“Would not a botch be defined as Kropp’s demise?”
“We’ve been busy enough with the hospital attack and the incident on the interstate. Now Medcon has a downed Company chopper to deal with.” Medcon was OIPEP-speak for “Media Control,” the part of the Company that invented cover stories for its operations.
“Unavoidable,” Nueve said archly.
“I don’t want to interrupt,” I interrupted. “But do you think maybe I could change my clothes before we leave?”
Like the sun bursting through the clouds, Abby’s brilliant smile returned. “Of course, Alfred. This way.”
She put her arm around my shoulder and we walked toward the back of the hangar. A wooden staircase led up to an office suite with a large window that overlooked the bay.
“I understand you’ve had quite the time of it since I saw you last,” she said.
“That’s putting it mildly,” I said.
“You’ve made a wise decision, Alfred. At least in regards to the Seal—but I wonder about the wisdom of your asking price.”
“I made a mistake,” I said.
She turned to me at the top of the stairs.
“Before I sent him back to the Holy Vessel,” I went on, “the demon king showed me this vision . . . He offered me what I’m asking for now, only I told him no, because the price was too high.”
“What was the price?”
“His freedom.”
She gave me a long, quizzical look. “That’s it, isn’t it, Alfred? Freedom.”
I nodded.
“Nueve won’t play straight with me, Abby, but you always have. If I give you guys the Seal, you’ll keep your promises, won’t you?”
She smiled, and this time her smile was of the sad variety, and then she put a hand on my cheek.
“As long as I am director,” she said, which was as ironclad a promise as I was probably going to get.
She opened the door and I saw Mr. Need
lemier’s bald head rushing toward me, his stubby arms flung wide. He bumped Abby out of the way and buried his chubby baby face into my chest.
“It’s okay, Mr. Needlemier,” I said. “I’m fine.”
“Thank God!” he cried. “When they lost contact with the helicopter I feared the very worst!”
Nueve stepped into the room, his dark eyes lighting up at the sight of Mr. Needlemier.
“Ah, the lawyer. Excellent!” He turned to Abby. “The plane is ready, Director. We can affect the exchange.”
“In a moment,” Abby Smith said. She was still aggravated with him. “Alfred is changing first and meeting his extraction coordinator.”
“My what?”
“This way, Alfred.”
“I’ll wait right here,” Mr. Needlemier whispered.
Abby led me into another room. A girl with skin the color of copper, blond hair, and huge blue eyes was sitting on the sofa. She stood up when she saw me.