“Was that supposed to be a test?” Jake Sullivan asked. “I’m assuming we passed.”
“It wouldn’t do to ally with a group of incompetents. The dog was a nice touch,” Hoover responded, watching the magic mirror as if it might turn into a snake and bite him. “Your people are as clever as you made them out to be.”
Sullivan was already opening the package. “Is this intelligence current?”
“It is,” Hoover assured him. “We at the Bureau like to stay informed. However, I was recently ordered to have no involvement whatsoever with the OCI. So I’m afraid I have no need of these files. I’ve been hearing some very troubling things about our mutual acquaintances. Ugly things. Anything reliable you find will enable me to start an official inquiry. Until then, any action I take will be looked upon as mere political vindictiveness. He’s seen to that. Bradford Carr is a crafty one.”
“Small world,” Sullivan muttered as he read one of the linotyped sheets. “ Doctor Bradford. Ain’t that something? I’ve been in the library named after him. Very nice collection, though now I’m betting he was keeping the good stuff for himself.”
“Do what is necessary, but I will not abide a complete disregard for the letter of the law.”
“Uh huh…” Sullivan was studying one of the pages. “I bet you won’t. I’ll be in touch.”
“There is something else, Mr. Sullivan. The OCI has released a bulletin that they are expecting another attack shortly. Time is of the essence. We have never spoken.”
“Keep the mirror. It makes a nice souvenir.”
Bell Farm, Virginia
The gang’s all here!
Well, except for the ones that were in prison, the ones that had died, and the others that were far away, but it was most of the Grimnoir Faye knew, all in one place, and all, sort of, working together. The old farmhouse was packed. Faye Vierra, Jake Sullivan, Lance Talon, Dan and Jane Garrett, Whisper Giraudoux, Ian Wright, and the new lady, Pemberly Hammer, were all in the living room.
Faye thought Pemberly seemed nice, if a little frazzled. She was pretty too, in a straightforward sort of way, though she was no Whisper, who was constantly dolling herself up and putting cosmetics on her face and playing with her hair-Faye figured it was because she was French-and she was certainly not in the same league as Jane, who Faye still thought should be a movie star or something. Jane just woke up beautiful. All of the other women made Faye feel sort of plain in comparison. It was okay, she was used to it. Besides, Francis seemed to think she was pretty, but that wasn’t the only reason she was going to go rescue him.
Toru was the only one on the farm missing from the meeting, but Lance was using a rat to watch the crazy Iron Guard. Lance said that he was just sitting there on the barn floor, meditating or whatever it was Iron Guards do.
Mr. Sullivan had only been a Grimnoir as long as she had, so he was supposedly still one of the junior members, but everybody knew that when it came to combat nobody knew as much as he did. There wasn’t any pride about it, he just kind of came in and took over when the discussion turned to fighting. She was glad that Lance was smart enough not to let his pride get in the way. Mr. Sullivan had used a grease pencil to draw a map on the wall. He’d been going over the plan for the last hour. As had been pointed out repeatedly, it wasn’t much of a plan, but the clock was ticking. It was Tuesday afternoon and sometime on Thursday morning, Heinrich was scheduled to die. They weren’t about to let that happen.
Luckily, they weren’t too far so they didn’t have to worry about getting there in time, just about what to do when they got there. Some of the others knew right away where the secret OCI headquarters was just from the name. Mason Island. Faye had never heard of the place.
“It’s a swampy chunk of dirt in the Potomac, just between D.C. and Arlington County.” Sullivan kept on drawing as he spoke. “Half a mile long, quarter mile wide. One bridge crosses the southern end of the island”-he made a broad slash-“connecting it to land on both sides. Government bought the place right after the Great War. They started building it up to put a Peace Ray on it, but that was before scientists figured out that the rays turned the air around it to poison. Couldn’t have that zipping a couple hundred yards over the city.”
“The elevation is crap. Stupid place to put an energy weapon,” Lance said.
“I think the idea was that it would make an impressive silhouette, looming over the Capitol. Symbolic and all that. Anyways, they finally gave up and built this region’s Peace Ray over on Catoctin Mountain, but before that decision, they’d finished the bridge and a couple of buildings. Officially, there’s nothing there, even though you can see the lights from the other shore. According to Hoover”-Sullivan drew a square above the bridge-“this is where the OCI has set up shop.”
“Good place for a secret police force. No flash, nice and secluded, out of sight, out of mind,” Dan said, “but driving distance to where the action is.”
“We can bet it’s fortified and heavily guarded. With twenty good men I could hold a place like that from now ‘till doomsday. This isn’t going to be easy.”
“Maybe there’s another option,” Ian insisted. “Why don’t we go after this Carr and take him out of the picture instead?”
Sullivan sounded weary. “Thought of that. First, they’ll still have our people. Second, Hoover said Carr hasn’t left OCI headquarters since the assassination attempt. He’s been working through intermediaries and telephone calls.”
“He’s scared of us,” Lance suggested. “Damn well ought to be. That’s what happens when you poke the wrong hornet’s nest.”
“You’ll still need whatever evidence they’ve got inside there anyway.” Pemberly hadn’t spoken in a while. She knew she wasn’t very popular.
“I don’t recall asking you,” Lance said, sounding distracted, but that was how he normally was when part of his brain was occupied somewhere else. “Yesterday you were working for the enemy.”
Faye turned to him. “I think she’s okay.”
“You thought the same thing about Isaiah Rawls,” Lance responded gently. “Right before that treacherous son of a bitch near killed us all.”
Faye blushed. Lance had her there. She’d been the one that had spilled General Pershing’s secrets. At the mention of his father-in-law’s name, Ian visibly bristled, but didn’t speak up. Lance had no way of knowing the relation, and since Ian was in a room full of people who’d suffered because of Rawls, keeping his big stupid mouth shut was smart. She could tell it was difficult for him. Ian sure did like to argue and always be right. Faye didn’t hate Ian as much now that she understood why he was such a bitter know-it-all jerk, and he’d been brave in Ada, though she was still mad about being pushed out the window.
“Lance, is it?” Pemberly asked. “I’m risking my life by being here. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t even know your friend was alive. So you can stuff it.”
“Well, excuse me, missy.”
Faye thought that Lance and Pemberly sounded kind of alike. Not their voices, because Lance sounded like all deep and grumpy and Pemberly sounded kind of light and pretty like she might sing real nice. It was more about how they talked, with an accent like they should be riding horses and branding steers and other cowboy type things. Some folks said Faye had an accent too, a country one, but she couldn’t hear it, so she figured they didn’t know what they were talking about.
Mr. Sullivan seemed to be ignoring them. He was too focused on that map to pay attention to little things like squabbles. He got that way sometimes. While Faye seemed to be at her best when her brain was bouncing around between topics a million miles an hour, Sullivan focused on one thing until it got done. “Biggest problem is going to be those magic nullifiers. Place is probably crawling with them and we don’t have a clue how to stop them. Stealth is out. Faye could pop in and get stuck and we’re missing our Fade. Without magic, we’re just guns, and they’re bound to have more of those too.”