by Gini Koch
Bruno screeched again. “Oh, right. And Bruno says she was in the Embassy during Jamie’s birthday party, but since she was there as press, the Peregrines watched her but didn’t attack lest they create a scene we couldn’t recover from. She was sent out with the rest of the press by Cliff, so she wasn’t inside all that long.”
“One minute is too long,” Jeff growled. “And how did they actually comprehend she was press and that a problem could be created if they’d merely ripped her to shreds at the time? And why didn’t they tell you what was going on?”
More Bruno screeches. “Ah. They listened to how the people were allowed in. And they were clear that I had other, far more vital things to accomplish at that party. Their understanding is based on human and A-C reactions, but is now really the time? I’m sure Bruno can explain all this to you when we’re not in the middle of trying to figure out how to stop being impotently kept from the people we want to save.”
“Good point,” Jeff said. “Anything from Buchanan?”
“No word yet, Congressman.”
The camera was up off the floor and we were back to filming the hostages talking smack to their captors. Dier headed toward Brian flashing her knife around. The camera was again focused toward Brian. Abigail and Naomi were to Brian’s left, Michael was to his right. From what we’d seen, this meant the door was behind the camera, so basically opposite Brian.
There was a lot of noise in the room—the hostages were all talking, either giving information or trying to distract Dier, so it was hard to make out anything too clearly now. White joined me at my monitor.
Dier put the knife up against Brian’s throat. “Shut up or I do this the fast way. Less fun for me. He’ll be dead a lot quicker, though.” Her voice was icy, and it was pretty clear she meant it.
The room quieted. “That’s better,” the Swarthy Slapper said. Well, assumed it was him. No one had acted like a new person had entered the room.
“Shut up,” Dier said tiredly. “As if they’re actually afraid of you?”
“You treat me with respect,” he snarled. “My brother—”
“Your brother has you signed on as camera crew. If he felt you were capable, he’d have given you an actual assignment.”
“I have an assignment,” he muttered.
Dier ignored him. “Pay attention. This is going to be what happens to all of you.” She put the knife’s tip against Brian’s inner arm and cut him. Not too much, not too deeply, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Or that he didn’t bleed. Brian hissed in pain.
“Get away from him!” Michael shouted. “Leave him alone!”
Dier laughed. “Hardly. And what are you going to do about it anyway?”
Serene was hysterical. It was only a matter of time before we found out if Patrick and Jamie could indeed time warp, only a matter of time before people we loved were maimed or murdered. We had to do something, anything. “William, is Bruno still there?”
“Yes, Ambassador.”
“Bruno, I need the Poofs assembled. Maybe they can find and rescue everyone. Fuzzball should be able to find Michael. They need to hurry.”
Bruno squawked. “He’s disappeared, Ambassador,” William confirmed.
“Good.” The Poofs normally came through, and they’d been able to access the tunnels when no one else had been. Didn’t understand why they’d waited for me to give the order, but the Poofs had their own weird hierarchy and I was just glad they normally did as requested.
There was an odd, muffled, snapping noise. Couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like it was coming from outside of the room the hostages were in.
As if she was reading my mind, Dier stepped away from Brian and went out of camera range. Heard a door open, then shut. She was back in range, with something in her hand. What looked like a round ball made of mesh, but it gleamed in an odd way.
The ball wasn’t empty. There was a Poof inside it, trembling. I recognized it as Michael’s Poof, Fuzzball. “I hope you don’t think this is going to save the day in some way,” Dier said. “We have friends from far away who understand how to capture dangerous animals.”
She tossed the ball into the air, pulled a gun from somewhere, and fired. The Poof gave a short, tiny scream. The metal cage landed on the floor. Blood seeped out and Fuzzball didn’t move. I felt sick—I’d sent Fuzzball into a trap.
“You murderous bitch!” Michael roared. “You killed my Poof! What did Fuzzball ever do to you? Get away from my friend and my family!” With that, Michael broke free.
