipped through the Embassy and over the walkway. Stopped before we hit Grandmother’s House, but only because we had to. A part of me was really willing to just run out of the Zoo and keep on going. But most of me wanted to know what the hell was going on and get it stopped.
We hadn’t been gone all that long, so we still had a lot of official people milling around on the second floor. Camilla and Chuckie were not among them. But this proved nothing, one way or the other.
I resented the fact that even a little part of me was wondering if Chuckie could be the Mastermind. I’d gotten over a lot of my hatred of D.C. but today’s events were threatening to bring it all back, and then some.
Of course, if I were the Mastermind, I’d want to be sure I focused blame on some easy targets. And there was no target easier or more obvious than Chuckie. Therefore, my job, as his oldest and best friend, was to ensure that I didn’t fall for the scam, and that I figured out who was behind it. No problem, I was Megalomaniac Girl—this was right there in my wheelhouse.
My internal dilemma solved, I turned back to the matters at hand, the first of which was calming Pierre down, because if I was freaked, he was freaked to the tenth power.
Time was spent in hugs, reassurances that no one in their right mind could hold him responsible, and confirmation that there was still no one better at being our Majordomo Concierge and he was, of course, not going anywhere other than to bed to relax and then to his offices to craft our clever PR response.
We’d easily spent as much time comforting Pierre as we had discussing evil plots against us, so by the time we were done, the K-9 squad were all together and had joined us, Prince nudging in between me and Jeff to get a double dose of petting from his two favorite ambassadors. His words, not mine.
“We’re ready to clear out, Ambassadors,” Melville said. “We have our killer caught and in custody, have everyone’s statements, and Centaurion Division’s agreed to let us take possession of the prisoner and book him.”
“Is Eugene still on the premises?” I asked.
“He’s downstairs in a secured car,” Melville said. “Some of your people are there.”
“I want to talk to him. Before he leaves.”
Melville shrugged. “Fine with me.”
“Don’t go alone,” Jeff said.
“I won’t be alone.” I took Prince’s lead from Melville. “You okay with me snagging your dog again?”
Melville grinned. “Nope, he loves you two.”
“I meant take another person.” Jeff looked worried.
“No.” I leaned up and kissed his cheek. “He may not talk if you’re there. Prince will rip Eugene’s throat out if he tries anything.”
“Promise?” Jeff asked.
Prince wuffed. “Yes, we both promise. Wait here until I’m back, though, please and thank you.”
Prince and I trotted downstairs. There were a lot of Security A-Cs around. Had a feeling they’d been called in from most of the Bases worldwide—the only time I’d seen this many in one place was at the Dome. I knew none of the Dome personnel had been pulled away. But even so, there were a lot of big, hulking, handsome guys hanging around in black Armani suits.
They all nodded to me and let me through. The police van taking Eugene away was easily spotted—it was surrounded by squad cars and a lot of men in SWAT gear. I chose not to question.
“I’d like to speak to the prisoner before he’s taken away,” I said to the nearest official looking guy. His name appeared to be Dier. Especially after looking at a bunch of A-Cs, he was pretty ordinary looking, other than the uniform.
“Authority?”
> I checked. Yep, they were in our circular driveway. “You’re on my country’s land.”
He cracked a smile. “Go right ahead, Ambassadress.”
“She’s an ambassador. Get it right or get out of the way.” Tim shook his head as he came to get me. “Amateurs.”
“What are you doing down here?”
“Airborne’s escorting the prisoner. Just in case.”
“All of Airborne?”
We walked around to the back of the van, and sure enough, the five flyboys were all in attendance. Tim was in the standard Armani suit all agents, human or A-C, wore, and the flyboys were still in their Navy dress whites. Eugene was going to have the best-looking and best-dressed honor guard going.
“Hey, Kitty,” Jerry Tucker, my favorite flyboy, said. “Been missing our girl. Going to kick this guy in the nuts before he’s taken away?”
