“And you’re not one of those people?” John asks.
“No, son, I am not,” Lawson replies. “I’m an old man who was happy playing golf a few weeks ago. I’m not interested in profit or power. I’m interested in keeping this world safe. I believe you folks can be a force for good. I’ve seen all the footage: the healing, the self-sacrifice. I’ve also met that one-eyed fellow you’ve got down in the basement. We don’t want any more of those, do we?”
I glance in Marina’s direction. “No, we definitely do not.”
“I’m all about keeping the world safe. Training your people, putting them in positions where they can use their gifts for the greater good.” John’s about to say something, but Lawson holds up a hand. “These are all just words if we don’t win this war, and considering your past experiences with government organizations, I’d think you were fools if you didn’t distrust me. But when all this is over, I want you to be involved. I want you to tell me what’s best for these young people, for our planet. And I’ll want your help making that happen.”
The three of us exchange looks. If Lawson’s playing us, he’s doing a real good job of it. But judging by John’s distant expression, I’m not sure all his concerns have been put to rest. Or maybe, like me, he’s realizing how pointless it is to argue about the future in the face of certain death.
I clear my throat and change the subject. “So, about those cloaking devices.”
“Still no progress from my R&D on engineering our own version,” Lawson replies, relieved to be back on mission.
“That’s all right,” John says. “We’re ready to steal you some. That warship that the human Garde lured to Niagara Falls is a perfect target. Isolated, distracted, overextended.”
“YouTube stupidity occasionally pays off,” I add.
“I’m going to take a small team and slip on board, steal the devices,” John continues. “Ready to go with that as soon as possible.”
Lawson nods. “Excellent. I’ll want to have a team of my own in place nearby, just in case things go haywire and you need extraction.”
“I don’t have a problem with that, so long as they aren’t spotted,” John replies.
Marina’s been quiet for a while. She stares at one of the news channels, watching footage from London. Thousands of people are marching through the streets, evacuating with only the possessions they can carry, while a warship looms in the background.
“What’s being done to protect the people in the cities with warships?” she asks. “The Mogadorians will inevitably press their attack. . . .”
“All but a few cities have an evacuation in progress,” Lawson replies. “Last I checked, most of them were at about eighty percent relocation. This extra day really bought us some ti—”
Lawson is interrupted by a hurried knock on the door. Before he can answer, an FBI agent with a thick five-o’clock shadow enters, even though the twins try to block him. I recognize him as Noto, the guy Adam is teaching how to speak Mogadorian way down in the sub-subbasement.
“Excuse me, sir,” he says to Lawson before he turns his attention to John. “You should probably come down to our monitoring station. Something’s happening.”
That can’t be good.
The three of us, plus Lawson, the twins and Noto, hustle down to where Adam is monitoring the Mogadorian transmissions. On the way, Noto brings us up to speed as best he can.
“The Mog warship captains were going back and forth like they’ve been all day, especially since the one disobeyed orders and moved his ship to Niagara Falls,” Noto explains hurriedly. “Just now, a new voice came on—”
“Setrákus Ra?” I ask.
“No, a woman,” Noto replies. “She’s been giving a speech, putting everybody in their place by the sounds of it. Adam looks . . .”
He looks pissed, that much is obvious as soon as we enter the room. Adam sits on the edge of his chair, hands clasped tightly in front of him, his dark eyes glaring at the Skimmer console. Of course I recognize the voice that’s got Adam looking so murderous.
“Phiri Dun-Ra,” I say.
“Who?” John asks, turning to me as we all crowd around Adam.
“A most unpleasant person, even in terms of Mogadorians,” Marina says.
“She’s the bitch who was in charge of breaking into the Sanctuary,” I tell John. “We had some run-ins.”
“She almost killed me and Dust,” Adam says quietly, not taking his eyes off the console, listening to Phiri’s every harsh-sounding word.