This girl, on the other hand, not only had top marks in that area, but the graders had included notes on some particularly evil twists the young lady had devised for her hapless victims. All constituting good training, of course. Cally liked her instantly.
“Whew. Nasty. And a decent athlete, for a non-upgrade.” George nodded.
“She’s in,” Tommy echoed.
“Works for me,” Harrison said. “She’s mostly cyber support, in case anyone had forgotten. She’s solid. I’ll take creativity over rote grades any day.”
“Amy Sands it is. For now.” Cally nodded, adding her blessing to the girl who would sub into Papa’s slot. The girl’s golden brown hair and rosy cheeks just radiated midwestern wholesomeness. The kind of girl next door that nobody actually got to live next door to. They should be so lucky.
“Are you through sealing her fate?” her buckley asked.
“What’s up?”
“There’s a courier from Edisto. Non-urgent, he said. Wouldn’t hear of interrupting you, he said. It’s not my fault that everything’s going to fall apart from the late message. I told him I’d put him through, but no…”
“Shut up, buckley. Where the hell is he?”
“In the cafeteria when he called me, having a beer with a few of the guys from DAG,” the machine told her. “I’m sure by now he’s told them half the secrets of the whole island, and the latest gossip, too. But no, it wasn’t urgent, he said.”
“A few beers with… wait, is this the same courier?” Tommy asked sharply. He didn’t wait for an answer, but began striding down the hall at a fast walk.
Given his height, Cally had to jog to keep up. “Is who the same courier?” she asked.
“I don’t understand the question. Same courier as what?” the buckley asked.
“Oh, you wouldn’t know.” The big man shook his head. “The guy who brought the message about the Maises was… loquacious. Even without alcohol. I don’t know what he’s carrying, but beer, other guys, and mister diarrhea mouth doesn’t sound like a good combination.”
“Why wasn’t he benched?” Cally asked sharply.
“Hadn’t gotten to it yet. Mosovich and Mueller knew, so they would have taken care of it, it’s just…” He trailed off, shrugging.
“He’s carrying a girl,” buckley volunteered helpfully. “Well, not carrying her carrying her. He brought one with him.”
It had that worried tone it got when it couldn’t think of any specific disaster to predict. Cally resisted the bizarre urge to reassure it.
The gentleman in question looked up expectantly as they entered the cafeteria, which was otherwise mostly empty, she noticed gratefully.
The four other men pulled up around the table were unfamiliar to Cally, but her practiced eye would have made them for military, even if she hadn’t otherwise known. If there had been any doubt, it would have been cleared up when the eyes of one of them widened and he set down the beer, sitting sharply to attention, followed a split second later by the others. The courier remained in a slump with a grin of “I’ve got a secret” on his fat face.
“Ma’am, about the Maises—”
“I take it you’ve heard the news,” Cally said. She walked over to the courier and yanked him up by his collar until he was dangling off the ground. One hand slipped in to his front pocket and pulled out two data cubes. She tossed them to Tommy, then looked the dangling courier in the eye. “Do you know who I am? Given that you’ve apparently blabbed and gossiped your way across half the country?”
“Gurk?”
“I’ll take that for a yes,” she hissed, holding up a hand like a knife. “Right now I’m looking for someone to kill. I’d prefer five people who killed one of our dependent families. Barring that, anyone will do. What I don’t need is couriers going around delivering unsolicited information and making my life harder than it already was. What I’m contemplating, somewhat seriously, is just driving this up into your chest and ripping out your still beating heart. Do I make my point?”
“Gurk?”
“Go to your quarters, do not communicate, do not leave, I’ll deal with you later.” Cally dropped him unceremoniously and watched him scurry out of the cafeteria. “Do you know who I am?” she asked without turning to look at the foursome.
“Yes, ma’am,” one of them answered.
“If your friends are wallowing in ignorance, they are now allowed access to that compartment,” Cally said coldly. “To answer your interrupted question, the four horsemen of the apocalypse are riding. The Darhel have apparently declared open warfare on Clan O’Neal. Which gives us our hunting license.”
“Oo-rah,” one of the DAG murmured.
“You’ll be given target lists as soon as they’re prepared,” Cally said, still looking towards the entrance. “But you’ll have to pass on the really juicy ones.”
“Why?” one of the soldiers challenged.
“Because they are mine,” Cally purred.
Chapter Thirteen
Pinky allowed himself to be introduced to the new lady, Lish. She looked like it was her first time here at Bane Sidhe base — he’d learned this whole place was a headquarters for a whole underground resistance to Darhel oppression. Underground both ways, like a Sub-Urb and like spies. He also figured he’d better get to like it here. Since they had to tell him, they might not let him leave until he was an adult. He hadn’t bothered to ask. If they said anything except that he had to stay, was he gonna believe them? Eyes open, mouth closed. First rule of spying. Besides, the blonde lady had said she was going to kill the people that killed Mom and Joey. And Jenny, he reminded himself.
Cally. That was her name. When she promised, her eyes had looked like some of the other guys in his dad’s unit sometimes did. He believed her.
Lish, the new lady, was nothing like Cally. For one thing, he’d bet she was really as young as she looked. For another, she didn’t seem very smart. The big thing, though, was that if Cally ever looked as uncomfortable as Lish looked right now, Pinky would bet a dollar she’d be faking it.
It seemed like it was just Mrs. Mueller’s day to get stuck with new people. He shrugged it away and ran off to play with Davey and Pat.
“All set,” Amy Sands was clearly thrilled with her first professional assignment, as well she might be. There was no more prestigious operational team than the one that held both senior O’Neals, three if you counted Tommy Sunday, and not just because they were damned good. It was the other way around. The other Bane Sidhe respected the O’Neals so much because so many of them were so good.
Tommy moved in to check her work, the task being both necessary and in the way of a final technical interview. A row of buckleys sat on the battered desk in front of them, each lined up, after many obfuscatory hops through the network, to make very sincere, urgent police calls in a short period of time.
He had handled the hack into the police computers himself, as there was more risk of getting caught. The run had yielded a list of forensic evidence collected and where it all was presently.
While the Organization didn’t have anyone inside this particular station — had few people inside any stations — they did have extensive records on who could be bribed where. These days, the list was long as hell, and they might have done better to compile a list of who couldn’t be bribed. The right payoffs were already in the right hands, plans in place to deal gently with any honest officers who couldn’t be avoided along the way.