Keisha didn’t want to go. She put it off as long as she could, and nobody pushed the issue while Europe was still in tatters and the Russia situation was still fluid. That earned her two weeks’ paid vacation, more or less, with no duty more dire or distressing than keeping tabs on three teenagers in the boondocks of the UK. She had a couple of nice long walks and talks with Nadia, saw a few decent movies and a lot of bad ones. After a week, the girls got bored, and started trying to teach her to sew for some reason. Ruslan progressed to simple sentences, and stopped needing the wheelchair at all. Life was pleasant, pointless, and good.
Eventually, though, somebody at the Numenate noticed and/or cared that she hadn’t been doing a blessed thing, and called her and her three children-of-mass-destruction back to DC. Once the decision was made, she could only put it off for a day or two, while they arranged cover stories and false identities. Then it was back to the White House for a very awkward debriefing.
They came in to John Birch International on a chartered jet. It landed at 1742 local time—close to midnight back in Britain, where their internal clocks had adjusted. The kids took it better than she did; she’d forgotten how late she’d liked to stay up in her teenage years. They weren’t all that impressed with their (potential) new home, and she hurried to remind them, between yawns, that D.C. wasn’t the whole country, and that there were millions of square miles out there that weren’t all looming skyscrapers and black asphalt.
Arthur Dawes received them in the Oval Office, where they found him leaning against one corner of the Resolute desk instead of sitting behind it, his hands in his pockets. He managed to make it look natural, nothing like the calculated pose it must have been; the man was barely fifty, and famously energetic. His first words when they came in were, “Good, you’re here. I just want a quick talk, then you can all get to bed. How was the flight?”
“Oh, you know,” Fatima answered before Keisha could. Her eyes roved over the room in a way that managed to suggest she was casing the joint. “Once you’ve been on one flight, they’re all the same. Nice place, by the way.”
Dawes gave her half a smile. “It’s a rental. You’d be Fatima, I take it?”
“Fatima, Nadezhda, and Ruslan,” Keisha hurried to answer, pointing to each in turn.
“And you, of course, are Keisha Graham. Outstanding work, getting these three out.”
“And all by herself,” Nadia noted. “Unless you count that awful fat man.”
“Nah, she had other help,” Fatima corrected her. “From the Russians. Sons of bitches just let us go, at the end. Never did find out why. Any ideas, Mr. President?”
Dawes kept smiling, but he gave Keisha an incredulous look. “You rehearse all this?”
“No, sir. Children, please stop sassing my boss, the leader of the free world.”
“Hey, it’s fine. I get worse from Congress, and they use more words. At least these three don’t waste my time.” He stood up and clapped his hands. “Might as well return the favor. Unfortunately, the exact reasons why Ardent’s emissor allowed you to go free must remain classified, but I hear you’re clever kids, so you might as well speculate. The answer you come up with probably won’t be too far from the truth. And if it isn’t, good news—it doesn’t matter. I have no intention of sending any of you back into Russian territory again. Ever. Not with them wanting you so bad.”
“Gee, thanks,” said Fatima.
“You’re welcome. But I didn’t bring you here to tell you that. Ms. Graham, with your help, killed two Russian emissors. Their emissants have since been reclaimed.”
“They gave Snowdrop and … “
“Kist,” The President supplied.
“They gave Snowdrop and Kist to children, too?” Nadia said.
“Sure. First because they’re valuable, second because they needed to save face. They can’t just admit that a Knyaz and an oprichnik got wasted by foreigners, can they? No way. Anybody says that, they can pop out the familiars to prove ‘em wrong. In fact, both have already been used, very conspicuously, since you left Kazakhstan.”
“And you are telling us this why?” Nadia demanded. “To try and make us hate Russia more, or take your side?”
“Well, no, I figured you’d take my side because I’m the reason you’re not strapped to a lab table pumped full of drugs right now. But if that’s not enough, they had to find substitutes on short notice. So they recruited local. The new masters of Snowdrop and Kist are Russian, Orthodox, Kazakh-national children, a little younger than Nadia there. A girl and a boy. And, as it happens, we have a way to get in contact with these children. Indirectly.”
