Ariel turned out to be an eloquent speaker. Her conviction and confidence was impressive, even if she did still say like too much. She had just explained to the council what she had previously explained to me, except in greater detail. Once again, the teenage girl sort of disappeared, and all of a sudden there was this brilliant tactician in her place, making her presence felt.
She was a strange kid.
Despite Ariel’s reassurances that this was all for the best, I still felt bad for her. A girl that age should be going to college, hanging out with friends, not making life-or-death decisions and weighing the fate of the world.
“It’s unfair, getting robbed of her childhood,” I whispered to Ling.
My girlfriend smirked at me. At that age Ling had already been conscripted into the Chinese army to fight in their civil war. She didn’t even have to say anything.
“Yeah,” I agreed. Compared to Ling I’d had it easy. When I was about Ariel’s age, I had been in the Air Force. “Never mind.”
Ariel was still making points. Her skills as an orator would have given any politician a run for his money, but it was a tough sell. She was arguing that Exodus should focus all of its present efforts on stopping Katarina Montalban and preventing Project Blue from happening, whatever that entailed. Only Exodus was—by legal definition at least—a terrorist organization. And though they were absolutely committed to stopping evil, righting wrongs, and all that good stuff, they had just gotten their asses kicked at the Crossroads.
She was trying to convince them that Project Blue, if allowed to continue, would set in motion a chain of events that would end with the deaths of millions and possibly trigger a major war. Only she seemed unwilling or unable to get into the specifics of how this was going to come about.
Our host, Sir Matthew, was one of the dissenters. He was one of those distinguished, proper English gentlemen types. I barely knew the guy, but I had a hard time imagining how somebody who looked and sounded like he did had risen through the ranks of a secret vigilante army that spent most of its time blowing up warlords and freeing slaves, unless he’d had some swanky James Bond thing going on in his youth.
“My Lady, we all appreciate your conviction, but you must consider our position. We lost a significant percentage of our strike steams at the Crossroads. Word about the battle has gotten out. There are rumors of it on the Internet, satellite photos showing the damage to the dam and the resulting flooding. We have attracted the unwanted attention of the world’s law enforcement and intelligence agencies. It is my belief, and has been the belief of the Council, that our best course is to take some time to collect ourselves and recover from our losses.”
Ariel glared at him. “You mean retreat? Go into hiding? Give up on the work because of a setback?”
“No, child, I don’t mean retreat.” Ariel’s eyes narrowed at being addressed as child, but Sir Matthew either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “It’s more of a strategic realignment. We are operationally limited right now. We need time to recover, recruit, and train. When we are ready, we shall reenter the fray from a position of strength.”
“There is no time! None of you seem to understand this. We are out of time. Project Blue is happening now. Katarina Montalban isn’t going to wait while we sit in the corner and lick our wounds.”
“You are being impetuous. Exodus has survived for centuries because we have operated in the shadows. That has become increasingly difficult. Yes, many powerful people have known about us, but have allowed our work to proceed because we were doing the things that they could not, things which their governments lacked the stomach to do. One slipup now, while we are so weak, could mean the end of us.”
An Exodus councilwoman, hailing from India from the accent, spoke up from the screen. “We’ve all read the projections of the Oracle.” From the look on Ariel’s face, I could tell she thought her designation was absurd. “We know that Project Red, whatever the specifics were, was an American operation to destabilize China.”
“We don’t know that,” another council member protested. He had a slight Canadian accent. “Mr. Valentine provided that information.” That was the first time I’d been recognized in this little shindig. “There’s no way of proving that the journals of this Colonel Hunter are genuine, and even if they are, there’s no way of knowing if he was correct in his assessment. We’re making far too many assumptions for my taste.”
At least he didn’t cast any aspersions on my character. Considering how much blood I’d spilt and shed on their behalf, that was nice.
The Indian woman protested. “The Oracle has made it clear that—”
“The Oracle was the one who said we should go into the Crossroads in the first place! Have we not had enough of her mystical nonsense? Have enough of our people not died because of her?”
The councilwoman from India looked aghast. “James, please. Things didn’t go exactly as planned, but—”
“No, it’s okay.” Ariel raised a hand, and the Indian woman fell silent. “He has a right to speak his mind. Go ahead. Tell us how I screwed up everything.”
“As I was saying, on her advice we went into the Crossroads, and how many people did we lose to that butcher? I admit that our so-called Oracle has been right on many occasions, but on this one, she was spectacularly wrong, and we paid for her error in blood.”
That was remarkably impolite for a Canadian. I kept waiting for him to say sorry.
Another councilman chimed in. His accent was thicker than the others, some kind of Spanish. “I agree with our colleague. Will we continue to place stock in this, this nonsense? She may be brilliant, but she is still human. Her advice to concentrate on the Crossroads led us to disaster.”
Ariel looked up at the screens, her face a mask, in silence. She lowered her gaze and looked at me briefly, as if considering what to say next. She nodded to herself, looked up again, and spoke. “The councilman says that I was spectacularly wrong. Was I? Did I say that the operation in the Crossroads would go as planned? Did I say we would not suffer casualties? No. I warned you not to underestimate Sala Jihan, and I had no role in the tactical planning or execution of the operation.”
