Sleeper cells of domestic terrorists. This investigation was getting better and better. "How do you know all this?"
Andrea bit her lip. "Becker was a knight of the Order."
If the Keepers infiltrated the Order, it would be impossible to find them. With their anti-magic attitude, they would fit right in. Someone like Ted would welcome them with open arms. Hell, Ted could be one of them. I would have to be very careful now, because I very much wanted Ted to be involved. So much so that if I wasn't careful, I'd twist reality to implicate Ted, whether he was guilty or not.
"They infiltrated the Order and the PAD," Derek said. "De Harven was a cop before he was a guard."
"It could literally be anyone. It could be Rene." Andrea waved her arms. "It could be Henderson. Anyone."
"Not anyone," I said. "I'm not one, you're not one, neither is Derek. I'm reasonably sure we can exclude Curran and the kid as well."
Ascanio grinned.
Andrea stared at me. "You're not taking me seriously!"
"That's probably because you're not excited enough," Derek said. "You should clench your fists like they do in the movies, shake them, and yell, `This is bigger than any of us! It goes all the way to the top!' "
Andrea pointed her finger at him. "You shut up. I don't have to take shit from you. From her, maybe. But not from you."
"I trust your professional judgment," I said. "If you say there is a secret society, then there is one. I'm simply trying to define the boundaries of our paranoia. Did all the other incidents involve more than one person?"
"Yes."
I thought out loud. "If de Harven was a member of the Lighthouse Keepers, then he'd been activated to obtain Adam Kamen's device, which means we can expect there to be an entire cell."
"Probably."
"The optimal size of a terrorist cell ranges between seven and eight members," Derek said. "Groups below five members lack sufficient resources, manpower, and flexibility, while a group above ten begins to fracture due to specialization. Larger groups require managerial oversight to remain cohesive. That's difficult to do while the cell is in sleeper status." I closed my mouth with an audible click.
Derek shrugged apologetically. "I spent a lot of time with Jim."
"So we can expect between five and ten people?" I asked.
"Probably closer to five," Derek said. "Especially since de Harven is dead. However, that's assuming that we're dealing with a single cell. They may have more than one cell in a city the size of Atlanta, and they also may mobilize neighboring cells if their goal is vital enough."
Nobody would awaken a sleeper cell for something minor, not when its members have been dormant for years. "How many people can we expect if they threw caution to the wind and moved all available cells in?"
Derek frowned, concentrating. "I'd guess between fifty and three hundred. The more people, the less cohesive the group. If I were them, I'd rely on hired muscle. Not every job has to involve the entire cell. Some targets can be eliminated by a contract killer, for example. It minimizes the risk and the exposure--if the job goes sour, the killer can only betray one member of the group."
Andrea rocked back and forth. "What the hell was Kamen building in that workshop?"
"I don't know. But I know someone who does. He's tied up in our loup cage."
I strode to the loup cage, Andrea, Derek, and Ascanio in tow. I took the key off the hook in the wall and unlocked the door.
The loup cage stood empty. Perfectly intact rope lay in coils on its floor. It was still tied.
Derek looked slightly ill. I'd seen this precise look on Jim's face when a teleporting thief stole the Pack maps a few months ago. "How the hell ..."
"Magic," Ascanio said.
"The tech is up." I tried the cage door. Locked. "Neat trick."
"Next time we'll chain him to the wall," Andrea said.
"There won't be a next time." He wouldn't let himself get caught again. At least, not this easily.
Derek walked off. "The back door is unlocked," he called out.
Well, at least we knew he didn't evaporate into thin air.
We'd failed to find Kamen, we'd failed to recover the device, and the only person who could shed light on what was happening had disappeared from a locked cage while in our custody. It was good that I owned the damn place, or I might have had to fire myself.
"His stick is still here," Ascanio said, holding up the volhv's staff. Ha! Gotcha. "Bring it here." I headed to the back room, opened the door of the body freezer, and stuffed the staff into it.
"What are you doing?" Andrea asked.
"A volhv without his staff is like a cop without a gun. He'll come back for it. The office is a fortress, so he won't be able to get in during tech. He'll return during magic, when he's at his strongest. I've warded this freezer so hard, it would take MSDU to get through it. When he returns, we nab him." And this time he would stay put.
THE TRAFFIC HOME WAS MURDER. IT WAS SEVEN fifty-five by the time I pulled into the parking lot and sprinted across the yard. I conquered the hallways, and I and my files headed downstairs, two steps at a time.
I was almost to the landing when Jezebel, the second of my boudas, barred my way. Her eyes blazed bright red. She looked ready to spit fire.
"I know, I'm late." I put some speed into it, hoping my knee held up.
Jezebel chased me, keeping up with ridiculous ease. "I'm going to rip their heads off and skull-fuck them."
That would be something to see, especially since she didn't have a penis. When Jezebel got worked up, getting her to explain things was next to impossible. I'd been learning to guess. "Who?"
"The wolves," she snarled.
Not again. "Which of the wolves?"
She bared her teeth. "I'll cut her legs off."
So Jennifer was involved. Of course. During my aunt's rampage, Jennifer, the female half of the wolf alpha pair, made an executive decision not to evacuate. My aunt attacked the wolf safe house in the city while Jennifer was out, and her magic caused the whole house to go loup, including Jennifer's twelve-year-old sister Naomi. When I ran into the house, hoping to kill my aunt, Naomi attacked me and I ended her life. Jennifer blamed me for her sister's death. The wolves went out of their way to stick it to me whenever they could. They turned it into almost a game.
The auditorium door loomed before me. Two minutes to eight. "We'll talk about it after."
"Kate?"