Alien Research

CHAPTER 75

WE WERE BACK AT THE EMBASSY. It was hard to tell Gower that he’d now lost his aunt as well as his brother. It was harder to tell everyone else.

White managed it, of course, because he’d been managing horrible things like this since well before the A-Cs had been exiled to Earth. Once the news was out, White had sequestered himself and Gower, doing Pontifex stuff, which I presumed meant White was prepping Gower for how to hold it together during Michael’s funeral which was now the day after tomorrow.

Chuckie had Dier, Darryl the Airbender, Kozlow, and the guy Gladys had tossed out of the chopper in custody. They were in the containment center under the Pentagon, and, despite complaints from the F.B.I., Homeland Security, and the rest of the C.I.A., only Mom or Chuckie, and whoever they chose to bring along, were allowed access.

The prisoners were in Magneto Level cells, but so far, no one had gotten anything much out of them. Jeff and Christopher were due to go over with Mom, Chuckie, and a Polaroid camera to see what they could get. But first we had to make sense of what had happened at Guantanamo.

Uncle Mort had insisted on this because he wanted to be sure Mom had all the pertinent details and he wanted to hear anything he’d missed as well. I’d backed him up on doing this right away, because there were things I wanted to be sure we considered before I headed a commando raid into Gaultier.

Mom had agreed with both of us. Jeff had insisted that he wanted all Embassy staff, Alpha, and Airborne, other than White and Gower, in attendance as well. Jeff, Christopher, Mahin and I were all filthy, though, and the rest of the team wasn’t looking too much better. So everyone was given an hour to get bathed and changed, Mahin and Uncle Mort were assigned rooms, and everyone cleaned up.

Dad was at the Embassy staying with Jamie, who was happy to see us, but not as happy as we were to see her. We didn’t have as long a family reunion as either Jeff or I would have liked, but it was a better reunion than the Gowers were getting to have. Forced myself not to think about that while we were with Jamie, difficult though it was.

An hour later, give or take, we were all packed into the conference room like a group of well-dressed sardines, Hacker International attending via video conferencing.

Like me and all the other women, Mahin was now in the Standard Female Armani Fatigues of black slim skirt and white oxford, Fluffball on her shoulder. The clothes and Poof looked natural on her. She was actually kind of huddling next to me, which was understandable, even though no one had accused her of anything, not even via their expressions, not even Naomi or Abigail.

Pierre had provided a lovely drinks and snacks arrangement, which was great since it was well past dinnertime and many of us hadn’t eaten for hours before that. I did my best not to shovel the fruit, veggies, dip, cheese, and chocolate into my mouth, but it took effort.

Food and drinks at everyone’s place, we rolled into our recap. I covered why I’d gone with Gladys, Jeff covered why he and the others had come after us, Uncle Mort and Reader shared what they’d found at the computer center, and Chuckie finished up with what they’d done with the various prisoners, the ones we cared about and the others. We played Gladys’ farewell message for everyone.

“Mort and I had the prisoners searched, of course,” Chuckie said, probably to break the sad silence in the room after the video finished up. He slid four small disks onto the table. “The four we have in maximum lockup all had these on them. The prisoners who were in Guantanamo originally didn’t.”

“At least it wasn’t in them.” Got the usual WTF looks. Heaved a sigh. “These are small. I’m amazed our enemies aren’t installing them inside their operatives like how we all used to be tagged for the American Centaurion Herd Protection Program.”

Chuckie’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a good point. We’ve lost all the data on these, of course, but I wonder if there’s something toxic to humans or A-Cs, or both, in the metal.”

“Not that we’ve found yet,” Serene said. “But then again, they’ve been almost impossible to examine past the shell.”

“That would make sense,” Jeff said. “Because I’m with Kitty—why not at least put them under the skin if they’re harmless? We’d have a harder time finding them, not to mention there’s less risk of loss.”