“And get them out?” Nadia said.
Art Dawes shook his head. “I don’t think that’s practical. Their families are being held hostage. No, they’ll be staying there, and playing their part. But we’re in contact with their new handler, who is … sympathetic to our goals, here in the US.”
“How’d you manage that?” said Fatima.
“Classified,” Dawes replied at once. “And you don’t need to know. All I’m going to tell you is that I’m quite confident in this man’s loyalty. We can’t actually tell these kids their buddy is ours; too dangerous for him. But we will be getting regular, detailed reports on them, and how they’re coping with their new situation. We have two of those reports already. Got a whole team of analysts going over them. But I’d like to add two or three more to the team.”
Fatima smirked. “You mean us?”
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“You know anybody else who’s got your level of experience with their situation? Yes, you. It’s very important to me, and to America, that those two children don’t do anything crazy.”
“Why, though?” Nadia said. “Wouldn’t America benefit if Russia went through the chaos and humiliation of a Knyaz going rogue?”
Dawes grimaced. “Please. I ran on healthcare reform. I never wanted this war. It burns money, it gets American citizens killed, and we have yet to get one damn thing useful out of it. And it started with a humiliated Russia taking a bite out of Turkey. Countries are like little kids that way; you humiliate them, they lash out, do stupid shit they regret later.
“If we play our cards right in the Kremlin, we could get a face-saving withdrawal from Istanbul by the end of the year, and a new focus on internal economic development. That’s going to be hard enough to manage from my end; the particular bit of stupid shit your fellow-countrymen pulled in Texas has plenty of my voters still howling for blood. If one of those kids does the same thing to the other Knyazya that you did to your Papa Titus—hell, I don’t even want to think about it.” He shook his head. “What a fuckin’ mess.”
The girls looked at each other. Nadia spoke up first. “And you don’t want to deploy us?”
“Jesus! You out of your mind? Why the hell would I do that?” He started ticking off reasons on his fingers. “First, I can’t have you captured, like I said. Second, everybody and their brother knows your names and faces now. We’ll have a hell of a time even keeping you concealed here in the States. Third, everybody and their brother knows your emissants belong to kids, so I’ll look like a goddamn kiddy-pimp every time you show up in the news. Fourth—and please don’t take this personally—you don’t really have the kind of cool, detached judgment we expect from our agents in the field. I mean, I understand Romeo there keeps losing his shit and killing the people he just healed. What am I supposed to do with that?”
“If you really want our cooperation,” Nadia told him, “you could be nicer about it.”
“Oh, I’m being nice. I’m just not trying to be your daddy, or your friend. Why should I? I just met you. I’m doing you the courtesy of treating you the same way I treat everybody else I deal with. As a matter of simple respect.”
“I can live with that,” said Fatima. “So: no deployments, just a ‘consulting’ gig. Sounds okay so far. What about research?”
“What about it? I’m going to have Dr. Gus, or any of his colleagues, keep talking to you. That’s it. I don’t want you even pulling your emissants out—ever—inside my borders. Might make exceptions later, with your permission and cooperation, for research purposes. Under very controlled circumstances, in the middle of nowhere where nobody will notice. As far as the public’s concerned, you need to just quietly disappear, so they can forget you were ever a thing that happened.”
“How are we supposed to trust you, when you say things like that?” said Nadia.
“The same way you trust anybody else. It takes time. I’m not asking for an answer tonight. But we are right in the middle of Stillwater coverage here, you know. I could have a couple of guys come in and chloroform you and you couldn’t do a damn thing to stop me. If it comes to that, I could have had all of you quietly killed before you even set foot in this country. But I didn’t. Because I want your input on the rugrats-in-the-Kremlin situation.”
“And if you didn’t need us for that?” Nadia prompted him.
