by SL Huang
“Celibate marriage, I got it,” said Checker, so fast the words ran together.
Mama Lorenzo refocused on her niece. “Isabella, I do not think this a prudent sacrifice on your part. I am unsure of the wisdom of allowing it.”
“I have responsibilities to our family too, Auntie. You taught me that.”
“You cannot let this go?”
Isabella lifted her chin. “I cannot let you ruin a man’s life for the crime of being with me. You taught me about honor, too.”
Mama Lorenzo’s expression crumpled, half anguish and half fierce pride. “Oh, my child,” she said, holding out her arms. Isabella’s lip trembled, and this time she threw herself into her aunt’s embrace. They buried their faces against each other and didn’t let go.
Holy crap. It was over.
I couldn’t believe it was over.
The adrenaline rushed out of me, leaving my legs like jelly. I leaned one hip against a table to keep from falling over while I stuck the Browning back into my belt.
“So, we’re, uh, we’re doing this, then, huh?” Checker was shifting a lot in his chair, his expression twitching. He threw me a look I could only describe as begging for help.
I sidled up next to him, stepping around the still-embracing-slash-weeping aunt and niece. Now that we were in the clear, I thought it was more than my due to take the mickey out of him a bit. “I think you’re getting off easy,” I said, sotto voce. “Isabella seems like a nice girl.”
He grabbed at my sleeve. “I’ll be living with a college student,” he moaned. “College students throw parties. With frat boys. I hate frat boys. And I’ll be under the Mafia’s microscope, for years. I’ll be living with a wife I’m too afraid to flirt with and won’t be able to date anyone else because they’d kill me. For years! Help me!”
I thought this might be a fine time to reveal I’d almost bit the big one for his little screw-up at least three times now, but I didn’t have the heart. “She’s giving up a lot, too,” I pointed out instead. “It’s awfully nice of her to stick her neck out for you.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know. I’ll buy her very expensive gifts on our anniversaries.”
“In all seriousness, you are getting off easy.”
“I know. I know.”
I stood with him and contemplated Mama Lorenzo and her niece for a moment. Something tickled the back of my brain, the germ of a thought—she might not go for it, but maybe it was worth asking? And a different conclusion here would make both Checker and Isabella—and, by extension, Mama Lorenzo—a lot happier about the way this turned out…
“As a matter of fact,” I said to Checker. “I might have another idea.”
He sat up spastically, grabbing at my arm again. “Seriously, I will owe you forever if you—”
I shook him off. “You already owe me forever. Just think about who you’re sleeping with next time, okay?”
“I promise, seriously, lesson learned, I’m already a better person.”
“Madame Lorenzo,” I called. “It’s possible I have a preferable solution.”
CHAPTER 33
I STOOD on Mama Lorenzo’s right hand in a room at her estate, slightly behind her. She’d changed into a very severe black dress, its harsh lines emphasizing the angles of her body, and wore her usual stiletto heels, meaning my eye line was at the back of her upper arm. It didn’t matter: the men in the room still shifted and avoided making eye contact with me. I’d achieved the status of a legend.
The sniper was the only one to glance at me, the ghost of a grin twitching his lips. He lounged on the arm of a chair, an ice pack held to his head where I’d kicked him. I’d learned his name was Malcolm; once Mama Lorenzo had pulled away from comforting her niece, she’d been quite concerned with making sure he was all right.
I was glad I hadn’t killed him. This wouldn’t really have worked if I had.
Mama Lorenzo clasped her hands behind her back and began pacing the carpet, her heels making no sound in its richness. Every eye followed her. “Gentlemen. I believe most of you have met Cas Russell.”
Feet shuffled. I saw several frowns of confusion, but no whispering. No one would disrespect Mama Lorenzo that way.
“To those of you who have always been loyal to me, I apologize for the deception. Miss Russell has been helping me run a test. Distasteful, but it had to be done.” She stopped pacing, lifting her head to look down at them. “Those of you who have always been one hundred percent loyal to this family may leave the room at this time.”
