The Green And The Gray

38

For a long moment no one spoke. Roger stared at the filmy patch hanging from Fierenzo's fingers, his stomach twisting in horror.

Velovsky was the first to break the silence. "You fool," he murmured, his eyes burning into Roger's face. "You stupid, careless fool."

"What do we do?" Laurel breathed.

"We start by not panicking," Ron said firmly, gesturing to his eldest son. "Jonah, take a look at the bug. Maybe it's just a tracer and not a complete listening device."

Gingerly, Jonah took the patch from Fierenzo, turning it over a couple of times and angling it toward the light as he looked closely at it. "You're right, it's just a tracer," he announced at last, a note of relief in his voice. "There's a carrier transmitter but no microphone. In fact—" He plucked at the film with his fingernails. "Yes," he said, holding it out for Roger and Fierenzo to see. "There are actually parts of two tels here, back to back but offset," he went on. "Two separate carrier transmitters."

"That must be how it can work as a tracer," Ron said. "Normally, you can't pinpoint a tel's position."

"That's a bit of good news, anyway," Fierenzo said. "Even if Torvald knows the trassk is here, he doesn't know who's in here with it. Or what's been said."

"Small comfort," Velovsky muttered. "They'll have the whole building surrounded by now."

"I don't know," Jonah said, his forehead creasing. "I didn't see anyone while I was up there."

"Let's find out," Fierenzo suggested, retrieving his coat from the back of Velovsky's chair. "Get the tracer, Roger, and let's you and me take a little walk."

"What about us?" Laurel asked as Roger gingerly took the tracer back from Jonah and slipped it into his pocket.

"Stay here until we call you or come back." Fierenzo caught Velovsky's eye. "That goes for you, too," he said.

"It won't make any difference," Velovsky said quietly. He had slumped in his chair, his eyes locked onto the carpet in front of his feet. "In here or out there, the Grays will get us whenever they want us."

No one was lurking in the hallway as the two men walked to the elevator. Roger felt his muscles tense as the doors slid open; but there was no one in the car, either. They got in, Fierenzo punched for the lobby, and they headed down. "Relax," the detective advised as the floor numbers on the panel slipped swiftly downward. "It may not be as bad as it looks."

"Of course not," Roger said bitterly. "I've only wrecked everything, guaranteed Melantha's death, and probably destroyed Manhattan in the bargain. Not that bad at all."

"Don't go melodramatic on me," Fierenzo said reprovingly. "Number one: even if they can pin down exactly which room we were in, they don't know who was in there with us."

"They'll be able to figure out that it was Ron and Stephanie who rented it."

"So?" Fierenzo countered. "I've already been seen with Jonah and Jordan, and you've already been seen with me. The critical question is whether or not anyone's made the link between us and Melantha's parents."

"And with Velovsky," Roger reminded him.

"And with Velovsky," Fierenzo agreed. "But it's a good-sized hotel, and there are ways of getting people in and out without being spotted. We should be able to sneak all of them out if we have to."

No one with an obvious Gray build was waiting when the elevator reached the lobby. Fierenzo eased them through a waiting cluster of people and led the way into the foyer. "Where are we going?"

Roger asked.

"We've taken our little walk," Fierenzo said as he pushed the door open and headed toward a line of waiting cabs. "Now it's time for a little ride. How much cash have you got on you?"

"I don't know," Roger said, frowning. "Maybe a hundred."

"Good enough," Fierenzo said, pulling out his own wallet. "Once we're on our way, give me fifty and the tracer."

He stepped to the first cab in line and opened the back door. "Columbia University," he told the driver as he gestured Roger in and then got in behind him.

"Where at Columbia do you want?" the cabby called over his shoulder as he pulled out into the traffic flow.

"It's the—where was Nikolos again?" Fierenzo asked, turning to Roger.

"The Faculty House," Roger supplied. "East campus, on Morningside Drive."

"The Faculty House," Fierenzo confirmed. Half-turning, he looked casually behind them, then held out his hand toward Roger and wiggled his fingers in silent command.

Pulling out his wallet, Roger selected two twenties and a ten and handed them over, setting the tracer on top of the stack. Fierenzo pressed the thin film onto the top bill, rubbing his thumb over it a couple of times. For a moment he peered at his handiwork; then, nodding in apparent satisfaction, he folded the bills into his hand, added a couple more from his own pocket, and turned to gaze out the side window. Roger tried to relax, wondering what exactly the detective had in mind.

