“Why do you ask what is next for us?”
“Oh, I just feel that we have established the beginnings of a friendship here, and I want to make sure you are all taken care of, that’s all.”
“You can take care of me,” she said, “by getting me back home.”
Seamus made a face. “Now, that’s going to be tricky,” he said. “I didn’t know much about you until just now.”
By “just now” he meant the conversation that had occupied much of the preceding hour, in which Csongor, assisted somewhat by his comrades, had narrated the remainder of their story.
“So? Now you know all about us,” Yuxia said, trying to sound insouciant. But Csongor knew her well enough, by now, to tell when she was troubled. Her eyes wandered and her face fell.
“I know enough to charge you with a list of crimes as long as my arm, if I were a Chinese prosecutor,” Seamus said. Reacting, apparently, to a look on her face, he became dismayed and held out his hands as if trying to tamp something down. “Not that they would. What do I know? All I’m saying is, think hard before you go running back to China.”
“I’m not going back,” Marlon scoffed. “It is my country and I love it, but I can’t go back.” And he returned to his money-shuffling activities.
“Mystery man,” Csongor said, “what can you do to help us?”
“In the next half hour or so, not so very much,” Seamus returned. “I need to make at least one phone call about our goon with the rifle. And I want to keep an eye on Egdod. He is worrying me a little. But after that, I will try to put something together. Maybe you guys can help us.”
“Who is ‘us’ and what do you think we can help you with?”
“The good guys and killing Jones.”
“I am all about killing Jones,” Yuxia volunteered, holding up her hand like a little girl in school.
Csongor, raised from birth to be a little more cautious in his utterances, only took this under advisement. But he did ask, “Why are you worried about Egdod?”
“He has reverted to his bothavior.”
“Which is?”
“Trying to walk home,” Seamus said. “And home, for him, is, like, five thousand miles away.”
“What does this mean?” Yuxia asked.
“It means that Richard Forthrast’s computer crashed, or he lost his Internet connection.”
“Maybe he just went to sleep,” Yuxia said.
“Yes, or maybe he’s having coffee with whoever was ringing his doorbell, and his computer went to sleep,” said Seamus. “But in the meantime, the most powerful character in all of T’Rain is wandering around the world on autopilot.”
“So what are you going to do?” Yuxia asked.
“Maybe tag along. Like escorting a drunk president home after a long night in the bar.”
“Didn’t you say you had to make a phone call?”
“I have been trained by the United States government,” Seamus said, “to do more than one thing at a time.”
“TURNABOUT IS FAIR play,” said a disgustingly cheerful voice, with a South Boston accent, on the other end of the line.
Olivia groaned. “What time is it?”
“Something like five, where you are. Not that bad. Up and at ‘em.”
“What is happening?”
“Just a little update for you. I can’t say everything I’d like to, because of where I am. But I found them, and I’ve been hanging out with them, and oh so much has happened in the magical world of T’Rain while you have been getting your beauty sleep.”
“You physically found them,” she said, sitting up in bed. Outside, it was still dark, and she could see the lights of downtown Vancouver out the windows of her room. “You’re where they are.”
“Yeah. Courtesy of the Philippine Air Force and a lot of favors that had to be called in.”
“That is splendid work,” she said. “I knew you were smarter than you looked and acted.”
“Just as dumb as everyone thinks, actually. Just a matter of following a big fat easy lead.”
“Have you had a chance to talk to them?”
“In a manner of speaking. I’ve heard their story. Quite a yarn. That’s not important now, though.”
“What is important now, Seamus?”
“There may be some action at your end today. Thought I’d let you know.”
“In Vancouver?”
A pause. “Shit, I’m sorry, I forgot you went to Vancouver.”
“So … the action is going to be in Seattle?”
“Maybe. As a by-product of what just happened, we got a photograph of one of Sokolov’s henchmen there. A few days after the main thing went down, he went back and broke into Peter’s place and stole a rifle out of a gun safe.”
“What does that have to do with—”
“Nothing,” he said.
“That’s what I thought.”
“It’s a total red herring, as far as finding Jones is concerned.”
“So why are you waking me up to tell me about it?”
“Because I thought you were still in Seattle, working with those FBI agents,” Seamus said, “and I just wanted to let you know…”
“… that they were going to be dealing with this.”
“Yes.”
“That the investigation down there is going to get derailed and distracted by this red herring.”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you,” she said. “As it happens, I’ll be doing something else today, though.”
“And what might that be?”
“Driving up to Prince George to look for strategically located security cameras. Begging their owners to let me see footage.”
“Have fun with that.”
“What’s on your agenda, Seamus?”
“Figure out what to do with this traveling circus.”