Allie's War Season One (103 page)

Her voice rose as Palmer shook his head.

“...This was an
atrocity,
Palmer. Get your head on straight about that, before you talk to any goddamn reporters! Whatever the feeds want to speculate, this wasn’t a terrorist training ground. Our intel is clear. This was a bunch of kids being sold on the auction block by Chinese fascists to the highest bidder...and you better stay on message about that, or we’ll look like jackasses when the truth comes out. As you know it will...”

“Kids?” he spat. “Little glow-eye rats!”

“They were
children.”

“Enough!” the Chief Justice broke in.

Every eye turned to her.

Even Palmer fell silent, but his lip curled at the woman’s wrinkled face, the coldness of her eyes beneath those reptilian lids.

For a bare instant, he contemplated ignoring her to continue the argument with Jarvesch...but when that gaze sharpened on his, he shrugged instead, walking to the drink cart parked in the middle of the room.

He began refilling his glass with square cubes.

“Where is he, anyway?” he muttered. “Speaking to his fans?”

“Something like that,” another voice said.

EVERYONE IN THE room turned, this time towards the door to the garden.

Andrea Jarvesch couldn’t help but shake her head at the theatricalness of the human’s entrance.

Wellington smiled from the east french door that led out to the rose gardens. He wore a slightly rumpled blue suit with a red silk tie. Smiling wider at their caught expressions, he shut the door behind him, making extra noise on purpose as he turned. His dark skin shone a deep chocolate under the warm lights of the Oval Office lamps. His handsome features stood out below amber-colored eyes as he chuckled.

“Aww,” he said to Jarvesch, looking around at the other faces in turn. He paused on the Chief Justice. “You all look so sad. Did you miss me?”

“No,” the old woman said.

The room erupted in laughter, louder from the tension being broken than even from nerves. It wasn’t until Palmer looked away that Andrea, the old Justice and Wellington focused their eyes back on him.

They gave one another brief glances.

...Every government needs a little controversy,
Ethan thought, clearly so that the two seers could hear him.
He’s loud enough to be useful. Dim enough to not be a threat...

...I’m a little tired of his dimness myself,
Jarvesch sent.
Can’t we find one who’s good-looking at least? If I could bring myself to fuck him, I’d have him under control in no time...

Ethan’s humor invaded the Barrier space.

He gave the barest shrug, hands clasped at the small of his back.
His lack of grace makes him easier to dismiss. Would you like a more articulate opponent, Sister?

Jarvesch smiled sweetly.
Technically, you are not my brother, worm...

...How much longer for the delay?
Xarethe sent to both of them. She barely masked her impatience that he could manage to argue with himself even in the midst of a crisis.
...He has secured the boy, has he not? Palmer is an idiot, but in this case, he is partly right. We must show the Chinese we are serious. We cannot afford to back down from a direct engagement. Humans can smell that kind of weakness...

He has the boy. He is near the front lines, but there is a complication...

When isn’t there?
Xarethe sent.

Ethan smiled around at the room, pausing on Palmer, then on the others of his cabinet. His smile grew broader.

“I apologize,” he said aloud.

Human or not, Jarvesch noted in somewhat self-serving admiration that he had the gift of sounding like he meant it.

“...a slight emergency has arisen,” Wellington continued, after just the right amount of pause. “One that must be attended to prior to our debrief. I wonder if I could trouble you good people to wait for me outside? You’re welcome to order anything you’d like from the kitchen, of course...I won’t be long. I just need to have a word with our friend, Jarvesch, here.”

Great,
Jarvesch sent, folding her arms.
They already think I’m sleeping with you.

No, sister,
Wellington thought back humorously.
They know full well you’re sleeping with Rogers. It was sweet of him to defend you just now, by the way...

She rolled her eyes, giving Rogers a brief glance.

“Now?” Palmer’s voice rose. “Is this a joke?”

“Only for a moment, gentlemen, I assure you.” Wellington raised an arm, palm open, to indicate ushering them out. “...Please. Wait in the foyer...thanks.”

Rogers complied first, setting his drink on the table before giving Jarvesch a nod on his way out the door. After a few more exchanged looks, the others began to rise, or to aim for the door if they were already on their feet.

The Chief Justice rose, too.

“Madam,” Ethan said, with one of his charming smiles. “I’d like you to stay, too.”

Palmer glared around at all of them before downing half of his drink and leaving his glass on the brass cart. He continued to mutter as he followed the others out the door.

The Chief Justice didn’t move, but her mind focused on Wellington.

What is the issue now?
Speaking the thought directly into Ethan’s mind, she ignored the humans as they continued to file out the door.
Are the children fighting? Or did he manage to lose the boy altogether?

Smiling faintly, Ethan waited until the last person exited.

He shut the double doors himself after ushering out the porter, glancing over his shoulder at Xarethe, otherwise known as Chief Justice Novak.

