Authors: Connie Suttle
"Newer technology," Matt said. "We haven't identified it, yet. Hell-my team hasn't seen anything like it before."
"Nothing to tie it to the Russians?"
"Not yet. We're working on that. Any word on getting yours out of there?"
"I have to see Chuck Marshall about that-the locals are still trying to make some connection to them for all this, when they were the ones attacked."
"If Chuck doesn't have any luck at this, let me know. I may have a trick or two up my sleeve."
He and I were dancing around the fact that Corinne had already played as much of her hand as it was safe to play-we didn't need them disappearing into thin air. "I'll take anything, as long as it doesn't land us in hot water," I agreed.
* * *
Corinne
Since Nathan had been a member of our party, Finch instructed him to stay with us until the locals were done with their investigation. From what I'd seen already, that could take a while.
It made me wonder, too, how long it would take the enemy to bribe or coerce the locals into giving them our information. They knew where we were, after all.
Since we couldn't leave the country and had been advised to stay close to our quarters by an angry Captain Finch, I turned my attention to Merle Askins and the Joint Chiefs. There had to be a way to implicate them instead of Auggie, but so far, I didn't know what that was.
Rafe found me on the back porch three mornings after our narrow escape in Chingaza, soaking up sunlight and pondering Merle Askins' ability to always slip away from any blame.
"Cabbage," he leaned down to kiss me.
"Hi, honey," I said. "I told Auggie that Nathan's bruising actually came from banging around in the back seat of the truck."
"Good." Another cheap, wooden chair scraped across the porch as he drew it beside mine and sat. "Coffee," Opal walked through the back door and handed a mug of coffee to each of us.
"Thanks." I held my mug up with a smile before drinking.
"How are we going to get out of here?" Rafe asked.
"Matt has some ideas," Opal shrugged. "We just have to take Nathan with us."
"I like Nathan. Poor guy," I said.
"Yeah, he's stuck with us, now," Opal agreed and settled cross-legged on the wooden planks of the porch.
"I hope Matt acts quickly. I have no desire to talk to the local police again," Rafe said. "Their questioning tactics are idiotic at best."
"They're not even looking for anyone else-they're saying those helicopters fired on us at the launch site. There were no helicopters anywhere around-we'd have heard them. That missile came from somewhere else," Opal huffed.
"They didn't want their evidence found," Rafe said.
"Or they wanted to kill whoever came looking for it," I offered.
"Finch says his team didn't recognize the technology inside those old shell casings they fired at us," Opal said.
"Yeah." I hunched my shoulders uncomfortably. Things were moving quickly, now, and I didn't like the direction they were going.
"What do you know, cabbage?" Rafe asked.
"I can't tell you. Not here," I said. "I just don't like any of this. It makes me uncomfortable."
"I hear that," Opal agreed.
"At least they're letting Finch's crew continue their investigation of the crash site," Rafe said. "While they continue to glare in our direction, as if it's our fault."
"Get inside," I lifted my hands and stretched before standing. "Now."
We walked into our ugly, concrete housing as if we were going in for breakfast, before shutting the door and locking it behind us. Rafe and I exchanged glances just before those surrounding our building opened fire with machine guns.
* * *
"We're dead again," I said, brushing plaster dust off my sleeves. We stood in Auggie's office in D.C. while he stared at us in shock.
"What about bodies left behind?" he whispered.
"Taken care of," I shrugged. The others stood around me, most of them adapting to the idea that they were still alive instead of cut to pieces inside a poorly-constructed building in San Cristobal.
Poor Nathan didn't understand at all.
"Welcome to the Program," Auggie told him. "I'll have my assistant fill you in."
* * *
James explained to Nathan (as well as he could) about the Program and why he was now considered a part of it. I'd given the okay to Auggie, so he felt comfortable making the addition. I had an ulterior motive in the addition, but that I kept to myself.
"Where will you go?" Auggie asked us while James had his meeting (and lunch) with Nathan.
"I think we should go back to Seattle-there are plenty of suitable places around Granite Falls," I said.
"We can keep an eye on the mountain from there," Rafe agreed.
"Opal and I can pose as hunters if those things get out," Nick had a light in his eyes.
"You really want to go back there? I have no objections, but," Auggie began.
"I think we should," I said. "Vancouver isn't far away. It won't prevent us from taking day trips there and maybe tracking down what we didn't look for before."
"You think somebody's there, don't you?"
"Maybe. Right now, it's all we have," I said. "If you need more help with that British crash, let me know."
"I'm hoping to keep you out of it past this point," Auggie sighed. "Finch has enough information, and as you know-we can't identify the technology used. That means we can't tie it to the Russians or anybody else for now."
"Hold that thought," I said. "Maybe we can get to the bottom of this eventually."
"I sure as hell hope so." Auggie wasn't happy, that much was clear. "They're hauling bodies out of that building in San Cristobal right now. As you said, you're all dead. Again."
"I'm tired of dying," Richard pointed out. Maye touched his arm in sympathy.
"You're arranging this?" Auggie asked, turning back to me.
"Yeah, I guess I am."
"Get the information to James as discreetly as possible."
"I will."
"Cori?" Auggie added.
"Huh?"
"Don't die for real, all right?"
"I'll do my best."
* * *
Merle Askins' Office
"I think we have a clear path, now," Merle said, handing the flash drive to his assistant. "Those in Bogotá died like any other human would. Bodies are being shipped back to the states, but we have the necessary information, on that," he nodded at the flash drive. "You know where to send it."