He was an A-C and he had hyperspeed. Dier was a trained assassin. It didn’t seem like a fair fight.
It wasn’t.
Three shots rang out, close together. Rapid-fire technique.
And then the camera pointed at the floor. Michael was lying there, next to Fuzzball, eyes wide and unblinking, blood spreading across his chest from three different entry wounds.
CHAPTER 44
THE HORRIFIED SILENCE was filled with a scream, from Naomi. I assumed many people were screaming, but we could hear Naomi. She was screaming her brother’s name.
Dier slapped her. “Shut up. Your brother was an idiot. Brave, but an idiot. As if I haven’t been training in how to deal with you people?” She shook her head. “Heroics. That’s what you’ll all get if you try anything else. You’ll get dead.”
“I don’t care what it’ll take,” Brian said evenly, though he was pale and shaking. “But there are a lot more of us than there are of you. We’ll hunt you down and kill you for this. I’ll hunt you with my last breath for murdering my best friend.”
Forced myself to look away from the screen. Jeff was holding Paul, who was sobbing silently. Chuckie was clutching Serene and vice versa, White was holding Reader who, like Gower, was crying. Everyone else in the room had looks of shocked, stricken horror on their faces, even Rahmi and Rhee.
Other than Adriana. Her eyes were narrowed, and she came up to me. “What now?” she asked quietly.
“Now? Just what Brian said—that bitch must pay. And the son of a bitch who hired and trained her is going to pay, too. They’re all going to pay, because I’m going to kill them all or die trying.”
She nodded. “Grandmother would agree. And I agree as well. Count me in.”
A crashing sound made everyone look back at the screens, and the cameraman turned toward the door. So we got a jumbled but fairly clear look at Walter, Jennifer, and Jeremy busting in.
The camera dropped to the ground on its side. Apparently that was a requirement of the cosmos.
More shots were fired, but Walter was trained Security, and the Barones were a trained Field team. The fight was over fast. Only this time, the people on the ground were Dier and the cameraman. The Barones tied them up, with a great deal of unnecessary extra violence I wholeheartedly approved of.
Walter got Melanie and Emily untied first and they both started doing CPR on Michael. Because of the way the camera had fallen we could see this, albeit everyone who was watching had to tilt their heads to the left.
“We need to get medical to them,” Tito said. “If we can—”
He was interrupted by Emily taking her hands away from Michael’s body as she started crying. Melanie joined her in that as Naomi and Abigail threw themselves onto Michael’s body, sobbing.
“We’re going to stop filming,” Gladys said, voice shaking with grief and anger, as she picked the camera up off the ground. “Because I don’t want our people witnessing what we’re going to do next.”
But before the camera could be turned off, more people came into the room. These people were Marines.
An older man I knew very well entered the room. “We’ll take it from here,” he said gently.
“No,” Gladys snapped. “This is our business.”
“No, ma’am, it’s not. I’m Major General Mortimer Katt of the United States Marines and we now have jurisdiction. Per Angela Katt of the Presidential Terrorism Control Unit.”
My phone rang. I answered i
t. “Missus Chief,” Buchanan said, very gently, “Mahin gave us the location. I’m sorry the Marines arrived a . . . little late.”
“Yeah. So, is she on our side or just didn’t want anyone tortured or killed while she was watching?”
“Your father and I aren’t sure yet. Do you want us to keep working her or do you want us to come back to be with you at the Embassy?”
“I don’t know, Malcolm. I—you decide, okay? Whatever you think will get us to the brains of the operation the fastest. So I can kill him.”
Buchanan cleared his throat. “Ah, can I speak to your husband?”
“No. He’s trying to console his cousin over an inconsolable loss. I’m fine, Malcolm.”
“No,” he said gently. “You’re not. Just promise me that you’ll call me before you roll any plan, okay? Call me and run it by me first.”
“Okay.”
“Promise me, Kitty,” he said sternly. “No one is emotionally okay right now. You’re all willing to do whatever sounds right, and that’s dangerous for everyone.”
