Maybe seeing the carnage Others caused would be enough to ensure that she would figure out a way to rid Seattle of its Kalith residents. The Board of Regents had considered issuing direct orders to dispose of them, but he’d reluctantly argued against that idea. If they ever managed to piss off the Paladins enough that they walked away from the job, the whole world would be screwed, not to mention overrun with Others out for blood.
He picked up the authorization requests Sasha had submitted and skimmed them. After stopping to read them more carefully, he considered the implications and had to smile. His daughter sure was hell bent on making her presence known, and not just in Seattle. Once her proposed expenditures were approved, the Regents would be hearing from every Paladin installation in the world wanting some of the same, most likely starting with the ones right here in Missouri.
Maybe it was time to roll the dice and see what happened. He reached for his pen and scrawled his name on the requests.
Chapter 11
Duke glared at the e-mail on his laptop. The sender’s address was unfamiliar, the kind he normally deleted without opening. But the subject line on this one was clearly meant for him.
He read it out loud: “Duke, the bastards must die.”
The body of the e-mail said more of the same, but again there was no signature to identify the sender. Okay, he was down with the idea if this guy was talking about killing those fucking Others who’d managed to worm their way into living on this side of the barrier. The adults should’ve been gutted the minute they crossed over and the two kids shoved back into their own world. Neither of those things was going to happen, not with a bunch of the Paladins ready to go down fighting to protect them.
So, yeah, he was ready to sign on to any feasible plan for getting things back to the way they were before that creepy Barak crossed paths with Devlin Bane. The e-mail said to simply send a blank reply if he wanted to know more. He’d do it in a heartbeat if he knew for sure it wasn’t a trap.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked, wishing he could expect an answer.
His hand hovered over the mouse, his left forefinger itching to click the button. If he chickened out, he’d have to go on watching his friends fight and die, and for what? Not a damned thing if the Regents and the Paladins started treating the enemy with more respect than they did the guards.
He knew for a fact that part of the Seattle budget had been diverted to pay the three adult Kalith’s salaries. Barak was paid to work with his woman. No doubt about how he earned his money. Hell, Duke would’ve applied for that job himself, but Lacey Sebastian had never given him a second glance.
The other two were “instructors.” Sure, they could teach everyone how to counter the style of fighting the Others used. But in return, the Kalith now knew everything about the human weapons and how they were used.
The question he had was whether the Kalith could duplicate the technology used to produce firearms or stun guns. Who knew what kind of intelligence Barak and Larem had been sent across the barrier to gather?
As Duke considered his options, he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. On the one hand, he could ignore the e-mail and go on just as he had been: reporting for duty, doing his job, and eating antacids by the handful. Or, he could click the button and see what happened.
He clicked the mouse before he could convince himself otherwise.
It wasn’t until he was well into his six-pack two hours later that he remembered to check his mail. Sure enough, his mysterious contact had responded. Before opening the e-mail, Duke snagged another beer.
Okay, it was now or never. He opened the e-mail and scanned its contents.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
He couldn’t sit still, so he walked a couple of laps around the room before sitting back down at the computer to read the message again:
Friend, from now on we won’t use names or at least real ones. This Sunday, take the ferry across to Whidbey Island and drive down to the state park on the south end. Be there at noon and carry a newspaper opened to the sports page so we can recognize each other. I can’t tell you how many of us to expect and wouldn’t if I could. You have one last chance to back out of the deal by replying with “cancel my subscription” typed in the subject line. Otherwise, you’re in this for the long haul. The fight for our world begins now!
The words burned themselves into Duke’s brain. After deleting the e-mail, he purged the trash file and then emptied the recycle bin, hoping to destroy all records of the correspondence except a hard copy. Sunday was his day off. Had the mysterious sender known that? It was pretty damned spooky how much the guy seemed to know.
Duke would know more come this weekend. Until then, tomorrow was another workday, and it was time for bed. But as he lay staring up at the ceiling in the darkness, he had to wonder whether he’d just signed his own death warrant.
The money had been approved. Sasha danced around her office whooping it up, grinning from ear to ear and toasting her reflection in the window. Her little celebration didn’t last long though. It was no fun when she was the only one tapping her toes.
She dialed Laurel’s number but decided against leaving a message when it went to voice mail. She also struck out when she tried Devlin. That was okay. In an hour she was due at Lacey Sebastian’s house for a Saturday night barbecue. It would be a whole lot more fun to tell Devlin and Laurel in person.
The geologist had called with the invitation right after Sasha had finished up her meeting with Devlin. Lacey had warned Sasha that there was likely to be a mob, but that was okay. It would be nice to get to know the locals in a more informal setting.
Her father had made it a policy not to socialize much with the hired help, as he called anyone other than the Regents themselves. His theory was that maintaining an emotional distance made it easier to make the hard decisions. Maybe that worked for him, but not for her. The choices the Regents made had a direct impact on everyone in the organization. She wanted people to feel that she was approachable and open to their suggestions.