“And
you did flinch, and missed,” I said, pulling my own pistol from the holster
on my hip and laying it on the desk in front of me. I’d easily have it in my
hand if he made any kind of move in my direction. “You can lower your
weapon, sergeant.”
Martinez
brought her arm down and laid the pistol on her desk. She rested her hand
next to it.
“Did
I, Charlie?” Shuster said, turning to look at me.
“Did
you what?”
“Miss,”
he said. “I believe you can only call it a miss when you don’t hit what
you’re shooting at. I don’t think that describes what happened last
night.”
I
smiled. “Oh, I get it. You deliberately aimed and fired at my
wall.”
“I
deliberately aimed and fired at something other than Sgt. Martinez,” he
said. “My hope was that her return fire would go wide and let me get out
your window without a giant fucking bruise in the middle of my
chest.”
“Look,
Shuster, we found the remains of your primary team. Brenner ID’d Clarke. We
talked to the transporter crew chief and we know that Clarke planted the
bomb. We know you have a backup team. We have names, we’ll get pictures, and
we’ll find them.” I smiled. “It’s over, whether you want to admit it or not.
So how about you cut the crap and stop playing games, okay?”
“Over?”
He shook his head. “Old buddy, it’s just getting to the exciting part. And
by the way, a lot of what you say you know is...” He smiled. “Well, I guess
I’ll just say it. It’s dead wrong.”
I
leaned back in the chair. The only way to get the answers I wanted out of
Shuster was to let him talk himself out. From what Takeda had told me about
Special Collections, I wasn’t going to be able to force information out of
him.
“Then
please,” I said. “Tell me where I’m wrong.”
“Clarke
didn’t plant the bomb,” he said. “Clarke disconnected the
trigger.”
“Why
would he do that?”
“Because
that’s why I put him on the transporter,” I said. “Best demo man I could
find on short notice. Ali was pretty good too, but Clarke was
better.”
“Ali?”
“Work
name Mahathir,” he said. “Clarke’s backup. Ali actually found the bomb, but
Clarke pulled the plug.”
“Why
would you disconnect a bomb that you’d put there?”
Shuster
sighed. “I don’t get it, Charlie,” he said. “You’re supposed to be a
detective. I really don’t understand why you’re having so much trouble
following what I’m saying.”
“I’m
following you just fine,” I said. “I’m just not buying it.”
“Then
obviously I’m not selling it right,” he said. “Call the Governor General.
He’ll vouch for me.”
I
laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure he will.”
“Call
him,” Shuster said calmly. “I can give you the number or you can get it
through General Bain. I’m Special Collections, assigned to the Governor
General’s Office.” He smiled. “You saw the pendant, old buddy. Just give him
my name.”
“What
name,” I asked. “Emmett Dalton? Glenn Richardson? You have so
many.”
“Marc
Shuster,” he said. “I work directly for Chris Austin. He sent me here and
he’s one of three people, including you, that knows my real name. Call him.
After he okays me to your satisfaction, I’ll lay it out for you. Cut through
the crap you mentioned.” He paused. “Tick-tock, Charlie.”
I
hesitated for a moment. It was a lot to take in. The Governor General
wouldn’t send a team to kill Heymann. He wanted to open diplomatic relations
with the rest of the world. Which meant if Shuster was working for
him...
“All
right,” I said. “I’ll call your bluff.”
I
took the phone from my pocket and pressed the second icon on the home
screen. The direct dial link to Phillip Bain.
It
rang twice. “Bain,” he said.
“Welles.
I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“I’ve
been awake since Miss Takeda called to report the attempt on Ambassador
Heymann’s life,” he said. “She tells me that you’ve since taken Marc Shuster
into custody. Good work.” He paused. “But I’m sure you’re not calling for an
attaboy.”
“No
sir,” I said. “I need some assistance.”
“And
why are you calling me directly? Is Miss Takeda unable to provide what you
need?”
“It’s
not that,” I said. “Actually, I need to speak to the Governor General and it
seemed like you were the best way to get that done.”