“So you’ll lay the blame on Ibrahim?” Sir Matthew snapped.
“Of course not. He did the best he could. I simply told you what most of you already knew, Sala Jihan is a force for evil in this world, thousands die in his mines every year, and that he had to be stopped.”
“But we failed,” Sir Matthew insisted. “Now we are unable to conduct other missions, missions that could save lives, in other places in the world.”
“We did not fail!” Ariel insisted, raising her voice, her hands balled into fists. “Sala Jihan lives, yes, but the Crossroads are gone. His mines are flooded. It will be years before he can regain the power he’s lost. It’s not the ideal outcome, just as it wasn’t the ideal outcome the last time Exodus took him on. We suffered major losses then, too, but Sala Jihan was left impotent and powerless. It took him six decades before he showed his face again.”
I had no idea what she was talking about. Sixty years? Lorenzo had met the warlord in person, but he’d not described him as old.
Taking a deep breath, Ariel looked directly at the portion of the screen that displayed the Canadian’s image. “Had anyone told me about making an alliance with the Montalban Exchange, I would have advised them to abandon the mission altogether. I could have told you that was going to end badly. And, if you remember, I was the one who said Michael Valentine was important. I was the one who said we needed him. If not for his leadership, the effort at the dam would have also failed, and the whole mission really would have been for nothing.”
The council remained silent for a moment. I was awkwardly looking at the floor. I knew Ariel was playing up my role in the battle for the dam to get her point across, but it still made me uncomfortable.
Ariel shifted her intense gaze across all of the faces on the big screen. Her eyes reflected the light of the screen and s
eemed to burn with a blue fire. “You think I didn’t predict the cost? You think I haven’t felt every single loss? None of you hurt as badly as I did. None of you.”
Ling had told me that Ariel had gone nearly catatonic when the results of the battle came in. They’d even called Dr. Bundt in because they were afraid she would try to kill herself. She had retreated to her room, barely eating, not coming out for over a month.
Today, though, Ariel was resolute. “But that doesn’t matter now. The work has to continue, even if we suffer losses, even if we have setbacks, even if we fail. There’s too much at stake to stop. You all know this. If we don’t do it, no one will. People will suffer without hope. For this operation, we don’t need a bunch of soldiers. We can get by with a few volunteers, but from the organization we need logistical and intelligence support. I can’t see for certain what will happen if we attempt this, but I do know what will happen if we do nothing. So please, let’s not give up now. Too much is at stake. Authorize the mission.”
“No.” the Canadian said.
“I agree, no!” said the Spanish-speaker. “Young lady, we’ve had enough of your fortune telling. Am I the only one who sees it? Are we so blinded by her that we don’t realize what we’re doing? We’re letting this American girl have a say in life-or-death decisions while a thousand miles from the action. She’s clearly out of her depth, and quite possibly out of her mind.”
The Indian woman tried to defend Ariel again. “Marco, the Oracle—”
The Canadian cut her off. “Enough of this talk of oracles! Enough! This has gone on for too long. It’s time to put the adults back in charge. She doesn’t know anything. She’s no gift from God. She’s a charlatan who’s been fooling us all along!”
Ling looked at me with a worried expression on her face. This was not going well, and it was pissing me off. I started to step forward, but Ling put a hand on my arm. “You won’t help here,” she said quietly.
I stopped. Ling was right. I was an outsider.
Ling stepped forward, as if to say something, but before she could, Ariel balled her hands into fists and shouted. “I don’t know anything, you say?” she asked, looking up at the screens. “James, I know about that torrid little affair you’re having with your secretary, and that the only reason your wife hasn’t left you is because of your money.”
Too bad the image was blurred, because I imagined the look on his face would be priceless.
“Matthew,” she said, addressing the Englishman in the room, “I know you haven’t yet found the courage to come out to your family. Believe me, it’s the twenty-first century, nobody cares.”
Sir Matthew looked aghast, but didn’t say anything.
“The clues are everywhere. It isn’t my fault the rest of you are too stupid to put things together. All I have ever done,” Ariel said, her small voice booming with conviction, “is give you people the best advice that I could. It was you who sought me out! It is you who came to me with your questions! The half-baked mysticism came from you guys. All this oracle talk is your words, not mine.”
Ling looked me in the eye, and stepped forward, until she was in view of the screens. Dressed in fatigue pants, a t-shirt, and combat boots, she looked out of place in the luxurious office. “I think it’s a sad day when this exalted council seeks to blame its failures on a mere advisor,” she said coldly.
Sir Matthew seemed taken aback. “Ms. Song, I’ve allowed you to watch these proceedings, but I’m afraid I must ask you to—”
Ariel cut him off. “Let her speak! She’s been there for all of this, while you’ve been reading about it from the safety of your offices afterwards.”
Ling gave Ariel a really nasty scowl, and I think the little genius realized that she was being a hypocrite, and shut up. They might have been on the same side of this debate, but Ling was a whole lot more hands-on.
