“It’s the Ritalin,” Scout said. “I’m hyperactive.”
“It ain’t working,” Roland groused.
Doc looked up from his tackle box full of goodies. “How about a little Valium?”
Scout’s eyes grew wide. “You have some?”
“No, he does not,” Moms said.
Behind her back, Doc nodded.
Scout smiled at Moms. “I must be off.”
“Where are you going?”
“You just asked if I had to be home, duh.” Scout stopped at the grand piano blocking the doors. “Uh, pleeeze.”
“You’re going home?” Moms tried to confirm as Nada hopped off the stool and moved the piano.
“Yaaah. Sort of. I do connect with the world,” Scout said. She checked her watch and made a face. “You guys really suck. Not enough time to ride my horse. I’ve got to get the dinner out of the fridge and into the oven so when my overlords finally arrive home, they can dine.”
“You have a horse?” Eagle asked.
“Duh. I live in Senators Ridge inside Senators Club. I do take advantage of some of the things offered me.”
Moms opened the door. “Be careful. There are Fireflies out there.”
“They already went after me twice,” Scout said. “What are the odds?”
“Shh!” Nada warned.
“You guys take care of yourselves.” And then Scout was gone.
CHAPTER 18
In the basement of the physics building, Ivar, no longer held by the golden glow, read the list of equipment the man had just handed him. The man had typed something into the keyboard and the golden glow had subsided to a pulsing ball about two feet in diameter just above the computer.
Ivar looked up at the man, about to protest that all this was going to be difficult to get, then saw the eyes, pulsing with the same gold as the ball, and decided not to. Then he realized this was his chance to escape, to get away from whatever the hell was going on in here.
The man still held the gun in one hand, but it wasn’t pointed at Ivar, as if he could sense that Ivar was not a threat.
“What’s your name?” the man asked.
“Ivar.”
The man smiled, and that made some of the scabs covering the scars on his face crack, as if he hadn’t smiled since the wounds had been inflicted. “I’m Burns. That’s what they called me. But I’m more than Burns now. Do you understand?”
“No.”
“Good,” Burns said. “You don’t have to. You’re thinking of running away.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a gold chain with a large black stone on it. He snapped the gold necklace around Ivar’s neck. “Think of this like a dog collar, except the stone also transmits everything you say or hear. I will be listening to you. Every second. Tell no one about what happened or what’s going on in here or about me. The gold is lined with a very high grade of explosive. You try to tell someone about what’s happening in here, I’ll blow your head off. You try to take the collar off, it explodes. And your head goes pop. So don’t make your head go pop, clear? It’s really messy. You’ll be back here in two hours or I’ll blow your head from your shoulders. Got it?”
Ivar could only nod.
Burns put a comforting hand on Ivar’s shoulder. “Trust me. I work for the government.”
CHAPTER 19
As darkness loomed in the east, Moms, with some trepidation, sent the team out to patrol Senators Club to track down the remaining Fireflies. Nada had laid out the entire facility in a grid pattern and assigned sectors to each element.
She sent Eagle out in the modified golf cart to patrol the golf course, which seemed logical, except instead of clubs in the bags strapped to the rear, he had a variety of weapons, and the cart was actually the shell of a cart layered over the ATV frame and engine.
Mac got to ride on a Segway dressed in a security uniform, and Moms warned him not to take it apart to see how it worked until the mission was over.
Kirk didn’t get to go. His bandaged hand might raise questions, so he got to pull over-watch. He sat amidst the computer monitors and monitored, the grid pattern taped to the bottom of one of them so he knew where each element was going and could track them.
Nada took one of the SUVs to drive about the place and carry some bigger weapons and special gear in case one of the recon personnel made contact. Doc wasn’t exactly the recon sort, plus he told Moms he had work to do.
Moms went with Roland and walked out the front door, because Moms believed the best recon was boots on the ground, even if in this case it was her tennis shoes and Roland’s boots. As the golf cart, Segway, and SUV scattered, they had barely made it to the sidewalk before Scout appeared.
“Well, hey there, Moms and Hulk.”
“That’s not my name,” Roland said.
“Shouldn’t you be doing homework or something?” Moms asked.
“Summer,” Scout once again reminded her. “The overlords have had their repast and are now safely ensconced in their room after their daily quota of wine.”
“You shouldn’t talk about your parents that way,” Roland said.
“Who said they were my parents?” Scout asked. “I never called them my parents. My parents died when I was two in a plane crash and I’ve been passed through six foster homes since then.”
Roland flushed. “I’m sorry.”
Scout laughed. “Got you.”
Roland took a step forward but Moms put an arm across his chest. Not that her arm could physically stop Roland, but her pinky could stop him in gesture. He halted but glared at Scout.
“Do you always do that to people?” Moms asked. “Pull their leg?”
Scout shrugged. “Never.”
Moms shook her head and was about to say something when a big BMW slowed and a window slid down with a rush of cold air floating out.
“Hey, Doctor Carruthers,” Scout said.
“Hey, Greer.” He looked past her at Moms and his eyes settled on Roland. “You all right?”
“Sure.” Scout reached out and took Roland’s meaty paw in her tiny hand. “This is my uncle George from Wichita.”
Carruthers’s eyes immediately glazed over at the mention of a place he’d never been and had no desire to see.
“Uh, hello, sir,” Roland managed to say, resisting the urge to tighten down on Scout’s hand.
“And?” Carruthers asked, shifting his gaze back to Moms and running his eyes up and down her body in its civilian clothes, which caused Roland to take a half step forward while Scout hung on with all her might, a pretty useless attempt, but it was the attempt that brought sanity back to Roland.
“This is my aunt Betty.”
“Hello, Aunt Betty,” Carruthers said. “So you and George are married?”
“No!” both Moms and Roland said at the same time.
“You see,” Scout said, sliding into the exchange smoothly, “Betty is George’s sister. They run a big farm outside of Wichita.”
“A farm.” The way Carruthers said it, you’d think they were running a prison.
“Nice to meet you,” Moms said. “We just love this place. It’s so big and wonderful and so, so,” she searched for more adjectives, “green.”
“You really are from Wichita,” Carruthers said. “Take care.” And with that he powered up the window and drove away, keeping to fifteen miles an hour to take the speed bumps.
“Greer?” Moms asked.
“Everyone here a doctor?” Roland asked.
“Enough are,” Scout said, ignoring Moms’s question, “that I just call everyone doctor. It’s better to err on the side of caution.”
“Like the Acmes,” Roland observed, for the first time agreeing with Scout.
“Isn’t your world full of titles and rank?” Scout asked as Moms started walking down the sidewalk, Roland on one side, Scout on the other.
“The big part is,” Roland said. “The army and the other agencies, but not us.”