“She killed Michael’s Poof like it was a toy target.”
“I know.”
“Now Caroline won’t even have Fuzzball to remember Michael by.” The tears were starting. I didn’t have time to cry.
Adriana put her arm around my shoulders. “Let me speak with him, please.” Handed her the phone. She hugged me. “Cry. Let me handle this side for right now.”
While Adriana had a conversation with Buchanan I couldn’t even focus on, I watched the screen with tears streaming down my face. For some reason, the camera was still going, now being handled by a Marine. Probably to keep our people from killing Dier and the Swarthy Slapper.
Marines were escorting our people out, two to an A-C, presumably because the A-Cs didn’t want to leave Michael’s body or Dier alive and the Marines were having to use a gentle form of force.
Brian knelt down next to Michael, picked up the cage that Fuzzball was in, and tried to open it. It required a lot of strength, because I could see his muscles straining. But he got it open finally.
He took the Poof out and gently placed it on Michael’s chest. “Make sure this travels with him,” he said to the Marines around him. “It was his pet, and it died trying to protect him.” He held onto the cage.
“We will do, son,” Uncle Mort said. He helped Brian up and gave him a hug—Uncle Mort had known Brian since I was in high school, after all. “Let’s get you home to your family, Brian.”
“Yes, sir.” Brian let Uncle Mort lead him out.
Once all the hostages were out of the room, the Marines brought in a stretcher. Walter looked into the camera, blocking what was happening from us. I knew it was intentional. He looked older than he ever had before. “Chief, I know you’re watching. We’re going to stay with Michael and ensure he’s returned to the American Centaurion Embassy.” He looked down, then back up. “I’m sorry we were too late to prevent this.”
“It wasn’t Walter’s fault, or the Marines’ fault,” I said to no one in particular. “It was my fault. If I hadn’t asked the Poofs to get involved, Fuzzball wouldn’t have gone, wouldn’t have been captured, wouldn’t have been killed, and then Michael might not have had enough rage to break free when he did.”
Someone took me away from Adriana, who was still quietly discussing strategy and tactics with Buchanan. But the someone wasn’t Jeff.
“It’s not your fault, Kitty,” Christopher said as he hugged me tightly. “You were the only one with ideas. And your ideas worked.”
“In the wrong way.”
“In the right way. There’s no way you could have known our enemies had found a way to trap the Poofs. But the Marines are there, and based on who you were talking to, that’s because they were sent by Buchanan or your father.”
“Dad. He always calls Uncle Mort when things are dangerous.”
“Right, and they could only do that because you had the idea to send the feed to them, so they could get Mahin to break.”
“But Michael’s dead. And so is Fuzzball. What am I going to tell Caroline?” I started to sob. Christopher put my face into his chest and rocked me.
“You’ll tell her the truth. That she was the only woman who made him stop playing the field, that he was a hero, and that he died a hero. He died trying to protect his family and friend and to avenge the senseless murder of his pet. There’s no shame in any of that.”
“None of it brings him back.”
“No. It doesn’t.” He kissed my head. “And we’ll make them pay. But right now, we all need to get home.” He sighed. “We’re back to where we were when you joined us.”
“How do you mean?”
“We’re fighting an enemy who knows us, has us at a complete disadvantage, and who we know little to nothing about. And either our enemy or circumstances have set us up so that the things we used to have that gave us the extra edge are gone.”
I pulled back a bit and looked at him. “That sounds far more like the Mastermind than Ronaldo Al Dejahl.”
“The Mastermind’s had plenty of time to regroup. And we need to regroup, too.”
“We do,” Tim said, as he came over to us. “Christopher, you need to help Jeff. I don’t think Paul can really walk right now, he’s too upset.”
Christopher nodded and handed me off to Tim. Who hugged me. “Christopher’s right, it’s not your fault.”
“Feels like my fault.”
“I know. Kitty, we all feel that way. I know this isn’t a great time, but I don’t want us to forget this.”
