Turnabout

parents already.» «What?» The image of the plane shifted and stretched, as if Isabel's mental image of it was fracturing. As Jesse filled Isabel in on the day's events, she saw Kyle watching from the back of the cabin. He was frowning. Jesse told her about the abductions that had just taken place in Roswell, his own harrowing close call in Boston, about Valenti and Brody and about the plan Phillip Evans had put in place in case of this very emergency. «It's the only way, Isabel.» ''Outing' us to the world? Seems pretty extreme.» «These are extreme times. Your father understands that. That's why he planned for this eventuality.» She sighed. «So much for any chance we might have had for a normal life once the world hears that Max and Michael and I are aliens. People will freak out from coast to coast. They'll come after us with torches and pitchforks.» Jesse smiled slightly. «Don't be so sure about that, Isabel. How many people do you think will really believe you're from another planet? If America 'freaks out,' then the government will get the worst of it. When people look at you, they'll see a bunch of kids being victimized by an out-of-control agency. Those torches and pitchforks will be for the Special Unit.» Isabel decided to table that issue for the moment. «How were you able to take a private plane?» she asked. «Brody paid for it. He's loaded, Isabel.» At that moment, Isabel made a decision, though she was aware that probably it was exactly the wrong decision. But it was hers to make. «Land in Chicago, Jesse. We'll be there in less than an hour. Kyle and I will come with you to Los Angeles.» Jesse's eyebrows pulled together. «Seriously?» «Seriously.» Isabel saw Kyle's eyes bugging out. He was obviously privy to the conversation. She stared at him for a moment, willing him to stay silent. He seemed to take the hint, or perhaps he didn't want to risk overstraining his new ability by injecting his own thoughts across the mental connection he'd forged between her and Jesse. Still, the look in his eyes asked a clear question: Are you crazy? After all, Liz had had several future flashes of Special Unit doctors slicing her open like a trout. Jesse nodded, and she forced thoughts of Liz's premonitions aside. «Okay,' he said. «I'll meet you in the Windy City.» «I'll find you, Jesse.» He looked wounded. «You have to go now?» She nodded. «I don't want to put too much strain on Kyle's new power. But I'll see you soon. I love you.» «I love you too, baby,' Jesse said. And then, Isabel was back in the train's car, staring at a very annoyed Kyle. «What are you thinking!» Kyle asked. «You know that if we go to California, you run the risk that Liz's premonition will come true.» «I know,' Isabel said. «But I don't want Jesse to know about that.» She gave him a severe look. «I'm serious, Kyle. He doesn't hear about it. At least not until we rejoin the others.» «I think this is a very bad idea,' Kyle said. Isabel nodded, then let out a heavy sigh. «Yeah, it probably is. But maybe we've already altered the present enough so that the future Liz saw can't happen.» Kyle lapsed into silence for a moment. «Do you really think this idea that your dad put together to 'out' you guys and the Special Unit will work? It sounds awfully iffy.» «I'm not sure I like it either,' Isabel said, waving her hand to one side. «But if we're all together in California, with the resources to make that choice if we need to, then maybe we'll find another option instead.» She brightened for a moment, and placed her hand atop his again. «Hey, there's one good thing about this. Your powers worked pretty well this time.» Kyle snorted. «What exactly are these powers? I don't really have a clue.» «Looks to me like some kind of third-party telepathy thing, except when it comes to those of us who already have powers,' Isabel said. «You seem to be amplifying my powers, for instance. I can dreamwalk people when they're asleep, but I think you enabled me to do it while Jesse was awake.» She paused and thought for a moment. «Maybe you're like a psychic road for normal people, but a superhighway for aliens?» «Great,' Kyle said, his voice lacking any trace of enthusiasm. «You know, when we took those aptitude tests in high school, I knew there was a reason that I scored so well on the 'psychic highway construction worker'job category.» «Hey, at least it's better than the 'alien-hunting government agent' job,' Isabel said. They both laughed, but she thought she heard a brittle edge behind their mirth. Jesse made his way to the pilot's cabin of the private jet. He tapped the pilot and copilot on the shoulders. «We need to go back and land in Chicago.» The pilot looked at him as if he had grown a second head. «What? We're already almost to Colorado.» «That's why I said we need to go back» Jesse said firmly. «We have two more people to pick up there.» «Why didn't you tell us earlier?» the copilot asked. «I didn't know earlier,' Jesse said. «Look, you guys are making some good money on this trip. Just accept that this will make your paycheck even bigger, okay?» «You're the boss,' the pilot said, giving him a mock salute. Jesse made his way into the back seating area again. Shelby looked up and saw him. «What was all that about?» she asked. «We're going back to Chicago,' Jesse said. «My wife and Kyle Valenti are on their way there now. We're taking them to California with us.» Shelby raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue. Jesse sat back in his seat and smiled to himself. After the stress of the last day or so, it would be heavenly to see Isabel again. With