Alien Collective (40 page)

T
HE DINGO NODDED.
“A particularly nasty one, yes.”

“That’s why you knew what to look for this time, it’s a signature poison for our enemies.”

“Yes,” Surly Vic said. “Ricin is easy to make but hard to survive.”

“Fabulous. Thank you again, even more, for all you’ve done for us.”

“We are happy to help you,” the Dingo said. “You help us as well.”

“Yes, speaking of that . . . I’m sure it’s against protocol, but can you tell me who hired you to kill Chernobog?”

They both looked pleased. “You figured it out?” the Dingo asked.

“Yeah. I know where she is, too. But, I need to talk to her, and get things back from her that she took. And, if possible . . . get her to help me. And she can’t do that if she’s dead.”

“We cannot disclose our client, in part because we don’t know who it is, specifically, ordering the job. However I can tell you that the contract came to us through the U.S. government. Your government is one of our best clients these days, since Raul was eliminated.”

“Aha, well, that confirms our expectations—that the Mastermind is up there politically in some way. Was the hiring organization the C.I.A.?”

“No. And that’s all I can tell you.” The Dingo looked at me seriously. “We do have to complete the assignment.”

“Yeah, I know. But does it have to be this week?”

“Yes, it was requested to happen before the National Convention next week.”

“That’s a big coinkydink and I’ve been trained not to believe in them. Therefore, logic says it’s totally related to what’s going on. My bet is that the Mastermind is who hired you, him more than the government, I mean, and he wants to get rid of Chernobog before she can have a change of heart in any way, or leverage what she has to the highest bidder.”

“That could be, in which case the assignment would work against what we want, personally. However, unless you can prove this contract is not actually condoned by your government . . .” The Dingo spread his hands out. “We have a job to do.”

“I know. But I’m wondering—could the three of us come with you? Or, rather, do you want to come with us? We’re heading over there, and we can get there faster than you can. I want to talk to Chernobog, and she might be a lot more chatty if the two of you are with me than not.”

“We were not planning on an up close and personal elimination,” Surly Vic said.

“Yeah, but I know you’re more than capable of it. I have no idea how formidable Chernobog is physically, especially at her age, but nothing makes you play nicely with others like the two best assassins in the world asking you to.”

“She’ll want to bargain, and we have no leeway,” the Dingo pointed out.

“Well, as to that, I have an idea. Can you return your fee and refuse the job? If she’s willing to cooperate, I mean. If she’s not, by all means, kill her.”

“You would allow that?” the Dingo asked.

“She’s the reason we lost all our data, and she made it easy for our enemies to kidnap and murder our people. People we loved. A lot. Yeah, I’d allow it.”

“I want to ask her some questions before we kill her,” Serene said quickly. “Not that I’m condoning killing her.”

“We enjoy being paid,” Surly Vic said.

“My idea includes you getting paid. Just potentially not for killing Chernobog.”

“The fee is quite high,” the Dingo said.

“And I’ll bet Chernobog has access to all that and more.”

“It’s against the rules to allow your target to bribe you,” Surly Vic shared.

“But it’s not unheard of, I’m sure. Besides, as your protégé Siler likes to say, the enemy of our enemy is our friend. And I think we can show Chernobog that we’re her friends. And if that’s the case, then I can say with some confidence that we can set it up so everyone’s happy, alive, and paid what they expected to be if not more.”

The Dingo said something to Surly Vic in Russian, who replied in kind. At least I assumed it was Russian. Sounded like Yuri only no curse words, so Russian or a similar language. They stepped a few feet away and carried on their conversation.

“Care to share your plan?” White asked quietly. “Both of you?”

“Once we know if they’re buying in or not on mine. But I’d like to know what Serene wants to ask Chernobog.”

“I want to know what she did to Imageering. I don’t believe what the others do, that it’s something they were able to put into the digital airwaves. That explanation made sense at the time, but if that’s what it was, we should have been able to counter it by now, and we haven’t.”

“That could just mean we haven’t found the right digital bits or whatever, you know. Hacker International’s been mostly focused on data reclamation and the Hunt for Red Chernobog.”

“Yes, but they have been working on it about a quarter of the time and can’t find anything. Plus, if the virus was in the digital airwaves somehow, we should still be able to read film, and most of Imageering can’t even do that anymore. It’s impossible for something digital to move to film, and even more impossible for it to move to old prints. Most imageers can’t read photos from when they were children anymore. We’re getting weaker in the talent, not stronger, and I think, especially because we’re dealing with people who use bio-weapons, that they poisoned us somehow.”

White and I let that one sit on the air while the assassins argued quietly. “How would they do it?” I asked finally. “If that’s what happened?”

“My guess is that they isolated a gas or poison that would affect imageering talent and only imageering talent. I have no idea how, though. But the empaths aren’t affected—they can still feel as long as there are no blockers or enhancers around. Same with troubadours. No dream readers have identified restrictions or loss of powers. It’s just the imageers.”

