Curly’s face turned crimson. “But ma’am, Director, you told us to cooperate with anyone Metargon assigned—”
“You are always to use good judgment and discretion in the field, Bonner. Neither you nor Gleason showed good judgment when you held a small child hostage.”
“We were doing what Breen’s man told us, Director,” Curly tried to argue, but Molanu said that could all wait until they were back in Chicago.
The local chief protested on different grounds. He wanted the FBI to look into a charge of kidnapping; he’d already called an agent in the Peoria office to come interrogate Durdon and the two Feds for seizing Lily and Meg; someone was supposed to arrive at any second.
“We’re in the middle of a giant misunderstanding here,” Breen began in his warm baritone. “I don’t think the FBI—”
“Don’t worry about that,” Zeta Molanu told Breen. “I’ll sort it out with the head of the Northern District. I know you were concerned that defense secrets were heading into Iranian hands, which may have made your staff overzealous. We’ll take young Binder in for questioning so we know exactly what he was doing with the Fitora code.”
“No,” Alison said.
“Sunny—” Cordell began.
“No ‘Sunny,’ Dad. I am not a sunshine person. You cannot accuse Martin Binder of stealing the Fitora code. You know he did nothing with the code—Jari Liu told you and me and Vic that there’s not a whiff of interest in the code anywhere on the Net or among our competitors. You know that all Martin’s been doing is looking for what work his great-grandmother did before Granddad stole her design for the ferromagnetic memory core.”
“Sunny, you’ve had a lot of shocks this afternoon,” her father said urgently. “The Warshawski woman got you into something deeper than you could handle. We’ll be filing separate charges against her before we get back to Chicago. Chief—Barrow, is it?—do you have a room where I can be private with my girl?”
“We’re not going to be private, Dad.” Alison’s face was stony, her voice like flint. “If you take any action against Vic or against Martin, I am going to the Board to explain how you’ve been abusing your power. I will vote my shares against you and I’ll get Mom to vote hers, too.”
Breen’s ego was built on the grand scale. He said, “Alison, you’re in shock; we’ll talk when you’re feeling more yourself. We’re going back to Chicago in the Gulf; you can get something to eat in the plane, get a nap and you’ll get over this.”
“No, Dad. I’m not getting over you acting like a rhinoceros on a rampage. It would be such a big help if you listened to anyone. No wonder Mom drinks the way she does; she’s tired of you acting like she isn’t there.”
“Your mother does not have a drinking problem,” Breen said. “It’s very wrong of you to discuss our private home life in public. Haven’t I told you that a thousand times?”
“I tried to warn you about her,” Durdon said. “I told you I didn’t think you could trust her loyalty.”
“We’ll get you to see a therapist, Sunny. You’re suffering from Stockholm syndrome,” Breen said. “Chief Barrow, I think my lawyers have dotted the i’s you need. I’m taking Durdon back to Chicago with me. And you don’t need Alison anymore, either.”
“Dad, I’m staying with Vic and Martin. If you want Durdon to blow them and me up, I guess you’ll give the necessary orders. Or you can talk this Director Molanu into doing it for you; she seems eager to please.”
Under Molanu’s makeup, her face turned a blotchy red. I wondered if she was sleeping with Breen.
“That is enough, young lady!” Breen blazed, grabbing her arm. “You’ll come home with us, you’ll get some therapy and we won’t have any more of this nonsense.”
“Dad, no!” She pulled away and ran to Martin’s side.
Breen seemed finally to realize that he had lost her, at least for the time being. Or he was just worried about how much fuel he was wasting, with the Gulfstream’s engines still running. He let Durdon and the lawyers take him away.
After that, Chief Barrow wrapped things up with us in short order. He was angry at having his authority usurped by Homeland Security; he saw Martin, Alison and me as ranged on his side of the table and gave us his cell phone number—“In case anyone tries to bother you while you’re in town.”
One of his officers drove us back to Dorothy’s house so I could collect the Mustang. Martin wanted to retrieve his great-grandmother’s papers, as well. Dorothy and Meg were less than ecstatic at seeing us again, although they thawed a bit after Alison gave them an earnest apology on behalf of her father and Metargon.