“Why
do you need to speak to Austin?”
I
took a deep breath. “Shuster says that he works for the Governor General’s
Office. He says that his man was responsible for deactivating the bomb under
Dr. Heymann’s trailer. And the bomb
had
been deactivated before EOD
arrived, according to the EOD sergeant.”
“What
else does he say?”
“That’s
about it. Says he’ll give us everything once we know he’s legit.”
Bain
was silent for a moment. “It’s ninety minutes to sunset in Grand Forks,” he
said. “Can this wait?”
I
stared at Shuster. “I don’t think it can, general. If we’re barking up the
wrong tree, there’s a right tree that we should be barking up.”
“I’ll
call you back,” he said, disconnecting the call.
I
put the phone on the desk. “So why all the games, Shuster? Why the lunch
meeting, the midnight visit with the spotlight and the gun, the men smuggled
into the city on the transporter?”
“Trust,”
he said. “My orders were to start by trusting noone, then slowly extend
trust after people proved themselves.” He paused. “Unfortunately that takes
time, and time is the one thing I didn’t have. If I’d had a week instead of
a couple of days, things would have played out a whole lot differently.” He
paused again. “Hell, if you didn’t have a connection with JJ Brenner, things
would have played out differently.”
“What
does Brenner have to do with it?”
He
smiled and shook his head.
The
phone rang a minute later. I picked it up and answered. “Welles.”
“Phillip
Bain,” he said. “Stay on the line, Mr. Welles.”
I
heard a couple of clicks. “Are we connected,” I heard an unfamiliar voice
ask.
“This
is Charlie Welles,” I said. “Who am I speaking to?”
“Charlie,
this is Chris Austin,” he said. Christopher Austin. Governor General. The
most powerful vampire in the world. “How are you doing down
there?”
“We’re
doing okay, sir,” I said. “I don’t know if Mr. Bain filled you in,
but...”
“He
certainly did,” Austin said. “He tells me that you’ve been doing a helluva
job keeping Dr. Heymann alive. We appreciate that, Charlie. We really
do.”
“Thank
you, sir.”
“Phillip
also tells me that you’ve managed to capture Marc Shuster. I have to be
honest here, that would surprise me. Marc isn’t the kind of man that gets
taken. At least not alive, if you know what I mean.”
I
stared at Shuster. “I believe he let us capture him, sir.”
Shuster
smiled back at me.
“Now
see, that would make a lot more sense,” he said. “And it says to me that he
thinks you’re okay, that he can trust you.” He paused. “Can he trust you,
Charlie?”
“That
depends, sir,” I said. “He tells me that he works for your
office.”
“He
doesn’t work for my office,” Austin said with a barking laugh. “He works for
me.” He was silent for a moment and when he spoke, the humor was gone from
his voice. “Directly for me.”
“Then
I guess he can trust me,” I said.
“That’s
great to hear,” he said. “Can I talk to Marc for a minute?”
I
looked at Martinez and pointed at Shuster’s handcuffs. She stood and came
over, bending down to unlock them. “Just a second, sir,” I said. “We’re
removing the restraints.”
Austin
laughed.
The
handcuffs came free. I leaned over the desk and handed Shuster the phone,
then pointed at his feet. Martinez nodded and squatted down to remove the
handcuffs from his ankles.
“Shuster,”
he said into the phone. He listened for a few moments, then said, “Yes, sir.
It seemed like the most efficient way to proceed.” A pause. “Yes, sir, I’ll
do that.” He listened again, then nodded. “Understood, sir. Thank you,
sir.”
As
Martinez stood, the linked handcuffs dangling from her hand, Shuster handed
the phone back to me. I checked the screen. Austin had hung up.
“You’re
in luck, old buddy,” he said. “The Governor General must have heard some
good things about you from Bain . He’s given me the go-ahead to give you a
full briefing. Soup to nuts.”
The
cell phone on the desk rang again. I picked it up “Welles.”
