by Gini Koch
“And we should have heard them even if we didn’t see them,” Kyle added. “There would be no reason to go to the East Wing. That’s your area, Kitty, where the First Lady runs things.”
“Maybe Vance wanted them to check something out over there?”
“Why take everyone?” Len asked.
“No clue. Um, link up, I think it’s time to do the hyperspeed check of the entire building, because I’m not spotting any White House staffers anywhere, either.”
Right before we took off I felt something nudge my leg. Looked down to see Bruno there. He bobbed his head, fluffed his feathers, and squawked quietly.
“What’s the word?” Len asked. The boys were less freaked out by my Dr. Doolittle talents than most others. Yet another one of their sterling qualities.
“Huh. Well, the first word is ‘phones,’ as in we all have them and Bruno is wondering why we haven’t bothered to send a text or make a call, but the second word is East Wing, as it turns out. They’re over there to watch a movie or similar. Apparently. I have no clue. But everyone is fine. And not missing us.” Well, not missing me. Which was both okay and sort of disappointing. Focused on the okay side.
The okay side shared that I had two people with me who were legitimately assigned as protection who were also game to actually do something and break the rules, and no one around to tell me not to do something. I wouldn’t have long—sooner rather than later, someone would want to know why I wasn’t coming to join the rest of them. But I’d have long enough. Besides, who knew when I’d ever get an opportunity like this again?
But, what was I going to do with it?
Had no ideas other than to head to the Embassy complex and visit Hacker International, which now seemed anticlimactic. I could get there without permission any time. However, I was out of clever ideas for what things to do that no one wanted me to do.
Was about to give up and let my one golden opportunity pass me by, when my phone beeped. Bruno looked smug. Ignored him. “Huh, Stryker has intel.”
Stryker Dane was the unofficial head of what I’d nicknamed Hacker International—a group of the top five hackers in the world. Stryker was also the author of the “Taken Away” series, where he wrote about being abducted by aliens. He wrote good fiction, basically.
Chuckie had ferreted out that Stryker Dane was Eddy Simms and found where he lived—Pueblo Caliente, just like us—when we were in high school, and even though Stryker was a decade older than us, he’d become one of Chuckie’s closest confidants. I’d known Stryker just as long, of course, and had found out where he’d been living and working during Operation Destruction—Andrews Air Force Base. Due to a variety of circumstances, he and the rest of Hacker International had ended up living with us in the Zoo portion of the Embassy complex.
But these days we had the True Number One Hacker in the World living with us as well—Chernobog the Ultimate, thought to be a boogeyman myth until we’d had her existence confirmed during Operation Infiltration. We’d found her during Operation Defection Election and, because of the deal I’d brokered, she was considered officially dead and was happily living in the Zoo—under watchful guard—and finally using her talents for good.
Made the call and put it on speaker so the boys could hear. “Hey, Eddy, how’re they hanging?”
“Well like always, Kitty. Look, all that stuff you sent over? It’s interesting.”
“I figured. I want to know how interesting it is.”
“Very interesting. First off, she shredded the file folders as well as the documents. We put those together first because there was less and it was easier and faster to do. But all the folders were marked and the names are all indicative of robotics research.”
“Robotics versus androids?”
“Yes. There is a distinction.” Could hear voices in the background. Arguing. Which was The Way of Hacker International. “Chernobog says they’re distinctly different, so they are,” Stryker said with finality.
“I agree. I don’t want the nuance, so don’t tell it to me. But since all we have are folder titles, while this is interesting, I don’t get why you’re excited.”
“I’m excited because we have more than titles. But before I get to that, you should know that we monitor the police bands. An anonymous tip was called in about a possible abduction. The police are at the scene.”
“K-9 squad?”
“No, and you should be thankful, because those dogs know your scent and they’d actually incriminate you.”
“Good point, not that we did anything wrong.”
“No? You stole shredded classified documents.” Stryker sounded smug.
“Yeah? How do you know that?”
“I know because we’ve gotten them all put back together, not just the folders, because the A-Cs assigned to us are excellent.”
I was impressed. I’d had no idea Stryker was capable of buttering someone up, but apparently he had hidden depths.
“True enough. So, what’s the word?”
“The word is that the shredded documents are schematics for robots. Robots who are supposed to imitate people.”
“Always nice to be right. So, what else?”
“We could make a functioning robot from these—I have no idea what this information was doing at the home of the Assistant to the Secretary of State, but these papers shouldn’t have been there. The police feel, just like you guys did, that something’s off at the crime scene and that it’s staged. However, no one’s seen Marion Villanova for over two weeks, and so they’re investigating it as a missing persons case while also trying to figure out what’s going on. The blood is hers, by the way, and there’s a lot of it.”
“A full thermos, as memory serves.”
“Right, that’s a lot. Enough to insinuate that she’s dead.”
“Or else she’s been donating blood on a regular basis until they had enough.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Evan came to the apartment today. Not two weeks ago, not one week ago, but today. He searched for what we’d already taken, found nothing, tossed the blood around, and then, and only then, did the police get their anonymous tip. They were waiting until she’d given enough blood to the cause to ensure that police would feel that she was potentially dead before her body left the apartment.”
