Shadow Knight's Mate (41 page)

Rachel started to tell Jack what had happened, but somehow he knew about the American president's change of heart. “Something else is going to happen,” he said quickly. Obviously Jack was running as he talked. “Something to make it look like the president was right to leave. Some plot—”

“Jack, this is the most thoroughly checked-out site on earth. Unless there's a missile strike on the way, there's no way—”

“Then it's something else. Bruno said he had back-ups, and I believe him.”

“Bruno? From school?”

Rachel looked at Arden as she talked. Arden appeared unsurprised by anything.

After a quick explanation, Jack said, “I'll be there as fast as I can. We've got—”

“No!” Rachel and Arden said simultaneously. Rachel stared at the girl again. Either she had extraordinary hearing or she could read minds. Either way, it seemed useless to try to keep the conversation from her. Rachel eased the phone away from her head so they could both hear.

Then she told Jack, “You're still extremely
persona non wanted
around here. If you rush over here now, it will look like
you're
the security threat the president was warned about.”

“Damn.” Miles away, Jack skidded to a halt. When Rachel said something, he believed it instantly. There had been times in the past when he had failed to believe her, and he regretted nearly all of them now. “Then what can I—?” he looked around helplessly. “Where's Arden?” he muttered. “Bruno thought she'd be here. Maybe if I could—”

“She's here,” Rachel said quietly. Into the phone's speaker Arden said, “Hello, Jack,” very softly. Then all three were silent for a moment. Arden cleared her throat, about to say something like,
I'm glad you got away,
but knew before she said it how lame it would be. The other two heard what she'd thought about saying and knew the same thing.

After a long moment Jack's voice said from the phone's speaker, “All right. Rachel, there's something lethal there. You have to find it, stop it, and leave no sign that there was ever any danger.”

Rachel's eyes swept the square. There was activity everywhere now, people moving, speaking, with dozens of security agents watching everything better than she possibly could. “Okay,” she said slowly, “and you can offer me—”

“I don't have a clue.”

Arden chimed in, “He's not good with people. Bruno, I mean. It couldn't be someone he's induced to do something. It must be a machine.”

“He was pretty good with you,” Jack said, with some bitterness, but it sounded feigned to Rachel. She looked again at the girl, in a different appraising kind of way.

“I never really—”

“Oh, right, you never bought into his—”

“Really I didn't, Jack. I just wanted to find out what he was—”

“Sure. Arden the spy. And you didn't bother to tell me what I was walking into because that would have…”

Their bickering sounded familiar to Rachel. And it gave her an idea. Speaking of Bruno, she said, “He's good with the
excluded.”

“And orphans,” Arden chimed in.

Jack had fallen silent.

“Outcasts,” Arden and Rachel said together, beginning to look around the square again. But how, out of all these people, could they spot the person Bruno had planted here?

“What? What?” Jack was saying into his phone. He felt very excluded himself.

A block away from him, those below-ground elevator doors opened again. A battered figure, stripped of mechanical arms and legs, crawled out into the alley. Then he fell onto his back and lay there, breathing in the free air.

“Give me a hint, Jack,” Rachel said into her phone. She and Arden were standing shoulder to shoulder, slowly turning in a circle, taking in everyone. “By land or sea or air? A bomb, you think? I'm telling you, there can't be anything on or under that stage. It's been checked so thoroughly, and I sealed off underground access to it myself. If there's another killer plane on the way, surely the Air Force will give us some warning. Besides, if it's one of these people, Jack there are too many. We can't possibly—”

Wait, wait. Jack ducked his head, pinched the bridge of his nose, and thought. How, from miles away, could he stop a plan that Bruno had been brooding over for years? And do it so efficiently and quietly no one would ever know there had been a problem?

Because that was the way the Circle operated. More smoothly than the most accomplished magician. They vanished not only the lady but themselves, and any memory that there had even been a performance.

There was nothing. He had nothing. Bruno had too many back-ups. Someone there was either under his influence or perhaps even acting on a post-hypnotic suggestion, that would be triggered by an event bound to occur at the summit, such as the playing of
a certain national anthem. But if Rachel and Arden disturbed the ceremonies, the president could use that to spin his retreat. And Jack wanted that retreat to have no justification at all, to be an utter whimpering flight in panic.

Well, maybe he couldn't have everything he wanted. “Arden,” he said resignedly, about to tell her maybe to try to stop the band, or something else to disrupt the ceremonies.

Then he stopped. “What is it, Jack?” Rachel's voice crackled out of his cell phone.

“Arden,” he said again, then more forcefully: “You're not supposed to be there, Arden. Bruno thought you'd be here. He wasn't sure he had you completely, but he damned sure thought he could predict you well enough to know you'd come in with me. In fact, maybe he never thought he'd turned you at all. Maybe he was convinced of your secret loyalty to me. So he counted on your being here.” Jack's mind was spinning wildly now. He thought he understood Bruno. Bruno would never have confidence in any other human being; his face had told Jack that. He had manipulated Arden, yes, but how? Toward what end?

He started talking again. “There are only two ‘seats of power'—thank you, Arden—in this town. He wanted you to be here. That means—”

“He didn't want me to be here,” Arden said. She looked around wonderingly. “But why not? What could I possibly—? Oh my God.”

She was staring at that executive secretary, as the woman turned to look out over the crowd. Her eyes didn't settle on Arden, but Arden got a good look at her for the first time.

“Orphans,” she muttered. “Outcasts.”

