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.
She finished her coffee and ordered another to go. What made her pause about the manifesto, though, was its breadth. It wasn’t about taking down the U.S. or the Seelie Court or the Teutonic Consortium. It was about taking down all of them, sweeping away all three structures and replacing it with another one. The fatal flaw in the plan that the authors missed was the point of most political history and goals, the hope that everyone would compromise and unite and get along. It wasn’t going to happen overnight because someone thought it should and wrote it down.
Between the manifesto and Alfrey, Laura had a good idea of what the drug raid was about. Money, of course, and politics, as usual. It wasn’t a huge leap to make the connection that Alfrey still opposed the Seelie Court and needed money to do something about it. Under normal circumstances, security agencies would contain the group and write off the ideas. But between Alfrey’s history and his connections to the Seelie Court, Laura thought he needed to be taken more seriously.
She drove by the Vault. Restless, she circled the block. She didn’t want to go home to an empty apartment and read through the files again. After another two passes down the street, she spotted the InterSec agent watching the club and parked not far behind him. She pulled out Mariel’s cell phone and called Terryn.
“Hey. I want to take over the surveillance at the Vault. Can you call off our babysitter?” she said when he answered.
“Go home and get some sleep, Laura,” he said.
“I’m bored.”
“Laura…” he began.
“Can we not do this, Terryn? I can handle this. I just don’t want to go home right now.”
He didn’t answer right away. A moment later, the InterSec agent started up his car and drove off. “Are you okay?” Terryn asked.
“Yeah. Stuff on my mind.”
“I know what you mean,” he said. She waited, expecting him to elaborate. After a long silence, he said. “Call when you want to be relieved.”
“I will. See you tomorrow.” She disconnected and settled more comfortably in her seat. After Aubry died, Terryn had delegated his authority to his siblings, come to the U.S., and joined the Guild. That much she knew. But old clan politics from before she was born was something else. Terryn knew Simon Alfrey better than he’d let on.
The dinner crowd trickled into the club. Obvious couples arrived-pairs and groups of four. High-level business people, financiers in particular, exited limousines. Several acknowledged each other without surprise. She watched with a mental hyperawareness, using the mnemonic tricks druids were adept at, attaching names to human and fey guests she recognized, while she made memory imprints of the faces she didn’t. At her leisure, she would activate full recall and scan through the InterSec databases for more names to give Terryn.
During a lull, she released the mnemonic spell, and her sensing ability reasserted itself. A body signature registered on the edge of her range, a stationary body signature, as if someone waited nearby. The moment she noticed it, it withdrew. On a busy street with people socializing, a stationary body signature was not unusual. She’d noticed it only by chance. Still, she checked her mirrors.
Patrons leaving the Vault began to outnumber those going in. Laura relaxed again to take a break, and immediately sensed a body signature again. Earlier, it had been behind her, but now it was somewhere off to her left, too far for her to make a positive identification. She boosted more essence into her sensing ability. As soon as her ability touched it, it withdrew again. Someone was watching her.
Considering that she had been sitting for a few hours, an alert security guard might have noticed her. With a short spell, she changed the basics of her facial features, flattening them out and shortening her hair, and got out of the car. She didn’t want Janice or Mariel seen near the club tonight. She leaned against the door and pretended to drink from her long-empty coffee cup. No one on the sidewalk paid her any attention.
She searched for Gianni. He operated at the Vault as senior security and might be there. She sipped air again. She knew his personality type. He would consider foot patrol beneath him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have someone else looking. The body signature didn’t reappear. With a last casual glance around, she got back in her car.