Cloud Dust: RD-1 (8 page)

"August, don't give me platitudes," I whispered,
attempting to shove down the panic attack.

"Water, mum," a bottle was placed in my hands.

"Drink it, Corinne," August said, taking the cap off
the bottle he was given and emptying it in six swallows.

"This is insane," I mumbled, struggling to remove
the cap on my bottle. August took it and did it for me. I drank. Until that
moment, I hadn't realized how thirsty I was—or how shaky. I could barely hold
the bottle steady to drink.

"Save any for me?" Rafe knelt beside my chair.

I spilled water on him, giving him a grateful hug.

Chapter 8
 

Corinne

We heard about the theft of the Imperial State Crown, the Orb
and the Sceptre from the Tower of London on the drive to our hotel. The
Secretary was with us; the PM had an appointment at Buckingham Palace.

What did it matter that it was after two in the morning? Maye's
wound was a graze, and the ambulance crew that arrived to take charge of Dave
had patched her up. "Do you think the two incidents were connected?"
Kevin asked.

I was much too tired to speak, and almost too tired to listen.
I huddled into my corner of the limousine and listened while the others talked.

"We can't rule that out," August said. He and the
Secretary of State had been on the phone almost from the moment we'd gotten out
of the tunnel. Rafe dispatched the last of the assassins after Maye was wounded,
so all eight were dead.

The PM could sort all that out; I wanted a shower. Crawling
through a vent in an evening dress, followed by a lengthy run through abandoned
tunnels hadn't done much for me or my clothing. I was covered in dust, grime
and had at least three long rips in my dress. The others didn't look much
better.

August also reported on the assassins waiting at the Waterloo
exit for the PM—of the four of those, one was dead and three managed to escape.
A manhunt was ongoing, but I didn't hold much hope that they'd be caught.

When Mary Evans' name was mentioned, however, I did perk up.
"She's missing. We had someone following her, and she just
disappeared," August shrugged.

That was a problem. A really big problem.

"We'll have a meeting in the morning, before we fly back
to the States," August said. "The PM is providing guards at the
hotel. Try to get as much rest as possible. Everybody should be up by oh-eight-hundred.
Cori, I want to talk to you tonight."

"No, Auggie," I moaned. I wanted a shower and bed.
August wanted to talk.

"You, too, Rafe."

* * *

"The Secretary of State will see to it that none of you will
be mentioned in the rescue operation," August paced in front of us. He'd
hauled us inside his suite for the talk while the others were herded to their
bedrooms by their handlers.

August sent Dalton to his room, too. I wondered how he felt
about the exclusion. "While Dave really is a hero for saving my ass in
those tunnels, he'll get the bulk of the credit. Neither of you can mention this
incident outside the Mansion."

"You don't let me outside the Mansion anymore—who am I
gonna talk to?" I muttered. I was exhausted and shaking.

"I know the drill, Colonel," Rafe said. "We
need sleep, not a lecture."

"Then you can go. Corinne has to stay."

Rafe mumbled something in his native language. I got the idea
he was telling Auggie to go fuck himself. He stalked out of the suite, leaving
me alone with Colonel August Hunter.

"Corinne, I want to talk to you about your transfer. I
heard you as plain as day in my head. Now, I'm not talented, so there's no way
I can send a message back, but that talent alone could make you invaluable to
the Program. There are no bugs in this room, so you can speak freely about what
happened tonight."

"I don't want to talk about it," I said, wrapping
arms about myself tightly. The shaking was getting worse.

"Look, I have to put this in my report to the
President."

"Then do what you have to do. It could get us both
killed."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" August exploded.

"Cutter," I whispered, my voice trembling.
"He'll be first in line for the VP's job. That would be a major
mistake."

"What the hell does that have to do with this?"
August was angry and on the verge of violence.

"Do you have Dalton's phone conversations tapped?" I
lifted my eyes to watch August as he went still.

"Corinne, that's classified," he began.

"Then listen to them for the next two days. I think
you'll get an answer, Auggie, and you may not like it when you hear it."

* * *

I was barely out of the shower when Rafe walked into my room.
"Are you all right?" he asked. I was wrapped in the robe supplied by
the hotel and my hair was hanging in wet strings down my back. Not my most
attractive moment.

