by Eileen Wilks
He kept his arm around her, just in case. “What happened?”
She rubbed her temple with one hand. “I learned what happens when I stretch too far.”
“Headache?”
She shook her head. “That only seems to happen with Mika. I’m tired, that’s all. Though it’s a funny kind of tired.” She frowned. “Maybe this is how it feels to be drained. Magically, I mean. Kind of like I stayed up all night writing reports.”
She wouldn’t have experienced that before, given the way her Gift operated—constantly soaking up magic without allowing her the use of it. Until now. “That seems reasonable. Your mindsense uses magic, so . . .” Rule’s voice drifted off. “I hope that’s Gandalf.”
The hoofbeats he’d heard slowed as the horse reached the trees, but the big Shire horse was still moving at an easy lope when he came into view—and what a sight that was, over a ton of horse loping up to the green with thirty pounds of brownie on his back. No tack, no saddle, but the little brownie seemed to have no trouble staying on.
The horse slowed and stopped just outside the green. Gandalf slid off, landing with her knees flexed, unfazed by dropping three times her height. Rule had known that brownies were incredible athletes. He hadn’t realized that old brownies were nearly as athletic as the gymnasts so often featured on their webcam.
“What’s all this about the webcam?” she said.
Immediately she was swarmed by the other brownies, all explaining at once. And arguing. This was why Rule hadn’t made his webcam appearance yet. Brownie governance was a slippery beast, but it was essentially a matriarchy. When it came to decisions affecting the whole community, everyone got to express an opinion. If most of them agreed, they went with that. When there was substantial disagreement, the great-mothers had the last word. The brownies had not been able to agree about putting Rule on the webcam, so they’d appealed to the great-mothers—who were all busy singing to Mika. Gandalf had agreed to come make the decision. She was the eldest, and besides, as one had explained, “She’s the bossiest anyway.”
Rule was still waiting for her to reach him so he could explain why he wanted to appear on the webcam when Gandalf waved a hand. “Enough. Bring the webcam. Let the wolf talk to the Big People. Maybe they’ll stop being stupid.”
One of the brownies was stubborn enough to say, “The government Big People will make trouble when they know he’s here.”
“The government Big People already intend to make trouble.” She stopped in front of Rule, scowling as much as she was capable of. “What is this they tell me about you wanting to bring guns into the reservation?”
That was the other thing he needed her permission for. He’d given Bert back a large chunk of the money Bert had brought him. The man was on his way back to the reservation now with three AK-47s and an Uzi. Even the mob couldn’t lay hands on more than that this fast. “The soldiers who come after Mika will have guns. We need guns to stop them. We won’t use them unless we have no choice, but—”
“No. No guns. We made an exception for Lilyu’s gun because Mika kidnapped her, gun and all, but no more guns. The youngsters would start playing the Game with them, and the next thing you know—”
“We would not let your youngsters get hold of them.”
She rolled her eyes. “Debitty, give the wolf back his phone.”
A very small brownie giggled and handed Rule the phone he didn’t know he was missing. He checked to make sure it hadn’t been turned on and put it back in his pocket.
“You see?” she said. “No guns.”
“These guns are much larger than a phone.” He indicated the size with his hands. “Your youngsters are very good at the Game, but they won’t be able to sneak AK-47s away from us.”
“Why take the chance? You won’t need them.”
“Soldiers will come, Gandalf. I know you find that hard to believe, but—”
“The government Big People can’t be that stupid! The dragons told them Mika didn’t make those fires, and dragons don’t lie, so they won’t—”
“Rule,” one of them called. “You have a phone call. It’s Hamp.”
Hamp was in charge of one of the brownie troops who were acting as scouts. “Excuse me a moment, Gandalf.” Rule crouched so the brownie with the phone could hold it up to his face. “This is Rule.” He listened to the excited voice on the other end, then said, “I think you’d better tell Gandalf, too.”
The brownie passed his phone to Gandalf. Rule stood and met Lily’s eyes. “Army troops have started arriving in Summersville.”
