The other thing that nagged at my mind was that the enemy could still be taking convicts from prisons. I hadn't gotten intel on that for more than a week and worried that the enemy was getting better with their replacements, and better at controlling wardens and guards.
"I'm concerned that those in Peru may align themselves with our other enemies," I said before I could stop myself.
"Which enemies? That's preposterous," Wilbur said.
"Which enemies would like to do us the most harm?" I countered.
"This is ridiculous and I have a meeting in fifteen minutes," the President shoved photographs in my direction. "Either bring me hard proof that our enemies are collaborating with these idiots in Peru or don't mention this to me again. Peru is in South America, for fuck's sake. Not our problem."
"Until it becomes our problem," Colonel Hunter rose from his seat. I understood he was seething; I was, too. Wilbur Hinson had become the poster child for those whose heads were buried in their asses.
"Thank you for meeting with us, Mr. President," I nodded and refused to meet his eyes. When this blew up in his face as it surely would, he'd be looking for someone to blame. He and Hinson would be happy to place that blame on Colonel Hunter and me. After all, we were the thorns in his side, leftovers from the previous administration. The Directors FBI and CIA were his appointees and his ass had their lip prints all over it.
"That was just as useless as I thought it would be," Colonel Hunter sighed as we walked along a marble-floored hall together.
"Yes, but it had to be done," I responded.
"I recorded the whole thing," he added.
"Good. So did I."
* * *
Vic Malone
"Kids and old people," Loftin mumbled as he paced. "Not like."
He wanted women to kill. Pretty women, in their prime. V'ili told us to kill Peruvian natives. Loftin didn't get off as well with those. His crazy had ramped up to new levels as a result, until I watched my own back with him.
"Shut up," Charlene snapped, causing Loftin's head to twist in her direction. He drooled while looking at her; it was disgusting. He wanted to kill her so bad he had a hard on.
V'ili said no killing of the women in the compound. Loftin held his head in his hands—he'd gotten pain from his desire to torture Charlene before she died.
I wanted to kill her, too—because she was a bitch and deserved it. Pain lanced through my brain at the thought.
"Both of you, to your cabin," Daris ordered. V'ili made sure we did as Deris and Daris commanded. Not Morgett, though. Morgett had his own way of making us suffer. I grabbed Loftin's arm and dragged him toward our quarters. No need to tempt fate, in case Daris decided to contact her uncle and tell him what bad boys we'd been.
"Kill them all." Spittle flew from Loftin's mouth as he spoke.
I wished at that moment it were possible.
Chapter 13
Peru
Laurel Rome
"They want in so badly, they're willing to pay us instead of the other way around," Morgett paced inside the compound's library. The books were gathering dust; nobody was interested in them, so they weren't cleaned.
"As long as they don't come near me," I insisted. Terrorists made me shiver. Not only could they do hit-and-run bombings whenever and wherever, they wanted to kill anybody not aligned with their particular organization or their version of religion. That included other terrorist groups. "I don't understand them or their language."
"My dear, we will supplant them, do not concern yourself," Morgett's grin revealed rows of sharp teeth at first. I blinked before my vision cleared and I saw they looked normal. I was so worried about the terrorists that I was seeing things.
"You mean we'll be terrorists?" I asked.
"We already are," he laughed.
* * *
Lexsi
"Mason, Davis and Thomas will be coming in tonight," Opal said as she joined us for lunch. "Had a meeting with POTUS and SecState this morning—It didn't go well. I expect all this to blow up in our faces as a result."
"Politicians," Jamie snorted and crunched into a taco.
"Meanwhile, people are dying and we can't do anything about it." A curl of smoke escaped Kory's nostrils.
"We could try, but that would be playing our hand prematurely, and likely get us killed," Opal pointed out. "They have a spell set around the border. Anybody who crosses it gets fried. If you show up unannounced wherever they are, you get blasted to bits and fried. Either way, you're dead and they're still armed to the teeth. Phineas wanted to go in underwater. Davis and Thomas tried that last night with a droid in a river. The robot was destroyed in the middle of the night, almost the second it passed the border."
