Cloud Invasion: R-D 2 (R-D #2)(80)

"Are we included in the meeting with Director Michaels?" Ilya asked.

"Yes."

"Good."

"Cori, we're hoping you can do something about this," Auggie pleaded.

"Auggie, I can't detect those things with my radar. To me, that says the enemy had something to do with that."

"It's almost like he can be in several places at once," Nick growled.

"Nick, that's the scariest thing I've heard today, and that includes nuclear war with the insurgents," I said.

"What about photographs? We have some of Zoran and his aides," Auggie suggested. "Think you can tell anything from those?"

"I sure as hell hope so," I said. "If not, we're working at this problem blindfolded."

*

Matt was there when the photographs were handed to me. I stared at President Zoran for a long time.

"Cori, you'd better tell me something soon," Auggie begged.

"Auggie-this is f*cked up-just like he's f*cked up," I handed the photograph back to him, as if he could see what I did in Zoran's eyes. "There's a cloud on his brain, like some of the others I've seen, but there's also some confusion in him, too, that I've never detected in any others. He knows he should be more powerful and in better control, but it's as if something stronger came along and is preventing that, somehow."

"You're right-that's f*cked up," Matt agreed. "I don't suppose you can see who the stronger one is?"

"Nope-that's part of the fog on his brain," I confirmed. "Like what he truly is has been completely blocked by that fog. I can't see through it."

"Does he have knowledge of the warheads?" Matt asked.

"If he does, it's hiding behind the fog, too. I get the idea he didn't issue those orders; somebody else did."

"Baikov, or his clone," Auggie sat back in his chair with a shake of his head.

"More than possible," I said. "But it could also be our enemy making his presence known."

"How the hell is he going to take a country back, if important parts of said country have been blown to bits by nuclear warheads?" Auggie's voice was a near-shout.

"A play for time, perhaps?" Ilya suggested. "To mollify the insurgents after the failure of the rockets? After all, those warheads are useless without the proper launch codes."

"True," Matt nodded thoughtfully. "Still, they must want something from the insurgents, other than to keep them from bombing the Kremlin whenever they get their undies in a twist."

"It's a cinch the insurgents didn't pay for those rockets, so it can't be because they paid good money for nothing," Opal said. "We've determined that the mastermind behind all this is funding their operation, anyway."

"With stolen crowns, et cetera and so forth," Nick agreed.

"From the sale of stolen crowns, et cetera," I clarified. Sadly, an Asian dictator to be named later was in possession of most of it.

"True," Nick acknowledged my clarification. "Do you think it's all a ploy to discredit Madam President?" He directed the question to Auggie.

"Possibly," Auggie replied. "We've thought that all along, though."

"Six warheads," Opal mused. "Who would be the biggest targets, if they wanted to piss everybody off?" She tapped her chin with a finger as she turned her gaze on Matt.

"I thought they already pissed everybody off with the plane bombings," Nick offered.

"But that's been tied to Russia," Maye began. "Oh. You think?"

"They'll point fingers at the insurgents, and my money's on the fact that they'll make that theory stick, somehow," Matt rose from his chair in a rush. "After all, we never saw the ones on the mountain in Colombia, firing those rockets. The one in Argentina was a known enemy of the Russian government, who could have sided with the insurgents. We only know the Russians were supplying the rockets. Don't we?"

"Coupled with the fact that they're setting their planes down in South America and Cuba-and flying on the edge of U.S. airspace," Ilya added.

"It'll only take a photograph or two-conveniently provided by them or a South American government-to point a finger at the insurgents, who'd just love to put those notches on their belts anyway, regardless of whether they were responsible or not," Auggie nodded.

"This is more than confusing," Richard said.

"Twisted mind, twisted plot," Matt said.

"I'm beginning to agree with that assessment," I said. Ilya's arms draped around me as he pulled me back against his chest. He understood, just as I did, that somewhere, somehow, a madman was in charge and killing as many as possible to further his sick agenda.

*

"I'm sorry about your honeymoon," Auggie took a seat at the kitchen island, looking droopier than a bloodhound.

"There's no way I could stay on a honeymoon when this sort of crap is happening," I said.

"Corinne, what will you do if those missiles are fired?"

"You know what I'd do," I said, turning away and opening our makeshift liquor cabinet. Ice cubes clinked into a glass as Ilya dropped them in; I poured Scotch for Auggie. Ilya set the glass in front of him, before pouring a glass for himself.