Power (23 page)

Reed and Scott breezed in a few minutes later, followed by Ariadne. She seemed like the odd man out, a little distant as the two of them took their seats. Foreman was the last to arrive; he had Harper and a new guy in his wake. The new guy did not look happy.

He was a touch under six feet, had jet-black hair with a hint of some sort of gel in it to hold the parts in place in a wave over his forehead. He was olive-skinned and serious, but his lips made him look like he’d held onto a taste of something very sour.

Foreman didn’t waste moments. He went straight to the head of the table. With a frown, he asked, “Where’s Zollers?”

“Sleeping,” I answered for him. It was a reasonable guess. “With Sovereign in the building, I’ve got him on telepathic watch to keep any mental break-ins from happening.”

Foreman gave me a grunt of acknowledgment. “And with me and Janus lurking, he won’t be needed in the short term.”

“Hence the sleep,” I said.

“All right, well,” Foreman said, and clapped his hands together, “you’ve already met Ms. Harper. This is Mr. Rocha, from the National Security Agency.”

“NSA?” Scott asked as a slight buzz of energy ran through the room. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why is the NSA here?”

“Because you need help intercepting and decoding your enemy’s transmissions,” Rocha said. His voice was thin and light, and he kept whatever displeasure he was feeling out of his voice. “Perhaps you haven’t heard, but we have a program or two for that.”

“PRISM?” Reed said with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t even need to say it again, do I?”

“We’re all ignoring you by now,” Scott said. “This could be useful.”

“Oh, yeah, invading privacy of massive numbers of people is super-useful,” Reed said acidly. “To anyone who’s actually got control over the data. Those of us whose privacy is being compromised—”

“No one gives a crap about your browser history,” Scott said, waving him off. He paused then glanced slightly nervously at Kat. “Although … man, I hope they’re not reading our old text messages. And the photos…” He grimaced and Kat gave him a quizzical look.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “We’ve had access to PRISM intercepts for a while. What’s new?”

Rocha smiled, looking a little pained. “Now you’ve got me combing through it for you, and I know a lot more about how the system works than your resident tech geek.”

I shrugged. “Can’t hurt. If nothing else, J.J. will be thrilled to have you on his staff.”

Rocha’s smile died. “Excuse me?”

Foreman buried his face in a palm while Scott and Reed exchanged a giggle, like the twelve-year-olds they were. “Not what I meant,” I corrected. Man, I had to watch out for that one in the future.

Rocha gave me a look that was pure disdain. “If you’ll allow me to set up on one of your computers, I can start working immediately.”

“Sure,” I said. “Scott, set him up, will you? You know, if you’re done chortling.”

“Man, where the hell was all this help six months ago, when we were stumbling in the dark?” Scott muttered as he headed to the door, Rocha following just slightly after him.

“Where it’s always been,” Foreman answered, absolutely glacial. “The problem wasn’t it, the problem was you—your Agency is deeply classified. Or was,” he added, not looking all that happy.

“I’ll take it,” I said as the door shut behind Rocha and Scott. “At least there’s some benefit to us for getting blown out into open. Before when we would ask other agencies for information, they’d end up looking around wondering who the hell just said something.”

“Welcome to the federal government,” Foreman replied. He was so impassive I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to take that.

“So can Mr. Rocha tap us in to Century’s communications?” Ariadne asked. “I mean … is it possible that they’ve just been talking out in the open like this, where anyone could read it?”

“Not just anyone could read it, as I understand,” Foreman said. “Something about browser encryptions, and Tor, things that I couldn’t explain to you if I had to. However, the NSA does seem to have some experience tracking communications of all varieties, and with your boy J.J.’s help—and the laptop recovered from Weissman—Mr. Rocha seems to think we have an excellent chance to uncover some of Century’s back trails.”

“Find their trails, maybe find the tip-off for the meeting,” I said, tapping the table.

“That’s the hope,” Foreman said. “But I don’t know enough about it to be very optimistic. Still, it’s another door.”

“Every door we can open at this point is a good one,” Janus said wearily. He was leaning on the arm of his chair.

“What about the one with Sovereign behind it?” Reed asked. “Because I’m still not keen on opening that one unless we’re going to throw in a few grenades and wait before entering.”

