Sons (Book 2) (42 page)

Small balloons of disappointment appeared in several auras of our assistants and one bloom of satisfaction from Jimmy—he didn’t like her—when everyone but her realized she disqualified herself from consideration.  She trundled on for a couple of minutes longer discussing her reasonably impressive education, knowing she’d made a mistake somewhere but not recognizing exactly where.  That in itself bothered me enough to say no again, or at least with more emphasis.

Mike was the bearer of the bad news.  “Miss Osbourne, while you have some impressive credentials, we’re looking for people a slightly broader range of abilities at the moment.”

“It’s likely that we’ll have need of someone with your qualifications in the near future for other positions, though,” Peter said to mollify the situation.  “We’ll keep your resume for future consideration in case you’re available at that time.”

“Yes, thank you for your time, Miss Osbourne,” Kieran said, standing and reaching out to shake her hand.  We all followed suit, anxious to close the interview and move on.

“I believe we promised travel compensation,” Mike said, pulling several bills from the back of his notebook.  “Will a thousand cover your expenses?”

“Oh, no, please, that won’t be necessary,” she said as she stood and collected her things.  She was both highly disappointed and surprised about the depth of that feeling.  “I’m visiting friends in the city as well, so I would feel wrong taking your money.”

“I’ll walk you to the elevators, Cate,” David offered, leading her through the small maze of people.

“I’ll go with you,” I said, and when David turned and gave me a questioning look, “We don’t go anywhere alone right now.”  Jimmy made moves to follow as I shuffled past, but a glower from me stopped him in his tracks.  The room was quiet as we left and the walk down the hall was equally morose.  I let the distance between them and me increase slowly, trying to give them some privacy, unsure what their previous relationship was, but they stayed quiet until the concierge’s lounge appeared.  The elevators were hidden on the other side of the desk.  I stayed at the entrance to the lounge, looking inside but aware of the halls around us.

“It was the fetching coffee thing, wasn’t it?” she asked David quietly, turning to him and scanning down the hall to me peeking into the lounge.  I doubt she thought I could hear or knew I saw her looking.

David chuckled slightly and said, “That may have been the straw, but the camel was already heavily burdened, Cate, dear, but it was a valiant effort to recover.  I’ll give you that.”

“It certainly wasn’t like any other interview I’ve had,” she said.  “Do they always act that way?”

“I couldn’t really say.  I’ve only been with them a day.  They’re certainly a happy group of men, powerful from what I’ve seen, and fiercely loyal to each other, and especially to him.  And if even a tenth of what I was told last night is true—and so far I have no reason to disbelieve them—then they all have cause to be.  Considering the day they’ve had, I’m surprised they weren’t crabby as hell, really, especially Seth and his father.”

“What happened?” she asked, intrigued.

David smiled.  “The short story is that everyone was in a fight for their lives today and they were attacked twice.  The specifics are probably confidential just yet, but if that’s how they blow off steam…?”  He shrugged and let the question hang.  “Anyway, Caitlin, better luck next time, but a word of advice: when you go home, put some of those contacts you mentioned to good use and find out what’s going on in the world right now.  I think you’ll be surprised to find out exactly how much of what they said today is true.  Steve certainly was.  Safe trip, now.”

“Good-bye, then, David, and thank you,” Caitlin Osbourne said, as they hugged the quick hug of old acquaintances.  She glanced down the hallway at me and gave me a polite smile and wave before disappearing into the elevator alcove.   David paused for a moment then headed back toward me, shaking his head as he came.

Stopping when he came up to me, he asked, “It was the fetching coffee thing, wasn’t it?”

“I think that was Mike’s last straw, but she lost Ethan and Kieran well before that,” I said, turning back to the suite.

“I’ll never understand that girl,” he muttered as we walked back down the hall, passing a businessman with a suitcase in hand.  “Who avoids answering a job interview question three times?”

“It seemed like mostly a good answer when she got around to it,” I said.  “It’s too bad, though.  She looked good on paper.”

“Hmm.  I thought she looked pretty damn good in person, too,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder as if he could see her again.  “May I ask a personal question?”

“Sure, whatcha got?” I said as we turned down the last hall to our suite.

“You do like girls, right?” he asked.  “Because some of the things that Mike and Richard said last night led me to think Peter was gay and I didn’t want to say the wrong thing and you guys are so close that it can get difficult to figure out the dynamics of your relationships.”

