“I’d advise you not to make empty threats, ma’am.”
“I can kill every one of you in this room by stopping your hearts, and there is nothing any of you can do about it. That is far from an empty threat. Do you understand?”
“Sure,” Rostow said. He moved quickly, standing in one fluid motion, drawing his handgun at the same time, flicking the safety off, and firing three times in rapid succession.
Straight at my head.
Chapter 9
CLICK, CLICK, CLICK.
I was no Fire Warden, but I didn’t need to be one to disrupt the bullets in his gun; in the past few moments, I’d chemically changed the powder in all of their bullets into a similar but inert compound that wouldn’t fire, no matter how many times he pulled the trigger.
Rostow’s eyes widened, but he took the shock in stride, and his people were well trained. It was close quarters, and they swarmed me ... or tried to. But it was a metal van, and I was an Earth Warden. Metal flowed up over their feet, trapping them in place, tripping them up and binding them to the floor of the van wherever they hit.
I didn’t kill anyone.
I didn’t have to.
I’d left Rostow unbound, to make the point. His chair rolled a few inches, and stopped as it bumped into the leg of one of his two assistants, who was pinned to the wall of the van with a thick band of metal.
“I didn’t have to be so nice,” I said. “Do we have an understanding now about why you don’t want to make me angry?”
He was beaten, and he knew it. Rostow looked down at the gun in his hand, flicked the safety back on, and holstered it with a quick, fluid motion. “What do you want?” His voice was clipped and businesslike now. He was done trying to persuade or reassure me. “If you’ve hurt any of them ...”
“Bruises,” I said. “And you tried to put three bullets through my skull, Agent Rostow, so I would suggest you have no grounds to expect too much in the way of restraint from me. What I want is for you to tell me how the people in that compound come and go.”
“They don’t,” he snapped.
“They must. They can’t be totally self-sufficient. Not yet.”
He hesitated, then said, “They bring in supplies and new recruits once a month. One of them leaves to pick up the supplies and recruits in a minivan.”
“Where do the recruits come from?”
“The Church has people out there proselytizing. We catch them sometimes, but not often. They’ve formed a kind of underground railroad that ferries converts from one place to another. The rally points change every time; we don’t know where the next one will be.”
“But you do know where they go for supplies?”
“They vary that, too. We haven’t figured out how they place the order; probably through someone on the outside, because we’re monitoring phones, cell frequencies, Internet, et cetera. We follow them when they leave, but we can’t get ahead of them. What bugs we’ve managed to slip in have been intercepted and destroyed before they get inside.”
That was not as much information as I’d hoped, but what had I expected—that Pearl would leave this facility as sloppily run as the one in California? No, she learned from mistakes, most definitely.
“Have you managed to get anyone inside the compound undercover?” I asked.
Without a flicker, he said, “Not yet.” I couldn’t tell whether he was lying; it was entirely possible he meant what he’d said. Still. it never hurts to cultivate a reputation for supernatural keenness, and so I gave him a slow, wicked smile, and said, “Liar. You do have someone inside. Who?”
He frowned, just a slight groove between his eyebrows. “Where are you getting that? I just told you we don’t.”
“I’m an Earth Warden. We know a lie when we hear one. Please, don’t insult me by continuing to bluff.”
For a long moment, I thought that my bluff had been called, but then he shook his head and said, “We did, until two days ago.”
“What happened two days ago?”
“Our agent walked out of the gates, came to find me, and told me that she’d seen the error of her ways and she was quitting the bureau. Then she turned and walked back inside.” He turned to the monitors, looking at each in turn, and then pointed at one of them—the field, and the people out in the sun using the hoes. “There. That’s her.”
“You’re sure she wasn’t just trying to get in deeper with them, or preserve her cover?”
Rostow’s mouth set in a flat, grim line. “I know Stephanie,” he said. “Known her a long time. I can tell you that wasn’t an act, and it damn sure wasn’t Stephanie. What went into that compound was a great agent; what came out to quit was a true believer. She got turned. I know it in here.” He tapped his gut with one hand. I believed him. There was no reason for him to lie about it, and there was real pain in his expression. “I hate losing people, but I’d rather lose them honestly than have them brainwashed into a cult.”
“You realize that she will have already told them everything she could about you, your operation here, and anything else that could be helpful to them.”
His eyes turned blank and hard. “No shit. Surprisingly enough, I did think of it. So what other stunning revelations do you have to share with me, Warden?”
“If you help me get inside, I can get information back to you freely.”
That made him frown. “Freely. As in, anytime you want.”
“Exactly.”
“How?”
I smiled, just a little, and fluttered his eardrum in a whisper. I just can, I said, and he jerked in surprise and clapped a hand over his left ear. “What the hell?”
“Warden abilities,” I said. “You won’t be able to communicate back to me, but I can talk to you across a considerable distance, as long as I can find you on the aetheric.”
“I’m going to pretend that last part made sense,” he said, “because I like the first part a lot. Trouble is, you’re just a tad recognizable—maybe not as a Djinn, but you sure don’t look like a likely recruit, either.”
“I can manage.”
“Do you have any idea of your own arrogance, lady?”
“Yes,” I said. “Do you have any idea of yours?” One of the FBI agents pinned to the van let out a choked sound that was almost a laugh. I didn’t blink. “I will let your people go if you promise good behavior. If not, you may wish to invest in some kind of welding equipment.”
Rostow considered all that, and it was obvious that he really, really wanted to tell me to go to hell, but he finally nodded reluctantly. “All right,” he said. “Last thing I want to do is piss off the Wardens right now. Let them go. I promise we’ll play nice.”
That did not seem to me to be an exact enough definition of cooperation—not for a Djinn—but he seemed sincere enough. I extended my hand, and after a hesitation he accepted the gesture and shook firmly.
As he did so, I released his people from their bonds. Some, overbalanced, sprawled on the van floor; others grabbed for their weapons. “Enough of that!” Rostow snapped, still shaking my hand. “Stand down. Not sure your guns will fire any better than mine, and we don’t need more excitement in close quarters right now.”
The agents quieted down, positioning themselves carefully. I noticed they did so with an eye to firing cleanly at me, should that be necessary. I didn’t mind. I would restore their ability to fire their weapons, but not until I left the van.
“Now,” I said, looking Rostow in the eye, “tell me how you plan to get me into the compound.”
“I can’t.”
“You can. You’ve already selected another agent, and you’re planning to infiltrate within the next few days.”
I had to give him credit—he really didn’t allow me to shock him this time. “I don’t know where you’re getting this stuff, but it isn’t—”
“It must be,” I said, “because otherwise your superiors would be demanding action of some kind, and it’s been quiet and tranquil here in what I can only think is your command center. No demanding phone calls. No tension. So you have a plan, which you are in the process of executing.”