The Infected 3: Cast Iron (9 page)

Someone else spoke next, the voice shocking her enough that Marcia actually spun in a half circle at the words.

Charlot Chamber’s had managed to sneak up on her.

“From Scott. They’d been seeing each other and when he broke it off, she struck him in anger, which given his first modality didn’t go ever very well. A bad downward spiral.” The woman made a gesture toward the woman with her right hand.

“Not that I’d care if the bitch died personally, since she was sleeping with my husband, but it would be bad press. Luckily Brian was able to step in and avert the worst of it for us. You remember that, don’t you? The first time he…” She stopped suddenly as Prime walked over and put his arm around her shoulders. It was a loving gesture and only a few longing gazes were being cast at the cameras in front of them.

“The first time Brian kicked my behind. You know, I should be pretty uncomfortable here. Of the five people that have kicked my butt in my entire life, three of them are in the room with me.” He glanced around for a second before he kept speaking.

“Though I would have thought the Director would have given you Katie’s name specifically, given everything. That being part of your job.” He sounded distracted, which was explained about five seconds later when he started walking toward the cameras like a moth toward a flame. The only problem there was that he got in front of Denis to do it.

Knocking down Prime was an option, but it would make less of a scene to move Denis again. He didn’t even yelp when she picked him up from behind, arms wrapped around his middle and moved him about twelve feet away, like a piece of equipment. Charlot walked with them, as if understanding the whole thing as being natural, an almost serene look on her face. Then, she didn’t really like Denis all that much and seeing him being humbled, if only a little, probably tickled her more than a bit.

Denis just kept working, focusing on Tobin without pause.

“Why would it be your job Marsh?” The nickname was actually what Karen called her, but she didn’t correct him. They were teammates and sometimes partners, so having unobjectionable special names for each other would help with unit cohesion. The riot squad called him “Den” after all. The cooking show people did too.

Charlot watched the scene in front of her closely, since her daughter had been pulled in beside Tobin and Scott was talking to a man that wasn’t letting himself be on camera at all, who seemed to be from the Food Network itself. She cast a look at Denis that wasn’t exactly angry and smiled just a little.

“Because she’s the second in command of the IPB? The Deputy Director. It would seem prudent to keep her in the loop on things like that, wouldn’t it? I would have thought you’d know that by now, having been with us for years like you have been. Don’t you ever go to the briefings?” Her voice wasn’t mean or even lording her knowledge over the man, but his reaction to what she said was still pretty strong.

“What?” He half yelled the words and turned to stare at her, which got most of the room to pay attention to them. That wasn’t good, since Tobin still needed help or he’d start to freeze up or maybe even run away.

Marcia waved back at that cluster of people hurriedly, “focus! Focus. I’ll explain when this is done.”

It wasn’t exactly a secret, but she generally didn’t advertise what all she did at the IPB. She especially didn’t want to do it in public, because she liked getting out into the field on occasion, and letting it be known she was the second head honcho would mean people would want to put her on camera and examine everything she did. The longer that fate was put off, the more she’d like it. Of course it would help if people didn’t scream it all over the news. There wasn’t a lot to say to Denis about it though now that he knew, but her words got him to look at Tobin again, which was the real point.

She didn’t speak again until the cameras were done, moving to get their room assignments instead and get everyone checked in for the week. They had the rooms for a full seven days, but the actual conference wasn’t going to start until Friday, giving them a full night to settle in and plan. She hoped to have her little problem dealt with quickly, but knew that with things like they were, what it sounded like to her at the moment, people being kidnapped and held prisoner or killed, it most likely wouldn’t be just a few days of clean-up. This trip was really just about finding out what was up. Hopefully it would turn out to be a mistake and not some kind of revenge plot, but to her mind given the information so far, that really didn’t seem likely.

The man at the counter, who was quite clearly a lot more interested in checking out Karen’s behind from across the room than doing his job, managed well enough to hand over all the needed key cards to her anyway. She had everyone’s since it would be easier that way. Plus she was bossy. It was, as Prime had just pointed out, her job, after all too.

That and waiting it seemed. She was a little bored by the time the cameras decided they had enough and several other food related celebrities worked into the mix as well. She didn’t recognize any of them, because as a rule she didn’t watch food programs. There was no point to it, except to remind herself how much fun everyone else got to have eating. It was fine for a week, if she had to put up with a bunch of elaborate meals the whole time, but a juice box and a pack of crackers was the same to her. Actually she liked that a little better, because the texture wasn’t generally as bland.

No one paid attention to her though, until Lauren and Peggy came over to get their key cards figuring out what was going on without asking. The only surprise there was that they were both sharing a room with Denis. Marcia had known that Peggy and Denis sometimes hooked up, though she didn’t think it was all that serious. Lauren though… She was a giant walking suit of insect like armor. A wonderful person inside, sure, but could she even have sex? Marcia actually knew the answer, from the medical records in the woman’s file. It was no.

So why would they all be sharing a room? What was the point? Maybe just simple convenience? Lauren was on guard duty after all. That wasn’t real, but it did look better if she stayed with the other woman all the time. If that was the case then Level was doing a lot better at her new job than Marcia had thought would happen, to tell the truth. She was a powerhouse and a sweet woman when you got down to it, but hard working had never really seemed like one of her top traits. Mopey, downcast, and pretty normal in most areas that weren’t physical, apparently a good singer, but not all that dedicated to the job.

