Jenny Plague-Bringer(123)

“I had to follow a very difficult order,” Ward told him. “One of the most difficult of my career. You see, the top brass have decided that paranormals are a threat on par with terrorists, a lone individual capable of doing widespread damage or otherwise breaking national security. Those who are not with us are considered ‘against us.’” Ward watched him closely.

“I understand. But I’ve been working with you, sir.”

“And that’s what makes you so valuable. You’re willing to do the right thing, to put the bigger cause ahead of yourself. Not everyone’s willing to do that.”

“Is this about Jenny, sir? Or Seth?”

“I’m afraid it’s about Esmeralda.”

“She’s not a threat to anyone!” Tommy said. “Her power isn’t dangerous, like Jenny’s. Or mine.”

“That’s not exactly the case,” Ward told him. “Imagine if she got her hands on the body of a high-level politician, military leader, or intelligence operative.”

“That’s not very likely,” Tommy said. “All she does is put funeral makeup on dead people in Los Angeles. She’s not working in Washington, D.C. or anything.”

“If we can determine her power, then so can foreign governments, including those unfriendly to our country. So can criminal and terrorist groups. Any of them might kidnap her and use her for their own ends.”

“You make it sound like she’s in danger.”

“Exactly right. ASTRIA is not the only organization searching the world for paranormals. There are enemies of the United States doing the same. After the Fallen Oak incident, the Pentagon does not want any of them running wild, anywhere. ASTRIA’s role is to identify, recruit...or neutralize.”

“Neutralize?” Tommy felt panicked. “Esmeralda? You’re not going to hurt her, are you? Or...” Tommy couldn’t bring himself to say kill her. He felt the beginnings of rage inside him. If these people had killed Esmeralda, he was never going to work with them. He would take out as many as he could before they killed him.

“No, no. I have clearance to do that, you understand, but like you, I couldn’t see how Esmeralda was a bad or dangerous person. So I took the only other option available: capture her, since she refused to come willingly.”

“You’re going to kidnap her?”

“We have taken her into custody,” Ward told him. “And she’s been transferred here.”

“Here?” Tommy felt a confused mixture of outrage and excitement. “She’s right here at the base?”

“Confined in a cell, unfortunately,” Ward said. “I wish she had agreed to come when we asked her, but she didn’t leave us any choice. We are taking good care of her, though, and she has shown some willingness to cooperate with tests. There’s potential there, but we need to bring it out.”

“Let me talk to her,” Tommy said. “I’ll explain what you’re really doing here.”

Ward paused for a minute, as if thinking this over carefully. “Do you believe she will listen to you? We don’t want to upset her.”

“She’ll listen,” Tommy said. “Maybe not right away, but if I can keep visiting her, keep talking to her...She’s not stupid. She’ll come around.” Tommy had no idea whether she would ever agree to work with them, but he was dying to see her again.

“It might help her along, seeing a familiar face,” Ward mused. “Having someone she trusts to comfort her.”

“I’ll take care of it, sir.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Ward turned his attention to his computer screen. “Dismissed.”

Tommy walked back toward his room, but he slowed as he passed the double doors to the third corridor, where he’d seen the conjugal rooms in his flashes of his previous life. It felt strange to think of himself as an S.S. officer, a Nazi...under Ashleigh's control, yet again. He was beginning to wonder how many lifetimes he’d spent being manipulated by her, even while immune to her actual power.

He pushed on the doors, and felt mildly surprised when one of them opened. He walked into the third corridor, wondering if all the luxurious furnishings were still here, the old phonographs waiting to play German chamber music.

He opened the door to the first room. It was empty, stripped down to the bare concrete, with a huddle of cardboard boxes and trash bags in one corner, all the beauty long since carted away by either the Nazis or the Soviets who came after them.

Tommy crossed the room, his sneakers echoing like heavy boots against the floor. He found the little hole in the wall, which had generally gone unnoticed, lost between the curlicues of a fancy mirror frame. He closed one eye and looked through it, but there was only darkness on the other side.