“Yes, I like girls,” I said, answering his question with amusement in my voice.  “Not that I have the time to date right now and it’s not like they’re lined up at the curb waiting for me either.”

“Fah-ha,” he guffawed.  “They will be soon enough, as soon as your financials hit or your reputation as a scary bastard settles down some.”

Creating a quick jump through the door, I chuckled a little, saying, “Neither is likely then.  I’m likely to be a ‘scary bastard’ for a while and we’re hidden behind a few dozen shunts and blinds financially.”

“Trust me,” David said, pausing at the door and stifling a giggle.  “Women have a way of knowing.” 

“No, Colonel, he won’t like that at all,” Mike said as I closed the portal behind me.  He leaned against the desk in clear line of sight of the door and away from the noisy carousing that was occurring at the center of the room.  He looked at me and rolled his eyes back, shaking his head at my questioning look.  “Isn’t he already making enough concessions with the military as it is?  Demanding more isn’t going to make this situation better.  And seriously, demanding?  Didn’t you learn anything this morning?”

David recovered his position on the couch while I lingered near Mike, listening to the conversation.  Colonel Echols told Mike that his superiors were demanding a meeting between them and us before they’d agree to him as a liaison.  That was highly suspicious to me and Mike was right, I didn’t like it at all.  Poking a hole in space, I looked into the camp at Yaeger’s farm and searched the Colonel out, finding him in the command tent opposite Messner at the table where I’d left them.  Calhoun wasn’t there, so I assumed he was getting some much-needed sleep.  Messner still needed more, himself. 

Messner shook his head at Echols as he cheerfully lied to Mike on the phone, winding and unwinding his dog tags on his finger subconsciously as he spoke.  Closing the hole, I looked over and called quietly, “Hey, Pete, wanna have a little fun?”

He grinned and scampered around our fathers and I motioned to Mike to keep him talking.  Then I moved both of us back to Alabama.

“Look, Ferrin, just tell the kid,” Echols said.  “Let him decide for himself then call me back.”  He snapped his cell phone shut, dropping it to the table lazily.

Messner saw us appear behind him and dropped his head to the table with a loud thwack and a sigh.  “You really have no idea who you’re dealing with.  Didn’t you learn anything from this morning?”

“Only that the kid’s got control issues,” Echols said, lacing his hands together and cradling his head to lean back in his chair.  He was precariously perched there with only his feet on the table to hold himself steady, his eyes on Messner.  “Besides, they’re in New York right now.”

“No,” Messner said.  “Actually, they’re right behind you.”

Peter kicked the chair out from under Echols and he came crashing to the ground before he even had the time to process Messner’s warning.

“Oh, yeah!” shouted Peter in triumph as the chair clattered into others nearby and Echols slammed into the dirt floor, knocking his breath away and dazing him momentarily.  Three of us enjoyed a laugh at his misfortune, Messner maybe a little more than us.  It was a minor payback but fun nonetheless.  We hopped up on the table and sat quietly while Echols recovered and stood.

Angry amusement isn’t exactly a simple emotion to show, but I think we managed.  “Agent Messner, would you be so kind as to inform the Pentagon that Colonel Echols is no longer a viable candidate as a liaison and suggest that they find another soon?”

“Certainly, Mr. McClure,” Messner said politely.

“What?  Why?” Echols cried, rubbing the back of his head still.

“He really didn’t learn anything, did he?” Peter said to me.

“Apparently it takes more than a couple of knocks in the head,” I told him, grinning.  “You hold him down and I’ll get the croquet mallet.”

“You’re not helping,” Messner said.

“Not trying to,” I said curtly.  “He’s lied to me, cajoled, demeaned, and demanded of me, all in a ten minute conversation.  After being told what a bad idea it was in the first place.  Excuse me,
while
being told it was a bad idea.”

“I haven’t lied to you or demeaned you or…” he stuttered and flustered, unsure of what he was denying and why.  Both Peter and I crossed our arms on our chests and stared at him.

“Colonel,” Messner said, “I’ve been trying to explain this to you but you haven’t been listening to me.”

“I listened.  I just don’t agree with you,” Echols argued.

“You don’t agree that lying to my representative is the same as lying to me?  How do you decide that?” I asked.