Heard voices again. “Yeah, okay, everyone agrees.”
“I didn’t realize I was on speaker.”
“You’re not, we’re just all hooked into the call. Only I can talk to you, though.”
“How extra special.”
“What we don’t agree on is why. This makes no sense, really. A scene staged as much as this one is—it’s highly suspicious. The police aren’t sure what’s going on, but they know it’s something fishy, fishier than an abduction.”
“Maybe that’s the goal. And don’t ask me what that goal is. My job in this scenario is to try to figure that out, but it’s not like I know the plans, I just have to foil them.”
More voices. “Chernobog says she has every faith in you.”
“Boggy’s my favorite. Okay, so the police are as suspicious as we are, and we can now make robots from the shredded papers. It’s more than we had.”
“Why leave diamonds in ice cubes?” Len asked. “That seems stupid and pointless both.”
“They were left there to be found. Evan looked for them, so he was expecting to find ice cubes in those trays and presumably the diamonds inside them.”
“But why? Clearly it wasn’t a payment to him, because he did the rest of whatever he viewed his job to be.”
“What’s this about diamonds?” Stryker asked before I could reply. “No one mentioned diamonds.”
“They must have forgotten about them.” Or figured I hadn’t wanted Hacker International told about them. Explained the four diamonds I’d found and how. “Why
do you care?”
“I care because the robot brains need diamonds to function.”
We stared at each other as Kyle’s phone beeped. He grunted. “Mister Reynolds just asked if we’re okay.” His phone beeped again. “And now there’s Mister Buchanan, verifying that we’re not idiots. I told them both we’re in here, talking, and will join the rest of them in a little while.”
“It’s hard having two bosses, I know,” Stryker said, sympathy oozing. “Chuck can be quite the pain to deal with and, frankly, sometimes Jeff can be worse.”
“Yeah, yeah, and all your bosses are slave drivers and you know better than they do—”
Stopped speaking. The boys stared at me and it was silent on the phone. “What?” Len asked finally.
“Two bosses. What if Villanova and Evan have two bosses? Or more? Or a new boss who took over once Strauss was dead? What if they’re in it together somehow and trying to play or appease those different bosses?”
Everyone was quiet, a shocking thing, really. A-Cs were normally silent when thinking, but humans weren’t always. Hacker International in particular liked to run their yaps almost as much as I liked to run mine.
“That could be,” Stryker said slowly. “But if so, who are their bosses and what’s really going on?”
“The boss they liked was Strauss,” Len said.
“Why do you say that? Not arguing, just asking.”
Len shrugged. “Because they were already rolling it and always could have come to you for help, meaning they were happy to be involved.”
“Precedent has been set for enemies coming to me for help, so . . .”
“Villanova’s been her assistant for as long as you’ve been in D.C., right?”
“Longer.”
“You think this was rolling when it was because that’s when Strauss gave the go order. So, why keep it going now that she’s dead?”
“If you think it’s to honor her, I don’t buy it.”
“No, I think someone else knew about it, and is making Villanova and Evan continue the plan.”
“Kitty,” Stryker said, “the robot schematics are general for the most part, however, they have two significant things that stand out beyond their needing diamonds to function—they’re all supposed to explode and they’re all for women.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. The ‘original prototype’ was a female. We figure that’s the Kitty-Bot.”
“Why have them built only to explode?” Kyle asked. “That seems awfully wasteful.”
Shrugged. “Of the diamonds, yeah, but it’s effective otherwise. We’ve already figured out how they were going to use the Kitty-Bot. It’s not a leap to assume that a woman’s going to be able to get closer to certain people or in certain situations than a man.”
“Agreed,” Stryker said. “But there are a couple that are very specific, and we know this because they were named.”
“Really? Who?”
“Janelle Gardiner and Amy.”
“Amy who?”
“Amy Amy. Our Amy.”
CHAPTER 27
MANAGED NOT TO GET too angry. Well, that was a lie. Was really angry, but decided to save it for when I was really going to need it. “Is Amy safe?”
“Yeah, we’ve verified. She and Becky are in their rooms and Christopher’s there and has been since we figured out that she was called out, which was right before I called you. They have security in with them as well as all over the Embassy. And your dad is there with them, too.”
“Great.” Pondered. Realized I was still me and needed to talk to think. “Okay, so is Talia Lee on that list by any chance?”
“No, the only names are Amy Gaultier and Janelle Gardiner. Not to say that they aren’t planning more, because it certainly seems like they are. But those are the only names called out. The rest are in code, and we haven’t cracked the code yet.” Voices in the background. “Yeah, yeah. The guys think we’ll have it cracked by tomorrow.”
“Okay, speed it up, speaking as Boss Number Three. So this explains why Talia called me instead of having Janelle call.”
“It does?” Len asked.