Summersville was less than ten miles from the reservation.
A few moments later, Rule had permission to bring in guns.
FORTY-TWO
WHEN Ruben Brooks opened the door of his big house and saw Demi, he blinked once. “Ah. That’s what I’ve been waiting for.” He didn’t explain what he meant, just told them to come in.
As they did, Mike told him who she was. Demi started to tell him why she was there, but he wanted them to come sit down first.
Demi was very curious about Ruben Brooks. He looked about forty-five, but she wasn’t good at figuring out ages so that might be wrong. His glasses were black except for one temple, which was brown. His hair was messy and he was skinny like her. He had smart eyes, she thought as they entered the kitchen at the back of the house.
His wife was there. Mrs. Brooks was very pretty, with thick, dark hair and pale skin. She told Demi to call her Deborah, then got drinks and snacks for everyone. Then she asked if this was a private conversation.
“Yes,” Demi said, “but I don’t know if that means private from you or not.” She looked at Mike.
He thought a moment. “I think it’s okay for her to know, since Rule didn’t say otherwise. But it’s dangerous knowledge.”
Deborah looked at her husband, who looked back. Neither of them said a word, but she sat down at the breakfast nook just as if they’d discussed it and decided she should stay.
“Mr. Brooks,” Demi began, “I have a lot to tell you, but first I need to know if you’ve been relieved of duty. Lily thought maybe you hadn’t been.”
His eyebrows went up. “Lily told you that?”
She nodded. “She made me a Unit Twelve agent and sent me here.”
“I think,” he said slowly, “you had better call me Ruben.”
* * *
BACK at the village green, Rule was making his webcam appearance with four of the brownies while several others were busily engaged in custom leatherwork, making harnesses for some of them to use. Brownies didn’t eat meat, but they had no problem working with the hides of dead animals. Brownie logic strikes again.
Lily had a different task.
Turned out there was one way to make sure brownies didn’t play the Game with something: make it the property of an efondi. Efondi were almost always dragons, and dragons did not like it if you messed with their stuff. Brownies didn’t have much use for rules, but even the most scatterbrained brownie would not play the Game with an efondi’s possessions.
Lily now owned three contraband AK-47s and an extremely illegal Uzi. “Rule says you three are the least likely to shoot each other instead of the enemy,” she told the lupi in front of her. She gave them a slow and skeptical appraisal. “We’ll see. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. Let’s get acquainted. Jason, how many kills do you have?”
The man acting as Rule’s second spoke coolly. “Five.”
“Luke?”
He cleared his throat. “None. I’ve fought, but—”
“Never mind that for now. Manny?”
“Two.”
She nodded. “I’ve got two kills as well, if we just count humans. If we add in demons—”
“You’ve killed demons?” Manny exclaimed.
“In Dis, yes. I’m not sure how many of the demons I shot died, but some did. Jason, Manny—how many of your kills were with a gun?”
“Well . . . none,” Manny said.
Jason simply shook his head.
“All but one of my kills were made with a weapon.” She let that sink in. Lupi didn’t much like guns. There was a reason for that. Mostly they fought each other—in personal challenges or the type of surreptitious, undeclared war that had existed between Nokolai and Leidolf clans for so long. Guns couldn’t be used in a challenge, and using them anywhere near humans tended to draw unwanted attention. “I’m told all of you can use a rifle. Luke, here, won the clan’s sharpshooter competition.” A brand-new competition, begun by Rule three months ago. “So you know some of the basics. I’m going to teach you how to handle an AK-47 and an Uzi. Two of you will get one of the AK-47s; one will get the Uzi. Who gets what will be my decision.”
“Who gets the third AK-47?” Jason asked. “Rule?”
“No. I do. Your Rho shouldn’t be out front, firing and drawing return fire. Also, I’m better with it than he is. He can use one, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve stayed in practice. He hasn’t. Before we start, I want to make one thing clear. These weapons will be our last resort. If we get to the point where we have to kill U.S. troops, we’re pretty well screwed. Rule will do his damnedest to keep from using you three. Got that?”