“Maybe they think we’ll figure out how to destroy them, like they destroyed our chips,” Christopher said. “And theirs explode when you try to open them.”

“Good point. But they could make them with a non-explosive shell if they wanted to. Unless there’s a really good reason to have them remain outside of a body, and again, toxicity would be my guess, because it’s not like the bad guys ever seem to care about losing minions.”

“I wasn’t given one of those,” Mahin said. “I’ve never even seen one before, and I didn’t know there were things that could affect empaths until you mentioned it. If I understand everything that’s been going on correctly, I should have had one, shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Jeff said. “You were on the front lines and I’ve been able to read you pretty clearly.”

Something was bothering me. Something small. But as with Algar or the Poofs or Jamie, small didn’t necessarily mean unimportant. Remembered that Jeff had said something about Mahin joining us and so had Gladys, and both had struck me as vital to explore. “You know, I wonder . . . why were we there and are we all here?”

Got a replay of all the WTF looks. Heaved a sigh but soldiered on. “By there I mean those of us who were at Guantanamo, and by here, I mean all of us, right here, as we are at this very moment.” Looked around. “None of you seem remotely shocked that Mahin’s got a Poof on her shoulder, or that we’re acting like she’s part of the team. She’s still feeling unsure of whether or not she fits in, but none of you seem even a little surprised.”

Tim shrugged. “We’re not. It’s what you do, why you got moved to Head of Recruitment.”

“Yeah,” Jerry said with a grin. “You find the talent, you do something that makes the talent realize you’re great and worthy of following, you recruit the talent, the talent says you’re da girl and sticks around. Sometimes the talent even marries in,” he added, with a wink for Joe and Randy. Lorraine and Claudia both chuckled.

“And she’s family,” Naomi said softly. Serene nodded.

“Right. So I have to go back to something that occurred to me when we were fighting Mahin the first time, in the desert. It seemed like her side hadn’t told her the truth—she thought they were all somewhere in the tunnel system, when they’d never even gone into it.”

“Some of them went into it,” Abigail pointed out.

“After they used gates to get out and across the country. Mahin thought they’d gone in at the Science Center.”

“Yes, they told me they were taking everyone underground and going to use special vehicles to get back to D.C. If I survived and won, I was to meet them at the coordinates I gave Mister Buchanan.”

“Not quite,” Buchanan said. “The location where she was to rendezvous was across the street from the Gaultier Research facility. I just took the logical step of figuring our enemies would be in the tunnels underneath versus actually out in the open.”

“How were you supposed to get across the country on your own?” Claudia asked.

“They told me how to work a gate. I was to go back to Area Fifty-One and either take a gate or commandeer a vehicle.” Mahin gave a weak smile. “It wasn’t a good plan, now that I share it aloud.”

“They used her,” Reader pointed out. “So? They do that all the time.”

“But why? Why lie to her? Why give her the coordinates but not the truth of the rest? Did they expect us to kill her? Naomi’s right, she’s family, but so was Ronaldo and it wasn’t like we were inviting him over for Arrival Day Dinner. And we didn’t know Mahin existed until this action. So why didn’t she get an emotional blocker or enhancer? Why wasn’t she told anything much? It’s as if they never figured she’d stick with them, like they knew she’d move over to the side of right somewhere along the way.”

Everyone looked at Mahin. She leaned a little closer to me. “I didn’t know any of you existed until the invasion, either. And I never suspected I was one of you, in that sense, until Ronaldo found me. I just thought I was different. My mother never told me who my . . . real father was. So how would anyone know what I would or wouldn’t do?”

“Research,” Chuckie answered. “They’ve known where you, and probably the others they’ve found, were. Potentially for years. And they studied all of you and extrapolated likely reactions. Well in advance of this action.”

“My guess, by the way, is that Ronald Yates kept a Little Black Book of all his sexual conquests, either because he was just that kind of man, or because he wanted to be sure to be able to find his offspring easily.”

