Cloud Invasion (23 page)

"A good choice," the salesclerk said, unlocking the case and pulling the ring from its velvet nest. "Two and a half carat oval diamond, surrounded by smaller diamonds with more falling halfway down the band." He set it on a convenient black velvet pad so we could see the brilliance of the cut.

My breath caught when I saw the price-thirty-eight thousand dollars. "Try it on," Rafe smiled, reaching for my hand and placing the ring on my finger.

"We'll size it for free, with a lifetime of free cleaning and mounting checks," the salesclerk beamed.

Holy shit, Ilya
, I sent to him.

Worth every penny
, he shot back. "We'll take it," he nodded to the clerk. "With the matching band and a man's wedding ring."

He ended up selecting a band for himself that had diamonds spaced about the wide ring made of gold and platinum. The total? More than fifty thousand.

He didn't blink when he handed over the credit card I'd given him, either.

I'd have spent more
, he informed me as he signed the slip.
But this is what my cabbage wanted
.

"Do you want those sized? We can have them ready in a week," the clerk offered.

"We'll bring them back. For now, I'd like to take them with us," Ilya said.

We watched as the rings were boxed up, tied with ribbons and placed in a pretty, white bag with the store's logo on the front. We walked out seconds later. In all, we'd spent less than twenty minutes in the store.

"Will you transport us to Vegas? I want to get married today," Ilya said, taking me by surprise as we strolled through the mall.

"Can we get that done in an hour and a half?" I blinked up at him, feeling nervous, suddenly.

"Come-take us there and we will see."

* * *

I trembled slightly as I said my vows, but they were said. Ilya kissed me nicely at the end, too. The moment the license was signed and witnessed by two chapel employees, we left Las Vegas behind and landed in the dim hallway with five minutes to spare.

I'd had to size the rings using power, but they fit.

The others found us kissing in the hall when they arrived a few minutes later.

"Did you?" Leo began.

"License," Ilya handed the folded paper to Leo.

"Holy shit," James crowed after looking over Leo's shoulder at our proof of marriage. "Congratulations."

"If you're wondering, Rafe is registered at guns-n-bombs-r-us," I said.

Nick snorted a laugh.

"Nice ring," Opal grinned.

"Yeah."

* * *

Notes-Colonel Hunter

"We have something," Matt laid a folder on my desk. He'd shown up unannounced and scared my temporary assistant so badly the man could only stutter as he ushered Director Michaels into my office.

"Close the door, Corporal," I motioned for my assistant to do just that.

"Yessir," he couldn't leave my office quickly enough.

"What's this?" I opened the folder to look. Photographs were inside, taken with a Telephoto lens.

"They're taking the rockets through the tunnel," Matt smiled. "You can see for yourself-those crates contain their weapons."

"Crates don't mean anything," I began.

"No, but keep looking."

Matt had done a thorough job. Whoever he'd had on this assignment was more than good-they had photographs of the crates going into trucks, the trucks driving to a facility ten miles away on Russian soil, and then the same crates unloaded onto a dock leading underground.

The last photo was the best-somehow, an agent infiltrated the facility and snapped photographs of the crates as they were unloaded, revealing the rockets meant for shooting down planes.

"We need to see the President. Now," I stood and slapped the folder shut.

"Already have an appointment."

"When?"

"When we get there."

* * *

Ilya

The order came from Colonel Hunter as Corinne and I had a late lunch on the beach house deck-we had to get to D.C. as quickly as possible.

* * *

Notes-Colonel Hunter

I'd directed them to the ugly building in Arlington. They'd stay there until word came from Matt or me. Meanwhile, Matt put the plan to work to pose agents as Corinne and Rafe-I felt he was taking a big chance doing so, but I didn't argue the point.

Things had gone from a crawl to a gallop in the space of a few hours. Madam President already had a call in to the Russian Ambassador, demanding his presence at the White House.

Two of Matt's lookalikes would be there with us when that meeting took place. Matt intended to photograph the Ambassador leaving the White House, accompanied by those same lookalikes.

It was our way of cloning, when nothing could be farther from the truth. I hoped the enemy wouldn't realize it, however.

We were gambling, Matt and I, and I hoped we wouldn't be caught with a losing hand.

"What is the meaning of this?" the Russian Ambassador demanded the moment he was ushered into the Oval Office.

"Sit down," Madam President ordered. "There's something we'd like to get to the bottom of, and you're the first rung on that ladder."

The Ambassador looked from the President to me, then to Matt and the two agents, both of whom closely resembled Corinne and Rafe. He swallowed with difficulty. The corner of Matt's mouth curled.