Two blocks later, he found out. Leaning abruptly forward, Fierenzo tapped on the divider. "Pull over here," he called, jabbing a finger at an open area to their right. "This is ridiculous," he growled to Roger as the driver obediently pulled to the curb and stopped. "He's your father, not mine. You want to go all the way to Columbia just to take him home, fine. I'm going back to the party."

"Oh, come on," Roger argued back, not sure where the other was going with this but recognizing a cue when he saw one. "We promised. Anyway, he wants to see us."

"He wants a ride," Fierenzo said with exaggerated patience. "He doesn't care if you're even there. He sure doesn't care if I'm there."

"Fine," Roger said impatiently. "If that's the way you want it, go ahead and get out."

"Yeah, I'll do that," Fierenzo retorted, pulling on the handle and shoving the door open. He caught Roger's eye and his head twitched fractionally toward the open door beside him. "Have a nice drive.

I'll keep Elaine company for you."

"Wait a second—Elaine's mine," Roger warned. "You keep your paws off her."

"And say hi to your dad for me," Fierenzo added with a leer. Half-turning, he started to get out.

Roger caught his arm. "Come on, Bill, we can't just leave him there."

"Sure we can," Fierenzo said. "In fact, I'd lay you odds he's already found himself another ride."

"Yeah, but what if he hasn't?" Roger persisted.

"Then he can—oh, hell." Muttering under his breath, Fierenzo pulled up the wad of bills he and Roger had put together. "Here, fella, here's what I want you to do," he said, reaching through the partition and slapping the money into the cabby's hand. "Seventy bucks. Go on up to the Faculty House and see if there's a white-haired old man hanging around waiting for a cab. If there is, take him home—he'll give you the address."

"What if he's not there?" the cabby asked, eyeing the money uncertainly.

"Then you've just made yourself a real big tip," Fierenzo said, sliding across the seat and out the door. "Come on, Ralph. And you owe me."

Roger got out after him, and together they watched the cab pull out again into the night. "You think he'll actually go up there?" he asked.

"Doesn't matter," Fierenzo said, looking around them. "Wherever he goes, Torvald's tracer goes with him. Come on, let's get back."

No one accosted them along the way, and a few minutes later Jonah was once again dead-bolting the door behind them. "Well?" he demanded.

"The tracer's gone on a tour of greater Manhattan," Fierenzo told him. "I forgot to ask you to monitor the general Gray tel band."

"Actually, we'd already thought of that," Ron said. "There were a couple of sentry reports on Green activity, and Halfdan made a few positioning changes to counter Warrior movements in Central Park. It all sounded very routine."

"It also sounds like Halfdan's coming to a boil over our disappearance," Jonah put in. "All sentries with views of police precinct houses have been alerted to watch for us."

"Well, if they're watching for you there, that's several sets of eyes not watching any other directions,"

Fierenzo said philosophically. "Anything about Roger and me? Or about a cab heading for Columbia University?"

"Not that I heard," Ron said.

"Same here," Jonah said as his mother also shook her head.

"Well, it's been an interesting evening," Velovsky said, standing up and picking up his coat and hat.

"Do I have your permission to leave yet, Detective?"

"Yes, of course," Fierenzo said, digging a card from his pocket. "If you think of anything else that could help us—"

"Just be thankful I'm not going to report you," Velovsky cut him off, ignoring the proffered card.

With one final glare at Ron and Stephanie, he headed for the door.

"I have a question," Laurel spoke up hesitantly as Velovsky maneuvered past her. "Jonah and Jordan have their private tel system. What's to keep Torvald from having one of his own?"

"Good question," Ron said soberly, looking over at his eldest son. "Jonah?"

"Very good question, actually," Jonah said, grimacing. "As long as he's got Garth working for him, there's no real reason why he can't."

"Actually," Fierenzo said, "he does."

"How do you know?" Zenas asked.

"Jonah said that tracer was a pair of carrier transmitters without a mike or anything else," Fierenzo said. "Can someone show me where that particular component would be on a tel?"

"About here," Ron said, holding up his hand and pointing to a spot just below the little finger.

"About the size of the tracer itself?" Fierenzo asked.

"About that," Ron agreed. "Why?"

"I had a close look at it," Fierenzo said. "It was roughly circular, but not exactly, and the edge was slightly ragged in at least two places."

"Which means what?" Zenas asked, sounding puzzled.

"Which means it wasn't something Garth or Torvald had prepared beforehand, ready to go in case Roger showed up," Fierenzo explained. "It was instead hastily cut out of something else. What could that have been except an actual tel?"

