by Gini Koch
I tried to run but Jeff had his arm firmly around my waist. “She could still be alive.” I said desperately. I knew she wasn’t, though. Because the last thing I’d seen before the crash had been Gladys pointing the Glock at her own head. But I still wanted to believe she hadn’t pulled the trigger and was merely trapped in the wreckage, alive and okay.
“I can’t feel her,” Jeff said, voice choked.
“They’re wearing emotional blockers or whatever. I mean, can you feel the rest of us?”
“No,” Jeff admitted. He hugged me. “Not even you.”
“So that’s probably a good thing.”
“I’ll search,” Christopher said. “I’m best equipped.”
Decided not to ask him how he was better equipped than the rest of us to do this, because he looked as stricken as Jeff sounded. “We’ll all go,” Jeff said. “Just in case.”
“I can’t guarantee that nothing more will explode,” Mahin said. “I know the flames are out but . . .”
Before we could decide how foolhardy we wanted to be, the rest of our team arrived, let by White. Could see regular military personnel coming in the distance.
“Let the military search,” I told Christopher. “That way, we can’t be accused of anything.”
“But—” He looked ready to go anyway.
“Trust me. Please.”
“Bomb units are on the way,” Chuckie said. “Kitty’s right—it would be better to allow human military to handle the rest.”
Mahin was crying softly. Jeff reached out and pulled her to us. “It’ll be okay,” he said. He remained a terrible liar. The Poofs went small and jumped into pockets or my purse, depending.
“What happened?” White asked softly, as he pulled Christopher into his arms.
“Gladys . . . Gladys wasn’t mind controlled. She’s killed Ronaldo.” Managed not to add “and herself,” but White’s expression said that he knew. “She was in the crash.”
“I’m so sorry,” Mahin sobbed. “If I hadn’t listened to them, none of this would have happened.”
White took her from Jeff and hugged her. “We make mistakes. It’s part of what makes us who we all are. And part of who you are is my younger sister, just as Gladys was.”
“They’d have done it anyway,” Jeff said. “It’s what our enemies do. But by leaving them you weaken them and strengthen us.”
Wanted to follow that line of reasoning, but now wasn’t the time. Made a mental note that I needed to return to that point. Later.
Uncle Mort was on site now, and he had the bomb unit delving into the wreckage. They had dogs, which was sort of a surprise, but at least I knew if someone was still somehow alive the dogs would sniff them out.
I went to my uncle. “There should be three, possibly four, bodies. One of them will be a small woman who’s an A-C. If we can get her body back, that would be . . . good.”
Uncle Mort hugged me. “Gladys?”
“Yeah.”
“She was a brave woman.”
“She was. Uncle Mort . . . I think . . . I think she wanted to die. Why? She was a fighter, more like Mom and you than Dad or Richard. Why would she just . . . give up?”
He was quiet for a few moments, as he patted my back and stroked my hair, just like he’d done when I was a teenager and had had to call him to get me out of trouble when I couldn’t reach my parents. “My guess is because she knew, ultimately, who was responsible for what’s happened. And she didn’t want to live with that knowledge.”
“But she has a husband and a family.”
“Yes. And she’d know for the rest of her life that because she was susceptible to your enemy that she’d caused the deaths of many people, including those she loved. Never forget, Kitty—those who share the information with the enemy are as guilty as those who pull the triggers. Guiltier in many ways. There’s a reason we consider high treason to be a heinous crime.”
“But she didn’t betray us on purpose.”
“No, I presume she did not. How would that make her feel better?”
“She killed Ronaldo before the crash. I saw her do it, and I could tell he was dead. So why . . . go down with the ship?”
He sighed. “If you can be controlled by one, who’s to say you can’t be controlled by another? You’re talking about the woman who held every military secret Centaurion Division has ever had. And she was read as easily as you or I would read a children’s book. That kind of security breach can destroy an entire country, or more. Would she want to know she was responsible for destroying her people? How could she prevent being controlled the next time? How could she be sure she wasn’t being controlled every moment of her life? When your decisions are not your own, when your mind is not your own, there is no such thing as free will, and you cease to really exist as anything but a shell, even if you live for a hundred years.”
