Alien Research

CHAPTER 13

HAPPILY, Jeff was proven right and the “private meeting, it’s all good” explanation was accepted without argument.

We got back to the issue at hand, which was how to find out what Gaultier, Titan, and YatesCorp were up to, beyond the presumed assumption, based on a lot of precedent, that said “horrible evil.”

“We have an agent infiltrating within Gaultier,” Chuckie shared. “However, I won’t share that operative’s information with you, Vander, for a variety of reasons.”

“No argument,” Horn said, looking like he’d like to argue but already knew he’d lose. “Do you have anyone in YatesCorp or Titan?”

Chuckie shook his head. “Titan’s involvement with the assassination attempt at last year’s President’s Ball meant we had full access into the company. However, the E-T Division was removed from control, and I was told to leave Titan alone.”

“And you did?” I found this hard to believe.

Chuckie shrugged. “The order came from up high. There are times to do what you’re told, and this was one of them.”

“Does that mean we need to look into whoever gave you that order?” Horn asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” Chuckie replied. “Angela’s aware, and she may have someone on it already. The P.T.C.U. didn’t relinquish jurisdiction on Titan, since they posed a terrorist threat. They also coordinated with Homeland Security, which turned it over to the Department of Defense. Bottom line is that I stopped worrying about it because the right agencies and divisions were working together.”

“What about YatesCorp?” Nathalie asked. “Is anyone there?”

“Not from the F.B.I.’s side,” Horn said.

“None that I know of from the C.I.A., either,” Chuckie said. “We were all told to back off a long time ago.” He shot me a look that said to shut up and not ask the question I wanted to.

So I didn’t ask him why he’d obeyed that command. Because his look told me that Chuckie had indeed ignored it. However, he didn’t want to share that with present company, and I was in agreement with that mindset.

“Amos Tobin is the new guy in charge,” Amy said. “Though it took forever for him to get appointed.”

“The Board of Directors did take their time,” Horn agreed. “However, I believe it’s because there’s an unusual stipulation within the incorporation documents, and in light of your fight to reclaim Gaultier Enterprises, I believe it’s relevant. If a blood relative of Ronald Yates is found, and proven to be a blood relative, that person can assume a seat on the Board at any time, with full membership and voting rights, and with a salary commensurate with the rest of the Board. There’s no limit to the number of blood relatives who can do this, by the way.”

Didn’t look to see which of our A-Cs were clearly showing they were Yates blood relatives. Figured at least three of them were. Instead I focused on Horn. “How many have stepped forward?”

“None so far,” Horn said. “Ronaldo Al Dejahl had sent a letter to the Board of Directors two years ago. However, he wasn’t confirmed as a blood relative before he, ah, disappeared.”

“And just how do you know this, Vander? I’m asking because you seem to know a whole lot about these things, and I’m wondering how long you’ve been digging into these corporations before you came by for this informal little stress fest.”

Horn smiled at me. “I was in our White Collar division before I moved over to Alien Activities. I know a great deal about most of the Fortune Five Hundred.”

“Has the Board searched for any Yates relatives?” Amy asked.

“No.” Horn chuckled. “YatesCorp isn’t in any hurry to bring on some untried Yates relative just for the thrill of them throwing a wrench into the smooth working of a multinational conglomerate.”

Ronald Yates had made Hugh Hefner look like a choirboy. We already knew of two illegitimate children—Ronaldo Al Dejahl and Serene Dwyer. Both of them were the younger siblings of White, and therefore of Jeff’s mother, Lucinda, and Gladys “Scary Chief of Security” Gower. Jeff and Christopher were therefore Yates’ grandsons. And Jamie and Patrick were his first official great-grandchildren.

Within the A-C community alone we had enough people to take over any Board. But the A-Cs weren’t the problem. The rest of Yates’ illegitimate children out there were the problem, because they’d be hybrids, and likely powerful hybrids, or full blood A-Cs, also likely to be supremely talented. And we had no idea how many there were, where they might be, or if they were already on the side of evil or not.

“Yet they’ve publicized the Relative’s Clause in the incorporation documents?” Raj asked.

Horn shook his head. “No. I only know about that because I was digging into YatesCorp when they were making their decision on Amos.”

Interesting. Horn was on a first name basis with Tobin. Hoped that didn’t bode badly for us, but since I was now supposedly on a first name basis with all the Land Sharks, I wasn’t one to judge too harshly.

“How long have you known about this clause?” Chuckie asked.

“Not too long.” Horn shrugged. “I didn’t really think it would be too relevant to Centaurion.” Either he didn’t know who Ronald Yates had really been to the A-Cs, or else Horn was lying like a wet rug. Had no bet either way. Chuckie didn’t look happy, though, and half of the room looked uncomfortable.

“So, what’s the situation on the Hill?” Raj asked, smoothly changing the subject. “Is there positive reaction to the news of this new F.B.I. division?”

As the conversation shifted, I wondered if Raj and Chuckie practiced handling issues in meetings or if Raj was just that good. Bet on just that good.

Unhappily, the conversational shift meant the meeting continued on, only focused on what was going on at Capitol Hill. It was the usual political blah, blah, blah now that Horn was assumed to be on our side. None of it was that specific to American Centaurion or our interests, and I was bored out of my non-policy-loving mind within minutes.

Fortunately, just before my eyelids closed and my head hit the table, my phone rang.

I stepped away as fast as possible to take the call. It wasn’t from a number programmed into my phone, but at least this number wasn’t blocked, so maybe that meant whoever was calling wasn’t about to threaten me. “Hello?”

“Chief?” a voice whispered.

“Walter?” I whispered back. “Why aren’t you calling me using your Embassy cell?”

“Chief, we’re in trouble. Big trouble. We need hel—” And with that, the phone went dead.