"Or a pair of tels," Stephanie murmured.

"Correction noted." Fierenzo looked at Jonah. "Jonah, you told us that the frequency couple your tels operate on are the safest to use as far as leakage into the main system is concerned. Yet I take it the tracer wasn't running on that exact pair?"

Jonah nodded. "It was close to our frequency couple—that's why we got feedback when they were together—but not exactly on it."

"That's what I thought," Fierenzo said, nodding. "So if yours was the safest frequency couple, why didn't Garth use it when he made up a new batch for Torvald's crowd?"

Ron snapped a pair of massive fingers. "Because he knew Jonah might still have his pair lying around," he said. "He didn't want to take the chance we might be able to listen in on Torvald's private business."

"That was my conclusion, too," Fierenzo said. "And now we come to the interesting bit. Did you and Stephanie have any trouble after you left our meeting at the Marriott yesterday? Specifically, did anyone seem to be following you, or come to your house later, or confront you with accusations about collaboration with the enemy?"

"No, of course not," Stephanie protested. "Don't you think we'd have told you if we had?"

"Of course I do," Fierenzo soothed her, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "But I had to ask. That's it, then."

"That's what?" Ron asked.

"The answer," Fierenzo told him. "I know who has Melantha."

There was a moment of stunned silence. "You what?" Jonah demanded. "Why didn't you say so before?"

"Because I didn't know before," Fierenzo said. "Torvald's tracer was the last piece of the puzzle."

"You've lost me," Zenas said, his hand gripping Laurel's.

"It's very simple," Fierenzo told him. "We know now that Torvald's been able to track Roger's movements since Friday afternoon. That's how he found out where Caroline and Melantha had gone that evening, in fact, after they disappeared from the Whittiers' apartment."

"But it was Halfdan's sons who nailed me in the Youngs' apartment," Roger said, frowning.

"Having probably picked you up during your side trip into Queens," Fierenzo said, nodding. "What we didn't realize until now was that there were actually two separate groups of Grays on hand: Halfdan's sons and Torvald's people."

"Probably Garth and Wolfe," Jonah murmured.

"Whoever, having that tracer let them track Roger straight into Yorkville," Fierenzo said. He looked over at Zenas and Laurel. "We also know there was at least one Green on hand, the old woman who got killed. With one of you on the scene, I gather word gets around pretty quickly."

"True," Zenas confirmed. "There were certainly other Greens already in the neighborhood. Most Manhattan parks have at least a couple of families living there, except for those in the south where Torvald's Grays have moved in."

"So what you're saying is that there could have been people from each of the different factions in the area when Melantha disappeared," Jonah said.

"Exactly, which is what had the water muddied for so long." Fierenzo pointed to Roger. "But now we know that Torvald could track Roger anywhere in Manhattan. We also now know that he didn't do anything to the McClungs after our meeting in the Marriott. Yet he could surely have made some serious political capital out of a family of Grays collaborating with the enemy. If nothing else, he could have accused Aleksander of using his Persuader tricks to torpedo the peace plan."

"So why didn't he?" Laurel asked.

"Because he didn't know about the meeting," Fierenzo told her. "And why not? Because he wasn't paying attention to the tracer.

"Because he didn't care anymore what Roger did."

Roger caught his breath. "Because he already had Melantha!"

"Bingo," Fierenzo said with grim satisfaction. "So now all we have to do is figure out where he's got her stashed."

"It can't be his studio," Roger said, trying to think it through. "There's no room, and he has other Grays going in and out." He looked at Ron and Stephanie. "Unless you think Halfdan could be in on it, too."

"Not Halfdan." Ron was positive. "He was very intent on making the peace plan work. If he knew where Melantha was, he would have taken her straight back to Cyril."

"He can't be hiding her anywhere on Manhattan, either," Zenas added. "He couldn't take the chance that some Green might wander close enough to hear her."

"What about Queens or Brooklyn?" Fierenzo asked. "Those are your original strongholds, aren't they?"

"Actually, they're mostly Halfdan's strongholds now," Ron said. "Torvald and the majority of his supporters moved into lower Manhattan as soon as they found out the Greens were here."

"So she's outside the city?" Jordan demanded anxiously. "But that could be anywhere."

"It could," Fierenzo agreed. "But don't forget that the farther away he puts her, the riskier it is for him. He has to have people taking care of her, and that means traveling to and from their homes."