her by his side, he was sure that everything was going to work out for the best. 9. City of Industry, California Wight was falling quickly, and Rath was grateful for its concealing shadows. The building he and Lonnie stood before was old, industrial, and had obviously seen better times. Rath thought its best days were probably decades behind it, when it had probably been some sort of factory or cannery. Strangely enough, the crumbling, peeling, three-story edifice was located right in the heart of the aptly named City of Industry just outside of Los Angeles proper along 5 Freeway. As far as he could tell from the outside, the place was abandoned. If the place had ever been equipped with obvious external security cameras or entry keypads, they had been pilfered long ago. Leave it to the MiBs to be sneaky enough to hide their crazy Dr. Evil headquarters right out in plain sight, Rath thought. But this is definitely the place. He wasn't quite sure exactly how he knew that. But he did, and with a conviction he'd never known before. He would have staked his life on it, and supposed that he might already have done so. Lonnie crouched beside Rath in the narrow alley as he peered through the basement-level window. His view was obscured by the iron bars that covered the low window frame, the grime on the panes, and the impenetrable darkness that lay beyond both. «The bad guys might be watching us,' she whispered, her breath warm and pleasant against his ear. «They can hide their spy cameras just about anywhere.» Rath nodded silently, then turned to face her. «Maybe they can't watch every little crack we find in their armor,' he said with a shrug. «Maybe they're not expecting us to try something like this.» «Maybe,' she said, sounding unconvinced. Rath noticed, however, that she wasn't making any move to back away from what they'd decided they had to do. Perhaps the fact that they had used their shapeshifting abilities to darken their hair and alter their clothing to something more MiB-appropriate had bolstered her confidence. Lonnie suddenly put her arm around him and drew him into a moist, languid kiss. «For luck,' she said after coming up for air. He smiled wryly as he pushed her gently away. «Let's focus. And try not to start anything we don't have time to finish.» Then he turned his attention back to the window, straining once again to see what lay beyond it. He might as well have been staring into a coal mine at midnight. If we had any brains at all, we'd run like hell and forget all about trying to bust Ava out. With nearly as much conviction as he'd felt that he'd found the place where the MiBs had taken Ava, a small, still voice in the back of his mind whispered, This is a trap. But his need to find Ava, to reassemble the East Coast Royal Four as completely as was possible after Zan's death, won out. Almost of its own volition, Rath's right hand came up. His palm immediately began glowing cherry red, and he placed it against one of the bars, melting it into semiliquid goo. Lonnie silently did likewise, as though reading his mind. Within seconds, the bars melted like butter and began to liquefy. The beads of molten metal scattered away from their skin, propelled by the waves of force being channeled through their minds and fingers. A few moments later, the window itself had gone the way of the iron bars. An entry into the dark unknown yawned before them, beckoning. We're coming for you, Ava, Rath thought, disregarding the alarms that were sounding in his hindbrain. Hang in there, Queenie. The general of the Armies ofAntar is riding to the rescue. Rath let himself down into the basement window first, then helped Lonnie lower herself to the floor. Rath took her hand, cautiously advancing into the darkness until his eyes began to adjust. The dark basement seemed filled with odd shapes that suggested broken, discarded factory equipment to Rath. Soon they reached the far wall, which lay some thirty feet from their improvised entryway. Feeling along the far wall in the shadows, his left hand fell upon a doorknob. Locked. He smiled, then channeled some of his power into his hand. The knob fell away onto the concrete floor with a dull clunk, and the door slowly swung open, letting in light from the other side. «Here goes,' he said, then stepped across the threshold into the light. Margolin made sure once again that his protective skullcap hadn't slipped. He watched the surveillance room monitor in silence, as did a half-dozen other dark-suited agents, all of whom were outfitted with psi-protective headgear. «I've really got to hand it to you, Viceroy,' said Bartolli, who stood at Margolin's side, also clad in a foil cap. «This was a brilliant idea the crazy party hats notwithstanding.» «The fugitives have entered the central corridor,' one of the agents reported unnecessarily, her hand on her headset. Margolin smiled, pleased to have reminded the ambitious Bartolli yet again why he, Viceroy, was the one charged with running the Special Unit. On the monitor, the Guerin boy and Isabel Evans or perhaps the duplicates that the interrogation team in Elk, New Mexico, had reported were striding with apparent impunity down a well-lit, carpeted corridor. They're getting close, Margolin thought, determined that none of his quarry would elude him this time. «Gotta give them credit for being confident,' Bartolli said, watching the screen as he idly played with the long, wicked-looking knife he had carried ever since his Navy SEAL days back in the 1980s. Margolin chuckled. «The credit belongs to the Harding girl, now that we've tapered off her