* * *

Corinne

"Matt got photographs of the rocket shipment into Russia," Opal said. "Plus he managed to infiltrate the storage facility, too. Undeniable proof. I can't wait to see how the Ambassador dances around this."

"I'd like to see how he'd dance around all the Baikovs we've killed off, with more probably waiting in the wings," I said. "Not to mention all the Marys and Beckers and who knew what that scaly woman was."

"Good point," Opal agreed. "At least we haven't found any more with those metal contraptions hooked to their spines."

"An unfortunate piece of equipment," Leo said. "The last I heard, ours were working on a similar model."

"Leo, did you intend to spoil my day?" I turned to him, then. "Those things are an abomination all the way around."

"Corinne, I never intend to spoil your day," he said. "Do you feel better?"

"Yeah."

"Except for the argument over her last name," Ilya said.

"Honey," I sighed.

"We will discuss this later," he nodded. Somehow, I had the feeling that he'd end up getting his way, like he usually did.

We were considering what take-out to order when more information came from Matt and Auggie-while they'd grilled the Russian Ambassador at the White House, Matt received word from an undercover operative in Iraq.

A shipment of tiny rockets had arrived in Mosul, after traveling a roundabout route over land and water to get them there.

None of these were the ones I'd deactivated in Russia.

The insurgents now had two large crates of tiny rockets that they could fire at will to destroy whatever they wanted.

* * *

Notes-Colonel Hunter

"I swear this must be the work of criminals-the Kremlin had nothing to do with this," the Russian Ambassador blustered. We needed the real Corinne and fast, to see whether she could determine the truth or lie of his statements.

I'll admit, Matt had instructed the Corinne lookalike very well; she stood with her arms crossed, gazing angrily at the Ambassador.

"I'll be back in a moment," I held up my cell as if I were receiving a call. Striding out of the Oval Office as quickly as seemed prudent, I made a call to Leo Shaw the moment I was down a hall and alone.

"We need Corinne in the Oval Office," I said as softly as I could. "She just has to come in invisibly. I need to know whether the Russian Ambassador is telling the truth."

"We're here," Corinne and Rafe appeared beside me before Leo could give an answer.

"Never mind," I said and ended the call. "Invisible, now," I hissed at Corinne.

"We are invisible. And soundproofed. You're not," she pointed a finger accusingly at me. "Lead the way. We'll be right behind you."

* * *

Corinne

Ilya and I floated invisibly behind Auggie as he walked into the Oval Office. Madam President glanced his way quickly before turning back to the Russian Ambassador, who was sweating.

He was lying, too-I think Matt had already figured that out. Something bothered me about his demeanor as well.

I made a mental note to scan everybody from then on-I barely had time to get everybody out of there, including the Secret Service agents standing guard outside the door. The Russian Ambassador exploded, taking the Oval Office and everything in it with him.

Chapter 16

Notes-Colonel Hunter

Richard Farrell studied the metal device attached to what was left of the Ambassador's spine. The President wouldn't be pleased to learn that another device had found its way into the White House. At least she was alive to be angry about it.

The media had already begun its speculation, with a leak from somewhere reporting that the Russian Ambassador had been summoned to the White House just before the Oval Office was destroyed by a bomb.

The President was obligated to appear at a short press conference after that information was revealed, confirming that her agents had gotten her out of the Oval Office when they realized the Ambassador was wired with a bomb.

That didn't alter the fact that we still had to deal with the insurgency in Iraq, who now had small, deadly rockets at their disposal. I didn't have time to speak with Corinne or any of the others about that-we'd been too busy taking care of the President and the aftermath of the bombing.

Matt had been on his cell phone constantly after the explosion, attempting to get his field agents to follow the rockets in Iraq. Ever since this terrorist offshoot had sprung up years ago, we'd made inroads off and on, only to see it surge back, just as strong or stronger.

It didn't help that people from other countries kept signing up with the rebels, either, and that in itself was impossible to stop.

I had no doubt as to whom they'd target-anybody who fought or stood against them would be bombed into oblivion.

"Want a ride to Arlington?" Matt shut off his phone and looked at me.

"Richard?" I turned to Dr. Farrell.

"I wouldn't mind a ride-I've done as much as I can do, here," he nodded.

"Good. Let's go," I said. "I want to talk to Corinne and Rafe."

* * *

Ilya

"This is where the shipment of rockets was seen," Matt pointed to a spot on the map of Iraq. "I have someone there who sent the information, but we can't blow his cover or he's dead-you understand?"

