Stanton loomed over us. “Charles, you can go now.”
“May I stay with my sister? I might be able to help her explain what happened.” He blinked up at her, making his eyes look very round and sad.
I huffed. “I can explain what happened, I’ve been trying to explain—”
He shoved me with his elbow to get me to shut up.
This wasn’t worth it. George wasn’t worth it. Maybe I’d imagined the whole thing. At least I wished I had. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have stayed in my room. I should have stayed on Mars.
Stanton let Charles stay, and the security guy made us all go to an office in the back of the lobby. One of the hotel staff was there, along with a wall full of video screens where multiple images of the lobby, from several points of view, played out. Finally. I sat back, arms crossed, and waited to be vindicated.
The hotel person fast-forwarded through the various videos until the time stamps read a half hour before I called the alarm.
Charles leaned forward to study the one screen that looked across to the door. About twenty minutes before I pulled the alarm—maybe fifteen before I’d walked into the lobby—George came in from outside, accompanied by the man in the overcoat. The man held tight to his arm and leaned forward to mutter something into his ear. George scowled and crossed his arms. I searched the overcoated man’s hands—and yes, he was holding something that looked like a weapon.
“There, do you see it?” I said, jumping up and pointing. Charles grabbed me and pulled me back to my chair.
The scene played out to the moment when I stepped out of the elevator and saw them. The second man walked in, and they dragged George out.
“That doesn’t seem right,” Stanton said.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!”
The other two officials played with the video until the faces of the two men, and the shock guns in their hands, were visible.
“Do you recognize these men at all?” the security guy said to the three of us, and we shook our heads. “Do you have any idea who might want to take the boy?”
Stanton said, in a tone that expressed disgust that they didn’t already know this, “George Lou Montes’s father is on the cabinet of the South American Alliance. Other cabinet members have been receiving blackmail demands from crime syndicates in the region. Perhaps one of them thought George would make an easy target. I’d start there.”
So, Earth: not quite the perfect place everyone made it out to be.
“If that’s the case,” the officer said, “we should be getting a ransom notice. We’ll monitor incoming messages here at the hotel. We’ll have to notify the boy’s family—”
Stanton said, “Surely it would be better to find the boy first, before unduly worrying his family.” She folded her hands together and gripped tightly. Her smile was strained. This sure wasn’t going to reflect well on the school, was it? Made me suddenly wish, again, that I hadn’t reported it, because how bad would that have looked, George being gone for hours and no one noticing? And did I really want George back? Well, too late now.
The security officer frowned. “I’ll get these images to security. They’ll be able to initiate a search. We’ll find him quickly, don’t worry. But we’re contacting his family. Why don’t you all go back to your rooms and get some rest.”
Both the security office and the hotel staffers were looking pretty ashen. Yeah, a lot of people’s reputations were on the line with this one.
Stanton repeated the order. “You two get back to your rooms. You’ve done all you can here. More, really.” The statement was an accusation.
“I had to do something, I wasn’t going to just stand there,” I argued.
“I suppose you expect some sort of medal?” she said.
“I don’t expect anything,” I muttered.
“Good. Because you’re still restricted to your room. Stay there this time.”
We retreated, and as soon as the lift doors closed, Charles started talking. “Something’s not right. Those two guys in the security vid, the kidnappers—they’re not acting right.”
“How should they be acting?” I prompted.
“Don’t you think it’s odd that they’re not doing anything to disguise their identities? They came into the lobby and posed, almost as if they wanted the vid to see them clearly. They had to know the security footage would see them.”
“But that would mean they want to get caught,” I said. He didn’t say anything to that, which meant I’d gotten it right. “But that’s messed up. Why would they do that?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it? They may be trying to send a message to George’s family, or to the hotel, or to security, or to the rest of us. At any rate, it means George probably isn’t in real danger.”