“When did I lie to your representative?” Echols tried, but even he knew that futility there.  “Wait, I’m sorry, I understand that part, but what was the lie?  I didn’t lie about anything and I wasn’t demeaning or anything.”

“No, not at all, you merely called a King of Faery a kid and demanded a meeting with him and lied about the circumstances around it,” Messner snapped.  “Were you listening at all during your M-levels?  Idiot.”

“What he said,” Peter quipped, pointing at Messner.

“Been a rather disappointing hour, hasn’t it?” I asked Peter, blithely ignoring Echols.

“Yes, it has,” Peter agreed.  “We should have dinner before I check in with Dillon.  That way we won’t be getting three in a row.”

“There’s got to be some way I can make amends for this,” Echols pleaded.

“By the same token, we aren’t really expecting Dillon to come through so it wouldn’t be much of a disappointment,” I reasoned, glancing over at Echols disdainfully.

“That’s true,” Peter agreed, knowing I was just dragging Echols’ torture out.  “Maybe we should see what everyone else wants to do first.  I know a bistro in Milan that serves a fantastic
bolognese
.”

“That’s a thought,” I agreed, but only a thought since none of us knew how to get to Milan yet, except maybe by plane, train, or automobile.  Echols didn’t mind lying to me so why should I be bothered about lying to him?

A brightness and shadow across the door caught our attention as Calhoun pushed his way into the tent.  Seeing Peter and me sitting on the table and Echols standing and flustered, he drew the obvious conclusion.

“What’s the idiot done now?” he asked as tiredly as he looked.

“Lied to Mike, trying to bully and badger us into a meeting with his bosses,” Peter said before Echols could say anything.  Wisely for the first time, Echols kept his mouth shut.

“Well, then, ‘idiot’ about sums it up,” Calhoun said, nodding and glaring at Echols.  Turning to Messner, he asked, “And you couldn’t stop him?”  Messner pantomimed uselessness.  We all understood.

“So what did he do to you?” Calhoun asked Echols.

“Knocked me out of my chair when I wasn’t looking.  Didn’t even know they were there.  Don’t even know that one,” he said almost whining and pointing at Peter.

“Well, maybe when you grow up a little more, Mr. McClure will introduce you to his ā-dult friends,” Calhoun chastised, causing a chorus of snickers.  “How do we fix this?”

“The Pentagon gets a new liaison,” I said calmly.  “That would be the simplest way, providing, of course, that he has been cooperating with the two of you.  Otherwise, the Pentagon needs a new colonel, too.”

“He threatened me!” Echols protested.

“Twice,” I said.  “And assaulted you twice as well.  No, wait, Calhoun had the first one.  Would you like to try to do something about it?”

“Seth, please,” Calhoun said softly, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly.

“What?  I’m just trying to communicate with him on a level he can understand,” I said.

“Third grade seems about right,” Peter agreed. 

“What can we do to fix this,” Calhoun said again.  “Hopefully without replacing Colonel Echols so that we don’t have to continue with these frustrating little power plays.”

The edge to Glen Calhoun’s voice just seriously irked me then.  I stared at him for a moment, the steam building behind my eyes.  I’d already been through this several times, with Harris, Ferrin, Messner, and a few others.  It was tiring and frustrating and repetitive, but I was too young and unknown to be completely free of it.  Frankly, though, it was time for a break.  On Thursday, I’d have to do a hell of a lot of it, but today, I was just too damned tired of it.

“You’re right, Glen.  It is a power play,” I said after a moment.  “I’m just as tired of it as you are, but I didn’t make this play.  Colonel Echols did.  It’s up to him to find a way to change my mind.  We will be unavailable until after the Emissaries Meeting.  You have until then, Colonel.  That is your job as a liaison, to be the channel by which our two sides work together.  Find a way to make me believe you want that.”

I jumped back to New York, aggravated, but Peter stayed.  Not willing to leave him alone, I poked another small hole and watched just to make sure he was okay.  I had to pull the hole back and away to get a decent view.  Echols was busy cursing his luck while Peter watched.

Calhoun sighed, running a hand through his short-cut hair in frustration.  “That could have gone better,” he said.  “Any ideas?”

“Yeah, get a new liaison,” Messner said.  “How many times did we warn you about calling him a ‘kid’ where he could hear?”

