Cloud Rebel: R-D 3 (19 page)

I didn't have time to worry about them-I had more work to do and was worried enough about Graye Sanders' situation with a fake former president. At least Graye and Amelia Sanders were childless-I'd be more worried if kids were involved.

"You're being reassigned to the President," Kyle Lakin announced when I arrived in his office. He announced it so the other employees would know what was going on.

I heard more than one person grumble and one say outright that it was because I was young and pretty. I forced myself not to give him indigestion. The applause at my apparent elevation was sparse and begrudged.

I had a feeling the Chief of Staff was going to hear complaints from his remaining staff all day long.

When I gathered my things and hauled them in a small box to the Presidential staff office, I found the Falchani twins guarding the door to the Oval Office.

Good morning
, Drew grinned. I saw through the disguises he and his brother wore; to me, they wore leathers and had their long hair braided tightly down their backs. Everyone else saw two men dressed in dark suits who certainly didn't look like twins.

Good morning to you, too
, I said. I realized that the real Laura Quimby would likely have to retrieve the things I placed in drawers and atop the desk I'd been assigned, but that would happen later, when this mess was resolved.

At least I hoped she would. Even with Norian Keef and Lendill Schaff now focused on tracking errant Lyristolyi I felt uncomfortable, bordering on fear. Something was in the works; I just couldn't determine what it was.

* * *

Notes-Colonel Hunter

"When Norian meets me again in the future, he won't recognize me," Mack Walters said. He'd already told me he was born a werewolf and was originally from Earth. I was beginning to feel a small amount of jealousy-that some were chosen for a higher purpose. He and I stood in a corner of the emptied facility in Nevada while Norian Keef and Lendill Schaff used advanced equipment to search for clues.

"They left fingerprints and DNA behind," Lendill said as he shut off the small tablet he carried and walked toward us. "Definitely Lyristolyi, and the fingerprint belongs to one that the Prime Potentate of Lyristolys claims is dead."

"No doubt he didn't bother to clean up after himself, thinking that Earth wouldn't have a clue about him," I said.

"And he's mostly right," Lendill agreed. "You're fortunate that you have two Larentii willing to help."

"More than you know," I ducked my head. "My question is this-how did they get away so cleanly with everything inside this facility? A lot of equipment and furniture was left behind."

"Moved it out initially by truck, I think," Mack said. "I smelled diesel outside. I don't know how far they drove it, though, since the presence of at least one Sirenali is blocking the information."

"What do you smell in here?" Lendill asked.

"At least six scents that are fresher than any others," Mack shrugged. "One of them definitely Sirenali, in humanoid phase."

"What?" I turned to him swiftly. "Cori and Val say the ones from here likely don't know how to turn humanoid. We've only seen their scaly counterparts."

"You have the one you captured in Okya-hama," Norian snorted. "He was humanoid at the time."

"He wasn't even here three months ago, from what Val says," I replied. "Gerrett would have said something, I think, if he'd been involved in this mess. And it's
Oklahoma
." I didn't add
you nitwit
at the end of my statement, although I wanted to.

"I'd like to speak with him," Norian began.

"He's mute and only communicates through mindspeech," I said. "Cori and Val talk to him all the time, and he's become friends with Bekzi," I stated.

"Bekzi?" Norian's interest was piqued.

"Cori says he's a reptanoid."

"What's that?"

"Ask Cori-or Bekzi. He's heard of you before," I said. "He wasn't complimentary." Lendill turned away to hide a smile.

"Where is he now?"

"In Canada, helping to keep things on an even keel," I said.

"What does a boat hull have to do with," Norian began. "Never mind. I'll save that discussion for later."

* * *

Corinne

"We have to make plans to attend Amelia's funeral," President Granville stated as two other staffers and I stood before his desk. The Chief of Staff sat in a chair beside me, nodding at the President's words.

Things had happened so quickly after her death that I hadn't had time to mourn for her or consider the inevitable-the elaborate service expected for a President of the United States.

I'm sure that the real Phillips and the real Askins would have been doing a jig about her demise, but I took satisfaction in the fact that they'd died before she did. I was now worried about their clones, wherever and however many of those there were.

I'd like to see her body first, before it's placed on display in the capitol rotunda
, I sent to the President.

A slight shake of his head negated my request.

All of us were invited to sit while the plans for a state funeral were made.

* * *

Personal Record

Lendill Schaff

"Why do they call this the ugly building in Arlington?" Norian asked after our introduction to Justin Griffin. He was tall-taller than Norian, with dusty-blond hair, blue eyes and a ready smile.

"I didn't name it," Justin flashed a grin. "Want coffee?"

Mack, the werewolf who'd transported us to and from the facility in Nevada, snickered as he helped himself to a cup of the dark brew.

"Do you have tea?" I asked.

"We do." Justin turned to retrieve a cup from the cabinet behind him. In seconds, a cup of fragrant tea was brewing in front of me while Norian accepted a cup of coffee.

"We've been reassigned as your transportation crew," Justin said. "Gavin thinks the enemy may be planning an attack from multiple fronts."

"Gavin?"

"You haven't met him," Mack said, his dark eyes glinting with humor. "Old. Vampire. Grumpy. Need I say more?"

"No, thank you," I pulled the small tea bag from my cup and sipped. "Good," I nodded. I only knew about vampires because my father had taught me about them. Werewolves, too. I felt comfortable with the young werewolf who stood nearby. A vampire could be another story.