I did-the merest whisper of suspicion in this group and you'd die-death was their main purpose. They didn't veil their actions behind religion-they'd gotten so far away from any tenets of their religion that they no longer bothered to claim it.

"What do you want us to do?" I asked. I assumed they wanted me to be involved, somehow. Corinne stood next to me, studying the map while Matt and I spoke. Iraq was the last place I wanted Corinne to be. I'd thought Chernobyl the worst, until this was placed before us.

"Pictures?" Corinne asked, surprising me for a moment.

"Huh? Oh." Light dawned in Matt Michaels' eyes. "Yes, I think I can arrange that."

"It may convince them to attack sooner," Colonel Hunter pointed out.

"Nothing will stop them from attacking. Sooner or later, does it really matter?" Matt asked.

"Not with these," I said. "Their only concern for life is for their own."

"I'll have images in an hour," Matt said, lifting the cell phone Corinne had given him and placing a call.

"Come, cabbage," I breathed against her temple. "Sit with me for a while. I need to have you close to me."

* * *

Notes-Colonel Hunter

"There are no innocent lives to be concerned about," I said as photograph after photograph was loaded onto a tablet for Corinne. "She'd recognize them anyway, if there were."

"That is an outstanding gift," Matt said. "I think it's extremely unusual, even in her current race."

"Current race?" A chill passed through me at Matt's words.

"She's not human. I hope you realize that," he said. "Nick isn't human, either. Maye is the closest to being human. Rafe's talent for shielding is certainly not human."

"Fuck," I scrubbed my face with a hand. "I never really thought of that, before."

"The evidence has been in front of you all along. That's what the drug does. Why it created a dinosaur from another planet, and creatures you've never seen before. Why so many died. That drug was never meant to be given to humans. It's why we have an enemy to fight, now."

"Because somebody decided it might be fun to try," I sighed.

"For whatever reason," Matt confirmed. "Richard may be the one to ask about that."

"Maybe, when this is all past us," I said. "This is the hand we have to play now, before more innocent lives are taken."

"Very true," Matt confirmed. "Almost done, here. Will it be a problem that we have more than four hundred in this initial round?"

"No. I've seen her do this before," I shrugged. "No innocent lives, remember?"

"I remember."

* * *

Corinne

In for a penny, in for a pound
. That old saying went through my mind regularly as Rafe held me. We stared out a window of the ugly building in Arlington, while I contemplated the task before me.

Just making people dead wouldn't be enough. There had to be something else-something that would make those who remained fear for their own lives. I had to dig into the past to determine what might work.

"Ready?" Auggie's voice was soft as he interrupted us.

"Yeah," I sighed. Ilya loosened his arms-I accepted the tablet Auggie handed me. "Dead," I sighed at the first photograph. "Dead," I spoke to the second.

* * *

"Corinne? Cori?" Auggie snapped his fingers in front of my face. I had no idea how long I'd been catatonic, but it must have been a while. Leo sat with Ilya on the other side of the room; Ilya looked ready to either fall apart or kill somebody.

"They can't fire the rockets," I said, blinking to bring Auggie's face into focus.

"Why?" He knelt beside me, concern in his expression as he asked the question.

"One of the people I made dead knew where they were," I shrugged weakly. "I deactivated all of them, including the propulsion system. They won't work, now."

"Where were you?" Auggie asked. "You've been out of it for more than two hours."

"Killing is a terrible thing, Auggie," I said. "Nobody should do it."

"It was necessary, cabbage," Ilya sat beside me.

"I know. I still hate doing it."

"We have word," Matt strode into the room, waving the cell phone I'd given him. "The insurgents are so angry that the rockets won't work, they've declared jihad against Russia."

"Who are they blaming for the deaths?" Auggie rose and asked.

"They don't know who to blame, and they're afraid to place blame, most likely," Matt said. "Here's an image of the note pinned to every dead man."

"I can't read that," Auggie said. "It looks like Arabic."

"It is. It says, and I'm paraphrasing,
this death was deserved. Carry on in this one's footsteps and you will receive the same
."

"Corinne?" Auggie turned to me. I shrugged again.

"I didn't kill three," I said. "But I gave them a warning."

"What was the warning?" Matt asked.

"I told them in mindspeech that they were marked," I replied. "I figure they're trying to get the hell away from the others now. After all, I saw plenty of others after reading each one before he died. I have just about the entire insurgent army inside my memory, now."

"Holy fucking hell," Auggie swore.

"I'd prefer not to kill them," I said. "But I could."

"Matt?" Opal walked into the room.

"What is it?" We both knew, just from the tone of Opal's voice, that something had happened.