“Why target them?” White asked.

“I can think of why. Realistically, it’s your most potent talent. A good con artist could imitate an empath’s abilities, maybe not to Jeff’s level, but good enough for the average mark. It’s the same with a good actor imitating the troubadour talent. You don’t have a lot of dream and memory readers anyway. But imageering talent is like magic—touch a picture, know all about the person shown, manipulate the images as you see fit. You’ve used the talent for good, but it’s terrifying if you think about it clinically.”

“But they didn’t do whatever they did because they were afraid of the talent,” White said.

“Actually, I’d say that fear is exactly why they did whatever. We took pictures today—a little over a year ago, Serene would have been able to tell us which of those people in the mob were our enemies and which weren’t. Today? We’re reliant on facial recognition software, not imageers. And, specifically, a little over a year ago, if Serene or Christopher had touched the right picture, they’d have known who the Mastermind was, and where he was.”

“Christopher used a camera to reassure Amy she was fully human,” White said slowly. “Meaning he could tell if, say, Cameron Maurer was a human or an android.”

“Past tense. Because he can’t any more. Other than using Tito’s OVS or ripping Maurer’s head off.”

“That means the Mastermind isn’t just politically connected, but is someone who is either a public figure or close enough to us that one of our imageers touching a picture would be a likely risk,” White pointed out. “I’d assume Christopher is who they’re trying to avoid.”

“Probably. As for how they did it, speaking of Christopher, they had him as a drugged out, unwilling guinea pig for far too long. Plus, LaRue went to Alpha Four before she took off for space parts unknown. And I’ll wager the Z’porrah were more than happy to help with whatever experiments would mean they could screw us over. Bottom line, I think Serene’s on the right track. So we need to know what they released, and if it’s still out there somewhere.”

“It’s worldwide,” Serene said. “But it would only have to have been released in the Science Center. Every imageer will come to Dulce at least once a year for mandatory routine checkups.”

“Yeah, this I actually know. It’s required for all talented A-Cs, whether they’re in active roles or not, right?”

Serene nodded. “And we had all personnel come in after we were infiltrated, too, as a security measure, to ensure all were okay worldwide.” She looked ill. “That’s our standard practice. Richard’s right—the Mastermind knows us well.”

“We will go along with your plan for now,” the Dingo said as he and Surly Vic rejoined us. “Though we would like to know how you plan to get close to Chernobog without us all being detected.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Serene said brightly. “You two just need to change clothes.”

“I
CAN’T BELIEVE WE’RE DOING THIS,”
the Dingo muttered to me.

“Oh, come on. I know for a fact you two have done undercover work before. Besides, you look good.”

They did. Serene’s plan was brilliant in its simplicity. Dress the assassins in the Armani Fatigues, so they looked like any other human Field agents. And the Head of Imageering showing up with a couple of Field agents for protection wouldn’t cause anyone at Home Base to even blink.

The Elves had come through with our clothing requests, and it had been easy enough to sneak two extremely sneaky people into the Embassy, especially since we were on the roof anyway. We hadn’t even used hyperspeed.

Getting past everyone in the kitchen hadn’t been hard, either. Serene stopped in to say we were leaving while White and I got the Dingo and Surly Vic downstairs into the basement.

What to do with all the equipment our assassins had was the bigger issue. They refused to travel without it, and I didn’t want to leave it at the Embassy anyway. White solved this by requesting two of our nifty cloaked missile launcher cases, minus missiles. The assassins put their guns and other equipment, backpacks included, into the cases, and hit the cloaking button.

“Amazing,” Surly Vic said, as he turned his case back to visible and then cloaked it again. The Dingo nodded with enthusiasm as he tested his case as well. Had a feeling they were going to ask for these cases as parting gifts. Had a worse feeling that I was going to let them have them.

Focused on flowers, lest Jeff be choosing this moment to monitor me. I’d found out it didn’t do much more than tell him I wanted privacy, but so far, that had meant he’d ignored me, so hope again sprang eternal.

White spun the wheel and calibrated the gate. “You’re sure we want to use the internal gates at the base, not the exterior one?”

“Yes. We won’t have a lot of time and we don’t want to get held up.”

“I agree with Kitty,” Serene said. “When Tim, James, and I go over, we usually use the internal gates.” Most gates were in bathrooms. Every airport in the world, even the tiniest, had a bathroom with a gate in it. Home Base, however, also had a regular bank of gates in their Administration building, so that important people didn’t have to go in and out of the most active human-alien base in the world via the toilet.

“We have to go one at a time,” White warned me. “And normal procedure would be for one of the Field agents to go first and one last.”

“Uncles Peter and Victor, who wants to go first?”

“I will,” the Dingo said. “Victor will bring up the rear.”