“If I decided you were a threat to my country, then sure, I might have had all of you killed. I still might decide that, at any time, if you give me a reason to think it’s a good idea, or that it needs to be done. But you haven’t yet, and I don’t think you will. Just keep living, like everybody else. Dot your i’s, cross your t’s, pay your taxes, and you won’t get in trouble. You don’t get privileges for being an emissor.”
“All right,” said Nadia. “But that runs both ways. If you give me any reason to think you’ll be endangering or exploiting children, I will find a way to make you regret it, Stillwater or not.”
Dawes laughed. “If you’re going to be living here, you should probably know you just committed a felony.”
Nadia rolled her eyes. “Felonies are nothing; you can add it to my list. I’m serious. You have your responsibilities. I have mine.”
“Yes, and I appreciate that. Nothing special there either. Every one of us has a responsibility to do what he or she can to maintain a just society. I don’t intend to ever give you any reason to pull Chansonne out again. Not until you’re an adult, and I’ll be done with this damn job by then. So it shouldn’t be an issue.”
“See that it doesn’t, Mister President,” Nadia said. Fatima, her arms crossed, nodded her endorsement. “Is there anything else you needed to talk with us about?”
Dawes shook his head. He wasn’t quite managing to hold back a smile. “I didn’t really need to say all this tonight. I just had the time free, and felt like getting it out of the way. I, or my representatives, will be in touch with you by and by. Welcome to the United States. Miss Perkins!” The door cracked open behind them, and a lady in a grey wool suit popped her head in. “Give these three young people an abbreviated tour of the place, would you? I’ve got to have a little private talk with their adult friend. Thank you.”
He went back to sit behind the desk as they filed out, and pulled a bottle of bourbon and two glasses out from one of the drawers. “Drink, Ms. Graham?”
“Not right now, thanks. Please don’t mind the children, sir; they’re like that with everybody.”
“Don’t worry about it! It was cute. Made my day.” He poured himself a shot. “Go ahead and sit down, drink or not. Looking up gives me a crick in my neck. Thank you. So, how much have you told them about, ah, the circumstances surrounding their recovery?”
“Nothing significant, sir. Not enough for them to guess about Ardent’s emissor.”
Dawes paused with the glass halfway to his mouth. “What about him?”
“He’s the contact, isn’t he? The contact, and the new handler for the children in the Kremlin.”
“And you say that because?”
“The ‘Bonanza’ files disclosed Yefimov’s identity, but not his. He didn’t attack the children, and was on hand to recover the two emissants. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out, sir.”
He sighed. “Yeah, and that’s what worries me. I think we’ve got all the cracks sealed, but we’ve thought that before. Too many people know about this.”
“I’d be more concerned about his loyalty. Sir.”
“Nah. If he pisses us off, we forward the e-mail to the Kremlin, and they’ll be giving Ardent to one of their kids like a party favor. He’ll behave, because he has to. Anyway, the two people you brought in gave us a pretty good idea who we’re dealing with. I think he’ll behave.” He tossed back the bourbon, and poured another glass. “Anyway. That’s my problem. The kids are yours, for the time being.”
“All three?”
“For the time being,” he repeated. “Legally, you’ll be their foster parent, unless and until we can come up with something better. Kids need stability and regularity, all that shit. Even if I have to take a scarce emissor off frontline duty to keep an eye on them. You’ll be staying in the States for at least the next four, five years.”
“Looking forward to it, sir.”
“That’s because you’re crazy. Three teenagers who can blow up the city if they lose their tempers? Wouldn’t anybody else take that job. Hell, even my job’s better than that.”
“I’ve been deployed enough, Mister President. It’s about time I put down some roots.”
“We’re going to have to arrange some deep cover for security,” he warned her. “You’re going to have to cut ties.”
“I hardly have any to cut.”
“I guess it’s a match made in heaven, then.” He studied the glass and the bottle for a moment, then looked up. “Go on now, get out of here. See if you can catch up with the tour. Then go get some sleep. You’re going to need it.”
“Yes sir. Good night, Mr. President.”