Jeremy sprang to his feet. “Yes, sir.”
“We’re at a party, son, you can relax.” He turned to Teddy and stuck out a large palm. He was in his early seventies, at least. His silver hair was buzzed military-style. His face was tan and creased with lines, as if he’d withstood years in a desert and made it through the other side with all the knowledge of Moses.
That gut feeling she got around nonpsychics? The “alley, elevator, no good, get going, this isn’t going to turn out well” anxiety that told her people were lying? One glance at this guy told her to get the hell out of there. Everything about him made Teddy want to run. She didn’t have to look into his mind to know that.
“My classmate Theodora Cannon, sir,” Jeremy said. Teddy shook the man’s hand. His grip was too strong, as if on purpose. Teddy resisted every urge to squeeze back but knew she wasn’t supposed to draw attention to herself.
“And this is Christine Federico; she’s a third year.”
The man turned and offered his hand to Christine. “General Paul Maddux. I’m a friend of Jeremy’s father.”
Teddy wondered if the general knew about Whitfield. Since it was a private-public enterprise, she was certain some members of the military were in the know.
Maddux turned to Christine. “Any plans after graduation?”
Christine gave Jeremy a quick glance, then shook her head. “I’m not sure where I’m headed next.”
He turned to Teddy. “What about you?”
“I’m not sure—”
“General,” Kate interrupted. “Kate Atkins, daughter of Major General Rodney Atkins.”
Kate? How’d she find me?
“Everyone’s getting ready for dinner, so I came to get Teddy. She has no sense of direction. We should probably get going.” Kate grabbed Teddy’s arm in a deathlike grip and steered her out of the room.
“You’re hurting me,” Teddy said, shaking free.
Kate stared at her, openmouthed. “The last thing I got from you was a surge of panic and then you cursing. You expected me not to find you? Wow. That hurts right here, partner.” Kate patted her heart. “I can’t believe Maddux is here. That guy is a legend.”
Teddy’s skin prickled. “He seemed creepy.”
“If you can call a war hero creepy. He led some of the few definitively successful Vietnam missions. Since then he’s practically written the book on how we handle guerrilla warfare.”
They reached the main entryway, where several tables had been set up for dinner. Kate stopped Teddy and pulled her into an alcove underneath a tasteful watercolor of the San Francisco Bay. “Did you get any dirt on Jeremy?” Kate asked.
“No,” Teddy said. “Unfortunately.”
“I’d say we should go now, but it would look suspicious if we were walking around upstairs and then just disappeared,” Kate said. “Let’s stay for a course or two, then slip out before dessert.”
“Mission failure,” Teddy said.
Kate shrugged. “ ‘When all is said and done, more is always said than done.’ ”
“Sun Tzu?” Teddy asked.
“Drake.”
* * *
Teddy and Kate found seats at a practically empty table in the corner, alongside the hair-sprayed matron from earlier. Jeremy, Christine, and General Maddux entered the foyer ten minutes later. Teddy panicked when she realized that the only remaining seats were at her table. She braced herself for an uncomfortable meal with General McCreepy. But he acted the part of congenial guest, directing conversation as it drifted from holiday gifts to New Year’s resolutions to, predictably, the weather.
And then the hair-sprayed matron just had to ask about homeland security.
Teddy saw Jeremy visibly tense. She knew his history, how he felt about America’s role as the defender of the free world. How he felt about not being able to do anything to save his mother.
General Maddux didn’t hesitate. “America’s foreign policies and homeland-security tactics have left its citizens vulnerable to attack,” he said. “We need the military now more than ever. We need men on the ground, drones in the air. I’ve been pushing to increase our presence overseas.” He reached for his wineglass, his expression thoughtful.
This guy was a hawk. Worse, no one at the table questioned him. If she could only interrupt his train of thought . . . Teddy imagined knocking over his glass, the wine spilling across the tablecloth. She sent a current down her arm as her astral body reached out. She could almost feel the cool glass on her fingertips.
The glass wobbled. It was about to tip over and then instantly righted, defying the laws of physics.
Maddux finished his lecture. He looked at her and raised his glass. Had he known what she had done?
“The fact is,” Teddy said, “I’d rather live in a free state than a police state. Your work will promote security restrictions and limit civil liberties. The alternative is—”
“The alternative is allowing acts of terrorism. Instead, we identify targets before they do harm.”
“And who would identify these targets?” she asked.
“You’re training to serve, Ms. Cannon. Who better than a carefully selected tribunal of our peers? One whose purpose has nothing to do with political expediency and everything to do with national security.”
Teddy glanced around the table. “Am I the only one scared shitless at the thought of a military tribunal whose sole purpose is to undermine the constitutional right of due process?”
Jeremy fidgeted with his butter knife. “I can see its place.”
“You can’t possibly—”
He dropped his butter knife. “If it meant stopping something like 9/11, then yes, I could,” he said, color high on his cheeks.
The general stood and smiled. “If you young people will excuse me.” He reached into his pocket and took out his phone. “Duty calls.”
Kate nudged Teddy under the table. “I think it’s time for us to head out, too.” She stood. “Thanks for dinner, Jeremy.”
Teddy followed Kate out to the front steps, still fuming. “I don’t know how you did it,” Teddy said as they waited for a cab.
“Did what?”
“Grew up in a military family.”
“They’re not all like that. He’s . . .” Kate hesitated. “He’s sure of his own beliefs.”
“So you agree with him?” Teddy felt her skin grow hot.
“I didn’t say that. But doesn’t it