"Good. I'm the new guy; they'll look at me."
"I doubt it. It's gone on since Hamm's predecessor, and they know it. I took him out, by the way. It was business and pleasure. He tried to pass me around like a party favor."
"That house fire. I heard the sad story. Sounded like your handiwork, Smoke."
She smiled and said in a whisper, "That's better than 'funbunny." You know I wouldn't do the pillow recon if it wasn't for all this shit. The next incendiary device is going down Hamm's pants, then I'm blowing town."
"I'll try to light a fire of my own."
"Be careful."
"Sounds like the orders are to be destructive. That doesn't always go along with being careful."
"Well-"
"Ali, there's something you could do for me. Sort of a last request."
"Still Hornied up?" she said, incredulity written in block capitals on her forehead. "I thought that tall drink of water took care of you. Dream on."
He went back to sign language: "Get me whatever you can on Xray-Tango. He used to serve on the plains. He might even be semi-friendly."
"That'll be tricky," she signed back. "I don't even know who's got the intelligence archives."
"Anything you can get me would help," he said.
"I'll see if I can get a message out. Maybe some Wolf can find you with the answer. How important is this?"
"It's important to me. He's got some strange qualities. Makes me think a parent of his might have been a Hunter. Sometimes things get passed down."
"I'll do what I can."
Valentine stood up. "That's always more than enough."
"Thanks, Ghost."
"Keep it safe, Smoke."
She gave him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. "I've missed working with you, Val," she breathed in his ear. "You're one of the good ones."
Without further explanation, she left.
Valentine picked up his clothes, and looked around RC's shared room. There was a tiny stuffed bear sitting on a shelf in the closet above where the silk cocktail dress hung. He wondered about the little girl it had once belonged to.
* * * *
He realized he was whistling as he descended the stairs, strangely buoyant. There was sunshine above New Columbia, though the clouds were building as they crept in from the west, but something more than the sun cheered him. RC had brought him an egg-and-toast breakfast after her bath, returning to the half-servant, half-girlfriend manners of the previous night. The taste of fresh eggs and butter wasn't it either. Perhaps it was just the knowledge that Ali was alive and well, and around to help. Despite the hangover he felt as though a door had been thrown open inside him; the world was giving him another day and another chance.
It crossed his mind that it could be the prospect of action. He'd been nervous and breathless since Duvalier's update; plans began to form in his head immediately, and with that momentum his mind shifted to a higher gear. He felt damnably close to precognitive, like a gambler pushing all his winnings onto the green double zero on the roulette table knowing the ball would fall to mat slot on the next spin.
Raise a ruckus... raise a ruckus ... Duvalier's words ran through his head like the trumpet's flourish in her rollicking song from last night. He realized where the tune he was whistling had come from.
He made his way through the alley, past the rat-infested Dumpster, and out into the spring sunshine. General Hamm, Reeves and a few of his other officers were enjoying a cafe breakfast outdoors.
"Coffee's hot, Le Sain, join us," Hamm called.
Valentine grabbed an empty chair. "Thank you. Just one cup, though. I've got to get across the river, General. The battalion is probably wondering what happened to me."
"They'll survive a few more hours. We had some funny business in the night, Le Sain. You've got some mud on your collar, by the way." Hamm stared at the stain for a moment, then continued. "One of my officers was taken away, and I don't like it. Williams. You remember him?"