"What about shifters?" Watson asked.
"I'm terrified to try it," Opal admitted. "We could lose an ally, in the name of dangerous experimentation."
"Birds as camera carriers?" I asked.
Opal's mouth tightened.
"You're worried about retaliation, aren't you?" I asked.
"Not only that, but there are reverse spells they can implement, to track any creature or device to its origins."
That came from Zaria, who walked into the dining room with Klancy and Kell. Kell went straight to Opal and leaned down to kiss her. A short, private conversation occurred between the two before Kell took the chair next to Opal's, sat and pulled the plate of warm taco shells toward him.
"I have another concern, too," Zaria said as Klancy pulled a chair out for her.
"What's that?" Opal asked.
"I'm beginning to be concerned that they have someone with them who can read power signatures."
Opal, who'd been helping Kell put tacos together, stilled.
"Just what we need," she said after considering Zaria's words. "One more unholy alliance."
I had no idea what she was talking about, but the fear in her voice terrified me.
* * *
"We can't risk anyone going in as mist," Opal said. I'd approached her on the patio after lunch; she and I stood at the half-wall again to have our conversation. "Look at it this way, if I were going to allow anyone to go in as mist, I'd send Mason. He's vampire and can be—well, somewhat less affected by what he may see there. I'm concerned that if you materialized—either of you—it may be exactly what they're waiting for. I'm not risking your life for this. You're too important."
"Those people who are dying; they're important, too," I pointed out.
"I know." Opal hung her head. "There's only one of you, young one. We have to send you and Kory into the fight when it will do the most good."
"What if there's another way?" I asked.
"What way?"
"I don't know," I floundered. "But there has to be one." I couldn't help thinking that my mother would have found a way around this already. I felt inadequate, still, because people were dying and I wasn't doing anything to help.
"If you come up with any ideas, I'll be willing to listen." Opal turned away from the wall and walked toward the house. I stayed behind, my eyes unfocused on the Pacific to the west.
* * *
Kordevik
"Do you think they have every inch of the border controlled?" I asked Kell. He, Klancy, Jamie, Watson and I were in the media room, a European football game on television but muted, so we could talk.
"So far, it appears that way. It's mind-boggling that they may be able to do this, but those machines they've set to guard the perimeter will mean death to anyone they target. We cannot risk anyone, including your misting mate."
"There has to be a way," I fumed. Like Lexsi, the thought of innocents dying made my blood boil. For a High Demon, that statement was literal and not figurative only.
"They will have to transport that filth somewhere, when it is harvested," Klancy observed. "Will we know when that happens? Do we have anyone with the talent to know when it leaves this world, bound for another?"
"May we join you?" Zaria and Opal opened the door and peek
ed in. A smile lit Klancy's features and Kell grinned at Opal. "We'll take that as a yes," Opal said. Once the women were inside (Zaria sat beside Klancy and Kell patted the sofa next to him, inviting Opal to sit with him), we resumed our conversation.
"I'd need a sample of the seed they're shipping, hon," Zaria answered Klancy's question. "That way, I could set a spell with that particular vibration, so I can capture a signal when other seed matching it left the planet. It's a complicated spell. Not many can do it."
"You're saying it has to be seed from the same harvest?" Kell asked.
"Yes. It has to have the exact soil, growing conditions, amounts of water—you understand? That means seed from the same fields may be mixed with other seed from fields with different conditions, but the spell will lock on the seed it's meant to detect, even when hidden with other seed."
"That takes talent," Opal said.
"It's a difficult spell and takes time to do, but it can be done. The problem, of course, is getting the sample to begin with."
"And we can't get across the border to do that. Even if we did, the infiltrator could be attacked or killed at any time. Those seed fields are probably guarded more closely than Fort Knox." Kell grimaced as he considered the problem before us.