“Phillip
Bain,” he said. “You’re to afford Mr. Shuster your full cooperation and
assistance,” he said. “I’ve just spoken to Miss Takeda and she’s been made
aware of the situation. You can expect her there no later than 9 pm, but
don’t wait for her. Find out what you can from Mr. Shuster and start
implementing whatever you need to do as a result of his
information.”
“Will
do, sir,” I said. He hung up.
I
put the phone down again and looked at Shuster. “Most important question. Is
Heymann in danger right now?”
He
shook his head. “My expert opinion is that’s he’s okay, at least for a
little while. He was supposed to be dead. Heymann, Clay, Thodberg.” He
paused. “You. The Security Force troopers. Everybody. According to what
Clarke told me about the size of the bomb, Jackson Square would have been a
smoking crater after that bad boy went off.”
“But
it couldn’t go off. It was dead before it left the transporter. Clarke made
sure of that.”
He
nodded. “Sending my team in on the transporter killed three birds with one
stone. They’d come in under the radar, unexpected and virtually untraceable.
They’d be available as additional on-site security for Heymann and his party
if the transporter came under attack while it was on the road.” He smiled.
“And they’d have the chance to give Heymann’s trailer a good once-over while
it was in transit, make sure that nobody had added anything. Like a big
bomb.”
“How
did the bomb even get on the trailer?” I asked. “Wasn’t there security on it
from the time it was unloaded in New York?”
“Yeah,
there sure was,” he said. “Good security. Didn’t want any surprises.” He
sighed. “We’re going to have to lift the trailer to remove the explosives.
When we do that, we’ll probably get some solid answers. Clarke couldn’t do
much on the transporter. Identify it, deactivate it. Our working hypothesis
at this stage is that the bomb wasn’t placed on the ambassador’s trailer
while it was in the United States. We think it was shipped over from Europe
with the bomb already in place.”
“How
is that possible? Does the rogue element in area government have agents
overseas?”
He
shook his head. “They don’t need agents,” he said. “Just a line of
communication with like-minded individuals on the other side of the pond.
Just as we have people here who aren’t into the idea of friendly relations
with the rest of the world, so there are people over there who aren’t
interested in it either. Their reasons are different, but their goal is the
same. Kill Heymann and shut down any possibility of diplomatic relations for
the foreseeable future.”
“What
people?”
“Mostly
military,” he said. “Army, Air Force, Marine Corps. Some Navy. Gung-ho
types. They think their way back home will be through military force and
that diplomatic relations will only compromise that, make their position
weaker.”
“Clay
is Army.” I said.
He
shook his head. “Clay may think that way, but he’s no danger to Heymann. For
this to succeed, it has to be definitively linked to either vampires or the
Resistance. If Clay drops the hammer on Heymann, everybody loses.” He
paused. “And he’d have a hard time pinning it on anybody else, or even
surviving the attempt. I take it you met that little bitch they’ve got with
them.”
“Anna
Thodberg?”
“That’s
her,” he said. “She’s a nasty little piece of work. Killed an immigration
officer in New York. Not twenty minutes off the boat. He wanted to do a body
search, she wasn’t interested, he insisted and tried to do it anyway. She
killed him. Punched right through his sternum and ripped his heart out. Fast
as a fucking snake strike. Just in and out. Then took a big bite out of the
heart, spit it out, dropped the heart, and laughed.” He shook his head.
“What a fucking scene that was. Guns pointing, people yelling. Crazy shit,
old buddy.”
“She
didn’t share that incident with me.” Though she had said that she wouldn’t
accept a human laying hands on her. I guess she was serious. “But why would
she care if Clay killed the ambassador. She doesn’t even like
Heymann.”
“Like
doesn’t enter into it,” he said. “You think Clay would let her live?” He
shook his head. “Clay’s no threat, whatever he believes. Neither is the
Resistance. Normal relations with other countries makes things easier for
them. They can exchange information through back-alley channels, maybe even
get a little material aid if things work out. They’re not going to fuck that
up by killing the man who can make it happen.”