“There’s isolation.” But as I said it, I realized it wasn’t a life. Jeff went into isolation to be regenerated, not to spend the rest of his life there.
“You can still be found, even on the remotest part of the planet, or out in a universe that you now know is teeming with life. No, I understand her decision. Is it the choice I would have made? I’m thankful that I can’t say, but I can say that I hope I’m never put in the position Gladys was in. And I hope you never are, either.”
One of the bomb unit came over. “Sir, the dogs aren’t finding any signs of life.”
“I’ll let you handle this.” Gave Uncle Mort another hug, then headed back to Jeff and the others.
White reached out and pulled me to him. “She’s dead for certain?”
“Yes. Richard, I’m so sorry.”
He kissed the top of my head. “I as well. I regret not getting to say goodbye.”
Remembered Gladys had given me her phone. “Hang on.” Dug into my purse and got her cell out. Turned it on. “She said there was something she wanted me to see.” Scrolled through and found it in videos. The “Hey, Kiddo” title was something of a clue.
I hit play. Gladys’ face filled the screen.
“Recording this before I leave to go get you and head us over to Guantanamo. I’m pretty sure that my dream was being controlled by my younger brother, but what he doesn’t know is that I’ve figured out how to tell it’s him.”
Jeff and Christopher joined us.
Gladys grimaced. “But it’s a hell of a lot of work. I have to pay attention twenty-four-seven, and that means my life from now on will be watching for mind control, and that’s an all-consuming task. Meaning that unless he’s dead, I’ll never be free. I don’t know what all he’s gotten from me, but I do know that it’s more than we want him or our enemies having. So I’m going to take steps.”
The rest of our team was huddled around the phone now. I ensured the volume was at full.
“I’m going to kill Ronaldo. I know, once we’ve got him and you’re thinking clearly, you’ll tell me he needs to stay alive so that he can be questioned. But I also know he’s never had an original thought in his head, no one who knows him would trust him with real information, and the only place he’ll lead you is astray. You have others who know more and are of far more value. Catch, contain, and don’t lose them.”
Her expression went to sad anger. “My favorite nephew is dead, because of me. I never had children, and of all of the kids out there, Michael was most like the son I’d always wanted. Without being in the Yates bloodline, he still had the good parts of my father in him somehow, without the bad. I know everyone else wanted to blame themselves, you especially, for his murder. But the buck stops here, kiddo. Any other deaths that happen because of my being mind controlled are all on me, too. Your mother will understand.”
She looked at something, then back at the camera. “I’ve said goodbye to my husband, though he probably doesn’t know it. He’s a lover, not a fighter, and Richard and Stanley will help get him through this, just as he’ll help them. Tell Richard I was prepared and he’ll find whatever’s needed to trans
ition my role to someone else. And also, please tell Richard, and anyone else, that we say goodbye every day, and that I know they loved me and I want them to know that I loved them right back.”
Gladys sighed. “If my plan works, this is the last thing you’ll hear from me. I know you and the others are all going to question my choices, but there are worse things than dying, and I’m staring some of those things in the face right now.
“I’ll leave you with this—I agree that there’s a Mastermind. And I know Ronaldo was working for whoever that is. Remember that the Mastermind is your ultimate goal, but don’t forget that wars are won one battle at a time. And no matter how it might seem right now, kiddo, this battle isn’t actually over.”
Gladys grinned. “So, stop sniveling about my death and go do what you do best—fight for right, protect my people, and kick bad guy ass.”
CHAPTER 75
WE WERE BACK AT THE EMBASSY. It was hard to tell Gower that he’d now lost his aunt as well as his brother. It was harder to tell everyone else.