"I may have an answer," Lexsi burst through the door, holding a tablet in her hand.
"What?" Opal and Zaria spoke at the same time.
"The oil pipeline," Lexsi breathed, setting the tablet in Opal's outstretched hands. "The environmental groups have been complaining for years about it, saying it endangers the indigenous people living in the Pastaza Basin. That's on the border between Peru and Ecuador. If we send cameras through, maybe we can find something out before they're discovered. If the enemy destroys the pipeline to get rid of our spying equipment, their source of energy fuel dries up, too. They've been bringing oil in for the past ten years, because the country uses more than they can produce. That's why the second pipeline was built next to the old, original one pumping domestic crude out of the country for refinement. If we do this it may endanger the indigenous peoples, but the way I see it, they're endangered more by what's taking over their lands."
"This," Opal tapped the tablet with a finger, "has possibilities. Let me look into this to see how well guarded the pipeline is on the Ecuadorian side. It makes me happy that they haven't upgraded to another fuel source."
"If you need our help," Yoff and Esme walked into the room, "We'll do whatever we can."
"Zaria and I will consider all our assets," Opal said.
"So stay tuned," Zaria wrinkled her nose at Yoff.
"What does stay tuned mean?" Yoff asked. I giggled. The phrase was an old Earth term and one he'd never heard before.
"Want a history lesson on the television and radio industries on Earth?" I asked.
"Not really," Yoff shook his head and grinned at me.
"Can you miniaturize small cameras?" Opal asked Yoff.
"Sure can," he answered, turning back to her. "Why? Won't they recognize the work of a wizard the second it crosses the border?"
"That's exactly what I'm hoping for," Opal replied. "If we release your miniaturized cameras hundreds of miles away from the pipeline, we may be able to get the real project done while they're distracted."
"Nice," Kory acknowledged. "When can we hear the full plan?"
"When Mason and the others get here," Opal replied.
"I need to go back to the market," I said. With so many people in the house, food disappeared quickly.
"We may need three or four carts this time," Anita said. "The two we filled two days ago just vanished."
Anita, Esme, Watson and Kory volunteered to go with me to the market. It wasn't difficult to see that Opal, Zaria, Kell and Klancy wanted to have a private discussion while we were gone. It didn't concern me; they'd tell us what we needed to know afterward.
* * *
The market was more crowded than I expected when we arrived, and the puzzling thing was there were few vehicles parked around it.
Where did these people come from? Anita sent mindspeech as we took three carts from the dwindling supply outside the door.
No idea, I responded.
Looks like a mixed gender version of the Stepford Wives, Esme said. I didn't understand her reference, but Kory did. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to his side immediately.
Baby, act normal, he sent. We'll get our stuff and go.
What is it? I did my best to look natural as we surveyed the fresh fruit and vegetables on tables. I wanted to make artichoke hearts in sauce and studied what was offered as I waited for Kory to reply.
Look at the wrists, Kory responded.
I wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't pointed it out.
Nearly two-thirds of the adults inside the store wore silver wristbands. The realization caused the hair on my arms to rise and every cell in my body to prickle.
We need one of those cuffs, Anita broke in.
Are you thinking what I'm thinking? I returned. Gentry Mullins had a plain silver wristband, and somebody thought it was important enough to steal after his death.
Yeah. Those cuffs get them across the border into Peru safely. Why the hell are they here, though, shopping for groceries?
I have a theory, Kory interrupted. Get your stuff, baby, and we'll work on the rest later.
We methodically went through the shopping list, only getting what was on it and nothing else. Before and behind us, when we stood in line to pay, were wristband wearers.
Yes, I wanted to ask Kory what he'd come up with, but forced the question back. How did these arrive? How were they planning to leave?
We found out, the moment we left the store. A huge passenger bus was parked close by; I assumed it had gone to get fuel somewhere while its passengers were shopping for supplies.