Malcolm stood lazily and went to let himself out. Another man, one I hadn’t seen before, paused for a breath, glanced at his brethren, and then followed.
A small smile touched Mama Lorenzo’s mouth. “Telling.”
“It’s not that we…” started one of the men who had remained, wetting his lips. “We’re loyal. All of us. You gotta believe us.”
I recognized him. He was the overweight man with the greasy hair from Grealy’s. He’d told me a whole hell of a lot. Which I had in turn told Mama Lorenzo.
“If your loyalty is as you claim, then find the door,” said Mama Lorenzo, her voice as unthreatening as a knife against a whetstone.
The man shifted from foot to foot. “I don’t know what she’s told you—”
“A wise choice, Mr. Paretti. If you had tried to exit you would already be dead.”
The room went silent. I picked Weasel Face out of the crowd too, and the young guy who’d been with them, the one who’d reminded me of Benito. And, of course, Benito himself, whose eyes were darting in panic and who looked like he was about to break and start running any minute now. Probably a lot of the other people here were some of the ones who had been fingered in the Grealy’s trio’s little confessional to me as working against the Family, or implicated by their SIM cards, or men I hadn’t had anything on but who simply didn’t know if or how their guilt might have been ferreted out.
“I have seen into your souls,” said Mama Lorenzo. “I know your desires. You all love this family. But that love must come before anything. Before everything. The Family will always protect you. And you must always protect it.”
Silence.
“Miss Russell,” Mama Lorenzo said without looking at me, “I thank you for your services to my family. I am sure we shall speak again.”
I recognized a dismissal when I heard one. I nodded at the room in what I hoped was an authoritative sort of way and pushed out the door. Behind me, Mama Lorenzo’s clear contralto started to address her people again.
I found my way through the maze of an estate, out the front door, and up the curving driveway to the gate. Malcolm was leaning against the stonework next to it, dragging on a cigarette.
“Smoke?” he asked.
“No, thanks.” I stood for a minute. I felt like I should say something to him, but “You were the competent one of the bunch, sorry for kicking you in the head except not really because you were trying to kill me” seemed a touch too silly.
“Mighty fine spinner, the Madre,” he murmured.
I squinted at him. He’d been unconscious when I’d first broached the idea for this plan, and when Mama Lorenzo and I had hashed out the details back at the estate, he hadn’t been in the room. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing.” He flashed me a quick smile and took another long drag, blowing the smoke into the sky.
“You don’t believe she was running a loyalty test?” I tried to keep my tone indifferent.
“I know how the Family works,” he said, with an enigmatic smile.
I gave up on trying to get a straight answer out of him. “Is there going to be a lot of carnage from this?”
“Nah. They’re all family. Family gets second chances with the Madre. Not thirds, though—it’s what makes her so good.” He took one last drag and stubbed out his cigarette on the stonework behind him. Then he pushed off the wall and looked down at me. “I owe you. I’d prefer to clear the debt sooner rather than later.
”
“What?” I said, startled. “I kick your ass twice, and you owe me? How does that work?”
“You didn’t kill me,” he said. “If some future circumstance puts us on opposite sides, I’ll want the ledger to be even.”
“Oh, come on, not killing you wasn’t—I’ve got this friend who—and I’d had a really bad—” I gave up. “You don’t owe me.”
“Unfortunately, you saying so doesn’t make it true.” He gave me a nod and started past me, heading back toward the house, then paused. “The Madre will feel the same, you realize. She may not tell you so, but if she caused you some insult—and what happened here leads me to believe she may feel she did—you will mistreat her greatly if you do not ask her some favor that evens the scales.”
“Wait,” I said. My head spun, and it wasn’t from all my recent injuries. “You’re saying that—she thinks she owes me a favor? And she’ll get mad at me if I don’t ask her for something?”