“Very concerned about your right to privacy, not so concerned about perforating a man without a trial,” Foreman mused aloud. “That’s an interesting set of contradicting beliefs you’re running around with there, Mr. Treston.” Reed flushed but said nothing.

“Acrimony aside,” I said and shifted my attention to Harper, “if they find this meeting site, you can provide surveillance, right?”

Harper nodded once, crisply. “I’ll have to refuel soon, but that shouldn’t take too long.”

“Where does that happen?” I asked.

“If need be, we can do it here at the 133rd Air Wing, next to the airport,” Harper said. “Preferably I’d send it to Camp Ripley, where the drone wouldn’t look quite so out of place coming in for a landing.”

“Okay, well, just do it now,” I said. “We don’t know when we’re going to get a break and I’ll want something ready urgently.”

“With the pull the Senator has, I can get you a few more drones for coverage if need be,” Harper said, betraying nothing in the way she said it. “Have them standing off in orbiting patterns and just hand them off to other operators when they need to refuel.”

“Whatever it takes and whatever you can give,” I agreed. “But once we find these guys, then we have to decide what to do.”

“Hit ’em with a missile from the drone,” Reed offered, a little viciously. “That’s what drones are for, right?” I didn’t think he was serious. Exactly.

“We can’t do that in U.S. airspace,” Harper said with a simple shake of the head.

“Of course not,” Reed muttered. “We only—”

“Stuff it, Reed,” I shot at him. “So we’re back to a ground-based conflict on this one.” I looked up at Foreman. “Any other support? Army? Marines?”

He shook his head. “Posse comitatus.”

“National Guard?” I asked.

“Not yet,” he said. “Get me a clear and present danger and the president might—maybe—move on this sooner.”

“Do you have his ear on this?” I asked.

“No,” Foreman said with a faint smile. “I’m a junior Senator from the opposing party. He’s more likely to listen to a man on the street than me. I’m working through channels with him, but they’re not particularly clear ones, if you catch my meaning.”

“So we’re on our own but at least we have some ancillary support at this point,” I said. “I’ll take it.” It was a hell of a lot better than having nothing. Foreman did not respond other than with a slightly amused raise of an eyebrow.

“So we wait,” Janus said. “We wait and hope that this … technical wonder you have constructed bears some form of fruit?”

“Unless you want to make an effort at questioning Sovereign,” I said, staring at him.

His head was bald, his beard gone, and his lined face looked peculiar even in the spots where the flesh had healed from his unfortunate scalding. “I will talk to him if you wish it, but I don’t think it will help. We have steered rather clear of each other for a very long time, and with good reason.”

“Yeah,” I said, harkening back to the story he’d told us, “but do you think talking to him would do any positive good?”

“If you are looking to aggravate him, perhaps,” Janus said with a shrug. “Otherwise, I doubt it.”

“We’ll skip that for now,” I said.

“Never underestimate the value of annoying people,” Reed said, and I wondered if he knew how much he was living out his own advice at the moment.

“Well, if there’s nothing else to discuss …” I said.

“Hold it,” Li said from his end of the table. “We still have no actionable plan on what we’re going to do when we find this meeting. You’re talking about facing down one hundred—”

“Eighty,” I said. “Or maybe seventy; I’ve lost count.” I paused, thinking about it for a second.

“You’ve killed so many people you’ve lost track of the numbers,” Li said, surprisingly calm.

I started to open my mouth to protest out of reflex, and stopped. “Yes,” I said, in slightly numb surprise. “I have.”

“She’s doing her job,” Foreman said quickly, not hazarding a look in my direction. “Every member of Century that’s removed from their organization makes it more likely that we’re going to be able to take them out.” He laid his knuckles on the table as he leaned over. “I’ve heard the basics about this Ares-type they’re holding onto, and I have to say—it scares the hell out of me. Watching them come for our people one by one was frightening; knowing they possess the capability to wipe out every last one of our defenders pushes my fear of them up to the next level. They need to be taken out, by any means necessary.”

“I am fine with that,” Li said, calmly assertive. “But in terms of a plan, even walking in with auto shotguns doesn’t seem like it’s going to cover all the bases. If we can’t just fire a missile and take them out of existence, then that means a fight—”

“No,” I said. I felt a slow grin crack my face. “No, it doesn’t. We’ve been looking at this all wrong. If we’re at war, and we’re up against an army … we need an advantage, right?”