"I'm fine," I lied. "How about you?"

"Look, I've done this all my life," he said, raking
fingers through his hair and looking away for a moment. "It really doesn't
bother me. I know it bothers you."

"There's nothing we can do about it," I said.
"I'm sure Dr. Shaw will be waiting the moment I get back to the Mansion."

"Someday, cabbage, we should have a talk," Rafe
said.

"Fine, as long as it isn't tonight."

"Agreed. Go to bed and try to sleep." He walked out
of my room, closing the door softly behind him.

* * *

Notes—Colonel Hunter

I was resolved to listen to Corinne's warnings from now on. I
was prepared to act on them, too—to the best of my ability. I left a message
for James, in code. He'd pay attention to Dalton's phone conversations until I
asked him to stop.

Sleep hadn't come for a while, so a third cup of coffee was in
my hand while I waited for the others to gather in the hotel lobby. We had vans
coming to transport us to the airport, and I had notes to write during the
flight back to the States.

Corinne—I needed to see the President about her. Rafe performed
to expectations, but Corinne continued to puzzle me. Why had she chosen to
reveal talents now, instead of after she'd received the drug?

I'd have to consider that later—after I was rested and better
focused. Rafe arrived first, closely followed by Dalton. The others, Corinne
included, arrived less than five minutes later. I caught Maye and the others
staring at Cori from time to time, but they quickly looked away when she turned
in their direction.

They were speculating, just as I was. The President's hand
could be forced on this—there wasn't any way Corinne's performance the night
before could be erased from all their minds. Our two wild cards—Corinne and
Rafe—had saved our lives last night.

The vans arrived, forcing my thoughts away from them and onto
the task at hand. We rode to Heathrow, too tired to have anything other than
necessary conversation.

* * *

Corinne

My eyes felt as if they had sand in them, and an unusually
bright morning in Britain made them water in pain. Maye and the brothers
watched me whenever they could, attempting to figure out what had happened the
night before. I might have been of less interest to them if I'd grown an extra
head.

The ride to Heathrow seemed to take forever—London is a huge
city, after all. August squeezed between Dalton and me on a back seat in our
van, and I appreciated his attempts to protect me. Rafe sat in the row in front
of mine, and I hadn't failed to notice that Dalton didn't want to be near the
former spy if he could help it.

Rafe got Ken's company instead, with Maye and her handler in
the first row. The others rode in the second van, and theirs followed ours as
we made our way through London traffic to the airport.

I didn't care where I sat on the jet, as long as I could close
my eyes and sleep. On the trip from the States, I hadn't been offered anything.
This time, I had a pillow, a blanket and bottles of water and juice.

Who knew?

Rafe took the seat next to mine, leaned back, closed his eyes
and was asleep in minutes. I stayed awake for half the trip.

* * *

"You have a meeting with the President tomorrow,"
Dr. Shaw informed me when I walked into my kitchen. Rafe and August were right
behind, so the message was meant for them, too.

"What time?" August asked.

"Three. She has an hour to give you. She wants a report,
and has a few questions."

"Great." I shuffled toward the fridge and pulled out
the carton of milk. I offered a glass to Rafe, who shook his head and pulled
the dusty bottle of bourbon off the top of the fridge before he went looking
for a suitable glass. August and Dr. Shaw sat at the island to have a drink
with Rafe and me. I was the only one having milk.

The good news, I suppose, was that Rafe and I had two days
off, so he wouldn't be pounding me in Krav Maga lessons. "The Vice
President's funeral is scheduled next week," Dr. Shaw said, emptying his
glass and pushing it toward Rafe, who poured more bourbon.

"The White House is keeping the lid on the incident in
London. The reporters only have information on the Prime Minister's two guards.
The one who was shot was interviewed earlier from his hospital bed."

"As far as I'm concerned, he can take all the
credit." I hunched my shoulders and stared at the patterns in the granite
island. "He saved Auggie's life; that's all I care about."

"And I thought you didn't care," August quipped.

"Shut up," I mumbled as good-naturedly as I could.

"Corinne, I cleared some time for you tomorrow morning at
ten," Dr. Shaw said. "I'll be here then, whether you're dressed or
not. We'll talk."