“Yeah. They rolled the Kitty-Bot, and for all I know they’re ready to roll the Janelle-Bot. Maybe they wouldn’t have but Quinton Cross just died. Now is a perfect time for either Somerall or Gardiner to solidify power. That’s why they suddenly want Amy to ‘take her place’ on the Board—they can get her alone that way and do the robot switch. Then she goes back to the Embassy and blows it up. No idea who or what Gardiner is going to blow up, but be assured that it’s something. Then Somerall controls all of Gaultier free and clear of real competition.”
“They’ll use Lizzie as the excuse for the bomb, too,” Kyle said angrily.
“Yeah. Okay, Eddy, anything else?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay, then can you track Janelle Gardiner and determine where she is?”
“Hang on, Chernobog is on it.” Waited a minute or so during which time I contemplated options. “Yeah, got it. She’s supposedly at home, at least that’s where her phone is.” He gave me the address.
“Thank you. Keep me posted as events warrant. We’ll be over there in a while.” Hung up and dropped my phone into my purse. “Guys? I think we need to pay a call on Janelle Gardiner.”
“Who do you want to take with us?” Len asked.
“Just you two.” Looked at Bruno. “And our Attack Peregrine. And any Poofs who might be wanting to go on an adventure.” Checked my purse. Harlie, the Head Poof, and Poofikins, my Poof, were in there, along with several others. “Excellent. Poofs are on Board. Do you guys have evidence gloves on you by any chance?”
“We do,” Len said, as he picked up Bruno. “Serene told us to have them on us at all times, and that’s CIA policy anyway.”
“I have extras,” Kyle said.
“Awesome, I’ll want a pair.” With that I grabbed his hand and Len’s, then I hypersped us back to the West Wing and went out the same way the Spaceship Recovery Team had. There were no A-Cs around and we zipped past the few humans guarding the exterior of this part of the complex far faster than they could see.
Clearly we were going to need to up the White House security, regardless of whatever was supposedly already in place, because I’d gotten out twice and, so far, in once with no issues. Siler had gone chameleon, meaning that team wasn’t advising anyone that they were going out of the complex, and Lorraine and Claudia had mentioned no issues, so I wasn’t the only one dashing to and fro with no hindrance. While this was helpful for me and the rest of the team today, wasn’t sure that I wanted anyone with hyperspeed just able to waltz in and out, especially since there was no guarantee that Stephanie was the only traitor A-C around these days.
Hyperspeed was hard on humans—the normal reaction when it was over was to barf your guts out, if you hadn’t already passed out midway through. Tito was amazing, though, and he’d created our own Hyperspeed Dramamine. Every human agent we had now took it regularly, which included our specifically assigned Secret Service teams, too. The boys, needless to say, never missed a dose.
Fortunately, Kyle had recorded the address and I let him lead, since I still got lost in D.C. without a map, a GPS, and someone else to give me directions. So I provided the speed and Kyle steered.
Interestingly, Gardiner lived in Georgetown, just like Whitmore and Villanova. She wasn’t in an apartment but her own three-story house. Which happily had a backyard with a lot of flourishing old trees and bushes, meaning it was well hidden from prying eyes.
Stopped running and we slunk around to the back door while putting on our plastic gloves. Listened hard but didn’t hear anyone. Knocked softly. No answer. Tried the door. Unlocked. Not a good sign.
Opened the door slowly and carefully to find ourselves in the kitchen. It was clean and neat and no one w
as there. Closed the door behind us and checked the fridge and freezer. Both looked normal and nothing was ridiculously out of code, though Gardiner ate a lot of frozen and preprepared meals. I could relate—my fridge had looked a lot like this before I’d joined Centaurion Division.
“If she’s been taken or changed, it was recently,” I said softly.
Len nodded and pointed to the milk. It went out of code two weeks from now, meaning that it had to have been purchased recently.
We worked our way through the house, Bruno perched on Len’s shoulder. The house wasn’t huge, and we only took a few minutes to find nothing and no one on the first or second floors. Kitchen, living room, bathroom, and utility room were on the first floor. The second one had two bedrooms and one bathroom. One of the bedrooms appeared to be where Gardiner slept and one was her home office. Checked the shredder—nothing in it.
The third floor had another bathroom and a playroom for the children I was pretty sure Gardiner didn’t have. It also had another bedroom, and it was in here we finally found something of interest. Mainly, Janelle Gardiner.
She was fully clothed in a typical business suit, shoes included, and lying on top of the bed, hands crossed over her stomach. Makeup was on and her hair was done. Her eyes were closed but she wasn’t breathing.
Went to her and touched her neck. No pulse. But her eyes opened.
The boys and I jumped and yelped, proving that our Stealth Skills were sadly lacking.
What I was fairly sure was the Janelle Gardiner Fem-Bot turned its head toward me. “Who are you?” Sounded like I remembered Gardiner sounding.
“A friend. Who are you?”
“Why are you here?” She sat up without using her arms or legs in any way. Either Gardiner had Abs of Steel or we were definitely talking to her Fem-Bot.
“Ah, we came to get you.”
“Why? Is it time?”
“Um, yes?”
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Whatever this Fem-Bot was supposed to do, it wasn’t fool anyone into thinking that she was a real human being. The Kitty-Bot had been far more lifelike in her movements.