"My dad's a vampire," Justin grinned, causing me to choke on my tea.

Rather than ask how it was possible for a creature that was sterile by nature to have fathered anyone, I apologized for coughing and went back to my tea.

"Did the vampire happen to say where these multiple fronts could originate?" Norian tasted the coffee and stopped for a moment to determine whether he liked it or not. "This is good," he acknowledged.

"I put cream and sugar in it," Justin said. "It's how I started drinking it years ago. Now I just avoid wasting time and take it black."

"Gavin doesn't know exactly where the attacks will originate, he just expects them to come from multiple directions," Mack shrugged. "It's what he would do, if he were in charge. Divide the enemy-that's what he said."

"The first attack could be the weakest," Justin nodded as he lifted his coffee cup. "It will draw our attention while they plan to hit us harder elsewhere, in more strategic and vulnerable spots."

"What does a vampire know about strategy?" Norian played the skeptic.

"Well, he was in the Roman army back in the day, if you're familiar with this planet's history. Then, he was the Vampire Council's elite assassin for a long time before he became what he is now."

"An assassin?" I lifted an eyebrow at Justin's remark.

"The best they had," Justin grinned again.

"Perhaps he will consider working for the ASD after this," Norian suggested.

Mack and Justin burst out laughing. While I failed to understand exactly what they found so humorous, I couldn't help but smile.

* * *

Captain Brett Walker

Jen and I had gone out with Captain Finch the day before. We examined the Snow Cat used to launch the missiles responsible for the blast site in Quebec.

The vehicle was a burned ruin, now.

The identification numbers had been destroyed before the vehicle was used for its final purpose, although we did find wires and a metal box, which didn't belong. "That remote controlled," Bekzi nodded toward the remains of the box I'd set on the kitchen island. My job was to look through it for any type of identifying markers, which could lead us to its maker or seller.

"Yeah," I shook my head. "I'm looking for something that could tell us where it originated."

"Look for reason these so intent to catch Sergei. Katya. Friends of Sergei and Katya," he responded.

I know I stared at him for several moments while that germinated in my brain. "Good question," I said eventually. "I don't have an answer."

"Think I do," Bekzi murmured. "Need to see Corinne and Valegar."

"What's going on?" Dr. Farrell walked into the kitchen. "No worry," Bekzi said. "We looking at remote control device," he nodded to the pile of junk in front of me. For some reason, he didn't want to talk to Farrell about what he and I had just discussed.

That concerned me, and I was already concerned greatly about Dr. Richard Farrell.

* * *

Corinne

I spent the afternoon listening to people talking about the matched black horses to pull the caisson carriage at the funeral, plus the one to be used as the riderless, caparisoned horse.

It hit me then-so hard I wanted to destroy the Oval Office with the buildup of energy coursing through my body. We shouldn't even be talking about this. It shouldn't have happened. Everything the drug touched had been adversely affected.

Dearest, excuse yourself
, came from Val.
You must release your anger elsewhere
.

I didn't excuse myself. Instead, I left a replica of myself sitting in the Oval Office while I folded space. I needed a place where I could scream my lungs out.

Neaboria was beautiful, wild and uninhabited except by plants. It bore the brunt of my anger as I shouted at people, most of whom were already dead.

For the first time, too, after I'd finished shouting where none took note, I returned to the Oval Office and replaced my mock-up with myself, with nobody the wiser.

* * *

Graye

I have to attend the funeral-there is no way around that. I have to pretend to mourn, too, when I feel nothing. I was forever saddled with the name Graye Sanders, when I would have preferred something else.

He
says it will open doors for me. I didn't ask him which doors he meant. I feel his answer will be political in nature; therefore, I do not wish to know.

I understand he is not former President Phillips-he is only an echo of the one who was. Hal worshipped the original. Always said he was a genius. Regardless, he is dead and a shadow takes his place.

I worry that this one may not possess the genius of the original. I worry that all our deaths could come as a result.

He says not to worry-that all will be well and we will take the country back.

I wanted to tell him we already had much of it while Amelia Sanders occupied the White House. The wealthy moved and spent at our command. Armies and assassins followed our instructions. The people were oblivious. I failed to understand why this pretender thought it necessary to stand in the full light of day and open himself to possible criticism.

After all, if you make a target of yourself, someone will surely aim in your direction.

So much better to be the force behind the target, allowing them to take direct hits while you remain safe.

Yes, some would say that is cowardly.

I call it wisdom.

Hal and my assistant had taught me well.

Just get through the funeral
, he said.
Afterward, you may hide as much as you like
.
I
will deal with everything past that point.

I told him that's exactly what I wanted.

"Your tea, sir," my assistant handed the cup and saucer to me. I accepted and thanked him before I drank.

* * *

Notes, Colonel Hunter

"Matt Michaels is on the phone," James appeared in my doorway. I'd barely seen my office in several days, yet here was another interruption.

"I'll take it," I said, lifting the receiver of my desk phone. Briefly, I wondered why he hadn't bothered to call my cell. This call could be recorded.

I learned quickly that recording it was exactly what he wanted.

"We need to get to Bethesda," he said. "They found something in the autopsy."

"What the hell?" I demanded.

"I'm telling you I just got a call, and they found something. Looks like Madam President may not have died of natural causes."