“Contemplating my options. Can Prince and I go inside?”
Tim nodded to one of the SWAT guys, who opened the doors. I was almost shocked to see Eugene inside and alive.
“Kitty, I’m sorry.”
“Sure you are. Guys, a little help?” Joe Billings and Randy Muir, aka Lorraine and Claudia’s husbands, each took a side and lifted me into the van, while Prince gave a great example of an effortless, majestic leap. Matt Hughes and Chip Walker climbed in with us. “Um, I kind of want to talk to Eugene alone.”
“No,” Hughes said calmly.
“Sorry, Kitty,” Tim concurred. “My orders. If you’re in here, you have guards. Period.”
“Oh, fine, fine. Can the doors be closed?”
“Absolutely not,” Tim said flatly.
“Chip and Matt will with be with me, and I’m not going to do anything to Eugene anyway.” I glanced at our prisoner. “And you have him well-shackled, so unless he’s taken a course in how to become an escape artist, I think we’re all good. Besides, I have Prince.”
Tim sighed. “It’s you, Kitty. The bizarre finds you naturally. That’s an expensive dog you’re trying to carry around in your purse, but he’s not enough. The doors stay open, Matt and Chip go inside, and we’ll all wait for the explosions.”
“Thanks for that and you’re hilarious.” Tim and the others backed away from the doors. But all of them were watching, the SWAT guys with guns at the ready. Didn’t know whether to feel safe or totally in the line of fire. Settled for both. “Guys, can you stay back here while Eugene and I have a quiet talk?”
“Sure,” Walker said. “But we’ll be watching.”
“Never had a doubt.” Went to Eugene, who managed to combine a glower along with pathetic hopefulness. It was an interesting combo. “You said you’d been told what to do,” I said softly. “What did you mean by that?”
Eugene nodded. “Come closer,” he said quietly. “And I’ll tell you what I mean.”
Prince growled, low in his throat. “Ah, no. I think I’ll stay right here and you can tell me what you mean.”
“Fine. You’re right, I was jealous of Ed. But I wouldn’t have killed him, except it was the only way.”
“You didn’t kill Edmund Brewer, you killed Santiago Reyes. And only way for what?”
“The only way to save the world. You’ll see, Kitty. I’m a hero.”
CHAPTER 29
HAVING HELPED TO SAVE the world more than a couple times myself, this didn’t exactly impress me overmuch. I was also well aware that saving the world and being considered a hero did not necessarily go hand-in-hand.
“You need to come across with more factoids and less bluster. Because I don’t buy how killing your sorta romantic rival would save the world.”
“He’s not who you think he is, Kitty.” Eugene dropped his voice. “He’s a robot.”
My responses to this statement were limited, mostly because there was a fifty percent likelihood this was correct. After all, I’d seen more than my share of really excellent androids over the past year. Or more, depending on who might be still passing as human or A-C instead of identifying as an evil sleeper android.
Went with the safest reply. “Right.”
“He is,” Eugene said desperately. “Look, Kitty, I didn’t know what was in that packet. I was told that it was something deadly to a robotic but that wouldn’t hurt a human. Or an alien,” he added quickly.
“So, who gave you the packet and your marching orders?”
“I don’t know.”
“So, it was voices in your head?”
This earned me a dirty look. “No. I was contacted by mail. The situation was explained, and I was asked to help.”
“Who approached you?” Chose not to ask why Eugene thought anyone would approach him for hero work. Most people tended to think of themselves as willing to answer when the call came, after all.
“The C.I.A. The information came to me from Pia Ryan.”
“The late Jack Ryan’s wife?” Or, as I thought of him, one of the first casualties of Operation Assassination. Eugene nodded. “So, Pia’s who gave you all the stuff?”
“No, she gave me an envelope that had been delivered to her. But it was addressed to me. Pia said she figured someone had sent it to her because they knew she knew me.”
“And you believed her?”
“She seemed to be telling the truth. She gave it to me at a party, in front of everyone else.”
