A Method Truly Sublime (The Commander) (19 page)

“Did you have any other interactions with any Transforms on February 2
nd
?”

“No,” Hancock said.  This time Tonya couldn’t tell Hancock lied.

“Have you ever hunted Detroit?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I was ordered by the Arm, Stacy Keaton, not to hunt Detroit.  I don’t know why
, exactly.”  Hancock had changed her answer to one where she didn’t need to overtly lie!  Tricky, very tricky.

“Stop,” Tonya said.  This was bad.  Hancock had rolled Teas, and it hadn’t happened during these interviews.  Which meant th
e lunatic fool, Teas, had visited Hancock in the off hours and disabled the surveillance cameras or suborned the people in charge of them.  The Arm was an expert at telling partial truths, a method which might be able to fool even a top-end Focus like herself.

Worst,
this meant Hancock’s vetting by Rizzari hadn’t been worth shit.  If Hancock wanted, she could have pulled the wool over Lori’s eyes in exactly the same way.  Teas didn’t have the strongest charisma among the Focuses, but she was no slouch, and likely possessed the strongest charisma among the first Focuses.  Up close and with the body contact Teas needed for her brand of charisma she should have been strong enough to prevent the Arm from rolling her.

Tonya turned to Zielinski.  “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”  Yet another question that would disturb her people, but Zielinski was nearly as good at reading people as she was in a situation where she didn’t have her usual Transform sensory advantages.

“I believe you Focuses term this mutual rolling,” Zielinski said.  As predicted, Marty and Danny gasped when they heard Zielinski’s words.  That term wasn’t one to be bandied about.  “I’d say Hancock wasn’t able to gain control over Teas, but was able to conceal much of her true feelings and reactions.  Teas had full control over Hancock’s more violent side in the second interview, but not in the first.  For someone of my minor skills I can’t tell anything else.”

Minor skills my aching back, Tonya thought.

The smile on Zielinski’s face showed far too much pride for Tonya’s taste.  How much had he taught Hancock in the charisma department, anyway?

“This is evidence that Hancock
might be behind the Transform killings and abductions,” Tonya said.

Zielinski frowned at her but didn’t say anything.

“Dr. Jeffers, I’ve
examined the information you’ve provided,” Tonya said.  “I believe absolutely everyone in contact with Hancock is compromised, not just Special Agent McIntyre.”  If Hancock had the skills to roll Teas, rolling anyone else on the staff wouldn’t be a problem.

“That’s absurd,” Dr. Jeffers said.

“It’s the truth.  Here’s my interim report,” Tonya said, and passed it to Dr. Jeffers.

He
scanned the report and sighed.  “I’m not sure I can do anything with this, Focus Biggioni.  What would you recommend?”

“You want to interrogate her?  Put me in charge.  Give me the Arm.  Other than that, forget it.  She’ll find some way of breaking out of here within a week.  Lives will be lost and you won’t learn anything.”  Tonya cranked up the wattage on her charisma.  “My help is your only way out of this mess.”

Dr. Jeffers shivered but fought off her charismatic poke.  “Of course, Focus Biggioni.  I’ll pass that advice along to my superiors.”

Superiors?  Gaah.  Political appointees and politicians
, all as impossible for Tonya to affect with her charisma as Zielinski.  They had seen it all before.  Her ideas wouldn’t likely go anywhere, which wouldn’t satisfy Wini.  She needed to come up with another angle to put pressure on the situation.

“I’ll be hoping to hear from you, soon.”

Carol Hancock: March 18, 1968

I waited in my cell throughout the morning for the shit to start flying.  I sensed the tension, not in those who came to visit me, but in the situation.  No interrogations, no doctors.

Mr. Michaels
, my usual, took my vitals and drew my blood.  “Sorry,” he said, when I asked where everyone else was today.  “They don’t tell me anything.  They drop the requests in my in-box and I do them.  My boss, Dr. Reynolds, isn’t even cleared to visit you.”

I exercised and waited.  McIntyre’s absence
disturbed me the most.  I had been sure he was the Fed in charge of my interrogation.  Did the first Focuses fire him, too?