"Say it ain't so," I moaned and dropped my forehead
on the island.

Rafe stayed when August and Dr. Shaw left. "Corinne,
what's wrong?" he asked. By mutual, silent agreement, we didn't touch.

"Everything," I breathed.

* * *

As promised, Dr. Shaw arrived in the kitchen at ten the following
morning. I had a bad-hair day going, following a bad-hair night. I brushed it
and my teeth, at least, before sitting down with Dr. Shaw.

"Now, what would you like to talk about?" Dr. Shaw
said, first thing. "I suggest the events in London as a starting
place."

"Dr. Shaw," I began.

"Call me Leo. You've earned that right."

"Seriously? What about the stationery I ordered for all
our communications?"

"Corinne, be serious, please," he said.

"I'll have to get used to it first," I said.
"It just seems unnatural to say Leo to your face."

He laughed. That didn't happen often.

"There's one thing I ought to tell you," I said.
"And believe me, I had a good reason for not saying it before."

"What reason is that?" he asked.

"Because we don't need a war with a certain Asian
dictator to be named later."

* * *

Notes—Colonel Hunter

"Do you mean to tell me those burned paintings were
fakes? That Louis the Fifteenth's crown at the Louvre is also fake?" I
stared at Shaw in disbelief.

"Corinne said, and I quote,
we don't need a war with
an Asian dictator to be named later
."

"Holy fucking hell," I blurted. My meeting with the
President just became much more complicated.

* * *

Corinne

"So," the President steepled her fingers and studied
me with unblinking scrutiny, "The crown in the Louvre is a fake. Do you
suspect that the ones behind the theft of Britain's crown jewels are also
behind that attack and theft?"

"Yes, but I can't get a handle on who's
responsible," I said, doing my best to sit up straight instead of sinking
into my chair.

"Is that what you're doing—searching for the ones
responsible?"

"Or the one," I said, happy that my voice only shook
a little. "He, she, it or they have lives to pay for. I intend to see that
they pay."

"I should have brought her to you in the beginning,"
Dr. Shaw muttered. He'd insisted on coming to the meeting with August, Rafe and
me. "You've gotten more information in five minutes than she's given me in
five years."

"Don't get all upset, Leo," I said. "I had my
reasons. I told you those reasons earlier. Heads have been hot over that whole
incident. What could have happened if they had a specific target?"

"I see your point," the President leaned back in her
chair. "With the information coming out now and only to a select few, we
may be able to employ—shall we say classified measures—to retrieve these
items?"

"I think we have agents in other departments who might be
able to track them," August suggested.

"Then I'll look into who might be able to handle this.
Someone who speaks the language fluently and can fit in," the President
said. "I'll let you know. Corinne, are you working on the other part of
this, still—the part of making the ones responsible for that massacre pay?"

"I am," I said. "I just need more cooperation
from a few people."

"Then you can have anything you want, within
reason."

"I just want photographs," I said. "Colonel
Hunter knows which ones."

"See to it," she nodded to Auggie.

"What about the Secretary of State and the Prime
Minister?" Rafe asked. "Are they still targets?"

"Possibly," President Sanders replied.
"Security has been increased and all departments here and in Britain are
on alert."

"Any word on the one who called herself Mary Evans?"
Rafe asked his follow-up question.

"None. Vanished like a puff of smoke in a high wind. We
currently have nothing on her location, but our resources are working on that
now."

"I believe she's our go-between," Rafe said.

"Do you have any idea who is directing her
movements?"

"None at the moment, but if I can see those photographs
Corinne mentioned, I may recognize someone."

"Then you have my permission to contact the necessary
departments. Look, I hate to end this meeting—it has been more than
productive," the President said. "But I have another meeting. I'll
have someone show you out. Thank you—all of you, for your exemplary service in
London."

* * *

Notes—Colonel Hunter

James brought information to me the moment I arrived in my
office—a flash drive containing phone conversations between Dalton Parrish and
General Cutter was placed in my hand as James offered a silent frown. He and I
listened as Dalton informed Cutter of Corinne's performance in the tunnels
beneath London. I cursed the moment I heard Cutter refer to her as a witch.