"I do," his assistant agreed. "Will you be out the rest of the day, sir?"
"Yes. I hate seeing a doctor," Merle rumbled.
"You've had that cough for three weeks and it isn't improving. You probably need antibiotics," his assistant pointed out.
"Probably. I'll be back tomorrow morning. Knowing for sure we've gotten rid of any effective opposition is worth a few thousand lives, don't you think?"
"Of course, sir."
* * *
Corinne
"I like this better than what we had in Alaska," Opal said.
"I had to do some upgrades," I admitted. The outside of the house looked just as it did four hours before we took over as renters. The inside was as luxurious as I could make it, given the time I'd had.
Rent was less than four thousand per month, and the owner lived out of state. That was fine by me-James had set this up for us and paid six months' rent using the bank account I'd created for him under an alias.
Everything was fine-and unless the owner pissed me off somehow, he would benefit from our inhabiting his large, split-cedar home.
"When will we begin our search in Vancouver?" Rafe asked.
"How about tomorrow?" I asked. "Weather is supposed to be nice tomorrow."
"That sounds fine. We can get used to our new kitchen in the meantime."
* * *
Ilya
For dinner, I made a coulibiac-salmon pie-while Corinne cooked vegetable potpie for herself. "I've heard of you." Nathan watched as I placed the salmon pie in the oven to bake.
"Done your research on Russian spies, I take it," I said, attempting to ignore the interruption.
"I know you're from Ukraine," he said. "And I know that you can pound me into dirt if you wanted to. I just wanted to thank you-and Corinne-for saving my ass in Colombia."
"Then you're welcome. Corinne has faith in you, and that is generally a very good thing. For you."
"Who knew the Blacksmith liked to cook?" Nathan wandered away. I snorted a laugh.
"Is there enough room in the oven for my potpie?" Corinne set her smaller pie on the stove.
"I will make room," I told her, stealing a kiss.
* * *
Corinne
"If we go to the library in Vancouver, we can meet there later to come back home," Nick suggested. We were discussing our game plan after breakfast the following morning.
"That sounds just as good as anything else," Richard agreed.
"Library sounds good," I said. "It's centrally located and any cab can get you there with no fuss. Nathan, do you want to go or would you rather stay here?"
"I think I'd like to go," he said.
"Then you come with Nick and me," Opal said. "We'll keep you out of trouble."
Nathan gave Opal a wide grin and nodded.
"Do you have any cash?" I asked.
"I only have the clothes James gave me," he shrugged.
"Okay." I handed cash over. "That's in case you want a soda or something."
"Thanks."
"Ready?"
At everybody's nod, I transported them to the library in Vancouver, which (on the outside) resembled the Coliseum. A rectangular building lay inside the colonnade, so we landed between the two. Making sure we were shielded from view until nobody could see us appear from nothing, we agreed to meet later at a designated time.
"I like this," Ilya whispered against my hair as we took off down the street. The day was sunny and warm while we walked in sunlight. The shadows were cooler, but we stayed in the sun as often as possible.
"You look good in sunglasses," I said, smiling at him. He did-he wore aviators, a bomber jacket, black jeans and boots. I felt young at that moment, as if we'd been sent on vacation for a day.
Granted we were looking for traces of the enemy, but that didn't mean we couldn't enjoy the day and the company.
"Where do you want to look first-in a coffee shop?" He grinned.
"Nothing wrong with that," I said and leaned into him.
We found a Starbucks just a few blocks away. "I'm buying," Ilya smiled and handed the cashier his credit card.
I really didn't care who paid-I just wanted a latte. If it made Ilya smile to buy me coffee, then he could buy me coffee anytime.
By the time we walked out of the coffee shop, however, we had to turn back to business quickly.
Although we were disguised so that nobody would recognize us, we watched as a Baikov clone walked past us on the sidewalk.
Dressed casually in jeans, a polo and boots, Baikov could have been anyone on the street that day.
What the fuck is he doing here?
Ilya sent as we settled in to tail him.
Maybe he was here before-with the Mary clone
, I said.
They were paired in Dublin, maybe there are other pairs elsewhere. Too bad this Mary blew herself up. Wonder if they're sending another Mary to replace the first?
We will follow this one. Make us invisible, cabbage. I do not want them to see us coming.
Honey, they'll never know we were here,
I said, putting up the shield he requested. We tracked Baikov's latest incarnation as he walked purposely down sidewalks, crossed streets and passed shops with barely a glance.
This one-I hadn't seen much in the brief glance I'd gotten of his face. What I knew is that he'd been to a business not far from the Starbucks where we'd stopped, and now was on his way elsewhere.
Tour buses passed now and then, while curious tourists peered out at the people and buildings of Vancouver. I knew many visitors took tours of the city before boarding a boat or leaving Vancouver. We watched as our clone waited at a bus stop and stepped onto a tour bus when it stopped at a designated spot to let tourists on and off.
We need to be on that bus
, Ilya kissed my temple.
You got it, honey
, I replied and transported us onto an empty seat at the back with nobody the wiser.
We were now tourists, just like all the others on the bus, who were using their cell phones or cameras to snap photographs as we went along. When we arrived at Stanley Park, which had nature trails and gardens, Baikov stepped off the bus.
Ilya and I left the same way we'd gotten on-I moved us.
Looking both ways as the bus engine rumbled into gear and pulled away, Baikov walked toward a trail leading into a rose garden nearby.