He lifted one shoulder slightly and let it fall. “The Madre does not often feel regret. When she does, it is in everyone’s best interests to make sure she does not feel it for long.”
“Ah—I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. “Thanks.”
He loped back toward the house, and I stared after him. Mama Lorenzo owed me a favor. I had no idea what to make of that.
Gravel crunched outside the gate, and Arthur pulled up. He must’ve talked to Checker, I thought, who had gone to drive Isabella back to her campus. Apparently Checker had scooped her up the instant she’d set foot back in LA, and had received Arthur’s frantic call just in time to draw the right conclusions and come save us all from a point of no return.
I hit the inside button to open the gate, and the iron bars slid slowly open to let me out. I left my stolen truck parked on the road and got into Arthur’s passenger seat. “How long have you been waiting?”
He grunted, guiding the car away and starting down the twisting slope.
“Are you mad?” I asked.
“What do you think? You go in there injured, you almost get yourself killed—if Checker wasn’t a phone-tracking genius who ran a zillion lights trying to get to you—”
“Hey, it’s him you should be angry at,” I protested. “This whole thing was his fault.”
“Can be mad at both of you at once,” Arthur retorted. “But Jesus and Mary, Russell, you could’ve talked to us. Told us what was happening. Maybe we could’ve gotten Isabella back here sooner or something. You got people who’ll help you.”
I supposed that once Checker had asked me to look into this, I hadn’t even told him much of anything about the escalating danger. I wasn’t used to having…people. “Sorry.”
“Turned out okay, luckily for you. And Checker.” He sighed. “You two gonna give me a heart attack someday. And speaking of, in the future you gotta tell me if Checker gets into any sort of trouble, okay? It’s important.”
I tried to get comfortable in the seat with my many, many bruises and the goddamn broken arm, which throbbed like—well, like I’d been shot. “I didn’t think it would go this far,” I admitted. “He asked me not to mention it, and I thought—”
“Just trust me on this one,” said Arthur. “Checker, he got a history. Sometimes he needs protecting. From himself.”
“He’s an adult,” I said. “You’re not his dad.”
Arthur twitched at my word choice. “Ain’t mean I can’t look out for him.”
He drove us back to Miri’s place. The day had lapsed into afternoon, and Denise, Pilar, and Checker were all busy on laptops.
“I want them out of LA by tomorrow,” I said, pointing at the two women. “What’s the word from Tegan?”
“Yeah, we’re not going,” said Pilar, not looking up.
“This isn’t a discussion,” I said.
“You’re right.” Her head popped up from her laptop. “It’s not. If they arrest me, I’d rather fight it here than run somewhere where I’d never be able to get back in touch with anyone ever again. My folks are too important to me, and—and we didn’t do anything wrong, either of us. Well, maybe I did a little bit wrong by talking to you and running that program for you at Arkacite, but we’re not the people responsible for everything else.”
“I’m glad you have such a well-developed sense of your own innocence, but the authorities—”
“I’ll take my chances,” said Pilar.
I turned to Denise. “And what about you?”
She was slower in answering. “Why should I run? I haven’t done anything wrong, either.”
“Like that means a damn thing!” I said. “If they want to find something, they’ll find it. People are looking for someone to blame right now, and you’re the one who created the robots—you’re right at the top of everyone’s shit list!”
“And maybe I should be!” retorted Denise. “Maybe I should have turned myself in from the beginning. I—maybe this was partly my fault; my hard drive was stolen right before all this started, and…”
Oops.
“…and maybe that was Funaki or Vikash. But I couldn’t have been the original leak; there wasn’t time. I should have known right away, but I was afraid—and Vikash was telling me—” She sniffed hard. “And I believed him! He was the one who warned me away. I should have turned myself in then, and maybe this all would have been avoided. Vikash wanted me to run, because it matched his plans!”
“He was right!” I said. “He told you to run because in his twisted mind you’re the only person he thinks deserves to get out of this. No matter what else he did, he was right about that!”
