Cloud Rebel (R-D #3)(62)

*

Unofficial communication from:

Geethe Cheriss, Prime Potentate of Lyristolys

To: Outland Commander Fisk Boralus

Subject: Capture

I am unsurprised by Keef's shapeshifting ability—he reveals the serpent I always imagined him to be. Condolences on the loss of two of yours from their wounds in capturing Keef. Keep him unconscious as much as possible. Threaten the death of his companion if he fails to cooperate. You understand the importance that their bodies be found elsewhere—I do not wish to have another conversation with Deonus Wyyld. I suggest you implement your plans quickly—I want this situation resolved very soon.

*

Morrett read the message a second time—quickly, before Fisk came back. It would be destroyed, just like all the others. Fisk's footsteps at their hotel door in Paris caused Morrett to retreat to his corner, where the comp-vid he was allowed to read lay waiting.

When Fisk arrived, there was no evidence that Morrett had ever moved from his corner. With hooded eyes, he watched as Fisk erased the message from Geethe Cheriss before stuffing the comp-vid in a trouser pocket.

Morrett knew some of the plans Fisk had for Earth.

They terrified him.

Fisk was about to unleash the first wave of attacks, and many would die. Morrett huddled farther into his corner and searched desperately through his comp-vid for a favorite story to read.

*

Ilya

Someone I didn't know had been placed in charge of our group. He was CIA, but claimed he worked for Matt Michaels.

That was a lie.

The name and title he gave—Lead Agent Milton Smith—also a lie.

We were scheduled to infiltrate the grounds surrounding former President Phillips' home in Alexandria at midnight. Lead Agent Smith told us Phillips was out of town.

Another lie.

Did he not know with whom he was dealing?

I wished for Corinne, however, to read in him exactly what he knew and what his intentions were. I also wished for the opportunity for a quiet word with Jennifer and Brett. Lead Agent Smith didn't want that, as he had someone with us constantly while we waited at a facility located in Silver Spring.

Most of the day, Smith's agents worked all around us, checking their weapons, studying the layout of the property and examining the architectural details of the home. Much discussion was had in order to determine the best place to breach the security in place—both electronic and human. The three of us were neither consulted nor offered weapons of any kind.

What did they expect us to do if we ran into trouble? Yes, I could likely take care of myself and Brett—well—I assumed he could, too, if he chose his other shape. Jen—I had no idea whether Maye's talents in martial arts had transferred to Jen. She'd certainly never mentioned it if they had.

I suspected that the agents going in with us knew that Phillips would be in residence, and that deadly force was not only permissible, but required. I had no idea whether they'd been instructed to kill anyone they found, but found myself concerned about the possibility.

After all—Phillips had a Secret Service detail assigned and always would—as long as he was deemed alive. Wherever he was, they would be, too.

I disliked the fact that they could be considered collateral damage, without first determining whether they were involved in the Phillips clone's machinations.

In that respect, Corinne had certainly influenced me. In my early days, it wouldn't have concerned me much. After my son's death and my relationship began with Corinne, things had certainly changed.

I love you, Cabbage, I sent to her.

Honey, be careful, she replied. Things are looking rather grim from where we are, and I doubt you're in for a picnic, tonight. Don't forget—you can get yourself out of there if you need to, and take Jen and Brett with you. Don't wait for the worst to happen.

I understood what she meant, although she hadn't said it. If I hadn't hesitated to kill the original Phillips, he'd never have placed his obsession.

I will, I promised.

Call if you need me, she added.

I will.

I love you, too. Don't ever forget that.

I will never forget.

*

Notes—Colonel Hunter

"What is it?" I asked. "In English," I added. Shaw was on the phone, talking psych gibberish while I attempted to decipher what he meant.

"Farrell may blow this all to kingdom come," Shaw snapped. "I just got off the phone with him. He doesn't know I'm out of the country, and he's threatening to go to whomever or whatever, to force Granville to remove Jen from tonight's plans and bring her to him instead."

"What the bloody hell is happening to everybody?" I shouted. Frankly, I wanted to put a fist through one of my office walls, but that would place me in the same rubber room with Farrell.

It was during the brief moments it took to dial Farrell's cell phone—I intended to tell him to stay put until I could send someone to pick him up—that it actually happened.

Of course, the news didn't reach us until half an hour later, but when it did, it was devastating. I'd seen video of events from the past where the course of our nation and that of the world was changed forever.

This—this could be the death knell. I knew it. I hoped the President and every other world leader understood that, too. Sarin gas, in a widespread distribution, had been dropped by near-silent drones onto the streets of Paris, especially those crowded with night tourists.