Of course, who was? Their job was about going and finding Infected people that had problems, and nine times out of ten, killing them. It wasn’t a fun thing to consider, because they were people too. Sick people that weren’t half as lucky as most of the IPB operatives were. If Marcia had been hit with a different first mode, even pure paranoia instead of the advanced state of caution she actually had, which was a pretty fine line when you came down to it, she’d have been one of the people that the IPB would have hunted down and killed. They would have tried at least. She wouldn’t have made it easy for them to do.

Especially if she didn’t have a choice.

She shook herself out of her own head and focused on the room, which was finally moving toward her, the others seeing that Peggy and Lauren were holding their keys already. It didn’t take long to get everyone assigned. They only had six rooms for the eighteen of them. The agents all got to share one, and they had plenty of space, but it left Warren as the odd man out. It wasn’t that they wouldn’t have taken him; the guy just didn’t think they’d be comfortable with him in the room all the time.

She looked at him and shrugged.

“You can camp out with us if you want. Bridget, Penny and I. I warn you though, it’s a no sex room, so if you want to get any, I suggest you find someone with their own space. That or get Penny to do you. I mean, if I can’t see it, I can’t complain, can I?” She knew Warren was gay, hence the offer in the first place, but the man sighed.

“OK, but really, shouldn’t you check before you just give her virtue away like that? She might not be interested.” He smiled about it, and waved down his rail thin body. “Though what’s not to love?”

The voice in Marcia’s ear hit about six seconds later, and sounded like the girl was standing right beside her, on the right. It might even have been the case.

“Um, alright. Won’t Carl get mad though?”

That got a response from everyone within about fifteen feet. The range was a little off on the devices still, so it sounded like she was speaking directly to everyone that was close enough and had an ear bud in.

Marcia blinked but didn’t say anything. Somehow, in all of it, she’d forgotten that Warren and Carl the level fifteen physical fitness trainer were an item.

The man in front of her didn’t though.

“Good point. Well, we’ll just have to keep it to friendly hugs and backrubs then.”

That line seemed to please Bridget a lot, since she grabbed the man’s bag and started walking, since everyone else was on the sixth floor along with them, and had already located the elevators.

The tiny girl sounded excited then.

“We’re going to have so much fun!”

3

The room was pretty nice from the open doorway, even if they did have to share four ways. Functionally speaking that was about perfect as far as she was concerned. Marcia needed a room with enough people in it that no one would miss her too much if she vanished for a while. It would have been better if they had four visible people, but she’d make do. Odds were that anyone watching would be focused on her right now, out of this group at least. So it would take more work on her part to hide herself in the crowd.

At least if they were talking bad guys. A cameraman tried to follow Warren, snapping pictures the whole time as they walked through the door. It was obvious enough that Marcia nearly confronted the man, to take the film, but Bridget took care of it instead, accidently grabbing the camera and crushing it before the man could do anything but gasp and call her a little bitch.

The girl glared at him.

“There have been at least two terrorist attacks on IPB personnel in the last two months. One of those was a camera crew that had a bomb. Do you have a bomb? How about a gun? Huh?” She started patting the man down as he worked very hard to get away from the tiny thing that was trying to reach into his pockets. It didn’t work very well. She was just too fast for him and short of hitting her there wasn’t a lot he could do about it but squirm.

“What’s this now?” Holding up her hand Bridget showed everyone what looked to be a used condom at first. It had some white powder in it at the bottom. So it wasn’t the man just being considerate after his last rendezvous, not unless he had a major medical problem.

“I don’t have very good drug identification skills, but I’m betting that no one walks around with drugs in a rubber as a rule. They certainly don’t carry sugar or flour that way… or wait… is that a cooking thing Warren? Condom cakes or something gourmet sounding like that?” The man was being pushed against the far wall by the time Marcia got to him, for some reason holding very still.

Probably because the girl had a hold on his testicles and was squeezing just enough to get a reaction. Not a happy one either. The man eyed the camera that was in tiny shards on the floor and wisely didn’t say anything for a while.

When he did speak the words were kind of predictable, if out of place.

“I want a lawyer. This is police brutality.” He whimpered just a bit as the pressure increased.

Marcia tossed her bag into the room behind her with a flick of the wrist, aiming carefully for the far bed, and looked over to see half the IPB operatives and all agents closing on them. Denis and Lancaster got to them first, with Denis putting a hand on Bridget’s shoulder from behind gently.

“Easy now. No need for us to get worked up over a bit of would be drug trafficking. Not our job. Let’s get Chris to make certain he’s on the up and up and then, if he is, we can cut him loose, don’t you think? Good catch though. I’m really having to wonder why someone would walk around with a condom full of… let’s see here… Meth is it? Those look like nice crystals to me.” He took the condom in a well manicured hand and held it up to the light a bit, but didn’t open it. After a few seconds he passed it over to Lancaster who did much the same and nodded.

“Yep, looks like. Enough to get a person in a lot of trouble if they got caught with it too. Really strange way to carry. Why is that I wonder? Get this from a mule?” The muscular agent didn’t wait for anyone to ask more questions, just taking the guy from Bridget and handcuffing him in the hallway, with Reyes and Burke standing back; ready to shoot him if he so much as twitched wrong. It was just procedure for them. Anyone could be Infected on their jobs, no matter what they looked like and that meant anyone could suddenly whip out super-powers without reason. If things got even remotely tense, they’d start shooting.

Then without a word the agents packed the man away with them into their room.

Bridget clapped happily.

“See? Fun already! Let’s go to the beach. I brought my bathing suit. Come on.” She sounded hurried, but that was normal enough for her. She didn’t even wait for the door to close before starting to strip off her clothing, even though the hallway was filled with people and not all of them ones known to her.