So many theories and options ran through my mind while I glanced at the people loading onto the bus with their bagged items.
This meant they had a drive ahead of them to reach the border of Peru—in any direction.
Unless—someone with power could meet them outside Punta Blanca and transport the entire bus back to their headquarters. All the wristband wearers looked to be servants to me. None were dressed as tourists or carried anything that looked like personal items, such as a tourist would have—items such as cell phones and purses. All paid in cash before leaving the store and loading onto the bus.
Zaria, I sent mindspeech in a mental whisper. Can you see this through my eyes?
I'm seeing it now, she replied. We really need one of those cuffs.
How? I queried.
I know this is dangerous, she replied, but can you mist onto that bus and cause the driver to have an accident after they drive away?
I can try, I began.
Take Kory with you, Zaria said. In your mist. He'll have a conniption if you don't.
I will have a conniption if you don't, Kory confirmed. Zaria had included him in her mindspeech.
What are we supposed to do after that? I asked.
Skip to the house. Opal and I will handle things from there.
Don't worry, Opal chimed in. I think we're about to start a riot, and you don't need to be anywhere near it.
We'll get in the car and drive away, Kory said. Anita, Watson and Esme can take the groceries home while Lexsi and I take care of business.
We were unloading our carts into the SUV by that time, and Kory quickly informed the others about the plans. I could see Anita and Esme wanted in on it, too, while Watson was doing his best not to growl as he shoved bags into the back of our vehicle.
He wanted a piece of those people, but they weren't the ones causing problems. "Baby, they're all obsessed," Anita informed Watson softly as she leaned next to him to hand him the last bag. "They're not the enemy. The ones controlling them are."
We climbed into the vehicle then, allowing Watson to take the wheel and drive us away. When we'd gone about a quarter mile, I told the others that Kory and I were going
and turned both of us to mist.
* * *
Opal
That girl is better than she imagines herself to be, I sent to Zaria the moment the large bus veered off the road and into a power pole. The power pole fell with a crash and a billow of sparks, ensuring that the surrounding neighborhood was now without electricity.
Just as I'd wanted, people began pouring out of their houses to see what the trouble was. That's when Phineas' merpeople arrived, pouring in from between houses as if they belonged there. Phineas himself started the argument with the bus driver—the downed pole meant the neighborhood was without power until someone arrived to repair it. In this area, it could take days.
Showtime, Zaria sent, heading straight for the obsessed woman who stood farthest away from the bus.
In moments, a replica of the woman stood beside our target, while Zaria employed her talent to whisk the real one—and us—back to the house.
Kory, Lexsi and the others waited there for us, while the hapless woman, who was so obsessed she didn't know how to react, merely blinked at her change of venue.
"Lexsi," Zaria said immediately, "Turn her to mist for thirty seconds and then release her. I want to prove our theory by reproducing the results of the last experiment."
I understood what Zaria meant. Lexsi had inadvertently released one victim from an obsession after he'd taken a known criminal's place in prison, by turning him to mist. If Zaria's suggestion bore fruit, then Lexsi could become the enemy's worst nightmare.
If they found out about her.
* * *
Lexsi
"Somebody time it," I said. The woman, completely oblivious, stood waiting for someone to tell her what to do.
The same person who'd placed the obsession, I imagined. "Go, baby," Kory jerked his head at me. He would count off seconds in his head. Probably another trick learned in the military on Kifirin.
I didn't waste time, going to mist quickly and gathering the unsuspecting woman up to hold her inside my mist. All of her particles, for a brief period, anyway, would be enveloped by mine.
"Time," Kory announced after what felt like an eternity instead of half a minute. I released the woman and became corporeal beside her. Nobody had to ask if the experiment had worked. The woman screamed in terror, then began to weep.
A Demon's Work Is Never Done: Latter Day Demons, Book 2 Page 19
