“Doesn’t feel like it,” I said honestly.
“Anyone can be ambushed. It’s the nature of war.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“No,” he agreed. He adjusted his glasses. “However, if the call you received is good intel then it’s probably a game changer.”
“You know, Boss,” I said, “I listened to the tapes of your conversation with Deep Throat, and Toys isn’t the guy who has been calling you.”
“Same anti-trace technology, though.”
“Yeah, which brings up its own set of questions. If Toys and Gault are part of the Kings organization, then can we continue to believe that Deep Throat is
Church nodded. “I’ve been giving that considerable thought, Captain, and I tend to agree with you. Either he’s a mole who shares his phone with another mole or we’re not seeing a conflict between organizations. I think this is an internal matter.”
“Which explains why Deep Throat was so cagey about giving you much information.”
“Yes. If two groups within the Kings are pursuing different agendas, or—more likely—if two operations within their organization have come into conflict with one another, then using the DMS to injure the other party can be viewed as a clever strategic move.”
“It’s pretty damn devious.”
He spread his hands. “Secret society.”
“Yeah, okay, but what does that mean? Are Deep Throat and Toys calling from different ends of the playground? Or are they working together?”
“Impossible to tell at this point. What would your guess be?”
“My gut tells me that they’re on the same side.”
He nodded.
“But,” I added, “considering that we
“I don’t intend to.”
“Toys said that the Kings had agents among the people I trust, and among the people we have to rescue.”
“Feeling paranoid?”
“Yep.”
“Welcome to my world. I’ve long considered paranoia to be a job requirement.”
“Is there anyone in our ranks we should be looking at?”
“I’m looking at everyone.”
“Isn’t there anyone you trust completely?”
Church gave me his tiny fraction of a smile. “Everyone I trust is in this building,” he said.
“But not everyone in this building has your trust.”
“No.”
“Where do I stand?” I asked.
“Where do I?”
Before I could answer, he patted me on the arm.
“Get cleaned up and we’ll talk more at the conference.”
Church turned and walked away.
Chapter Sixty-three
The Hangar
Floyd Bennett Field, Brooklyn
December 19, 8:33 P.M. EST
We gathered in a large conference room with a table into which were built computer workstations. There were plasma screens on all the walls and a multipanel central computer screen for teleconferencing. Everything was tomorrow’s idea of state of the art. Aunt Sallie, Church, Dietrich, and Dr. Hu were there. Bug peered at everyone from one of the view screens. The last to arrive was Circe O’Tree, and she pushed a wheelchair in which sat a disgruntled and deeply embarrassed Rudy Sanchez.
I smiled at him, but he held up a stern finger. “One word, Cowboy, and I will find a way to kick your ass.”
“Just wanted to say that I’m glad you’re feeling up to this. Can’t be easy.” He gave me an evil look. “Really? I find getting shot to be so invigorating.”
Circe left his wheelchair with me and ran over to give Aunt Sallie a hug. For me it was a real WTF moment. And not just because I couldn’t imagine anyone
When Circe stepped back from Aunt Sallie, she saw that Church was there. Circe froze and her face went blank. No hugs there, just a formal handshake and a few words privately exchanged.
Curiouser and curiouser.
Church signaled for everyone to take their seats. I helped Rudy out of the wheelchair and into a seat next to mine at the table. Circe came and sat on Rudy’s other side.
“How are you?” I asked.
“I’ll live,” she said. “Where’s your dog?”
“In my room eating his way through most of a large cow. At least that’s what I think the kitchen staff delivered. Might be an elephant. Ghost was in monkey heaven.”
“Glad someone’s in a good mood. I’m not, and I’m having a hard time processing all of this.”
“Doc … before this whole thing gets started, I wanted to say that I respect and appreciate everything you did today. You put your ass on the line twice. You may have saved my life and you definitely saved Rudy’s. That van would have run him over if you hadn’t fired on it.”
“I already thanked her, Cowboy,” Rudy said, but I ignored him.
Circe’s eyes glistened. “Does that mean I get to curse, get a tattoo, and say ‘hooah’?”
There was just the hint of a smile as she said it.
I grinned. “Yes, you do.”
“Hooah,” she said with dry irony.
“Hooah.”
We traded a fist bump.
“Dios mio,” Rudy breathed.
“Are you children done playing?” snapped Aunt Sallie from across the table. Circe and I whipped our hands back like we were caught going into a cookie jar.
On the central display, a dozen screens came to life showing the faces of directors of the various DMS field offices, most of whom I knew by sight or reputation. Church took his chair, but before he spoke he raised a small remote and pointed it at the door. There was a hiss of hydraulics and the clang of heavy locks.
“We are in full lockdown,” he announced. “I am hereby initiating a Class One security protocol. You are all hereby bound by Executive Order A-9166/DMS. All participating stations are to activate protocol Deacon Alpha Ten. Verify.”
One by one the DMS field commanders gave their verification. This was only the second time since I’d been with the DMS that we had gone to our highest security status. I understood why, but from the confused and