“Michael’s murder? I think I’ll remember.”
“No, I don’t want you or me to forget what I’m going to say right now. The Poofs are guardians, right? When we were in Paris and this same sort of thing was going on, the Poofs were with you. In fact, you told me they knew where we were and were why you and Richard arrived in time.”
“Right.”
“Okay, so this time, the only Poof that left the Embassy was Michael’s, and only because of your direct order. You asked for Poofs, but only one Poof came, the one you’d specifically asked for by name.”
“Not making me feel any better or less guilty, Tim.”
He shook his head. “That’s not my intention or my point. My point is this—why didn’t the Poofs leave the Embassy? Or, put another way, what or who were the Poofs keeping out? Or keeping in? And why did it take literally all of them to do so?”
CHAPTER 45
OUR PEOPLE WERE IN CONTROL of Home Base and the Science Center again. The P.T.C.U. was overseeing a complete, inch-by-inch scan and search of both facilities and all equipment. Meaning Kevin had stayed in Dulce. Alpha and Airborne, though, had come back with us to the Embassy.
Everyone else was back in their usual places, though all the hostages, Gladys included, were at the Embassy, too. Michael’s body was in one of the rooms in the infirmary, Fuzzball’s little body still with him, and all the Gowers, Reader, White, Chuckie, and Caroline were there. The less said about their emotional states the better, but Jeff had had to hug them all and then leave the room under Tito and Nurse Carter’s watchful eyes.
Dad and Buchanan were still in Guantanamo and Mom was with Kevin, but she’d called to tell me she was coming by soon and, as with Buchanan, not to roll any plan until she’d heard and approved it. Figured Buchanan had already told her he was worried. He was right to be.
We checked on the kids—they and the pets all seemed anxious, but relieved when we all got home. Tim gave me the “something’s up and off” look. Had to agree. But I was too heartsick to figure out what right now. I just hugged Jamie tightly and told her what a good girl she’d been. That she didn’t ask why we were all crying was proof to me that she, and the other kids, already knew why, and it wasn’t because Denise had told them.
We left the kids with Denise, Len and Kyle still on guard. The rest of us, spouses and the rest of the Embassy staff and any guests like Mr. Joel Oliver included, went upstairs to our ap
artment. Jeff felt we all needed to be in an environment that didn’t seem work-like or threatening. I figured we needed to be near our in-room isolation chamber so that when he collapsed from all the extreme emotions going on around him, it’d be that much quicker for Tito and Nurse Carter to get him safely taken care of.
The sheer number of people in it actually made our living room look like it was an ordinary size. Would have preferred a happier reason for the impromptu gathering, but what I wanted hadn’t been happening, so why change things now?
Serene and Brian had their reunion. Once she was feeling semi-normal he handed her the cage that had trapped Fuzzball. “Here’s a souvenir I picked up for you from the most horrible trip I’ve ever taken. The Marines didn’t try to take this away from me; not sure if they didn’t realize it was alien in nature, wanted us to research it, or were just too distracted with everything else to notice.”
“We need to know what that’s made of,” Jeff said. “I know we’re all emotionally drained and the real anguish hasn’t hit everyone yet. But we have to keep going.”
I’d had Hacker International join us, some because Jennifer and Ravi deserved their reunion, too, and some because I didn’t want to look at anyone on a video screen right now. I wanted everyone where I could touch them.
Serene examined the cage, then handed it off to Ravi, who examined it as well. “It’s going to take some time, Kitty,” Ravi said finally.
“If we don’t get answers, the terrorists win.”
“The Marines are taking them to Guantanamo,” Tim said. “We should know something soon.”
“I’d like to know how Walter, Jennifer, and Jeremy arrived in time to save the day.” In part because I wanted to talk about something, anything positive.
“We were too late,” Walter said quietly. The Barones looked like they agreed.
“No, you weren’t,” Jeff said. “They were going to torture and kill everyone in that room. You arrived in time to save the people Michael died trying to protect. That’s not failure, that’s commendable.”
