CHAPTER 80
TURNED THE GUN ON KOZLOW. Hyperspeed being what it was, I had the gun pointed between his eyes before he’d done more than have his jaw drop open.
“Feel free to give me a reason.”
“Ah, I have a kill switch,” he said in a rather panicked and hopeful tone.
“Which is why you’re not dead at this precise time. What does the kill switch go to?”
“The circuit board. It’s not actually getting current right now.”
“So, Russell, you need to ask yourself how much you want to destroy this building.”
“I don’t want to die. So if it’s the building or me . . .”
“We’ll ponder that. Dudes, are you still there or did you all get captured or something?” Kept eye contact with Kozlow.
“We’re here,” Jeff said, sounding annoyed. “Siler insisted on us letting you do your thing.”
“Is that a complaining tone I hear? Why so serious and bitter? One more Crazy Eight down, one in my sights. I’m not seeing the downside to this at the moment.”
“He wanted to be heroic,” Siler said. “I felt that getting out of this in the easiest way possible was the better choice.”
“Super-duper. Three things. One: Most of you get Christopher out of that ridiculous deathtrap he’s in.”
“Ah, I have the kill switch,” Kozlow said in the way one does when trying to remind a superior of something key.
“And if you use it, you die. Any questions?”
“No,” Kozlow said. He carefully turned the kill switch off and put it on the desk.
“Now, was that so hard? I knew you were smarter than Nerida. The second thing is that I want you, Russell, to explain to me how his team is using and controlling Cliff’s floater gates or whatever you guys call them.”
“He calls it fast transport. It works a lot like your floater gates.”
“Why not use the term floater gate, then?”
“Honestly?”
“Do I look like I want you to lie?”
“No, you don’t. Honestly, I think it’s because that’s the term you guys use and he refuses to sound the same. I’m not certain how close they are to your gates, though. Ours require clashing harmonic frequencies. I know how to get the right sounds and smash them together. We used to have more people who could do that, but they’re all dead. So, right now, I’m the only one.”
“Seriously? No one else has bothered to learn this skill?” Wondered if Cliff’s brain had fried or something.
“It requires some talent,” he said, rather modestly. “Nerida was right—my talent isn’t strong, but it’s specialized, and it’s the right talent for this particular job.”
“You’re right—G-Company would be thrilled to have you exclusively on their team.” Not that I was going to allow that outcome.
He blushed. He actually blushed, despite a gun barrel settled between his eyes. This guy hadn’t heard a word of praise for years, possibly decades. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And the third thing is that I want one of you to get my phone for me.” It was in my back pocket and I didn’t want to risk looking away and giving Kozlow a chance to try to grab my gun from me or similar.
“I have your phone,” Reader said. “Since I’m allowed to touch your butt because I’m gay.” He also took the kill switch, which action I totally approved of.
“No you’re not,” Jeff said.
“Says only you, Jeff. Who am I calling for you, girlfriend?”
“Chernobog.”
At this Kozlow’s eyes opened wider, but he didn’t say anything.
“Put it on speaker?” Reader asked.
“Please and thank you.”
My music switched off as the phone rang. It rang a few times but then she answered. “Hello?”
“Boggy baby, how’re they hangin’?”
“Kitty? Why are you calling me? Was Stryker’s phone busy?”
“Not sure if that’s a hint that Stryker has intel for me or something, but no, I’m calling you directly. For reasons.”
“Alright. What might those reasons be?”
“How much do you love your son?”
She was silent for a few moments. “I would prefer that you not kill Russell, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“It’s not possible,” Kozlow whispered.
“In a way it is. But I want to know, how much do you love your son? I ask because I’m sitting here with him, and he seems far more thrown by hearing your voice than by the fact that I have a Glock with a lot of bullets still in the clip sitting on the bridge of his nose.”
“I didn’t tell him I was still alive, is that a sin?”
“Not sure. Ask my Mom what she thinks about it.”
“She approves,” Chernobog said dryly. “Telling someone—someone identified as working against those you’ve aligned with, I might add—that you’re alive and well when the world needs to believe you dead is one of those big don’ts in spy craft.”
“Why so testy? Did I interrupt another Hacker International Movie Night?”
“It’s the early afternoon here, so no. Is Russell there?”
“Mother?” He sounded as freaked out as he looked. “Why didn’t you tell me you were alive?”
“When should I have done that, Russell? When you were in the Pentagon’s supermax prison or when you were broken out of it and trying to help the lunatic who put a contract out on me to destroy the world?”
“I’m your son!”
“Yes. Yes, you are. Which is why I’d prefer it if Kitty not kill you.”
“You’d prefer it?” Kozlow sounded shocked and pissed both. “So if she kills me, what? You’ll be a little sad and then move on?”
There was another pause. “Russell, during all the time you were not in prison, how often did you call me or visit me?”
“We were both busy. You said you understood!”
“Parents say that but they’re lying,” I shared. “Trust me on that one.”
“Mother, I need your help!”
Chernobog heaved a sigh. “I’m sure you do. I helped you recently. My price for participation with that lunatic Goodman’s plans was your freedom from the Israelis, which set up a chain of events that culminated in a hit being put on my head and assigned to the best assassin in the world. And you didn’t call me then, did you? You were out, working for the same people I was. You had time. But nothing. Kitty is a better daughter to me than you were a son, and she’s not even trying to be. But I live with her, in a lovely suite, surrounded with luxury, working with people who admire me, given anything I want.”
“Other than your freedom,” I felt the need to point out. “Not that we don’t trust you by now. And, no offense, but I kind of think of you as more of a grandmother en residence.”
