Department 57: Rubies of Fire (23 page)

Andreas turned and pushed the door closed. “You’ve had my transfer papers?”

For answer, Knox touched a paper with one stubby, thick finger. “This? More like an order. From another assistant director, an order. Talk to me, Constant. Tell me what’s going on.”

Andreas used his eyebrow again. “I don’t understand. What in particular do you want me to tell you?” Eyebrows wouldn’t work against Knox. He might have to do some gentle mind-to-mind persuasion. It went against his nature to do it, as he respected Knox, but his first duty was to the Department and Cristos.

Knox faced him. A bull elephant in its prime couldn’t have been more intimidating. “I’ve been doing some research. As soon as Cristos yanked Candy Irving back, in fact. You never left Department 57, did you? You’ve been working for them all this time.”

Andreas shrugged, deliberately casual. “A kind of double-double agent. Cristos knew there was a leak, and it led here. He didn’t want to start stirring the shit, not until he knew more, so he sent me to investigate. Specifically to look for the source of the leak.”

“That’s why you went through the women in the office like a man running out of time? I wondered. You’re a smooth operator, Constant. It took me this long to catch on to what you were doing.” Knox picked up the paper and the one under it. “You’re not the only one who requested an investigation. I don’t like your record. There are gaps.”

You don’t know the half of it
. “My public record is spotty because of the reason you suspect.”

He met Knox’s gaze steadily until his ex-boss’s gaze flicked away, back to the paper he still held in one meaty fist. “You’re a covert operative?”

Andreas nodded. “A field agent. High security level, occasionally employed on assignments the government might want the option to deny. Hence the gaps. You know the score. You were in the field yourself not so long ago.”

“Yes, I was.” Knox didn’t seem surprised that Andreas knew. But then with his security clearance, that kind of information was available to him.

Knox dropped the paper in his hand and reached for another, one of the bunches of papers, some roughly clipped together, adorning the wide expanse of his desk. “Sure. Many ADs have. But not many find a shock like this waiting for them. So you’ve found a leak. Here?” Knox gave a short laugh. “And what did it tell you?”

Instead of answering, Andreas stared at all the piles of paper on Knox’s desk and the film of dust over his computer monitor. “Don’t you use your computer for anything?”

“What? I try not to. I don’t like the thing. I use my laptop normally, and the secure unit when I need to. Why?”

The door opened to the sound of a protesting squawk from Knox’s secretary, but he knew it was Candy who actually entered the room because she sent her mental signature on ahead. It hovered in Andreas’s mind, a red ring around it. Something was wrong. She closed the door and walked across to join Andreas, standing by his side to block the exit through the door. The window led to ten stories of air with a pavemented period at the end of it. Knox wasn’t fortunate enough to have a private bathroom. “It’s not him, Andreas.”

Andreas gave the computer a sharp glance, and then Knox. “I was beginning to come to that conclusion for myself.”

“So is anyone planning to clue me in anytime soon?” Knox jutted his head forward, a belligerent bull preparing to charge.

Candy dropped a computer printout on the desk. “You see that?”

“I see it,” Andreas said. “But I have no idea what it means.”

Candy sighed. “I wish I had a nine-year-old here. They’d get that in a minute.” She bent to point at a number. “You recognize this, right?”

“An IP address.” At least he could get that far.

“The IP address of that computer over there.” She waved a green talon at the dusty screen. “Most departments are networked, so you can do fancy things with them, but every computer still has its own address on the server. And someone’s been using it. Am I right in thinking it’s not you?”

She glanced up at Knox, who shrugged. “I can’t say I’ve used it recently.”

“That’s right. I noticed that the directives coming from your office have a different address, except for a few. And those few are the ones we traced the leak to. Whoever did it knew what they were doing, but they didn’t know enough to spot the trackers the Company puts in all its programs, and the ID labels. Someone has been rerouting the information through this computer, but I had to get inside the system to track it down. That’s why I came. First I traced the leak to the server here with the Department computers. Then I came in to pinpoint the machine. I thought I had, but then I noticed the frequency of use. Always early in the morning or late at night, usually the former.”

“Not many people here are conscientious enough to show up early,” Andreas said.

