Sons (Book 2)

by Scott V. Duff

  “A very nice start, General Harmond,” Kieran said smiling with him, surprising Barnett and Harmond and deflating their egos. Considering the numbers Harmond quoted, I had to agree with Kieran, though.

  “A start? That’s nearly a thousand people! How can that be just a start?” Harmond asked desperately.

  “Because it’s only a thousand people, General,” Kieran said calmly. “Not nearly enough to even cover this country, much less any of the other countries involved with attacks of this kind. Further, from the speed of their capture, I would suggest that most of these men were low-ranking and easily located, showing that they are somewhat disposable to someone. Disposable implies numerous or rapidly replaceable.”

  “That doesn’t mean that it’s not productive, though, General Harmond,” Peter added. “You are saving innocent lives by doing this, and some not so innocent.”

  “And I dare say the AWOL men are dead somewhere in upstate New York,” I said coyly.

  Kieran barked a laugh, saying, “Yes, probably,” and nodding.

  “So we’re going about this the wrong way,” Barnett said, disgruntled.

  “Not entirely,” I said consolingly. “Just slowly. It’s like chopping off the bottom of a pyramid with a machete. We’ll get there, but we’ll go through a few machetes first.”

  “Then perhaps we’re going at the problem the wrong way,” Cpt. Thorn said, the second aide who had been as quiet as Ethan so far. His deep tan and strong arms marked him as a sportsman of some kind but the paunch around his middle either said too much beer or too much time in front of a television or monitor. He had dark blue eyes with a light brown hair that could have been blond when he was younger. Turning to Kieran, he asked, “You said ‘rapidly replaceable’. How are they being recruited?”

  “We’re not precisely sure,” Kieran answered.

  “We do know some things about it, though,” I said thoughtfully, following Thorn’s reasoning. “Each man has similar qualities. They’ve all been tormented in some way by something of magical origins or intimately know someone who was. That gives them a deep, abiding hatred of anything magical. Most have a severely deflated self-esteem, even a self-hatred in many cases. Generally they have a skewed morality that whoever is in charge preys on.”

  “What holds the secrets so deeply, Seth?” Kieran asked.

  “Well, the mind-lock is self-induced,” I said, remembering how Morelli’s looked. “A simple twisting of thoughts around a core spell involving three drops of blood if what I recall from Morelli is right. Anything more than that would probably cause a ward to shriek bloody murder.” Kieran’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Really?” he said. “Curious. General, may we have a look at your four drug testees?” Everyone to Kieran’s right started snickering and chortling. This might be a long morning.

  ~ ~ ~

  The first two were guards, Marine Corps sentries who watched secure hallways and doors, ideal for allowing access to the right places at times. The third was an Army captain in an accounting department. Technically, he didn’t have access to anything classified, but it wasn’t always difficult to get around computer passwords and stacks of signings from bored, trusting superior officers. The fourth was a Marine Corps captain in telecommunications. We were about to meet him.

  I found the whole “different services under one command” more than a little confusing. Yes, Harmond was a Brigadier General, but in the Army. His orders crossed boundaries of three other branches of the military. Obviously some Pentagon agreement in action, or something. Luck of our draw on missing the Navy, I guess, and Harmond hasn’t mentioned the Air Force or the National Guard at all. As curious as I found that, I didn’t feel obliged to mention it, which I also found curious. That made me wonder which of my brothers was suppressing the idea around the room. Of course, it could have been Thorn or Hanson. It was weak enough. I’d have to watch.

  Two Marine sergeants escorted Cpt. Bradley Anders with military courtesy and proficiency. Harmond had arranged us around the table so we presented a “normal” aspect to each man. Like the rest, the three of them came to attention in front of Harmond, snapping off a salute just like in the movies with perfect precision. For the sergeants, it was quite subconscious timing.

  “Please, Cpt. Anders, have a seat,” Harmond said after a sloppy salute, I thought anyway, and a hand wave to the opposite chair.