“Oh, you didn’t,” Peter said, half-laughing and half-shocked.  “You’re a goner, dude.  Last guy to do that?  Seth killed his car, a limo.  He was about to slice it into pieces but a busload of rescue workers came up so he tossed it thirty feet away into a ditch.  Get a new liaison.”

Calhoun hit him.  Hard.  “You idiot!” he yelled, as Echols followed the path his chair previously went, creating a hellish racket of clattering metal.  Echols came up in a fighting stance, ready to swing and bleeding from his nose and both split lips.  He didn’t charge, though.  Calhoun beat the table with both fists with manic frustration three times before settling down.

“Yep, that’s pretty much how Seth was feeling,” Peter said calmly.

“What is so God-damned special about this k—” Echols grabbed his throat, choking and gasping, unable to speak, breathe, or pass anything down his throat.

Peter hopped down off the table and walked around to Echols.  Snapping his fingers dramatically as Echols breathed in, gasping hard and heaving.  “Have I got your attention now?” Peter asked and he nodded weakly, falling back into one of the few remaining upright chairs.  “Good, then let’s get a few things straight very quickly.  First, that ‘kid’ has done more for this world than you have done for your wife.  Well before he became Lord Daybreak, his power stopped the earthquake that saved all of Europe, the northern coast of Africa and the East Coast of the United States.  Stopped an Earthquake.  Him.  For that alone, he deserves your respect.  And he has done and is doing more.  If I or any of my brothers hear you call him a ‘kid’ again, we will rip out your heart, liver, and kidneys and put them in your hands so that you can watch them die as you do.  Am I making myself clear to you?”

Damn.  Peter could say some vicious things when you pissed him off.  Reminded me of that note he left in my room… Ugh.  Bad thoughts.  Think roses and kittens and puppies.  Nope, needed some new images there.

“Second,” Peter continued.  “He is the Lord of a Realm.  When he sends a representative to anyone, they speak in his name.  That might not mean much in your world, but it means much in ours.  Words have power in our world as much as actions and we do not bandy declarations casually nor do we break our promises.  So when you speak to his representative, you speak to him as well.  Make no mistake about that.  Mike didn’t go running to snitch on you; Seth heard, just as clearly as he’s likely hearing this.

“And finally, stop trying to play us,” Peter said, sweeping his arms back to include Calhoun and Messner.  “You can’t figure out how we know even when it’s written all over you.”  Peter hopped up on the table again, a little more calm and releasing Echols’ attention.  Echols managed to get his breathing under control and now had a respectful fear of Peter, barely managing not to glare hatefully.  For a full two minutes, the only sound inside the tent was breathing.

Messner broke the silence.  “Now that everyone has calmed down, any ideas on salvaging this situation?  I presume that you do, Mr. Borland, otherwise you would not have stayed.”

“Why would you assume that, Agent Messner?” Peter asked, quickly and briefly waving his hand in the air as if holding a pen.  “Why wouldn’t I be here to spy?  Or even more likely, to check in with you?  Just because he ticked Seth off doesn’t mean that Seth was here to get ticked off.”  Messner placed a pen on top of a fresh pad and gently pushed it across to Peter.

“What’s going on with the camp?” Peter asked Calhoun.

“I can answer that,” Echols interrupted.

“I’m sure you can, Colonel, and when I decide to ask you a question, you’ll know,” Peter said archly.  “Marshal?”

“Right now, we’re close to running out of food,” Calhoun said, pulling up a chair and sitting at the table.  “The current water supply is sufficient to supply drinking water, but is proving insufficient for other services.  Infestation and vermin are putting laundering services on the ‘requirements’ list.  And evacuation appears to be taking a little longer than expected.  In short, it’s getting a bit grim.”

“So three different heavily funded government organizations couldn’t come up with some cash to feed some prisoners?” Peter asked scornfully.  “Don’t look at me that way!  All three of you are ‘Black Ops’ and you know it.  It’s nothing for any of you to sign a ten thousand dollar check for green bowties if it meant some secret recipe for nougat or something.”

“Yeah, well, I do have a boss I have to explain things to,” Calhoun said patiently.  “He has to give me the checks to sign first.”  Messner and Echols made similar motions of agreement.

“And let me guess, now that there’s credit to share, there is also argument about who should foot the bills,” Peter sneered.