White managed it, of course, because he’d been managing horrible things like this since well before the A-Cs had been exiled to Earth. Once the news was out, White had sequestered himself and Gower, doing Pontifex stuff, which I presumed meant White was prepping Gower for how to hold it together during Michael’s funeral which was now the day after tomorrow.
Chuckie had Dier, Darryl the Airbender, Kozlow, and the guy Gladys had tossed out of the chopper in custody. They were in the containment center under the Pentagon, and, despite complaints from the F.B.I., Homeland Security, and the rest of the C.I.A., only Mom or Chuckie, and whoever they chose to bring along, were allowed access.
The prisoners were in Magneto Level cells, but so far, no one had gotten anything much out of them. Jeff and Christopher were due to go over with Mom, Chuckie, and a Polaroid camera to see what they could get. But first we had to make sense of what had happened at Guantanamo.
Uncle Mort had insisted on this because he wanted to be sure Mom had all the pertinent details and he wanted to hear anything he’d missed as well. I’d backed him up on doing this right away, because there were things I wanted to be sure we considered before I headed a commando raid into Gaultier.
Mom had agreed with both of us. Jeff had insisted that he wanted all Embassy staff, Alpha, and Airborne, other than White and Gower, in attendance as well. Jeff, Christopher, Mahin and I were all filthy, though, and the rest of the team wasn’t looking too much better. So everyone was given an hour to get bathed and changed, Mahin and Uncle Mort were assigned rooms, and everyone cleaned up.
Dad was at the Embassy staying with Jamie, who was happy to see us, but not as happy as we were to see her. We didn’t have as long a family reunion as either Jeff or I would have liked, but it was a better reunion than the Gowers were getting to have. Forced myself not to think about that while we were with Jamie, difficult though it was.
An hour later, give or take, we were all packed into the conference room like a group of well-dressed sardines, Hacker International attending via video conferencing.
Like me and all the other women, Mahin was now in the Standard Female Armani Fatigues of black slim skirt and white oxford, Fluffball on her shoulder. The clothes and Poof looked natural on her. She was actually kind of huddling next to me, which was understandable, even though no one had accused her of anything, not even via their expressions, not even Naomi or Abigail.
Pierre had provided a lovely drinks and snacks arrangement, which was great since it was well past dinnertime and many of us hadn’t eaten for hours before that. I did my best not to shovel the fruit, veggies, dip, cheese, and chocolate into my mouth, but it took effort.
Food and drinks at everyone’s place, we rolled into our recap. I covered why I’d gone with Gladys, Jeff covered why he and the others had come after us, Uncle Mort and Reader shared what they’d found at the computer center, and Chuckie finished up with what they’d done with the various prisoners, the ones we cared about and the others. We played Gladys’ farewell message for everyone.
“Mort and I had the prisoners searched, of course,” Chuckie said, probably to break the sad silence in the room after the video finished up. He slid four small disks onto the table. “The four we have in maximum lockup all had these on them. The prisoners who were in Guantanamo originally didn’t.”
“At least it wasn’t in them.” Got the usual WTF looks. Heaved a sigh. “These are small. I’m amazed our enemies aren’t installing them inside their operatives like how we all used to be tagged for the American Centaurion Herd Protection Program.”
Chuckie’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a good point. We’ve lost all the data on these, of course, but I wonder if there’s something toxic to humans or A-Cs, or both, in the metal.”
“Not that we’ve found yet,” Serene said. “But then again, they’ve been almost impossible to examine past the shell.”
“That would make sense,” Jeff said. “Because I’m with Kitty—why not at least put them under the skin if they’re harmless? We’d have a harder time finding them, not to mention there’s less risk of loss.”
“Maybe they think we’ll figure out how to destroy them, like they destroyed our chips,” Christopher said. “And theirs explode when you try to open them.”