  Anders wasn’t a big man, rather lean and lithe, a runner by practice, which made him a loner. This gave his subconscious time to regularly bind his own magic down to near uselessness. He was one of those that the Earth just bubbled up from time to time, a natural talent but a small one. One that six of us sat up and noticed. Cpt. Thorn, then, it seemed, was my culprit, another with low-level ability. They couldn’t operate in this environment without throwing off sparks with more talent.

  “Cpt. Anders, we’ve called you here to talk—” Col. Barnett began to say, but he was interrupted.

  “He’s different from the other three,” Jimmy said suddenly, staring at Anders unfocused.

  “Very good, First,” Ethan said, turning and smiling at him. This was good, because Ethan was a little hard on him this morning and I didn’t need to be the only person showing support for him. “Yes, Cpt. Anders has more than one lock hidden away in there. One or two of them look a little nasty even.”

  “What do you mean?” Harmond asked.

  “He means that you’ve lucked up and hit a small jackpot,” Kieran said cheerfully as I formed a Faraday cage around Anders. He was following us fearfully as we spoke, head whipping around to each of us like a frightened dog. He’d grown suspicious during his time in the security offices and more nervous as he waited. Now he was panicking at the sight of a general and a colonel, even here.

  “You get the prize for the most boring code words of the four, captain,” I said, standing to lean on the table closer to him. “’Alaskan armadillo bush’? Not terribly imaginative.” His fears came to fruition as his code phrase released the prohibitions on his knowledge, more recently replaced than the others. “Yes, Cpt. Anders, I’m afraid that means you’ve been caught and being one of the more active members of that little group, I don’t think General Harmond and Colonel Barnett are going to be as lenient with you.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked quietly, looking up at me, appearing innocent and feeling it, almost. The complicity was just beginning to sink in.

  “You’ve been a busy little captain of late, haven’t you, Brad?” I asked, searching through his memory. “Yes, there, General, I think Cpt. Anders can explain your AWOL men perfectly. And you had a hand in my Guard as well.”

  “Your guards? I don’t understand. I don’t handle personnel. I deal with communications, the telephones, computer connections,” he said, “General Harmond, what’s going on here? I was told this was a routine random security clearance check.”

  “Not anymore, Captain Anders,” Harmond said brusquely. “At the moment, we’re investigating sedition, of which, as my young friend just pointed out, you are rather guilty.”

  “Don’t be too hard on him, General,” I said, choosing a mollifying tone. “He’s not even aware, yet, of everything he’s done.” Anders gaped at me, unspeaking for a moment.

  “I want an attorney,” he said finally.

  “Well, you can’t have one,” Barnett snapped, slapping his hand on the table hard, startling Anders.

  “He doesn’t like saying that,” I told Anders with a grin. “This is his fourth time, ever. Grates on his ethics as an attorney and an officer. Sworn to defend the Constitution and all, even though he knows you’ve broken both and would be hiding behind them to defend yourself. You have to respect that.”

  “But sedition? I haven’t done anything like that!” Anders argued, getting louder. “Or spying! I’m an American, for Christ’s sake! A patriot!”

  “And yet you’ve managed to send over a thousand phone calls, text messages, and e-mails, in the past three weeks to individuals you
don’t personally know through both the Pentagon systems and your personal phone and computers, as well,” I said. “Just admit it, Brad. Your locks won’t work anymore. I’ve broken them.”

  “But that’s not possible,” he whispered fearfully.

  “It’s done, Brad,” I said, chuckling as I went back to my chair. His own bindings would take care of his power and the locks were broken now, so I dropped the Faraday cage as useless. “Lt. Hanson, when you search his apartment, pay particular attention to his music collection and any corrupt files there. They contain decryption keys for several text files stored on-line at many different e-mail sites where lists are maintained by different operatives such as Cpt. Anders. If you move quickly and quietly, we may be able to remove more than one arm of our hydra.”

  Hanson scribbled notes on his pad, but looked up at me quickly, then to Barnett excitedly.