“I noticed that. So that narrowed it down even more. I thought at first that someone was using the server here as a back door. You know, coming in secretly from outside.”

Andreas exchanged a speaking look with Knox. “She can go on like this all day,” he said. “Cut to the chase, Candy. Do you know who’s been sending the information, and do you know where he or she’s been sending it?”

“Yes to both,” Candy said. “But I want to tell Cristos. I’m sure it’s not Mr. Knox.” Telling that she used his honorific. Giving him his due as an AD.

Knox turned and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “If you think you’re leaving me behind, you’re crazier than a fox. Crazier than a fucking bear, come to that. I’m coming with you.”

As he brushed past Andreas, he touched his jacket, which Andreas had unbuttoned to allow access. His holster flashed into view, and the GLOCK he’d tucked into it. His orders had been to arrest Knox, but it seemed that wouldn’t be necessary anymore.

“I used to have a suit like that,” Knox murmured. “A bitch to get the fit right.” He grinned. “Takes me right back. Okay, let’s go.”

Andreas buttoned his jacket, and they left the building. No need to call for a cop or an armored car to take him in. At least it wasn’t the rush hour. They took a cab.

* * * *

Three quarters of an hour later, they walked into the Department, Knox in tow. He’d just given a single nod after the comments in the office. Andreas had warned Cristos of their imminent arrival, and security waited to let him through.

Knox watched the retinal and hand scans without comment, but stared pointedly back at the Talent glaring at him. “What’s he do?”

“Security check.”

Knox walked on.

He walked between Andreas and Candy as they took the long path through the big office to Cristos’s suite at the end. Andreas opened the door and ushered him through, nodding at Diane. “I called.”

“I know. He’s expecting you.”

“Diane, did I ever tell you what an angel you are?” He winked at her, and Diane laughed. Very few things got her down, and to her, this made up part of an ordinary day. If any day in Department 57 could be called ordinary.

Since Diane had turned white-blonde today, the epithet seemed more appropriate than usual. A symphony of beiges and golds, Diane wouldn’t have looked amiss in a front-row seat at a fashion show. However the smile she threw Andreas was all wickedness. “Welcome to Department 57, Mr. Knox.”

The door opened before they reached it, and Cristos stood in the opening, hand outstretched to greet his counterpart. “I’m glad to see you here, Knox. Just sorry it’s in these circumstances.”

Knox cast a jaded glance around Cristos’s office, with its quiet elegance, the heavy leather sofas. “You did well for yourself. You could get two of my offices in here.”

“Three,” Cristos said.

“A bit more than that,” Knox said. “Don’t kid a kidder.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Andreas watched Cristos handle the difficult Knox with a suavity he couldn’t hope to emulate, although he did his best, and, his appearance more normal for him, he felt more comfortable here. With his people, in his element. Almost family, or as much as he’d ever have.

Cristos led the way to the lounge area where two deep, comfortable sofas framed a long, low table. Unlike Knox’s untidy office, Cristos preferred order. Candy dropped the plain file she’d brought with her onto the table. Cristos glanced at it but said nothing about it. Yet.

“You might have noticed the extra security at the door, Knox, but this whole department is ringed with protective layers. Among other things, we’re a research department, so we have access to state-of-the-art security. We supplement that in our own way.”

Knox grunted. “I noticed. Is this all show, or is there something real in this? I’ve seen a few party tricks, heard a few rumors, but there are always rumors. Do I get shuffled off like anybody else?”

“Oh, it’s real.” Cristos paused to pour coffee. Andreas smelled the rich brew and knew it would be the last for him this day. The sun would set soon. He picked up his cup and cradled it between his hands, warming them before taking a sip and allowing the first, shuddering taste to slip down his throat.

Only Roz tasted better.

With that cup of coffee, his life changed. Right at that moment, in the middle of a situation, right out of the blue, Andreas decided he wouldn’t give in. He’d fight for Roz. She was more than worth it. He wouldn’t give her up unless she told him she didn’t want him and proved it by marrying someone else. Even then he’d make sure she could always find him if she needed him. His love for her would last a lifetime. Even a vampire’s lifetime.

