CHAPTER 14
LAURA PACED IN front of Terryn’s desk. She didn’t like not understanding what was going on, when events ran a course she couldn’t predict. One small decision could change everything, one wrong move cause disaster. The creation of a simple glamour to infiltrate the local SWAT team, so mundane at the time, a routine information-gathering task, had set in motion a strange path of overlapping agendas among unlikely players.
She threw herself in the guest chair for the fourth or fifth time. Terryn’s office was Terryn. Photographs lined the walls, landscapes of his ancestral home in Ireland, including a shot of a depressed city. He told her once that the city had grown up over a battlefield that was once a place of beauty and sadness. He wanted to remind himself that the future doesn’t always improve on the past. She didn’t like the idea.
Terryn’s body signature preceded him into the room, and she jumped to her feet. “Dammit, Terryn, I’ve been calling you for hours. Who the hell is that guy in the photo I sent you?” she asked.
He dropped a messenger bag on one of the side chairs and a stack of files on his desk. “Simon Alfrey. I knew him long ago,” he said.
She stood in front of his desk with her arms crossed. “He’s the Inverni from the drug raid. What the hell does this mean, Terryn?”
He narrowed his eyes in thought. “I don’t know. He’s been in Maeve’s service since Convergence. The Alfreys submitted to the Seelie Court before any of the other Inverni clans. Simon likes to style himself as Maeve’s loyal servant, despite any political differences he has with her.”
“By running drugs and trying to kill me?”
Terryn’s brow twitched in thought. “I agree it doesn’t make sense. Maybe this is part of a Guild mission that InterSec doesn’t know about.”
Laura jabbed her finger against the desktop. “He tried to kill me, Terryn, and nearly provoked an essence fight with Bloom in front of the Russell Senate Building. That’s one helluva mission directive.”
Terryn continued unperturbed. “I’m speculating, Laura. I know Maeve manipulates him, and he her. It wouldn’t surprise me if the High Queen is using him to stir up trouble somewhere. She’s done it before. Simon likes to be involved in things that may backfire on Maeve,” he said.
Laura realized she was leaning over Terryn as if he were somehow at fault. She stepped back and sat. “Isn’t that the question? What is he involved in? Who’s really involved here? What are they doing that they are willing to kill FBI agents and police officers? It can’t be drugs. Not at this level,” Laura said.
He shook his head. “You’re right. It’s not drugs. I’ve penetrated the spell on the USB drive you recovered. The data was degraded, but the apartment complex was a makeshift communications center. You stumbled on some kind of shadow network.”
Laura sank into the guest chair. “Okay, this sounds ominous.”
He gestured at the files on his desk. “There’s data relating to manufacturing operations and financial resources. An odd collection of people are either involved or at least targeted for research. There’s information about Blume’s operations, several human businessmen and politicians in the U.S., an unusual assortment of Celtic fey. I don’t know what to make of it yet. I also found several itineraries-including this week’s schedule for the president and Hornbeck,” he said.
She leaned forward. “Both Hornbeck and the president are going to be at the Archives this week. Should we consider canceling the ceremony?”
Terryn divided the files into different stacks. “Rhys and the president don’t like impulsive reactions to these things. I don’t want to look foolish if it’s something else. There are several high-profile itineraries in here. Based on what I’m seeing, it could be anything from money laundering to blackmail. There’s also a manifesto of sorts on the drive.”
“Manifesto? Like crazy manifesto?” she asked.
He smiled at her. “Is there any other kind?”
Laura looked at the files. “I’d like to see it.”
Terryn pulled a thick, bound report out of the top folder and tossed it to the edge of his desk. “I made you a copy. There’s a profile of Alfrey in there, too.”
Laura started flipping through it. “We have two days to figure out if the Archives ceremony is related. I’m betting it is. You’re naming too many people in that file who are going to be at the ceremony. I don’t like coincidences.”
“I’m putting some of it in channels so we can see what the other agencies think,” he said.
She gathered her things and stood at the door. “Blume just got himself invited to the ceremony this afternoon, Terryn. I’m going to see if I can get rid of him. Keep me updated.”
With normal business hours almost over, Laura didn’t want to return to the public-relations department and get sucked into a last-minute project or crisis. She rode the elevator to the garage instead and jumped in her Mercedes. At first she drove with no direction, even no thought, just listening to music and going through the motions of driving. Eventually, rush hour reared its head, and the pleasure and distraction of driving vanished.
She had no desire to return to one of her persona apartments-even her so-called real one in Alexandria. All of them had a work connotation that would intrude on her in distracting ways. Jumping among three personas was tiring, and she didn’t want to feel like she was Mariel or Janice or even Laura, the public-relations staffer.
She parked on the opposite end of town near the Congressional Cemetery. No one she knew would stumble across her in that out of the way corner of the city. The cemetery was not on the major tour routes and had few visitors late in the day. She roamed the graves until she reached the far end away from the road, a shallow depression with tumbled grave markers. Earthmoving machinery was in evidence, and she idly wondered if the landscaping was being repaired or redesigned. She found a low retaining wall to sit on and pulled out the Alfrey profile.
Simon Alfrey was an opportunist, that much was clear. Terryn had collated a laundry list of shady financial dealings, real estate transactions, and political maneuverings that stretched back almost a century. Connections to the Seelie Court were evident, but no firm link existed between him and high-level court officials. As she went deeper into the report, she saw why. The Seelie Court might enjoy using him, but they didn’t trust him.
The Alfrey clan had a history of politically opposing Terryn’s clan for the rule of the Inverni fairies. The macCullens had even ruled the Seelie Court before their defeat by the Danann fairies. As former enemies, Terryn’s family walked a delicate balance between keeping their kindred united while at the same time not overtly threatening the rule of the Seelie Court. The Dananns had numbers on their side, and when Convergence happened, the major clans united around Maeve to protect them in the strange modern world. Except the Inverni. With the instigation of the Alfrey clan, the Invernis made an attempt to win the throne during the confusing early days of Convergence. Terryn’s father, Aubry macCullen, led the effort against Maeve and lost his life when the revolt failed. The Inverni submitted to the crown, but not before blood had been shed and alliances were broken. The Alfrey clan had seen the inevitable and blamed the insurgence on the macCullens.
She went back to her car and drove a few blocks to a coffee shop. As twilight fell, she sat at a corner table reading the manifesto. It was definitely crazy. Well-written crazy, but crazy. She’d seen it all before, the rants about failed government and suffering peoples, the need to replace it all with something shiny and new. Except the cynical secret of all manifestos was that they sought a result no different than the state of affairs they claimed to despise. Only, of course, things would be much better if the crazies were in charge.