  “Go!” Harmond said hoarsely, flushing. It wasn’t quite as pleasing to Harmond and me as it was to Hanson. To him, this was an Ian Fleming novel coming to life, thrilling and exciting. To us, it was more people’s lives crashing and burning. Hanson ran out the door with Thorn following at a much slower pace. He came back with the two Marine sergeants. Just like the previous three times, they weren’t quite as friendly, but they had four friends with them in the hall carrying rifles in front of them.

  Thorn advised Anders that he was under arrest while one of the sergeants handcuffed him and the others surrounded him. Anders was shocked into numbness as they led him away to jail. Who would have thought the Pentagon had a jail, anyway?

  Kieran sighed heavily once we were alone again. “I think you’re both right,” he said. “It’s still worth it to pursue the foot soldiers, but we need to look for the head as well. I think the whole thing will collapse if we can remove the mission.”

  “The bindings are weak enough,” Ethan agreed. “Even he’s forgotten most of what he’d done until Seth reminded him.”

  “Does that excuse them?” Barnett asked, angry and harsh. Then taking a mocking tone, he said, “Oh, pardon me, I forgot that I killed those men. Please forgive me and thank you very much.” We understood his outrage, so we didn’t take it personally.

  “Jesse,” Harmond murmured quietly, trying to calm him.

  “That’s a very rare and extreme case, Colonel,” I said gently. “Most of them have only had thoughts. Admittedly violent thoughts, but… haven’t you? Think about sitting at home at night and listening to the evening news, hearing about a serial rapist as he terrorizes a city in the Southeast. You have a twenty-year-old daughter, right?” He looked up at me, suspicious, at her mention, but he understood where I was going. “You could entertain those thoughts, too. It’s in everyone, Colonel. There’s no shame in that. It’s knowing where to stop that makes it good or bad.”

  “Yeah,” Barnett muttered, looking away.

  “General Harmond, it appears that we both need time,” Kieran said. “We need time to consider another way to approach this issue, as Cpt. Thorn suggests, and you need time to muddle your way through Cpt. Anders records. How long would you like?”

  “I have no idea,” Harmond admitted, shrugging. “Until we have some idea of what we’re dealing with…”

  “Fair enough,” I agreed. “Have you chosen a liaison yet? I’m sure you can’t be at our beck and call any more than we can be at yours.”

  He hesitated a second, then said, “We were just beginning to prepare Cpt. Thorn and Lt. Hanson for the possibility of taking on that role, Mr. McClure, when we were informed that you were here. I even have an M-1 level instructor scheduled for this afternoon.”

  “In Jensen’s case, that might be redundant,” I said grinning. “That’s acceptable for now.”

  “You sure, Seth?” Peter asked, a coy smile forming. “That’s a hell of a downgrade, from colonel to captain. It’s almost like they’re not taking you seriously.”

  “Nyah,” I responded, ignoring the streaks of alarm running through the three military officers. “I’m not bothered much by rank, ya know. And Jensen doesn’t have our blood in his eyes or connections to black ops the way Echols did. We can give ‘em a try.”

  “Who are you people?” Thorn asked, finally breaking down in frustration.

  “You didn’t even get that far?” I asked Harmond, amused.

  “We’ve been very busy,” Harmond answered, almost laughing.

  “You heard me tell the children precisely who we are, Captain,” I said. “I wasn’t lying to them. Neither was Mitch. If you’ll provide us with contact information, I’ll have our assistant get in touch with you at sometime today and exchange more details with you. We are notoriously difficult to reach, traveling as we do.”

  “You’re really a faery king, then? With a Southern accent?” Thorn asked, doubtfully. He couldn’t see anything about us, after all.

  “’King’ is a fair approximation,” I answered. “I was talking to children. A card, perhaps?”

  “Oh, yes, sir,” he answered, reaching for his back pocket and pulling free a worn, thick wallet. Extracting several business cards, he leaned across to hand me one, then gave one to everyone else not in uniform to cover his bases.

  “Looks like he accepts the post, Sam,” Barnett said, watching as Thorn handed Jimmy and Peter his last two cards.

  “That it does, Jess,” Harmond said with a laugh.