“Good point. But they could make them with a non-explosive shell if they wanted to. Unless there’s a really good reason to have them remain outside of a body, and again, toxicity would be my guess, because it’s not like the bad guys ever seem to care about losing minions.”
“I wasn’t given one of those,” Mahin said. “I’ve never even seen one before, and I didn’t know there were things that could affect empaths until you mentioned it. If I understand everything that’s been going on correctly, I should have had one, shouldn’t I?”
“Yeah,” Jeff said. “You were on the front lines and I’ve been able to read you pretty clearly.”
Something was bothering me. Something small. But as with Algar or the Poofs or Jamie, small didn’t necessarily mean unimportant. Remembered that Jeff had said something about Mahin joining us and so had Gladys, and both had struck me as vital to explore. “You know, I wonder . . . why were we there and are we all here?”
Got a replay of all the WTF looks. Heaved a sigh but soldiered on. “By there I mean those of us who were at Guantanamo, and by here, I mean all of us, right here, as we are at this very moment.” Looked around. “None of you seem remotely shocked that Mahin’s got a Poof on her shoulder, or that we’re acting like she’s part of the team. She’s still feeling unsure of whether or not she fits in, but none of you seem even a little surprised.”
Tim shrugged. “We’re not. It’s what you do, why you got moved to Head of Recruitment.”
“Yeah,” Jerry said with a grin. “You find the talent, you do something that makes the talent realize you’re great and worthy of following, you recruit the talent, the talent says you’re da girl and sticks around. Sometimes the talent even marries in,” he added, with a wink for Joe and Randy. Lorraine and Claudia both chuckled.
“And she’s family,” Naomi said softly. Serene nodded.
“Right. So I have to go back to something that occurred to me when we were fighting Mahin the first time, in the desert. It seemed like her side hadn’t told her the truth—she thought they were all somewhere in the tunnel system, when they’d never even gone into it.”
“Some of them went into it,” Abigail pointed out.
“After they used gates to get out and across the country. Mahin thought they’d gone in at the Science Center.”
“Yes, they told me they were taking everyone underground and going to use special vehicles to get back to D.C. If I survived and won, I was to meet them at the coordinates I gave Mister Buchanan.”
“Not quite,” Buchanan said. “The location where she was to rendezvous was across the street from the Gaultier Research facility. I just took the logical step of figuring our enemies would be in t
he tunnels underneath versus actually out in the open.”
“How were you supposed to get across the country on your own?” Claudia asked.
“They told me how to work a gate. I was to go back to Area Fifty-One and either take a gate or commandeer a vehicle.” Mahin gave a weak smile. “It wasn’t a good plan, now that I share it aloud.”
“They used her,” Reader pointed out. “So? They do that all the time.”
“But why? Why lie to her? Why give her the coordinates but not the truth of the rest? Did they expect us to kill her? Naomi’s right, she’s family, but so was Ronaldo and it wasn’t like we were inviting him over for Arrival Day Dinner. And we didn’t know Mahin existed until this action. So why didn’t she get an emotional blocker or enhancer? Why wasn’t she told anything much? It’s as if they never figured she’d stick with them, like they knew she’d move over to the side of right somewhere along the way.”
Everyone looked at Mahin. She leaned a little closer to me. “I didn’t know any of you existed until the invasion, either. And I never suspected I was one of you, in that sense, until Ronaldo found me. I just thought I was different. My mother never told me who my . . . real father was. So how would anyone know what I would or wouldn’t do?”
“Research,” Chuckie answered. “They’ve known where you, and probably the others they’ve found, were. Potentially for years. And they studied all of you and extrapolated likely reactions. Well in advance of this action.”
“My guess, by the way, is that Ronald Yates kept a Little Black Book of all his sexual conquests, either because he was just that kind of man, or because he wanted to be sure to be able to find his offspring easily.”
“Then why wait until now to find them?” Claudia asked.
“And before you say they wanted to wait until he was dead,” Lorraine added, “he’s been dead for over three years now.”