“Then why wait until now to find them?” Claudia asked.

“And before you say they wanted to wait until he was dead,” Lorraine added, “he’s been dead for over three years now.”

“And Serene was identified and used by our enemies within six months of his death. Ronaldo was activated around that time, too, if we pay attention to the timelines of how various Operations played out. So, my bet is that Leventhal Reid, who we all agree was the first Apprentice, had that Little Black Book and used it once Yates was dead.”

“Does that mean the current Mastermind has it now?” Doreen asked.

“Give you three guesses and the first two don’t count. My bet would be that the Apprentices were charged with legwork in finding the Yates Offspring. Our current Mastermind was better at this than Reid, or else Reid was more motivated to ID these people once he became the Mastermind. But that would mean they likely have detailed information on every one of the Yates Offspring they’ve managed to find.”

“They got what they needed from me the most before I was captured,” Mahin said slowly. “I helped break Russell out of Israel, and my skills were truly what allowed them to get him. And I was convinced you were all dangerous and evil when I attacked you in the desert.”

“And you really almost killed us,” Christopher said.

“I note that you’re sitting here, alive and well. Thanks to my skills that you constantly want to run down, Mister I Can’t Actually Fly A Plane Myself But Love to Backseat Drive One.”

“If she’d killed any of us she would never have been allowed in,” Jeff said before Christopher had a chance to come back with anything other than Patented Glare #3. “So if that had worked, then they’d have had Mahin with them forever, because she wouldn’t have had any options.”

“Which is why they gave her the coordinates,” Tim said. “So she could get back to them and they could retrieve her if she was successful.”

“So they win either way,” Chuckie said.

“Right. Especially since there was no way they were getting Chernobog’s cooperation without Russell freed and in a position to collect on the YatesCorp prize.”

Everyone gave me shocked looks other than Mom, Buchanan, and Chuckie, who all nodded. “Based on the intel Olga gave us,” Chuckie said, “that’s absolutely accurate. Chernobog hasn’t been this active and obvious in at least a decade.”

“That’s an interesting point I don’t want us to forget, but I want to get back to the whole Mahin issue. I realize our thinking just confirms that the Mastermind is back, bigger than ever, but I think what they did and didn’t do with Mahin is hugely key. Because if they were always figuring that the odds were that they’d lose Mahin to us, what else were and are they already banking on?”

“Everything you did from the point you and Gladys got to Guantanamo,” Christopher suggested.

“Maybe,” Reader said. “But I have a question we didn’t have time to ask before now. Mort, why was Mahin held at the Air Station, instead of over at the Detention Camp? And why were all these other prisoners there at all?”

“They were scheduled for release,” Uncle Mort said. “Politically, we’re being cooperative and moved them over to the Air Base, where it’s more pleasant and better for photo ops. Realistically, they’re all likely to be terrorists, but we do have to play nicey-nice for the politicians. No offense,” he added to Jeff.

“None taken,” Jeff said. “What country are they associated with?”

Chuckie’s eyes narrowed. “You think they were or are part of the overall plan?”

“I think it’s possible,” Jeff said.

“Me too. Because Mahin was at the Air Base the whole time, right?”

Uncle Mort nodded. “Yes, but that was so it would be less unpleasant for your father and Mister Buchanan to question her. And to answer Jeff’s question, the rest of the prisoners there are from a variety of countries. Most are considered low-level threats. I could get you a full roster if you need it, Angela, Charles.”

“Yes, we’ll want that.” Chuckie rubbed the back of his neck. “The complexity just keeps adding in, doesn’t it?”

“The Mastermind knows us,” I pointed out. “And that means Mahin would have been put at the Air Base regardless, because someone from Centaurion Division or the P.T.C.U. would have been questioning her.”

“But they left me there for days,” Mahin said. “And no one contacted me before today.”

“Uncle Mort, when did the release orders for those prisoners come down?”