Manny and Luke nodded. Jason didn’t.
“Jason? Got something to say?”
“No.”
The terse answer managed to combine obedience with a clear lack of respect. Jason had been told to obey Lily. He would, but he didn’t like it. Women weren’t supposed to give orders to men—especially not when it came to combat.
Lily had run into his type often enough, both among humans and with lupi, but the attitude was especially virulent in Leidolf. It was an attitude neither of them could afford. People had died when another Leidolf lupus decided his opinion counted for more than hers in the midst of battle. Lily couldn’t adjust his attitude the way Rule would have. She wasn’t bad at hand-to-hand, but that was against humans. Against lupi, she had no chance.
So she stared at him. Stared right into his eyes. Six seconds passed. Eight. Ten . . . and his gaze dropped.
He immediately looked up again, but now his eyes were slightly wide. Startled. He hadn’t intended to look away, but he had. He knew it. So did the other two.
Lily went on as if she hadn’t just challenged and won. “The good news is that these weapons are made for dummies. Almost anyone can use one. The bad news is that every one of those soldiers is going to be twice as good with his weapon as you will be with yours.” She paused. “Manny? Got a comment?”
“Well—yeah. They’re humans. They don’t have our reaction time.”
“They don’t need it. Ever heard of muscle memory? They’ll be carrying M16A4s. AK-47s are good weapons, don’t get me wrong. But M16s are better. And these guys know their weapons like you know your arm. Each one of them can field strip his rifle in three minutes or less. Right now, none of you know how to load your weapon, much less strip it. Which is why we’ll start by learning how to load the magazines.”
* * *
DEMI talked for a long time. Ruben asked a few questions, but not many, and Mike broke in once to add something, but mostly it was up to Demi to explain why she was now a Unit 12 agent. She would rather it was Ruben who arrested Mr. Smith, she told him as she finished, but she would follow orders if he told her to do it.
He tilted his head and said, “It’s funny. When I first brought Lily into the Unit, my only real concern about her was that she’d be too by-the-book.”
“It sounds like you can stop worrying about that, doesn’t it?” Deborah said.
He smiled, but not for long. “I can’t give you orders, Demi. I lack that authority now. Lily was right, however. I haven’t been relieved of duty. I suppose I should have made Mathison aware of that omission, but I had a feeling it was best he didn’t know.”
“You get hunches, right?”
He nodded. “Unfortunately, I’m not getting one about this.”
Demi’s forehead knit in sudden anxiety. “You don’t believe us?”
“I think you’ve spoken both truly and accurately. That’s both gut feeling and logic. What you’ve told me fits with conclusions I’d already drawn. It was obvious that another arm of government was involved in the frames on Rule and on me. Given the nature of those frames, my suspicion had begun to turn towards the NSA. The fake radar sightings today confirmed that for me.”
Demi blinked, surprised. “How did you know they were fake?”
“If Mika had truly gone mad—gone rogue, as many in the media are putting it—the other dragons would know and would already have dealt with her. That’s in the Accords, which each dragon swore to uphold. It is barely possible that one dragon might violate his sworn word. It’s inconceivable that all of them would.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “I wish I knew what Smith wanted with Mika.”
That was one of the questions he’d interrupted Demi to ask. She’d had to tell him she didn’t know, but Lily and Rule did, only they couldn’t tell anyone because of a promise. Tentatively she offered, “I think it has something to do with the Lodan potion.”
He flicked her a glance. “Hmm. I have some questions about that, but they’ll wait.” He didn’t say anything more. He went on saying nothing for quite a while. Demi figured he was thinking, so she kept silent, too. She hated it when people yammered at her when she needed to think.
Finally he reached out and took Deborah’s hand. “I have to do this.”
“Of course you do. Those people can’t be allowed to get away with this.” She smiled when she said that, but it looked like she was holding Ruben’s hand really tightly.