Ling spoke softly. I was pretty sure she did that on purpose, not through any sort of meekness—trust me, not an issue—but rather because it forced everyone to listen carefully. “I was involved in the planning of the Crossroads operation. The decision to meet with the Montalban Exchange was made by the commanders in the field. Ariel had no part in those discussions. We had our reservations, but given the situation, we made the best judgment call that we could.”
“Your call cost hundreds of lives!” Marco insisted.
“I was there,” Ling said coldly. “We made a gambit and it failed. I accept responsibility for my decisions. Ariel was not wrong about Sala Jihan. Having seen his operation firsthand, I can tell you that it was even worse than you can imagine. His reach was expanding daily, as more innocents died or were enslaved, and—as is our mission—we rushed to stop it. Our greatest failing was, I believe, in moving too soon. I point this out to this council, because the timetable for the operation was your decision, not Ariel’s.”
The council had no immediate response to that.
Ling continued. “I do not know how this girl knows the things she does. God help me, she’s tried to explain it to me, and I’m still unsure. But she is right more often than she is wrong. So here we are, with this esteemed council calling her a false prophet on one hand, yet denouncing her for not foreseeing everything on the other. Is this what defeated Exodus has become? Is this how we honor our fallen, by trying to assign the blame to someone who was not there?”
“The situation is more complicated than you know,” Marco said. “Katarina Montalban is a very well-connected woman, above the law, who now has total control of one of the most powerful organized crime groups in the world. She hasn’t forgotten about us. Ever since the Crossroads, international authorities have been haunting our steps, breathing down our very necks. We’ve been subjected to countless cyberattacks and attempts to steal our information. Safe houses have been compromised, and many of our suppliers have gotten nervous and have severed ties. Our connections in national governments advise us to go to ground for a time, stay off the radar, especially in Europe. And in the midst of this, after suffering the biggest defeat in generations, with unprecedented assaults on our operation from every angle, you propose we try to take the Montalban woman head on?”
“That is exactly what I propose,” Ling stated. “Was I not clear?”
Ariel butted in. “I’m aware of all of that stuff, Marco. You think I’m naïve, but I understand what’s at stake way better than any of you do.”
“You are not helping now,” Ling muttered under her breath. Then she addressed the council again. “Katarina Montalban is a psychopath, an unstable, amoral, ruthless psychopath, who has been given the keys to Armageddon. Apparently Project Red destroyed my country and caused the death of millions. If we let such evil proceed unchecked again, then everything Exodus stands for will mean nothing.”
Ariel spoke up one last time. “If we don’t find a way, no one will.” Without another word, she turned her back on the council and stormed out of the room.
After some searching I found Ariel in her room.
“Go away!” she demanded when I knocked on the door.
“It’s me, kiddo,” I said, leaning in close to the heavy wooden door. Music loudly thumped from the other side. She didn’t answer, but after a moment the door opened. She didn’t say anything after opening the door; she just went back to her bed and sat down. It was obvious she’d been crying.
Cautiously, I sat down next to her, and looked around, trying to think of what to say. Her room was cluttered and messy, but smelled nice. Scented candles were burning on her dresser. A couple strands of Christmas lights were tacked to her ceiling, giving the room soft, moody lighting. Band posters decorated her walls. Of course I didn’t recognize any of them. Wrinkled clothes were piled in a heap by the wall. An electric guitar and a small amp sat in one corner, next to a TV and a Playstation.
“The council voted no,” I told her.
“There was an eighty-two percent chance that they would, but I got my hopes up anyway. What are you going to do?”
&nbs
p; “What I have to.” I wasn’t going to back down, and Ling was pissed. “Could you turn that down?” I could barely hear myself think over the racket of her music. It sounded like little girls singing heavy metal, but I think it was in Japanese.
“Okay, grandpa,” she said, tapping a little remote control. The music volume went down to where I could hear her talk.
“Thank you. I’ve been around a lot of gunfire. My hearing’s not so great.”
“What do you want?” she snipped. After a second, her expression softened. “I’m sorry, Michael. I don’t mean to be bitchy to you.”
“No, it’s okay. You have good reason to be upset. A bunch of grown-ass men are blaming a bad op against a bloodthirsty warlord on a teenage girl. It’s ridiculous and they should be ashamed of themselves.”
She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “They’re not wrong, you know. I didn’t see everything. I didn’t know how badly the Crossroads would go.”
“Will you listen to yourself? You told me you’re not psychic. How in the hell do they expect you to predict the future, then? Don’t listen to them. It’s probably been a long time since any of them have gotten their hands dirty, if ever. It’s easy for them to second-guess you.”
“I know, but . . .”
“No buts. I’ve made decisions that have gotten people killed. It’s the nature of the beast in this business. You can either forgive yourself for not being perfect or you can let it eat at you until you’re paralyzed. Either way, it doesn’t change the past or bring back the dead. And, honestly? Sometimes, you do everything right, and still lose. Sometimes, even if you win the fight, good people still die. Turn left instead of turn right, die. I don’t care how good you are, you’re not going to predict that. You guys, you’re fighting a war, right? This is war. People die in war, even if you win every battle and execute every operation perfectly. There’s no getting around it.”
Alliance of Shadows (Dead Six Series Book 3) Page 9