"The Kremlin was hit by two rockets," Opal said. "Seven are dead and the Russian President is having a meltdown."

"Good," Ilya muttered.

* * *

Notes-Colonel Hunter

"Am I to understand that the Kremlin has been harboring insurgent leaders?" Madam President demanded.

We'd had to meet in another wing of the White House while the Oval Office underwent repairs. Her questions should have been posed to the Russian Ambassador, who was still just as dead as he was before. Russian President Zoran hadn't named a replacement-his state house had been hit, just as ours had been.

He still claimed he knew nothing about the bomb his Ambassador wore. We were hesitant to call him out on the device attached to the Ambassador's spine. He'd refused a video call, preferring a normal telephone conversation with Madam President instead, after the Kremlin was hit.

"Perhaps it's time to stop the lies," Madam President said. "We found the cache of rockets used to bring down those planes. That warehouse is on Russian soil, President Zoran. We also followed another shipment of those weapons as it traveled a convoluted route, only to arrive in Iraq. Can you explain that?"

"Those responsible are outlaws. I beg you to forgive my government-the signs of this illegal activity were certainly missed. We had no knowledge of it."

"Then what do you want us to do? Are you going to shut down that operation? I have no idea what the UN may say about this-those rockets killed hundreds of citizens from several countries. I believe those countries will be quite angry if we release the information we have."

"Yes, of course-I have already taken steps to shut this down and capture those responsible," he said.

"What about the insurgents who did their best to destroy the Kremlin?"

"We were working on a peace treaty, so they would not attack us," Zoran whined. "Instead, they turn on us without letting us explain."

I wanted to express my disbelief at this point-Zoran was lying, that was easy enough to see. Madam President wasn't buying it, either, but diplomacy is a dance at best, and often a downright hostile one.

"Perhaps we could meet soon and work out a peace of our own," Madam President said.

"Yes. Please. If you will agree to help defend us against these insurgents, then I will agree to meet with members of all countries affected by those terrible weapons and we will discuss peace and full disclosure."

I had to cover my mouth to keep the words behind my teeth. I had no idea what the fucker really wanted, but full disclosure wasn't one of them. I wanted information on his version of the Program. I doubted that would be forthcoming.

"Very well. Decide on a date and I'll see about bringing the others on board. We can meet at Camp David or the White House if you prefer."

"Yes, that sounds quite good," Zoran agreed. "I will let you know soon. But please, any assistance you might provide against these insurgents will be most appreciated."

"I'll see what we can do," Madam President said dryly and ended the call.

"He's lying," I almost exploded.

"I agree," Matt said. "But what does he really want?"

"I say we call his bluff and find out," Madam President said. "Matt, are you still tracking Askins? I've asked the Justice Department to hold off charging him, in case he leads us in the enemy's direction."

"I've had his phone tapped for a while, but he's not using that one to contact anybody except his doctor and other people who don't matter."

"Does he have what you have? I have to say, this cell phone is amazing," she held up the one Matt had given to her-it was one of the phones Corinne had given to us before we left Seattle.

"I hope he doesn't have anything like that," Matt said. "But he's hiding his tracks somehow-you can bet on that. He hasn't spoken to the Joint Chiefs, either, not since Corinne sent the package to his office."

"Anything from them?" the President asked.

"Nothing. They're so squeaky clean it hurts to look at them."

"I just want the bastard to come out of hiding," the President fumed.

"We gave that a shot-letting him believe Corinne was dead. Too bad we couldn't let that continue," Matt said. "It would have been worse, though, to let those creatures loose in Iraq."

"It would have been too bad to allow them to fire those weapons wherever and whenever," the President nodded. "We know he has ties to whatever faction is in Russia, developing those weapons. I worry that those in the Kremlin are in this up to their eyebrows. I just want to know what the hell he intends to get from all this."

"I think we'd all like to get that answer," I said. "If Corinne can't see it, you know where that leaves the rest of us."

"I do."

* * *

Corinne

"Matt says the Russian President is begging for a meeting, so he can claim that criminals are behind the weapons manufacturing in Ukraine and Russia, leaving his hands clean and preventing the insurgents from blowing up more of the Kremlin," Opal said as she slid onto a barstool at the kitchen island.

Since we occupied the ugly building in Arlington, I'd made a few improvements in the ugly kitchen. Now it wasn't ugly, and actually had updated décor and appliances.

"So he wants everybody to believe he had nothing to do with the Russian version of the Program," I muttered, handing Opal a cup of hot tea.

"Looks that way. I wouldn't want every other country in the world looking at me as a target, for blowing up their airplanes," she shrugged.