“Right,” Foreman said, giving me a cautious look. “But as previously pointed out, we have no advantage to give you. No tanks, no soldiers, no planes—”

“We don’t need any of those things,” I said, shaking my head. “We just need one thing, and one thing alone—other than the location of their meeting, obviously.”

The smile on my face must have been very disquieting, because some cracks of nervousness started to show up in Foreman’s facade. “And what would that be?”

I blinked at him demurely. “The same thing any army uses when they want to take out a number of enemies fast and efficiently.” I leaned forward. “A bomb.”

Chapter 40

I sat in my office after the meeting, the blinds cracked open and the sunlight pouring in. It was blissfully silent, which was a hell of a contrast to how it had been in the meeting after I’d dropped my own particular bomb.

The reaction was predictable, the arguments equally so, and there was a lot of anger and rage. Also predictable. I didn’t really care, though, because when you start arguing about killing people, what’s the difference whether it’s fast or slow? My preference was for fast, obviously, given how much damage these particular people could do if given time to react.

Foreman had been necessarily skeptical, but I thought I’d finally gotten through to him at the end. Maybe. He was a tough guy to read, and I would struggle to guess whether that was because of his meta abilities or his career in politics. Either way, it left me nothing more than the hope that he’d pass my request up the line and get us a bomb we could work with. I’d even talked with him for a minute privately after the meeting to make sure he got the right message. I still couldn’t read him, though.

So I sat in my office and waited for the next inevitable knock. Whether it would be Scott and Rocha, hopefully with some news to share, or Ariadne with a budget projection that she knew I’d just sign off on, or someone else wanting to have any number of conversations I didn’t necessarily see the value in, it would come as surely as Century’s looming meeting.

Though I probably wouldn’t have to wait as long.

When the knock came a few minutes later, I didn’t even bother to act surprised. “Come in,” I said, still leaning back in my chair with my boots up on the desk. Director of a federal agency, and I wear boots every day. Well, when you have to kick as much ass as I do, it’s a necessity.

“Hey,” Reed said as he eased in.

“Hey, yourself,” I replied with all my wit. Well, half my wit. Whatever, I don’t deal in percentages. I gave what I had. “What’s up?”

“Came to talk to you, of course.”

“About my mother?” I asked. “Because I’m still not ready to have that conversation just yet.”

“No,” he said. “I don’t know that I have anything to add in relation to Sierra. Getting to know her these last few months has been a … different …” He looked like he’d taken a bite of something he didn’t care for, “… experience.” He eased over to my desk and sat down on the edge. “No, I’m here because there’s something you need to hear.”

I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Oh, really?”

“Yes,” he said and paused, as if he were drawing a deep breath before bringing the pain. “You’re not a mad dog in danger of slipping the chain.”

I frowned at him. “What the …? Is there a ‘bitch’ joke coming at my expense? Because I’d look dimly on that.”

“No,” he said. “I wanted to tell you that you’re like … a sheepdog.”

Now both my eyes were wide and fixed on him. “I have no idea where you’re going with this.”

“You’re aloof and jaded and have a mile-high fence around you, Sienna,” he said. “But you can’t hide the fact that you care about people and society. You always talk about the things you’ve done—killing M-Squad or the Primus of Omega—like it’s the start of your psychopath career. But you were willing to die going out against Wolfe back when this whole thing started in order to protect people you’d never even met.” He gave me his serious look. “It’s why you’re doing what you’re doing now. This whole ‘bomb’ idea … I don’t want you to feel guilty about it, like it’s some reversion to the darker instincts in your soul. You’re not a ‘kill for a thrill’ psycho. You’re a woman with a lot of power who’s made mistakes. You’re a guardian. You’re a protector. You’re a—”

“Dark knight?” I deadpanned.

“I was going to say sheepdog.”

I sighed. “And we’re back to bitches again.”

“Fine,” Reed said. “You’re a shield. You stand between the people and harm. It’s what you’ve always done, when you weren’t caught up in personal anguish and other …” he harrumphed, “… issues. This bomb idea? It’s … it’s a good one.” He shrugged. “It wouldn’t be my first choice because that’s not how I’d prefer to fight, but when you’re this outnumbered …” He sighed. “You have to do what you have to do.”