“Hitler liked sugar,” Checker piped up.
“Well, if he thinks I’m smart enough to—to spare, maybe I’m smart enough to stop him.” Denise lifted her chin stubbornly. “He has to answer for what he did. My team deserves justice. I can’t leave.”
I sank down on one of Miri’s chairs. God save me from stupid, headstrong civilians. Not that I wouldn’t have gone after Liliana with everything I had if I’d known where she was, but why did everyone else have to be as much of a moron as I was? “I don’t know what you want us to do,” I said.
“Find Vikash,” answered Denise promptly. “Turn him over to the authorities. I’ll be able to decipher his programming and testify against him.”
“If you go in to testify, they’ll still probably be scared enough to bury you, too,” I said.
“I know,” she answered, after only a slight hesitation. “It’s—okay.”
“Can hook you up with a good lawyer,” offered Arthur in a murmur.
“Thank you,” said Denise.
“Idiots,” I said at the room, but the word wasn’t as vehement as I’d meant it to be. “Look, I don’t disagree with you. I’d like nothing better than to bash Agarwal’s head in.” And take back Liliana, and give her back to her father, and let at least one person in this bullshit mess of a case live out a peaceful, happy life. “But you might be asking the impossible here. How do you even expect us to locate him?”
“Well, there’s the ’bot-recognition program,” said Checker. “If you take a look at the math—”
“I can do that,” I said tiredly. I reached out my left hand for a laptop…and paused. “Wait a second. Denise.”
“Yes?”
The Agarwal robot’s words floated back to me, stunning me that I’d forgotten them. I supposed I’d been busy. “Agarwal, he said—he said you’d know how to find him.”
She glanced around at the rest of us as if seeking help. “But I don’t.”
“No, wait.” I searched my memory. “Not how. Where. He said you’d know where to find him.”
“I—I have no idea,” she said unhappily. “I’m sorry, but I think it must have been a joke. He used to say that to me when we were working, all the time, if he was frustrated, or if he was annoyed at the rest of the team. ‘If you need me, you know where to find me—on top of an active volcano.’ And I’d always say something like, ‘Yes, I’d rather be hik
ing in Hawaii, too.’ But that was sarcastic, obviou—”
“What if it wasn’t?” I said. “Agarwal is an arrogant son of a bitch and likes knowing he’s smarter than everyone else. What if he literally was building himself a base on top of—” I pointed at Checker. “Active volcanoes in Southern California. Talk to me!”
Pilar spoke up first, typing rapidly. “There are some off Route 66, up north in the Mojave Desert. It looks like they’re a tourist attraction—”
Checker and Denise were also scrambling at their laptops. “Coso Volcanic Field,” said Checker. “It’s far, though, up past Bakersfield—”
“Oh, God,” said Denise, staring in shock and horror at her screen. “Mammoth.”
Pilar frowned. “The ski mountain?”
“It’s in the caldera of a supervolcano. I never, I never knew that…” She sounded stunned.
“You mean like Yellowstone?” said Pilar.
“I’ve got it, too,” said Checker. “It says here it’s one of the highest potential seismic threats in California, and if it erupts it’ll be a thousand times more powerful than Mount St. Helens. Holy—holy crap.”
“That’s where he is,” said Denise.
“That’s a hike, too, though,” objected Checker. “If he’s been building some supervillain base—”
“It’s not that far,” said Denise. “I take weekend skiing trips there all the time. Lots of LA people do.”
“That’s true,” Pilar put in. “I don’t even ski, and I know that if you ask anyone what the best place to ski around here is they’ll say Mammoth. It’s really a volcano?”
“Supervolcano,” said Checker. “It looks like the last eruption buried thousands of square miles. The entire western United States.”
“You gotta be kidding me,” said Arthur.
“Well, it’s not a serious worry or anything; it hasn’t erupted in the better part of a million years and probably won’t erupt for a million more, at least not…not left to its own devices…”