He gestured to Jonah and Jordan. "You saw how fast word traveled that you two had come up missing, and you know better than I do how much finagling it took to cover up Jonah's absence from his sentry post. I doubt Torvald would risk his caretakers being gone so long that they attracted that same sort of attention."

"Unless she's already—" Jonah threw a hooded look at the Greens.

"No," Fierenzo said firmly. "Torvald wouldn't risk killing her until and unless he was sure she wouldn't be more useful alive than dead."

"And now that he knows about Damian, he'll be taking even better care of her," Roger pointed out.

"Absolutely," Fierenzo agreed.

"So what's the answer?" Zenas asked. "If she's not in the city, and she's not very far out of the city, where is she?"

"Only one place I can think of that's close enough and has the necessary privacy," Fierenzo said, grimacing. "Unfortunately, I'm not sure it really limits our search that much."

"The transport!" Stephanie exclaimed suddenly, sitting upright in her chair. "It's right offshore somewhere, with easy access to the city."

"And undoubtedly out of range of any passing Greens," Ron added with a growing excitement of his own. "That has to be it."

"That's what I'm thinking," Fierenzo agreed. "The question is how we find it. Ron?"

The growing excitement faded from Ron's face. "I have no idea," he confessed. "I've never been aboard it. I don't think I know anyone who has."

"Garth has," Jonah said sourly. "Some of our fancier electronic stuff is still stored down there. You want me to ask him?"

There was the sound of a clearing throat from over by the door. Roger turned; and to his surprise he saw Velovsky standing there quietly, still in his hat and coat. "I thought you'd left," he said.

Velovsky shook his head, his eyes on Zenas and Laurel. "You don't need to call in any Grays," he said. His voice still sounded uncomfortable, but its earlier antagonism was gone. "I know where it is."

Roger stared at him. "You're kidding."

Velovsky shook his head again. "It was after the Grays had moved in and established themselves," he said, coming somewhat reluctantly back into the main part of the room. "I'd made a record of some of their addresses, and I used to go into Queens a couple times a month and just watch them for awhile. Just to see how they were doing."

He smiled tightly. "I had a terrible urge sometimes to walk up to one of them and tell him that I knew who and what he was, just to see what kind of reaction I'd get. But I knew it would tip them off that the Greens were here, too. Anyway, I would also sometimes follow one of them, just to see where Grays went and what they did.

"One day, I followed one onto the Staten Island Ferry."

Silently, Laurel stood up and held out her hands. A half smile flickered across Velovsky's face as he slipped off his coat and handed it and his hat to her. "My curiosity was aroused," he continued, "so I followed him to a place on the northeast shore that had a bunch of old beach supply sheds scattered around with No Trespassing signs plastered all over them. He went straight to one of them, unlocked the door, and went inside. I waited around, wondering what was going on. When he came out half an hour later, he was carrying a flat box under his arm."

"Do you remember what time of year that was?" Ron asked.

Velovsky squeezed his eyes shut. "I know it was spring," he said slowly. "The weather was nice that day, but it had been raining most of the previous week. Probably late April."

Ron nodded. "Tels and hammerguns for the May 5th coming-of-age ceremony," he said. "All Grays who've passed their tenth birthday are formally inducted into the rights and responsibilities of adulthood at that time."

"You kept your extra hammerguns in the transport?" Zenas asked.

"We kept all our spare electronics down there in those days," Ron said. "We were afraid of having anything potentially incriminating in our apartments or businesses, so things were only brought up from the transport as they were needed."

"We sometimes had people working around the clock in there making new equipment," Stephanie added.

"Not any more, I hope," Fierenzo said.

Ron shook his head. "All our workshops are elsewhere in the city. The transport itself is mostly empty these days."

"Except for one very special resident, we hope." Fierenzo looked at Velovsky. "And you're sure this shed you saw is still there?"

Velovsky nodded. "I've been back a couple of times, just walking around and watching. I never spotted another Gray going in or out, but I doubt they've moved the transport."

"Actually, according to Aleksander, neither side can risk doing that," Roger said. "Too much danger of the Coast Guard spotting it."

"That's it, then," Fierenzo concluded. "Anyone fancy a late-night drive to Staten Island?"

"You mean tonight?" Zenas asked, frowning.

"Why not?" Fierenzo asked. "At this point delays gain us absolutely nothing."

"I'll go with you," Jordan said eagerly, holding up his head.

"Me, too," Jonah seconded.

"Count us in," Zenas confirmed.

"Might as well make it a party," Ron added. "When do we start?"