“Peter, Serene, myself, Missus Martini, and Victor, then,” White said. “Agreed.”

“Yes,” Serene said. “Let’s do this.” I saw her shift her expression, just slightly. She looked like Innocence on the Hoof again. She was good. Complimented myself on my hiring skills.

We went through, one at a time. I had the “pleasure” of watching three people do the icky, slow fade in front of me. At the last second, changed my mind. “You go before me. It won’t throw anyone.”

Surly Vic chuckled. “Everyone has their fears. What happens if I go through, but hold your hand and you follow after?”

“I honestly have no freaking idea. For all I know, nothing happens, we lose our hands, or we’re conjoined forever. It’s sort of a mystery to me how these things really work. Though Jeff carries me through all the time. But the gates have to be calibrated for that.”

“What is life without risk?” With that, he grabbed my hand and stepped through the gate, pulling me after him.

It was nauseating, but a little less so, mostly because I was too busy wondering if we were about to channel
The Fly
or worse. I stumbled out, though, and it was good Surly Vic still had hold of my hand or I’d have fallen.

Administration was one of the more bustling areas of Home Base, in part because it housed a typical military headquarters setup. As with Dulce’s Bat Cave level, there were lots of terminals and screens of all sizes, many desks with papers, many busy and intent Air Force personnel, but fewer busy and intent A-Cs than I’d seen here in the past. Under the circumstances, didn’t figure this was a good sign.

“See?” Surly Vic said quietly as he let go of me. “We still have our hands.”

Nodded but didn’t speak, in part because I wanted to be sure my stomach was settling and in other part because Serene was talking to some airmen.

“Oh, I’m sure I have an appointment. It’s on all our calendars.” She sounded like the sweetest ditz in the world.

Serene was a Dazzler, and as Surly Vic had made clear earlier, she, like every other Dazzler, was a hottie. The human airmen she was talking to weren’t immune, especially because I could tell she was sending out flirt signals.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but . . .” one of the airmen said regretfully. “But the colonel is in closed doors all day.”

“Maybe we could help you,” the other airman suggested eagerly.

White cleared his throat and stepped up. “We were told it was urgent. We left a very important meeting for this. I’d like to see, for myself, why your colonel has asked for half of Alpha Team to come to a meeting he now won’t let us join.”

The airmen still looked unsure. Time for me to take a crack at it. “As far as I recall, Commander Dwyer outranks every single person on this base, potentially even the colonel. I have no problem calling in the rest of Alpha Team and having Commanders Reader and Crawford ask you in far less pleasant ways why the hell we’re still standing here. Nor do I have a problem reminding you of my diplomatic status. My husband is both a Representative in Congress and also running for vice president. How much of an incident do you two want to create? Or, let me put this another way—take us to your leader or I get really prickly about American Centaurion being insulted and call many people to complain, all of them far above your pay grades.”

That seemed to do it. Clearly these two were more stick than carrot focused. Pity for them. The airmen nodded. “Follow us, please,” the first one said.

The building was huge, and one side of it was given over to a giant gate, similar to the two at the Dome, that was used to send and receive heavy equipment or transfer large numbers of personnel. There was also a huge sliding door by which vehicles entered or left the building, and the related transfer staging area. The gate wasn’t active, the doors were closed, and there weren’t any vehicles or personnel in the staging area.

We weren’t headed there, but rather to the back, toward the private conference rooms and offices of high-ranking personnel.

Home Base’s set up wasn’t as fancy as Andrews, but the commanding officer still had a bathroom and conference room attached to his office, and his secretary’s office was basically the antechamber to all of this.

However, there was a Do Not Disturb sign on the outer door, the one leading into the secretary’s office. All the blinds were down and closed as well.

One of the airmen knocked politely. There was no answer. Exchanged a glance with the Dingo and Surly Vic. They both looked suspicious. Good, so was I.

“We’ll take it from here,” I said quietly.

“But—” the one who’d been doing most of the talking started.

“That’s an order,” Serene said, in a voice that had absolutely no ditz attached to it. “We will let ourselves in. Dismissed.”

The airmen nodded, and scuttled off.

“What do we expect to find?” White asked.

“Oh, could be anything, but my money’s on Chernobog holding someone hostage. Maybe many someones.”

“You think the team that hasn’t checked in is here?” White certainly sounded like he thought so.

“I think there’s a real possibility of it, yeah. One way or the other, there’s something going on that Chernobog doesn’t want anyone to know about.”

“The name she’s using here is Zoya Darnell,” Serene said.

“She went with a Russian first name? She’s not worried about being found out, is she?”

“I would imagine that if you’re the best at what you do and no one can find you, there must be a certain thrill to hiding in plain sight,” White suggested.

“She’s been found,” the Dingo said darkly.

“We hope. How are we doing this?”

“I’ll go in first,” Serene said. “Be ready in case someone shoots at us.” And with that cheery warning, she opened the door.