“Within this week.” He looked grim. “You think they’re connected to all this business, don’t you, just like Jeff and Charles do?”

“I do. The Mastermind has pull.” Pull I was sure wasn’t going to be traceable back to the Mastermind, of course, but I was getting used to that by now. Besides, all it took was finding the end of one thread in the tangle to unravel it. As long as we could find a thread, let alone an end to it.

“What would be the point?” Randy asked. “They didn’t do anything.”

“They utilized manpower,” Joe replied. “That might have been reason enough.”

Hughes and Walker both nodded. “And there was nowhere to put them, since the detention area was blown up,” Hughes said.

“If we hadn’t come back when we did, they might have done something as well,” Walker added. “They tried, Christopher just stopped them in a way that ensured they didn’t want to try again.”

Thought about what Hughes had just said and where Ronaldo and the others had been running. “Uncle Mort, why were you at Guantanamo?”

“We had a high level terrorist in captivity.” He nodded toward Mahin. “I was on site to ensure things remained . . . calm.”

“Who knew you were there?”

“Only your mother. Top Brass wasn’t advised. Neither was the base commander.” He grinned. “In these kinds of cases, I use a gate to come and go. Much easier that way.”

“So it’s very likely that the Mastermind didn’t know you’d be at Guantanamo. Which makes a lot of sense. So, let me ask this—let’s say that you hadn’t been there. The base commander was mind controlled, but that was only one part of the plan. Where would someone like, say, Lieutenant Pierce have ultimately taken the prisoners?”

“There would have been no prisoners left alive if not for your Poofs,” Uncle Mort pointed out.

“Yeah, but I was always supposed to be there—remember, Gladys said she thought Ronaldo had sent her the dream to ‘come’ to him. So the expectation was always to catch me and the Poofs. And I’m sure the related expectation was that Jeff and some others would come after us. You were the wrinkle in their plans, not me or the others. So, Uncle Wrinkle, tell me where they’d have taken those prisoners, because I have a guess and I’d like to know if I’m right.”

Jeff and Christopher both sat up straight. But Mahin spoke first. “They’d have been taken to those old buildings, where the helicopter crashed, right?”

Uncle Mort nodded. “I don’t know why you children ask questions when you already know the answers.”

“Because we like to keep you oldsters on your toes. So, the idea would have been to have a riot far away from the main area, or even to have a prison break where they all got to head right into Cuba and be likely welcomed with open arms. This would follow right after Guantanamo bombed our Science Center. I’d say that a war between the U.S. and American Centaurion, let alone however many other countries, would seem likely.”

“It would take the Pontifex being in agreement with Alpha Team and the Diplomatic Corps for that to truly happen,” Reader said.

Looked at Naomi and Abigail. “Paul has a breaking point, and I’d have to guess that seeing his brother murdered and then having most of his people blown up by the United States military would send him well damn past that point.”

Naomi nodded. “Hell yes. I’m sure he’s close right now, but that? That would send him and the rest of us over the edge. If there were any of us left that is.”

“Yeah,” Abigail agreed. “Jeff and Christopher, you know what you’d do.”

Jeff nodded. “It’s all too easy to see. Even if we believed the attack was an accident, that’s a direct act of war.”

“We’d be looking to move,” Christopher said. “We’d want to pull the rest of our people out of U.S. territories, go somewhere we felt was safer. Maybe leave the planet, if we could. We have options now that we didn’t have before, ACE or no ACE.”

“Where are those prisoners now?” Mom asked.

“Had to send them back to the Detention Camp,” Uncle Mort said. “And now I’m glad of that. Kitty, do you really think the goal is war? And why war with American Centaurion?”

Chuckie’s phone rang. He looked at it and groaned. “Horn’s calling. I’m sure he wants to know where we are on finding the new superdrug.”

Stared at him. “Oh. My God. I know what the hell is going on, all of it. And why.”