"Not for another few hours," Fierenzo told him. "We need to let the streets clear out first."

"I don't know," Velovsky said doubtfully. "That beach shed is pretty small. A big crowd of you might wind up just getting in each other's way."

He looked at Zenas and Laurel. "At any rate, I don't think you two in particular should be there."

"But she's our daughter," Laurel said.

"And the transport is the ultimate Gray stronghold," Velovsky pointed out. "News of a Green intrusion there wouldn't sit very well with them."

"He's probably right," Ron said reluctantly. "Torvald doesn't need any more ammunition against us than he's already got."

"By the same token," Velovsky went on, turning to the Grays, "it wouldn't be a good idea for any of you to go, either. Unless you plan to kill whoever's in there, they'll surely be able to identify you afterward. That would hand Torvald the same political capital Detective Fierenzo talked about earlier."

"They're already after Jordan and me," Jonah pointed out.

"But they have no proof you were involved in Melantha's rescue," Velovsky reminded him.

"You'll still need one of us," Ron spoke up. "I don't know how the security's been set up, but it'll be something only Grays can get through."

"That's me, then," Jonah said. "Like I said, I can't get into any hotter water than I'm already in."

"Mr. Velovsky?" Fierenzo prompted.

Velovsky grimaced. "He can get us through their security," he said. "But after that, he stands aside."

Jonah grimaced in turn, but nodded. "All right."

"So who exactly is going?" Roger asked, looking at Fierenzo. "You and me?"

Fierenzo shrugged. "Torvald can't have more than a couple of caretakers on duty at any given time."

"Yeah—Gray caretakers," Roger reminded him. "Big guys with hammerguns and attitude."

"I've got a gun, too," Fierenzo reminded him.

"And what are you going to do with it?" Roger retorted. "Kill them? I thought the whole idea here was to avoid bloodshed."

"I've also got a badge, and the authority to use it," Fierenzo said, starting to sound a little impatient.

"But if you don't want to go, just say so. I can always call in a S.W.A.T. team."

"You know you can't do that," Roger said disgustedly. "Fine. Let's make it a twosome."

"Let's make it a threesome," Velovsky corrected. "I'm going in, too."

"You?" Roger asked disbelievingly.

"What, you think I'm old?" Velovsky demanded, lifting his eyebrows in challenge.

"I appreciate your willingness, Mr. Velovsky," Fierenzo said. "But Roger's right. You just show us to the place, and we'll call it even."

"No," Velovsky said, shaking his head. "I want to see firsthand the condition Melantha's in and how they've been treating her."

"A little political capital for the Green side?" Jonah suggested tartly.

"Let me put it another way," Velovsky said, gazing evenly at him. "Detective Fierenzo seems a little too friendly with you Grays for my taste. Mr. Whittier is an unknown quantity; but he certainly defied the will of the Greens by hiding Melantha from them. I want someone on this expedition who I can trust to genuinely look after Green interests."

"I think you're misjudging us," Fierenzo said calmly. "You're certainly misjudging me. But that's okay. If you want to come along, we'll be glad to have you."

"But you're not going in there unarmed," Stephanie said firmly, standing up. "Are you right-handed, Mr. Velovsky?"

Something flicked across Velovsky's face. "Yes," he said cautiously.

"Good." Pushing up her right sleeve, she did something to her wristband and snapped it open.

"Here," she said, stepping over to him and holding it out. "Take my hammergun."

For a moment the room was silent. Velovsky stared at her, the lines in his face deepening as she continued to hold the wristband toward him. Then, slowly, he pushed back his right sleeve and held out his arm. She adjusted the metal around his forearm and snapped it closed. "It takes a bit of practice to learn how to throw it," she warned. "But Detective Fierenzo said you had a few hours.

We can teach you."

"You gave me your weapon," Velovsky said, his voice sounding odd.

"You may need it," she said simply, sitting down again.

"She's right," Ron added, heaving his bulk to his feet, his wristband already unfastened and in his hand. "Give me your arm, Roger."

Jonah nudged his brother. "Jordan?" he prompted.

"But mine's left-handed," Jordan objected.

"That's okay," Jonah said, looking at Fierenzo. "I'm sure the detective can shoot perfectly well with either hand."

"Not really," Fierenzo said, pushing up his left sleeve. "But as Stephanie said, we've got time to practice."

"And to hear all about your plan?" Roger suggested, wincing a little as Ron wrapped the cold metal around his forearm.

"Yeah, a plan would be nice," Fierenzo agreed. "Let's see if we can come up with one."