“There’s no going back, no matter what happens. I’m known to be lupus now. I won’t serve as head of Unit Twelve again.”
“I’ll settle for you coming back alive.”
Ruben smiled. “I’ll do my best. Now—Danny, Mike.” He let go of his wife’s hand and gave them each a nod. “I do still have the authority to arrest Smith. Keeping it a legal arrest will be tricky because I can’t go to a judge for a warrant. We lack the time and the evidence.”
“Lily explained the exceptions that permit a warrantless arrest.”
“Did she? I believe we’ll have to rely on the courts to agree that this is a pressing emergency, and that I didn’t have time to get a warrant. And who knows? Smith may simplify matters by attempting to commit a felony, such as assaulting an officer, while I’m arresting him.”
“That doesn’t sound simpler,” Demi said. “That sounds dangerous.”
“This is going to be dangerous. You need to understand that, because I’m about to make a request. Edward Smith has been trying to catch you for nearly a year, Demi, for very good reasons. He might not come to the door to speak with me. He’ll do so if you’re with me. He’ll have to, given what you know. Are you willing to come with me when I make the arrest?”
“Of course,” she said, though the thought made her stomach jittery. “You should probably know that sometimes I panic, and when I do, I can’t think straight. I do better if I have a list, but we don’t know enough about what might happen for me to make a list. So I’ll try to not panic, but it’s possible I will.”
Mike snorted. “You didn’t panic when a machine-gun-equipped helicopter chased us. You didn’t panic when a dragon flew over our heads, roaring. I’d say you don’t panic easily.”
She thought that over. “I think you’re right,” she said, pleased. “I’m getting better. But Mr. Smith knows me pretty well. If anyone can make me panic, he can.”
“If you start to panic, let me know,” Mike said. “I’ll tell you what to do so it won’t matter if you’re thinking straight or not.”
“I can delegate the thinking?” She considered that and nodded. “That makes sense.”
Ruben cleared his throat. “The question we must consider next is whether to make the arrest as soon as possible—which would mean going to NSA Headquarters—or waiting until Smith is at home. Here, I’m afraid, w
e’ll have to rely on logic, not hunches. There is one important point in favor of arresting him there and two against it. The point in favor is that it’s legally a public place, making an arrest without a warrant simpler. However, that’s his territory. Security staff there are likely to obey him, and he almost certainly has co-conspirators there. Also, I don’t think I’d be able to get you two into the headquarters. It’s probable that I’d have to go in alone.”
“That doesn’t sound smart.”
He gave her a quick smile. “I suspect you’re right. However, we don’t know when Smith will go home. We can’t even be sure that he will. We don’t know enough about how his conspiracy is organized to guess what place he considers his command post—home or NSA—but with matters reaching a crux, he’ll wish to be where he can coordinate his people. That might mean remaining at NSA Headquarters.”
“Seems pretty clear,” Mike said. “You need another Unit agent. One of you can go to the NSA and the other to Smith’s home.”
“I’m a Unit agent.” Demi felt she had to point that out.
“Yes, but I believe it would be difficult for you to convince others of that. However, we’re in luck. Another Unit Twelve agent is due to return to Washington later today. I have no authority to send him anywhere, but I believe he’ll attempt to make the arrest if I ask it of him.”
“How long will it take for him to get here?” Demi asked anxiously. “NSA is an hour’s drive from here. So is Mr. Smith’s house.”
“His plane should arrive at four thirty-two, so we need to leave soon to pick him up.”
“Who is it?” Mike asked. “Anyone I know?”
“Abel Karonski.”
Danny frowned. Lily and Rule had used that name earlier. “I thought he got relieved of duty.”
Ruben smiled. “He was supposed to be. I’m told that something went wrong with the paperwork.”
* * *
COPS do a lot of waiting. Lily should have been used to it, but this wait was rubbing her nerves raw. Maybe because the stakes were so high. Maybe because she had nothing to do—nothing that mattered anyway. Though that was pretty much the definition of waiting.
