Inheritance

CHAPTER 40

They left a note for Carl Baldwin. Amber found a pen in the kitchen’s junk drawer and flipped over the electric bill to write on it.

Dear Carl Baldwin,

We’re really sorry for breaking into your house. We didn’t have any other choice. We’ll send you money to cover the damaged window. Also we’re sorry for eating your macaroni and cheese and for taking a pair of your socks. You’re a really good cook.

Sincerely,

Amber Gray, Reese Holloway, and David Li

Amber left the note in the middle of the table, weighted down with a fork, and then scribbled Carl Baldwin’s address on a pizza menu and gave it to Reese. “I don’t have any pockets,” Amber said at Reese’s questioning glance. She had given David’s jacket back to him.

“Oh.” Reese pocketed the address. “Ready to go?”

“Don’t forget your guns,” Amber said as she headed for the back door.

David looked amused. He picked up the agent’s gun from the counter and Reese grabbed Carter’s weapon from the table, and they followed Amber out of the house.

The black triangle was far above them in the sky, but its sharp edges were clearly distinguishable. A small dot emerged from the ship and descended toward the field. As it approached, Reese recognized it as the lander, wings extended. It touched down behind the stack of hay bales, and when the door opened, their parents ran out to meet them.

Reese’s mom hugged her so tightly that Reese squeaked. “Are you all right? Did they hurt you? What happened? Why do you have a gun?” her mom demanded all at once. She only let her go when Reese’s dad stepped in to hug her too.

Reese saw Malcolm Todd standing beside the lander’s hatch. He caught Reese’s eye and nodded toward the craft. “We should go,” Reese said, pulling away from her parents. “We’ll explain everything when we get back to the ship.”

Returning to the black triangle felt like arriving at a safe house. Reese had never been so relieved to walk down those corridors before. Everyone was gathered in the dining hall—even Akiya Deyir—where stained coffee cups were scattered all over the tables, and the screens on the walls showed several different television stations at once. The fancy headline at the bottom of one network’s broadcast, decorated with the crosshairs of a rifle scope, read: HOSTAGE SITUATION. The moving text below stated: Hunt continues for three missing teenagers taken hostage by AHL militia during botched UN bombing.

“What’s going on?” Reese asked. “What’s the AHL militia?”

Akiya Deyir answered, “Americans for Humanity and Liberty. That’s the name of an anti-Imrian group—the same one that posted bail for the man who tried to shoot you at Fisherman’s Wharf.”

“But they didn’t kidnap us,” David said. “Blue Base soldiers did.”

“There’s a cover-up in process,” Dr. Brand explained. “AHL supposedly bombed the United Nations the day you were taken.”

“Was that the noise we heard in the parking garage?” Reese asked.

“Maybe,” Dr. Brand answered. “It wasn’t a very successful bombing. There wasn’t much damage, but the UN was evacuated and the General Assembly was interrupted. But shortly afterward, AHL—which does model itself on a citizens’ militia group—took credit for abducting you.”

“We think that AHL might have actually pulled off the bombing,” Todd said. “It was a bit clumsy, and they would have needed inside assistance, but it does line up with their anti-UN stance.”

Reese watched another of the TV stations, on which photos of her, David, and Amber were shown while an anchorwoman spoke. The volume had been turned off but the closed-captioning at the bottom of the screen read: FBI officials declined to release details on whether they have any leads, but one anonymous agent reportedly claims that the search is fruitless. Imrian ambassador Akiya Deyir has offered assistance to locate the teenagers, but so far the Randall Administration has not issued a public response.

Deyir, who had seen where Reese’s gaze went, said, “That was right before we heard from Malcolm. President Randall still hasn’t spoken.”

“President Randall ordered the kidnapping,” Reese said.

Everyone in the room stared at her. “What?” Dr. Brand said.

“Are you sure?” the ambassador asked.

“Yes, I heard them talking about it.” Reese thought back to the voices she had heard through the floorboards. “The soldiers said the president couldn’t make up her mind about what to do with us because she’s a woman. I totally remember that.”

Amber asked, “Wait, what exactly is the official story?”

Dr. Brand answered, “The news is reporting that the AHL militia group bombed the UN as a cover to abduct the three of you. They’re supposedly holding you hostage.”

“What for?” Amber asked.

Todd shrugged. “The theory is that they’ll ask us—the Imria—for money. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, and basically shows that the Randall Administration is engaging in another cover-up without thinking through the details.”

“So what’s the true story?” Reese’s mom asked. “This is all very confusing. Why would the president want to kidnap you three?”

Reese turned to her mom. “She’s still trying to hide what happened during the June Disaster. It all goes back to those birds.”

“It goes back well before that,” Todd said.

“We need to release the news that you’ve been found,” Dr. Brand said. “We have to put an end to this fake hostage story—not to mention the fake search for you three.”

“Yeah,” Reese agreed. “We should do all that, but first we need to go to Los Angeles.”

“Why?” Deyir asked.

“Diego Luis Torres,” Reese said. “I owe someone a favor.”