Arden was staring across the compound. She and Rachel were on a small rise, so they could see over the heads of the milling reporters, civilians, and security people. The middle-aged secretary from the American crowd was moving toward the stage. Her posture had changed. She no longer looked frumpy, or aged. She stood very straight, staring at the presidents on the stage. Her hands clenched and unclenched.

“There was something familiar about her,” Rachel muttered.

“Because you've met me,” Arden answered dreamily. “It's my mother.”

Arden swayed as she stood. She couldn't have been more stunned if a meteor had landed on her. She hadn't seen her mother in years, but she knew this was she. Her young, slender, always a little frantic mother had turned into this slightly overweight, competent-looking professional. She had come to resemble her own mother, Gladys Leaphorn, the Chair of the Circle.

The group from which Arden's mother had been excluded her whole life.

Arden hadn't realized it at the time, but her mother Alice had spent years on the run trying to fill the craving she could never satisfy, the craving to belong, to be part of something important. Maybe she didn't know the whole truth, but she felt its loss. Somehow Bruno had figured this out and had gotten to Alice. Arden knew it. He had tried to get to Arden, and had to a certain extent, but she had been prepared for him. Granny had rescued her from her feelings of being left out. She was not such easy prey for Bruno Benjamin as he had thought. But her mother had been.

The woman was no longer staring at the stage. She was moving purposefully, in her efficient executive secretary mode.

“They'll stop her,” Arden whispered. “They won't let her get near—”

“It doesn't matter if they stop her!” Jack yelled into the phone. “If she looks like a legitimate assassin the president can say he knew about her. This is why he left. Rachel, there can't be any disturbance! Do you understand?”

Rachel had an inkling of what Jack meant, but more to the point she took him at his word no matter what.

“All right, Jack, but what do you want me to do?” Rachel just stared as the woman started to make her way toward the side of the stage. She was harmless enough anyway. What was she going to do, stab someone with an earring? There was nothing remotely dangerous on that stage. Even the microphones were wireless. Rachel and all the other security forces had made sure
there couldn't be even an improvised weapon—

Rachel gasped. Oh, she was an idiot.

There was one new thing on that stage. One thing that hadn't been checked out by anybody. It was deep blue with yellow fringe, and it featured an eagle with a very determined expression.

“Damn it! I'm the fool,” Rachel said, as the other two questioned her. For a moment Rachel wondered if she herself was under the influence of a post-hypnotic suggestion. But no, if she hadn't placed the seal the executive secretary would have. Arden's mother. Because she was a deeply-imbedded, probably longstanding functionary of the American diplomatic contingent. Which is why no one would question her now as she walked across that stage. Probably just wanted to straighten the seal, the guards would think. Or remove it. What harm could she be?

But Rachel understood. The seal was flammable. Maybe even explosive. And the woman must have a detonator, or simply a book of matches. She was up on the side of the stage now. In seconds she would be there. Maybe she was close enough already.

Rachel saw standing nearby sharpshooters who could take the woman down from here. And at least two of them would do it at a word from Rachel. She had developed that much trust in the last few days. But then everything would be shattered. The woman's body would be examined, then the seal. The plot would be uncovered, the plot that could have destroyed seven heads of state. And the American president would be able to say he'd been warned about it in advance. His not being here would be explained. And Jack didn't want that. She wasn't sure why, but she believed him.

Rachel stood frozen. Arden stared at her mother. She must not have seen her in years. Rachel glanced at her, then back to the woman on the stage. Her eyes widened. Her frustration peaked. Rachel took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Then she screamed.

Rachel was not a screamer. She seldom even raised her voice. She was known among her friends, in fact, for her repression. A raised eyebrow on Rachel's face was the equivalent of someone
else's launching into a shouting tirade. People cringed at her mutter.

So perhaps this had been building in her for a long time. Because this was a world-class scream. It froze everyone around her, raising hairs on arms and the backs of necks. Everyone turned and stared. And because Rachel and Arden were on that slight rise, everyone saw her.

Jack heard the scream clearly through his cell phone and wondered if his old friend had lost her mind. The tension had made her snap. He started saying, “Rachel, when I said you can't disrupt the ceremonies, what I meant was—,” but no one was listening to him.

With everyone staring, and hands reaching for guns, Rachel said quietly to Arden, “Don't look at me. Look at her.”

Arden understood. She stood straight, as if in a spotlight, and stared across that crowded square at the woman who was now on the stage.

The woman stared back.

Rachel began stamping her feet. “Bugs,” she said loudly. “Is it an ant bed? No.” She reached down and picked up a small, befuddled lizard, holding it high, then tossing it away. “Yuck,” she said, shivered all over, and indulged in other such girlish behaviors, things she had never done in her life. She was brushing off her clothing, looking distressed. More than one man started toward her aid. Guns were eased back into holsters. Eyes rolled. Hand signals told security personnel everything was okay. Just a silly girl overreacting to local reptilian life. A few people chuckled. That was the most notice Rachel's scream would draw. It was the kind of small, foolish event that seemed enormous for a few seconds, but wouldn't be reported by any news outlet. Rachel quickly slipped out of sight in the crowd. Within minutes, no one would even be able to say who had screamed.

So Arden stood alone on the rise, with no one looking at her any more. No one except that woman on the stage. Their eyes remained locked. The woman put her fist to her mouth. Her eyes watered. Arden lifted one pale hand in greeting to her and the
woman forgot everything else she'd been doing or planning. She hurried down from the stage and into the crowd.