Why then? Why, with a cup of coffee warming his insides, he had no idea. Like the tightening of a nut, he made the decision, and his life became a bit simpler. Yes or no. The decision was up to her, but he’d decided now.

Cristos was explaining some pertinent facts to Bernard Knox. Roused from his brief, though for him earth-shattering, decision, Andreas sipped his coffee and listened.

“Vampires and shape-shifters exist, along with other Talents, humans with extraordinary psychic gifts and others.”

Knox’s thin mouth turned up in a sneer. “Proof? Just the woo-woo experts, or have you any real, tangible proof? I’ve never seen any, and I think you’re kidding yourself. Or providing a screen for something so hush-hush even the black ops boys don’t have a clue. You talking creatures that only come out at night, animals from myth?” He snorted. “Give me the decency of a blank refusal rather than trying to snow me with that.”

Andreas finished his coffee just as the sun dropped below the horizon. He didn’t need to look out the large one-way windows to confirm it. He felt it in himself, the change from human to vampire. “You’re wrong twice over, Mr. Knox.”

Creature of the night, indeed.

Cristos glanced at him, and Andreas nodded. “For starters, some black ops operatives know about us. I’m a vampire. I can prove it if you like. And I’m hungry.” Might as well give him the full show. Knox would only believe what he saw for himself. So let him see.

He pulled in his jaw and let his fangs burst from the protective buds above his ordinary eyeteeth. Just for good measure, he extended his claws in the same dramatic way and pushed his way into Knox’s mind.
“I’m here, right inside you. Do you need any more proof?”

Knox yelped and shot back, so his side of the sofa, which Andreas was sharing, skidded over the hardwood floor. “What the fuck is that?”

Candy joined Andreas in Knox’s head.
“I’m here too. We can read you so far, but no further without your permission or without hurting you.”

Bernard Knox narrowed his eyes, staring at the three people sitting around the coffee table, waiting for his reaction. “I’ve seen some screwy things in my years with the Company. I should know better than to deny anything exists. Even aliens.”

Andreas smiled and retracted his fangs and claws. “I couldn’t tell you about them. I’m no alien.” He withdrew from Knox’s head, his point made, leaving the silent Cristos in possession. “I know what I am, and because I am, I believe. I respect anyone with the flexibility of mind to adapt so quickly to the existence of another species of human.”

“We’re all human,” Cristos said easily. “Different kinds of human exist. That’s all. Why should we imagine that only one kind of human exists and all the others died out?”

Knox recovered his equilibrium remarkably quickly. Or maybe, like a good operative, he was filing it away to deal with later. One issue at a time, and he had to be deeply concerned about what Candy had discovered in his department. “Why tell me all this?”

Candy huffed, taking their attention away. “Yes, why, Cristos?”

“Because I trust him. Because he was on the brink of finding out anyway. Because we need his help.” Cristos turned back to Knox. “There is a spy in our department and in yours. That’s why we need your help. If we’re to trap these people and do it before any more damage is done, we need to work together. I called Candy back because she’s a genius with a computer, and I need her here to track the leak I know is happening but can’t find. We have discrete computer networks here, Knox, as I’m sure you have. Networks that don’t leave the Department. I have one that is connected only by physical cables and is confined to one room. No Internet, no wireless connections. I’d like to bet you have something similar for the most sensitive information you handle. But whoever is our spy revealed information from that network. You have details of consultants, people who have other jobs but who work for the Department when they can. Their names are top secret, known only to me and a few people here, the people they’ve worked with, because some of them are public figures, and some work in highly sensitive situations. I’ve closed my network down until we catch the perp.”

“I’ve got a name for you, Cristos.”

Immediately, all attention turned to Candy. She flipped open the folder and started her spiel again. Unlike Knox and Andreas, Cristos listened attentively to her reasoning and didn’t interrupt her, but she lost Andreas at about the same point she had before. It didn’t matter. He got the principle. Someone clever with computers had rerouted the information they sent, bounced it off various satellites in such a convoluted trail that it had taken Candy until now to get it right. She’d traced it to Knox’s department, then to his personal office, but the times of day the computer was used set off her internal alarms, and she’d done some more work.