  “Okay, I’m hungry. Anyone feel like pizza?” I asked. “Chicago’s open now…”

  Chapter 46

  “Dillon! Eyes on the road! You’re gonna get us killed!” Peter warned him sharply.

  “Sorry,” Dillon said casually. “But when you suggested a drive in the country, I thought we would take my car, not this leased land yacht.”

  “And where would Seth and First sit?” Peter asked. “We couldn’t fit even one of them into the boot of that car, now give it a rest, Dillon. Besides, I didn’t say a drive in the country. I asked you if you would show us a few properties on the outskirts of London.”

  “How long have you two been married?” Jimmy asked, trying to match the landscape to the map in his lap. “Ow!” Then he grinned and rubbed at the back of his head. I wasn’t watching to see what Peter had done, but it wasn’t too bad, obviously. I glanced up from the photos in time to see the small smile disappearing from Dillon’s face.

  “When did you become everybody’s whipping boy?” I asked Jimmy, shaking my head sadly.

  “I ain’t gonna beat your brothers up in front of you, Seth,” Jimmy said.

  “As if!” Peter sputtered in challenge from the front seat.

  “Besides, I get my licks in,” he said with a confident smile.

  “What does that mean?” Dillon asked chuckling to hide his confusion of the idiom and his jealousy.

  “Not that!” Peter said quickly, swatting his shoulder.

  “Ow!” Dillon cried, cringing. “When did you become so violent, anyway?”

  “Well, about fourteen months ago, I came home early from shopping, and found my then-boyfriend’s ass in the air—” Peter said pleasantly, but Dillon interrupted.

  “All right, all right, I get the picture,” he said grumpily.

  “This place looks as good as the last two on paper,” I said, sighing and closing the portfolio. “That’s depressing in comparison.”

  Dillon slowed the car to turn. “We’re almost there. What’s turned your mood so sour?”

  “Probably all the bickering,” commented Jimmy under his breath, covering it with folding the map. And he may have been right.

  “I dunno, too much on my mind, I guess,” I said, letting my head fall back on the headrest. “Or that I’ve already got perfectly good space dedicated to this purpose right there.” It’s just that nobody but us could get there.

  “Are we expected?” Dillon asked, slowing the car. “The gate is open.”

  “Yes, a Mr. Edmington, the land agent, is supposed to meet us at the house along with the current owner. I don’t know his name,” Pete
r said. “I got the impression they were quite anxious to sell.”

  “It does look a little wild on the upper eighty,” Jimmy said idly, looking out the window to the north.

  Dillon slowed the car as the house came into view on the first hill, a well kept three-story 18th Century manor house presented over a nicely designed lawn. The overgrowth and flaws showed as we got closer. Mostly unused and weathered, the house itself needed some work and from the structure underneath the minor damage, I didn’t think the house could be more than sixty years old. The oldest trees looked younger. Still, this wasn’t a deal breaker.

  As long driveways are wont to do, it ended in a circular turnabout in front of the house. Even this part of the yard hadn’t seen a caretaker in at least six months. Stopping the car behind two others with plenty of room to pull out, Dillon was the first to get out, trying desperately to show off and he felt like he was losing the battle. Jimmy’s feet hit the ground a few seconds after mine. He looked at me over the top of the car as he put his jacket on, eager as a puppy at the back door. I delayed sending out any feelers, like I did on the first two properties—well, pretty much everywhere we go. Now he wanted to try.

  “You do well enough at home,” I said, smiling as I put my jacket on, too. “Just remember there are people around and the first thing you’re looking for are things looking for you. Stealth is called for.”

  He grinned at me. Like sneaking up on your older brothers? He whispered across our link and winked. The house blossomed in my mind as Jimmy sent tendrils of probes out in very fine lines. By the time we walked up the front steps and to the front door, he had the house mapped with a hundred yards out. Details in the spacial mapping filled in the depths of the house a little more slowly as he moved more cautiously there.

  “Good,” I complimented him.

  “The patio is in good shape,” Peter said approaching from the right. Dillon walked up opposite him at almost the exact instant.