At lunch I found another letter from Zielinski, again in white wax on a paper napkin.

There’s a storm moving in and you might want to take cover.  The storm looks like it’s going to blow down the entryway and I expect any new entryway to be much sturdier.  If by some miracle you get this before the old entryway gets blown down, understand that despite what it may
appear the riSK is much smaller if you go through the entryway than if you take shelter.

Crap.  Zielinski intimated he would be able to break me out of Teas’ clutches far easier than breaking me out of the CDC.  Oh, and Teas was no Keaton.  I didn’t trust his judgment.  The tag offer still bothered me.  I didn’t have any interest in working against Lori or any confidence in Teas being able to keep me out of her boss’s hands.  Especially given my fear that Teas’ boss was Focus Patterson, the ‘honorary leader’ of the first Focuses and she of the Pittsburgh hellhole.

I expected a nighttime visit from the new Focus in charge, and got nothing.

I had a very bad suspicion I knew exactly where this headed.

Tonya Biggioni: March 19, 1968

Tonya’s most pressing current household problem walked into her makeshift sitting room a half hour before dawn, following her orders of last night.  His name was Snake, and he was all attitude and cockiness.  She understood why Alliniece, his original Focus, had trouble with this one.  Tonya suspected she would have a little trouble with him herself.

For this mess she
gave up Shot?  She was still pissed at Polly over the strong-arm tactics that lost her Shot, her favorite loaner Transform.

Snake was a little over six feet tall, in his late twenties, heavily muscled and covered with tattoos. 
His nickname came from the tattooed cobra winding its way up his right arm.  His long greasy hair partly covered mean dark eyes.  He stood, wary, in the center of the room, and tried to hide the fact he studied her.

“Come, sit down,” she said, from her position on the couch.  He
would relax some if she got him to sit.

“I’ll stand,” he said.

Tonya kept his juice count high despite his attitude.  This was the introduction and welcome.  She needed to start things out on a positive note.

“Your choice,” she said.
“I’m glad to have you in my household, and I think you’ll like it here.”  Eventually.  She goosed up his juice count as she spoke.

“You’re doing something to my mind
.”

“Yes
.”

Snake
narrowed his eyes, ready to do something dangerous.  Tonya didn’t worry about any physical danger.  She was quicker than he was, and stronger.

Plus, of course, she was his Focus.  She
had the ability to lay him out without lifting a finger.

Snake controlled his temper
, crossed his arms and eyed her with eyes of ice.

“Leave my mind alone.  It’s mine and nobody else fucks with it.”

Tonya shrugged.  “Not your call.”

Snake’s jaw clenched.  He looked ready to say something more, but Tonya interrupted him.

“You’re a Transform and the rules are different.  Let me tell you how this is going to work.”

“You can tell me all you want.  That don’t mean I’m
gonna let you screw with my head.”

Tonya leaned back in the couch and indicated the other end again.  “You
should sit,” she said.

“Go to hell.”

Tonya smiled.  He couldn’t get beyond his surface reaction to her, a mere nineteen year old slip of a girl in a man’s world.

She would change
his attitude soon.

“You don’t want to be a Transform.  You don’t want to take orders, especially from
any woman.  You don’t want to get along with people.  You don’t want to cooperate and obey rules.  A normal can get away with your attitude, but you’re a Transform now, and you no longer can.  You don’t like the hand fate dealt you?  Tough.  Live with it…or die.  You’re going to choose life, and I’m going to teach you how it’s done.”

“The hell you say, lady.  Alliniece tried to screw with my mind, too, and she
got nowhere,” Snake said.  The snake on his arm writhed, as his muscles clenched and loosened.

Tonya shrugged again.  “
The mind screwing, as you call it, must be done.  You’re going to find what I do disconcerting under the best of circumstances, and unpleasant if you try to fight me.  You’ll find you appreciate my work once we start working out the knots in your head.  I see a lot in you that’s good, and I think you have a lot of potential.”

She didn’t lie.
  He was a strong one and the strong ones always did well once Tonya cleaned them up.

“Fuck you.”

Tonya smiled.  “You’ll see it, too, after a while.”