“You mean a party with all the people you used to despise?”
He glared at me. “Yes. Sorry, but I like having some friends.”
“You used me and lied to me. That ends friendships in my world.”
“Does it? You have a lot of liars around you, Kitty. Maybe more than you realize.”
“I’m sure. So, Pia gave you the packet and instructions?”
“No, she gave me an envelope that had another envelope inside it. This was also addressed to me and it was sealed. Inside was a full disclosure briefing about how we have a lot of robots masquerading as important politicians. They’re going to activate and take over, soon, unless they’re stopped.”
Interesting. This was, point of fact, basically true. But we’d found a lot of them during Operation Destruction. However, we all knew we hadn’t found every one.
Of course, the idea that some mysterious do-gooder had chosen Eugene to be his or her Instrument of Righteous Annihilation seemed more than a little farfetched. But it was a great way to get someone just gullible enough convinced to do your dirty work. And for sure we had people willing to do things like this prancing all over.
However, it was my turn to talk. Went, again, for noncommittal. “You’re high.”
“No, Kitty, I’m not. I saw the numbers, the information. I’m an actuary, this is what I do. There was a lot of information, and I read through all of it. Ran all the numbers. It all added up. Our people are in danger, mine and yours. I had to do something.”
“Going to the authorities wasn’t an option?”
“There’s no one I can trust there. The robots have a lot of control.”
It was actually bugging me that he was calling them robots instead of androids. Chose to not correct him and get over it. Presumably whoever was in charge had their reasons for telling Eugene he was dealing with a robot versus an android.
“I’m sure they do. So, you decided to cowboy it all on your own and kill someone accused of being a robot without, say, verifying first?”
“You can’t tell they’re a robot until they’re dead.”
“Really.” Did my best to get a lot of sarcasm into those two syllables.
“It’s true. All the data was in the briefing I got.”
“Okay, so where’s the information?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Look, Eugene, let’s pretend that I believe you and don’t still want to just kick your shin so hard that it’ll never stop hurting. If you really got instructions and information like this, they are the only thing that could have a prayer of clearing you of murder in the first. And I’m probably the only one willing to go find thi
s evidence, since I don’t see Lydia hanging around telling you she’ll wait for your cheating ass even if you get life in prison.”
“Why should I trust you? You said you aren’t my friend anymore.”
“Because to the entire rest of the world, you appear to be a crazy, cheating, and above all, stupid murderer, who just killed a public official in a gruesome manner only because you missed your actual intended target, who you wanted to kill so you could have his wife and yours, too. To me, however, you appear to be someone who might be telling the truth. On a Truthfulness Scale of one to ten, I have you at a two right now, but I’m prepared to go into the negative numbers unless you come across with something concrete.”
The reality of this seemed to strike him for the first time. “But . . . I didn’t know what I put in the water was deadly to anyone but a robot. Killing anyone human was an accident.”
“And just who, exactly, do you think is going to believe that, versus calling this extremely premeditated murder? Anyone? Bueller? Right, I only hear the sound of crickets chirping, Eugene.”
“What’s going to happen to me?” He wasn’t really asking me, since he was looking off into space in the terrified manner of someone who just realized they aren’t asleep after all and they really are standing naked in front of a huge auditorium filled with everyone they’ve ever known in their entire life.
“Gas chamber? Firing squad? Lethal injection? I’m not clear on what they do to you around here for this kind of horrific act of violence. But I know what we’ll do to you, and I doubt that we’ve relinquished all authority to the D.C. police and local legal system. Tell me where the hefty briefing papers and so-called anonymous instructions are. I’ll get them, and if you’re telling the truth, I’ll make sure the proper authorities know about it.”
He nodded. “I kept them hidden. So Lydia wouldn’t find them. Just in case.”
“Hidden where?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“Super. Where, exactly, is this safe place? Your office?” He shook his head. “Security deposit box?” Another head shake. “Bus locker?”