“He killed their guides,” Ethan explained, glancing at Jarvesch.

Jarvesch chuckled. The Chief Justice frowned, in the Barrier and outside.

“Four is concerned they are wandering too close to the front,” Ethan added. “He has requested help. I thought we could stop the fighting long enough to get a chopper in there...call it military aide, whatever. The problem is, now the Adhipan have arrived...”

Is he in danger from the boy?
the Chief Justice said.
Four. Has the boy hurt him?

“No.” Ethan shook his head, loosening his tie. “The boy seems to have accepted him. That persona at least. He’s even shown signs of affection. But he still can’t be controlled—”

What about Three? Can he help?
Jarvesch sent.

Ethan glanced at her. “We’ve already sent him. He’s been ID’d by the Adhipan, though...and they appear to be tracking him.” Glancing at Xarethe, he added, “Dehgoies is with them.”

Before the others could react, he waved them off.

“...But that’s not what I wanted to talk about. I think I can get Four and the boy out safe. It’s the boy I’m worried about. He needs a mother...or a friend. Someone he’ll actually listen to. He’s positively starved for affection, which we might be able to use. Four seems to be bonding with him...better than I’d hoped, really...but to call the kid a loose cannon would be an understatement. If we can’t figure out a way to control him, he will be useless to us...or near to.”

Ethan turned to Xarethe, his amber eyes reflecting light.

“Any ideas on how to expedite the process, Madam?” He gave the senior seer a polite bow. “...In the American vernacular, I believe I’m ‘tapped out.’ The contributions of Dehgoies Revik’s diary, helpful as they were, seem to be at an end. Given that the focus needs to remain on getting the boy out safe, it may be a few weeks yet, before I can steal back what Alyson took...”

There was a silence while the old woman thought, staring out through the tall windows behind the desk. While they waited, Andrea listened faintly to the minds of the humans milling in the foyer, sharing what she heard with Ethan.

...do you have the press order yet?

...the latest word from the Sweeps is that there are still skirmishes occurring among seer factions in Sikkim. The Sweeps have it contained, but they’re keeping an eye on...

...Do we have the latest casualty report from Pakistan? What about...

Xarethe turned, looking between the two Terians as she drummed her fingers on the silk upholstered couch.

“I see,” she said then. “Yes...I believe you’ve hit on exactly the solution, Ethan dear. Exactly what we need.”

Wellington gave her a puzzled smile...then grew quiet, taking in the images the ancient sent him through the Barrier space. As a human, he of necessity absorbed such information more slowly, even with help from the two seers in the room.

Once he had fully digested the information, he nodded, rubbing his chin.

“I understand,” he said slowly. “But it won’t be easy. Not anymore.”

The old woman chuckled. “I don’t know, Terry,” she sent. “I think you may find it is easier than it has ever been. You may be astonished at how easy it is...even if you can’t use the boy.” She looked to Jarvesch. “Find a way to make it happen. And do it quickly. We need him operational...and fast. All of our plans depend on securing his cooperation in the short term.”

“I understand...” Ethan began.

Jarvesch folded her arms, frowning. “So how do we get Four out?” she said.

“Send Raven,” said Xarethe, decisive.

Ethan’s mouth pursed. “Raven? But then she’ll know about the boy.”

Jarversch shook her head as well. “No outsiders.”

Xarethe overruled both Terians. “She’ll be on the same page with this. Believe me. You can trust her. Just make sure you pay her well...”

Ethan and Jarvesch exchanged tense glances. Raven would be loyal to Xarethe—both Terians had little doubt of that—but that loyalty may not translate to any or all parts of him.

After another silence, Ethan inclined his head towards the door.

“All right,” he said, “We’d better bring them back in.”

Jarvesch rolled her eyes, putting her game face back on.

“Fine. Do it.”

She downed the last of her drink as Ethan crossed the room and unlatched the double doors.

“Friends,” he smiled, opening wide his arm, this time to usher them back inside. Winking at Jarvesch, he clapped Palmer on the back as he passed. “...I think it’s official.” He met Xarethe’s lizard-like gaze. “We have a plan.”

Waiting for the rest of them to file in, he closed the doors, still smiling.

“...Apologies for the secrecy. I had some intel I could only share with Jarvesch. Good news is, our direction is clear. And it won’t involve us stopping the war for more than a day...which should suit even you, Greg.” At the surprised murmurs in the group, Ethan cleared his throat. “We’ll need to hammer out our press strategy. But first...a drink!”

Palmer grunted as, one by one, the rest of the cabinet found or refilled their glasses. More than one gave the Chief Justice a wary look as they passed, but each looked away before the old woman caught them staring.

Within moments, Ethan had them gathered in a rough circle around the two facing couches in front of the room’s fireplace. At his cue, they lifted and clinked glasses solemnly. Even Jarvesch was forced to smile, raising her own glass to tap it collegially against Palmer’s.

“To the end of war,” Ethan said.