Alien Research

CHAPTER 43

COULDN’T WAIT FOR DAD and Buchanan to show Mahin the video and get her to crack. Could be fast. Might be slow. Had to think of something else.

But events in the room with the hostages weren’t waiting. “Did you know that there are places where I can cut you and you’ll bleed out slowly?” Dier cooed at Brian.

“Isn’t that pretty much anywhere?” Brian asked. I was impressed. He sounded insolent.

“Leave him alone you raving bitch,” Michael growled.

She turned and was in profile to the camera. Only for a moment, then the camera got behind her again. “William, we need the frames with her face frozen and possibly blown up.” These flashed onto some other screens. “Jeff, Chuckie, does she look at all familiar to you? Even a little?”

“Not really,” Jeff said.

“Maybe,” Chuckie said slowly. “But I don’t know why.”

Dier was in front of Michael now. “So brave. But don’t worry, you’ll get your turn.”

“Ambassador, Mister Joel Oliver is here. He feels the woman is familiar, too.”

“Have Pierre take a look. I’m certain this is the same woman who was casing us all during Operation Sherlock’s horrible Dinner Party of Death.” But there was something else about her—I felt I’d seen her somewhere else.

“Untie me and let’s see how brave you are,” Michael said. “You’re nothing but a tall woman, about five foot nine, a hundred and forty pounds, brown eyes, hair’s obviously dyed, about thirty, and—”

She backhanded him. “Shut up. I told all of you to shut up.”

“Why should we?” Gladys asked. “You’re going to torture us no matter what. We might as well talk about how the man with the camera isn’t the man in charge. My half brother isn’t here, because he’s too much of a coward to take the risk.”

“But the man with the camera’s also your brother, Gladys,” Melanie said. The camera swung to her. “He’s just got no actual talents he’s shown, other than being subservient to Ronaldo Al Dejahl.”

“He’s short for a man, about the crazy knife wielder’s height,” Emily added. “Dark, swarthy, sounds Middle Eastern. Kind of chubby. Definitely unattractive.” A swarthy man’s hand slapped Emily across her face.

This put the cameraman closer to her and, because of how they were tied up, to Melanie. It was hard to be sure, but it sounded like Emily kicked or kneed him in the balls. At least the camera dropping to the floor while we heard the sound of male whimpering was indicative.

Heard another kick. “I think I just kicked your helper in the head,” Melanie said. “Sorry. Not really at all.”

“I love our team. I just have to say. They’re awesome.”

The rest of the hostages were getting into it, tossing off descriptions, sharing what they could remember of the abduction, and so forth. What was the most interesting was that Dier didn’t actually cut anyone. Meaning Ronaldo wanted most of them alive and presumably in one piece.

“Ambassador, a Peregrine is here,” William said. “I think he wants to talk to you.”

“Seriously?” Tim asked.

“Yes. Put Bruno on.” Assumed it was Bruno, anyway. Heard some bird screeches. Yep, Bruno. He screeched, clucked, and warbled. “Got it. You da bird, Bruno.”

“Do we want to know?” Jeff asked.

“Bruno says she’s who set the bomb in Cliff Goodman’s car. She was also in the crowd of reporters. She was the one trying to incite them to riot on us right after the explosion.”

Bruno screeched again. “Oh, right. And Bruno says she was in the Embassy during Jamie’s birthday party, but since she was there as press, the Peregrines watched her but didn’t attack lest they create a scene we couldn’t recover from. She was sent out with the rest of the press by Cliff, so she wasn’t inside all that long.”

“One minute is too long,” Jeff growled. “And how did they actually comprehend she was press and that a problem could be created if they’d merely ripped her to shreds at the time? And why didn’t they tell you what was going on?”

More Bruno screeches. “Ah. They listened to how the people were allowed in. And they were clear that I had other, far more vital things to accomplish at that party. Their understanding is based on human and A-C reactions, but is now really the time? I’m sure Bruno can explain all this to you when we’re not in the middle of trying to figure out how to stop being impotently kept from the people we want to save.”

“Good point,” Jeff said. “Anything from Buchanan?”

“No word yet, Congressman.”

The camera was up off the floor and we were back to filming the hostages talking smack to their captors. Dier headed toward Brian flashing her knife around. The camera was again focused toward Brian. Abigail and Naomi were to Brian’s left, Michael was to his right. From what we’d seen, this meant the door was behind the camera, so basically opposite Brian.

There was a lot of noise in the room—the hostages were all talking, either giving information or trying to distract Dier, so it was hard to make out anything too clearly now. White joined me at my monitor.

Dier put the knife up against Brian’s throat. “Shut up or I do this the fast way. Less fun for me. He’ll be dead a lot quicker, though.” Her voice was icy, and it was pretty clear she meant it.

The room quieted. “That’s better,” the Swarthy Slapper said. Well, assumed it was him. No one had acted like a new person had entered the room.

“Shut up,” Dier said tiredly. “As if they’re actually afraid of you?”

“You treat me with respect,” he snarled. “My brother—”

“Your brother has you signed on as camera crew. If he felt you were capable, he’d have given you an actual assignment.”

“I have an assignment,” he muttered.

Dier ignored him. “Pay attention. This is going to be what happens to all of you.” She put the knife’s tip against Brian’s inner arm and cut him. Not too much, not too deeply, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Or that he didn’t bleed. Brian hissed in pain.

“Get away from him!” Michael shouted. “Leave him alone!”

Dier laughed. “Hardly. And what are you going to do about it anyway?”

Serene was hysterical. It was only a matter of time before we found out if Patrick and Jamie could indeed time warp, only a matter of time before people we loved were maimed or murdered. We had to do something, anything. “William, is Bruno still there?”

“Yes, Ambassador.”

“Bruno, I need the Poofs assembled. Maybe they can find and rescue everyone. Fuzzball should be able to find Michael. They need to hurry.”

Bruno squawked. “He’s disappeared, Ambassador,” William confirmed.

“Good.” The Poofs normally came through, and they’d been able to access the tunnels when no one else had been. Didn’t understand why they’d waited for me to give the order, but the Poofs had their own weird hierarchy and I was just glad they normally did as requested.

There was an odd, muffled, snapping noise. Couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like it was coming from outside of the room the hostages were in.

As if she was reading my mind, Dier stepped away from Brian and went out of camera range. Heard a door open, then shut. She was back in range, with something in her hand. What looked like a round ball made of mesh, but it gleamed in an odd way.

The ball wasn’t empty. There was a Poof inside it, trembling. I recognized it as Michael’s Poof, Fuzzball. “I hope you don’t think this is going to save the day in some way,” Dier said. “We have friends from far away who understand how to capture dangerous animals.”

She tossed the ball into the air, pulled a gun from somewhere, and fired. The Poof gave a short, tiny scream. The metal cage landed on the floor. Blood seeped out and Fuzzball didn’t move. I felt sick—I’d sent Fuzzball into a trap.

“You murderous bitch!” Michael roared. “You killed my Poof! What did Fuzzball ever do to you? Get away from my friend and my family!” With that, Michael broke free.

He was an A-C and he had hyperspeed. Dier was a trained assassin. It didn’t seem like a fair fight.

It wasn’t.

Three shots rang out, close together. Rapid-fire technique.

And then the camera pointed at the floor. Michael was lying there, next to Fuzzball, eyes wide and unblinking, blood spreading across his chest from three different entry wounds.