Tonya had more to say, but
a knock on the door interrupted her.  Delia stuck her head in before Tonya had a chance to answer.  She felt a flash of anger and barely caught herself before she let it out on Delia.  As her aide, Delia knew better, and wouldn’t interrupt without good cause.  She didn’t deserve a dose of her Focus’s irritation with Snake.

“It’s the CDC
,” Delia said. “They want you down there as soon as possible.  The Arm just got someone killed.”

Oh, hell.

Tonya looked over at Snake, his attitude and rough edges, and hoped he knew enough not to do anything stupid while she was gone.  He needed a lot more of her time and attention before he would be safe to leave alone.

“Get Ralph to stay with him,” she told Delia, wishing she still had Shot.  “Get the team moving.  I want to be out of the house in fifteen minutes.”

---

Thirteen people
filled the conference room at the Professional Building, a room with only space for nine.  Dr. Ascot led her in, whispering names and titles as he went.

“Special Agent Clay Ellicot, with the FBI.  The man next to him is his boss, Assistant Director Joe Patrelle, the head of the FBI’s Transform division.  Dr. Jeffers is my boss.  Ed Wilson, Rack Schweitzel, and Maurice Dupree also work for Dr. Jeffers.  Wayne Leeson is head of Security here.  Richard Bentwyler is a psychologist.  DuBois is from Baylor, Cooper is from Harvard, and O’Brien and Riddelhauser are from Johns Hopkins.  Major Meade is from the Army.”

Tonya recognized Bentwyler and Cooper from her Council-level master Network directory.  She had never met either of them before, but she knew they had both worked with Zielinski in the past; after she looked them over, she decided it would be a cold day in hell before she would count on them to follow her orders in a hot situation like this.  Neither of them impressed her, save cerebrally.  Joe Patrelle was an old adversary, an opaque man with significant hidden political backing and little interest in keeping Transforms alive.

Dr. Ascot didn’t bother to introduce the secretary taking notes in the corner.  Zielinski wasn’t there; nor were any of the Network’s FBI people.  Nor was Special Agent McIntyre, or any representatives from the Federal Marshals
, the bureau who controlled Hancock’s legal status.  Tonya tried to get a read on the room and repressed a shiver.  The room was an adrenaline, testosterone, and cortisol cocktail, steeped in the foul stench of nasty politics at work.

Dr. Ascot managed to find seats at the table for the both of them, bumping Dupree and Schweitzel off the table and to a pair of chairs at the back of the room.  Tonya recognized Riddelhauser as the alcoholic.  Riddelhauser also sat
in the back of the room and looked like he wanted to fade into the wall.  She wondered if he would smell of alcohol to her, or if only an Arm would be able to notice his affliction.

Except for the secretary
, Tonya was the only woman in the room.  The men would resent her presence here.  Most of these people weren’t used to dealing with Transforms.  She read the room again, and as she feared, most of the participants looked at her, from the corners of their eyes, with more than token distrust.  She ignored their attention with the comfortable ease of someone used to an entire household of people watching her every move for years on end.  She weighed the use of her charisma and decided she would save her juice tricks for later.  In no way would she make herself the target for later backbiting and blame-gaming.

“If everyone would please be seated I’d like to get started,” Assistant Director Patrelle said, calling everyone to order.

“Yesterday, Dr. White, a visitor here from the Baylor College of Medicine, killed Dr. Vance, a junior doctor in his entourage,” Patrelle said. “Hancock had goaded him into it, by first insulting him about the end of his marriage, and then later by pointing out the junior doctor as the man his wife was having relations with.”  If he based his assertion on what Tonya had seen in the tape, his claim was absurd.  All Hancock did was mention Dr. Vance’s absence.  “Dr. White confronted the accused doctor, the doctor admitted the liaison, Dr. White shot and killed the doctor, and confessed immediately to the FBI.  We can’t charge Hancock with murder, but morally and ethically, we know she’s the one to blame.  After a long discussion with Dr. Jeffers, I’ve concluded, because of her manipulations, Hancock broke the agreement she made with Special Agent McIntyre regarding her behavior.  We’re here to decide what to do about this.”