She snorted. “I’m ‘dead,’ remember? There is nothing more freeing and there is also no need to leave the building. Everything I want is here, and if I lack something, I contact Pierre, who gets it for me. And grandmother is perfectly acceptable. You’re a good granddaughter, is what I’m telling my ungrateful son.”
“They’re all squatters,” Jeff muttered. “Even her. Especially her.”
“You . . . you’re protecting my mother?” Kozlow asked, sounding even more shocked, if such were possible. “She’s part of your family?”
“She’s the only reason I’m alive,” Chernobog snapped. “She brokered the deal with the Dingo to fake my death. Not you, Russell, her. So if she chooses to kill you, Russell, then I will have to mourn you. As I do every day, since you never call and you never write.”
“Ah, in Russell’s defense, he’d thought you were dead. Seriously, I’d thought you’d have told him you were alive somehow.”
“Olga is here and wishes me to share that you tend to be far too sentimental. It’s a failing. We both love you for it, but still.”
“You love her?” Kozlow sounded ready to freak out or cry or both. Probably both.
“Figure of speech,” I said quickly. “Okay, Boggy, good to know where you stand and all that. Does Stryker need me or were you just assuming that I’d have tried him first because I’ve known him longest and consider him the leader of the hacker pack, so to speak?”
“No, I assumed you’d try him first because you appear to really enjoy baiting him.”
“That’s me all the way, honestly. So, intel, yea or nay?”
“Yea. He has news on the alien landing sites you asked him to research. Shall I put him on now?”
“Um, sure. Either Russell’s going into custody or into the morgue, so we can share whatever within his hearing.” Waited while the phone changed hands. Heard a lot of bickering in the background. Yep, Chernobog was in the Zoo’s Computer Lab.
“Kitty, you really have Chernobog’s son?” Stryker asked by way of hello.
“I do. Say hello, Russell.”
“Hello, who are you? My mother’s new son?” Asked with extreme bitterness.
“Well, I think she thinks of me more as a nephew,” Stryker said rather proudly. “Yuri, though, yeah, Yuri’s definitely scoring the son treatment. I think it’s because he’s Russian and that makes her more susceptible to the charm he claims to possess.”
“Proud of you for not saying that it’s because he’s blind, Stryker. That’s some personal growth, that is.”
“She says he’s a better hacker because he can’t see.” Heard voices. “Oh, Big George, Ravi, and Henry all say that Chernobog thinks of them as nephews, too. But she likes me best of you guys.” More voices, many raised. “No, we’re not all equal to anyone. I’m Kitty’s favorite, too, in case you aren’t aware. I’ve known her longer than anyone around other than Chuck and Amy. And I’m still Chuck’s go-to man, and don’t the rest of you forget it!”
“Stryker! Focus, dude.”
“Huh? Oh, right. But anyway, we have a ton to tell you about all the alien landing sites, but Ravi says that since his wife is in the Middle East, right in the middle of one of the triangles we should focus on that one.”
“I’m one with Ravi on this thought. What about this one? The triangle points are three impressive buildings, two of which are quite old. Why so?”
“Builders were drawn to those locations, we’re sure. They’re over places where we have known Z’porrah power cube rooms. Same with every other triangle we could find. All points of the triangles have a Z’porrah power cube room under them.”
“Interesting, especially since almost none of the spaceships we’ve seen so far are triangular, the Z’porrah’s in particular. Any relevance for averting the end of the world as we know it?”
“Doubt it. But there’s also a power cube room under the Persian Gulf, nearish to Kharg Island. I think it’s connected to whatever the Treeship is going to land in or on in a few hours.”
“Super, something to mull over in the downtime I don’t have. Anything else?”
“Nope, other than that I think Chernobog would appreciate it a little more than she’s saying if you wouldn’t kill her son.” Heard voices in the background again. “Nope, sorry. She says that it’s up to you, a hundred percent. She just appreciates that you called to check with her first. Unlike some people. And that’s a direct quote.”
“Gotcha. Love to all, be home soon. I sincerely hope.”
Reader hung up. My music turned right back on, yay technology. Now I was listening to “Flip, Flop And Fly” by Indigo Swing. Presumed this was a hint and/or encouragement.
“So, Russell, your mother is not on your side at this precise time.”
“Because you’ve stolen her from me.” He sounded jealous and defeated and more than a little sad.
It was stupid, because he was a killer—the Israelis hadn’t had him locked up for stealing lollipops, after all—and he’d helped kill a lot of my friends and family. And yet, I felt sorry for him. If someone had me at gunpoint and was asking my mother what she wanted them to do, it would crush my heart if she’d said what Chernobog had. My mother would have said to let me live. No, my mother would have offered to take my place. Demanded to take my place. Begged, even, depending on the situation. And my mother didn’t beg. But if I were in this situation, she might, if she thought it was the only way. Because she loved me.
Pulled the gun away from his head. He gaped at me. Heard Jeff grunt in a very annoyed way that I was, due to being me, very familiar with. Shrugged. “Dude, I can kill you any time, and my arm’s tired. Plus, I have a bunch of men with me who will be more than happy to kill you if I don’t feel like it.”
“So, what are you waiting for?” he asked in a low voice.
“Honestly?”
“I’m dying to hear what it is, myself,” Jeff said, sarcasm knob at eleven and threatening to go for twelve.
“Many things, really. But, first off, I want my friends out of suspended animation.”
“Not Butler!” Christopher shouted.
“Um, okay, why not?”
“I think it’s all that’s keeping him alive.”