Why? Why no overt aggression? Did they save that for elsewhere—pitched battles in interdimensional space? Were there rules for dealing with sentient species?
Cal had come to the conclusion that this cosmic game—and that was what it seemed to be—had no hard and fast rules, but rather guidelines that compelled each side to act without revealing itself. Perhaps they had a scoring system that awarded style points to the side that could gain or keep the upper hand with the most elegant medley of obscurity and elan.
And perhaps he was way off base. Maybe the human mind was incapable of making any sense of the forces in play here.
He did know he was a pawn—but a willing, enthusiastic pawn. If he had to be part of this game, he preferred to know the score than be an unwitting puppet.
The door chimed. Jolliff stepped to the monitors and checked the front door camera. He pressed the unlock button and smiled as he looked up.
"It's Miller."
Miller stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
"Sorry I'm late. Didn't get the message till a few minutes ago."
Probably with one of his hookers, Cal thought, knowing Miller alternated between two favorites.
More power to him. A night of heavy sex usually left him mellow. Well, relatively so. Cal sensed that a truly mellow Miller might violate some law of nature.
The Oculus gave him a quick rundown of the Alarm.
That done, Cal looked around at his fellow yeniceri.
"All right. You've heard the Oculus. The Ally wants this woman gone. Does anybody want the job? If not, we draw straws."
Miller said, "Maybe we should give Zeklos another chance." Then he smirked. "Not."
This earned a few laughs.
Then Miller said, "I'll take it."
Cal wasn't often thankful for Miller's heart of stone, but this was one of those times. He was about to hand him the job when the 0 interrupted him.
"The Alarm showed you at the wheel."
At first Cal thought the 0 was simply confirming the obvious choice, but then noticed that he was looking at him.
His stomach plummeted.
"Me?"
The 0 nodded.
"You don't look so hot, Davis," Miller said with what passed for a grin. "What's the matter? Getting a case of Zeklositis?"
Members of his little faction yukked it up as Zeklos reddened. Shaking his head the little man turned toward the door, raising his middle finger over his shoulder as he left.
Cal watched him go, then forced his face into a neutral expression. Inside, he wanted to run from the room.
Why me when Miller gets off on this kind of thing?
His tongue felt like tortoise hide as he spoke. "All right. I'm in the hot seat. So be it."
"Put me down for pickup duty," Miller said. "That way, if Davis misses, I'll close the deal."
Cal glanced at his watch—10:25—then at the yeniceri.
"We've got three hours to steal a truck and the cars and put everything in place. Let's move it."
He half hoped a car would hit him as he crossed the street outside. He'd take the pain if it meant he'd be spared what was to come.
10
"Gia?" Jack said as he stepped into her front foyer.
He'd made good time from A.C. and had rushed across town to Sutton Square. When she hadn't answered his ring, he'd let himself in.
The old townhouse felt empty but he did a quick search of all floors—even the never-used fourth—and found no one and nothing out of place. Nothing suspicious. No sign of a struggle. Her winter coat and her handbag were missing from the front closet.
What he did find, however, was Gia's cell phone in its charging cradle in the kitchen.
So, only one conclusion he could make: She'd gone out and forgotten her cell phone. Wouldn't be the first time. No sign of foul play, so why this vague feeling of dread?
Jack headed for the door. He'd catch up to her later. This cyanide-tipped Starfire was burning a hole in his pocket. He needed a little yeniceri info, and knew just the man to provide it.
11
The Oculus called Davis aside as Miller and the rest prepared to debark.
Of all the yeniceri, he felt closest to Davis. He trusted them all, knew each was ready to die protecting him, but the yenigeri life had hardened many of them. Inevitable, he supposed. Not every Alarm involved violence and death, but the vast majority did. Which meant that these men were, in many ways, contract killers with one client: the Ally.
Difficult for anyone to retain his humanity under those circumstances, but the rest of their quotidian existence—no family, no permanent ties to people outside their MV unit—exacerbated the situation.
They were weapons—the Ally's spears. And spears had no branches.
The Oculi were insulated from the violence. They didn't order it, merely passed on the content of the Ally's Alarms. And they had children. Nothing was so grounding as a child. He cherished his relationship with his daughter. Diana was his jewel. Just as the yeniceri would die for him, so he would die for her.
But Davis, despite everything, had managed to maintain more of his human core. He had a hard shell, but traces of warmth and compassion remained in the heart beating within it.
"I'm sorry it had to be you," he said when Davis came to his side.
"We do what we have to do. It's all for the greater good, a cause bigger than any one person—or any three persons, right?"
The Oculus sensed that this must be the soul-saving mantra Davis would be repeating over and over to get him through this.
"We must trust the Ally."
Davis's expression was bleak. "Yeah. Trust the Ally."
"You have the vehicles?"
Davis nodded. "Snatched from the LaGuardia long-term lot. Doubtful they'll be missed too soon."
"Very well. When you return, come to my office—come alone—and we'll talk."
He had a feeling Davis would need a sympathetic ear after this ordeal was over.
The Oculus saw them off, then trudged up to his office. For what, he didn't know. He didn't want to sit and brood. Better to spend the time with Diana, drilling her on her studies. At least that would take his mind off what was about to happen.
12
"I neeeed this one Mom look at the cover isn't it neat can I have it please-please-please?"
Gia looked and saw Vicky holding up a copy of Science Verse.
She'd had a bit of a hassle taking her out of school. Seemed she wasn't the only parent who wanted to keep her child close today. But after a careful ID check and confirmation from Vicky that this woman was indeed her mother, they'd let her go.
The question then was what to do? She didn't want to take her out of school just to lock her in the house. Since Vicky had outgrown most of her spring clothes, the obvious choice was to shop. But that presented potential problems too.
Gia had decided that if they stayed away from the iconic stores—she couldn't afford Saks, Gucci, or Bergdorf's anyway—and avoided Fifth Avenue, they'd be safe.
Gia didn't expect anything to happen, but she felt more in control with Vicky at her side on Madison Avenue. Plenty of great stores for kids on Madison. They came upon a bookstore called The Tattered Page. Vicky loved books and this one sold both new and used. Who could resist?
"You want a book about science?"
Vicky's tastes usually ran to fantasy and funny wordplay. Nobody liked puns more.
"But he wrote The Stinky Cheese Manl"
"Oh, well, in that case, we'll take it."
"Neeeat!"
Gia watched as she opened the book and began reading, watched her smile, watched her eyes dance. She had her father's hair…
The thought brought back memories of Richard Westphalen. A rich, handsome, suave Englishman whose sparkling wit had swept her off her feet when she'd first come to New York. If only she'd known the man within. They'd married and she'd looked forward to a happy future. She'd been overjoyed when she learned she was pregnant, but not Richard. He revealed his true nature—"a bounder and a cad," according to his aunt Nellie—by virtually walking out on her. He hadn't wanted to be a father and told her flat out that he'd married her for the tax breaks he'd receive by becoming an American citizen.