Jeremy Pierce was sweating bullets when they pulled up to the American Border crossing at Detroit.  I know Mr. Vargas said it would be no problem, but I don’t have a frikking clue as to how?  He claims he doesn’t need a passport?  What the hell - do reptoids even use ID?  I know… when he’s arrested, I claim I’m just the driver and don’t have any idea what he’s mixed up in – which is pretty much the truth of the situation, I think.  Maybe I won’t be arrested as well.

 

The line at the border was long, but was moving fairly quickly.  After only ten minutes, they reached the gateway and were questioned.  “Can I see your Passports please?”  The border agent looked big, humorless and intimidating. 

           

“Sure thing, officer.  Just a second.”  Pierce said, handing him his passport.

 

“And the purpose of your visit?”

 

Vargas smiled. “Pleasure.  We intend to go to Utah and look at the churches.”

 

“And your passport, sir?”  The border agent was starting to get annoyed.

 

“You don’t need to see our passports.”  Vargas said, staring into the man’s eyes, and touching a fraction of his power in the form of mind magic.  “Everything is in order.  Simply stamp his papers and allow us on our way.”

 

The guards eyes glazed over for a moment, and he nodded.  “Everything looks great!  Enjoy your stay in the United States, sir.”  Pierce watched in amazement as the surly border guard stamped his passport and handed it back to him…  What the hell was going on?  Why wasn’t he arresting Vargas and his men?  Oh shit – what if they have some sort of psychic mind-control?  He wondered.  They must!  Oh shit!

 

Vargas was about to motion for Jeremy to continue driving – but paused.  “Oh sir?”  he asked.  “In case we’re followed by two women – Erica – a pretty girl with long red hair, and Maeve Varda, you should know that they’re terrorists with that middle-eastern group that’s on the news lately.  They might have friends with them too.  Bad people.  Do you understand?”

 

The glazed man’s eyes blinked, and he nodded.  “Sure do sir – we’ll keep an eye out for those terrorists, definitely.  Have a good trip in the USA, sir.”

 

Pierce sat there, his mouth agape.  Vargas tapped his hand, pointed and said simply “Drive.”  Not having a better idea on what to do, he threw the car in gear and drove.  A few seconds later they were on the interstate headed west towards Chicago, and fully in the USA.

 

What just happened?  Pierce worried.  These guys have some sort of psychic power now too?  I am totally boned.   He drove onward, trying not to consider how screwed he felt he was, hoping he could find some way out of this before he got in any deeper with the alien reptoids he was chauffeuring.  As he drove, one thought kept working its way into his mind: who the hell was this Maeve Varda and her friend Erica, that he was afraid of them?

 

*           *           *

 

            Marcus turned his car into the driveway of Ms. Vallan’s home at 117 Nipigon avenue, and turned off the engine.  The passenger in his car – Detective Saul Hancock, a new detective to the force was accompanying him.  “Keep your eyes and ears open, Saul – there might be a hostage, and they might be armed and dangerous.  We’re gathering information – so let me take the lead.”

 

            Saul nodded.  When the Detective Inspector said to do something, it was a wise man that just shut up and did it.  “Sure thing, Inspector.  I’ll just act as backup.”

 

            “Thanks.”  Marcus got out of his car, leaving his hat inside because of the excellent weather, and ran his fingers through his silvering hair.  And once more, I still got it, he thought with a smile.  Thank god, too – my old man looked pretty odd without hair.  He smiled a bit at his vanity, and closed the car door and headed up to the front of the house.  His partner Saul kept pace with him, silent and a bit behind him to one side.  He rang the bell.

 

            A few moments later, the door opened up, answered by a young woman in her mid to late twenties, who Marcus could immediately see was Christine Vallan – the dossier his office had been sent by the ministry of social services had a good picture of her.  So she is alive!  I’ll be damned.  Maybe we can get some answers?

 

            “Hello, ma’am.  My name is Detective Inspector Marcus Drake – this is my partner Detective Hancock.  We’d like to have a word with you about the events on this street the week of August 15th, and we’d like to know where you’ve been for the last six weeks, and if you know the whereabouts of Eric van Helstrome, one of your case files.”

 

            Christine sighed – she didn’t really look worried, or even particularly stressed out.  More resigned.  “Sure – I can tell you what I know.  Come on in, Inspector.  Could you and your partner leave your shoes at the door?”

 

            It was a bit annoying, but they removed their shoes, and followed her into the kitchen.  The house looked clean – or at least clean-ish.  It certainly didn’t look like a party had happened here recently.  “Have you been back long, Ms. Vallan?”

 

            “No – not really, and please, call me Christine.  I’ve only been home since about Friday.”

 

            “Were you aware of the massacre going on the night you disappeared, both at the Neilson clinic and outside your house on this street?”  Marcus eagerly listened for any tidbits of information he could make use of.

 

            “Of course I was – it was on the news, and when people started screaming, I panicked and hid.”

 

            “Did you see what attacked and killed some of your neighbors?”

 

            “A little – it was terrorists – definitely terrorists.  There was a lot of screaming, and blood.”  Christine couldn’t help but shudder at remembering part of that day – especially the sight of her neighbor’s torso landing on Eric’s stolen police car – minus the rest of his body… 

 

            “How did you know they were terrorists, Christine?”  Marcus asked.  “Did they have strange clothes or anything that could identify them?”

 

            “Not really – I don’t know.  People were screaming and dying all over.  It was very confusing and chaotic.”

 

            “Was Eric van Helstrome here at the time?”

 

            “Yes – he drove up in a police car, babbling about something was killing people at the clinic.  He was quite agitated and panicked, so I calmed him down and we left out the back door – to get away from the screaming people.  Pretty soon he calmed down, and he told me what he thought happened at the Neilson clinic – it was crazy talk.  He was pretty stressed about it.  He said people were being killed by demons, and he stole the car to get away from them.  I guess he was pretty scared, to think terrorists were demons, though.”

 

            “He said he saw demons kill people?”  Marcus asked, a little surprised. 

 

            “That’s what he said.”  Angie said.  “I mean, it’s impossible – he must have been confused, but that’s what he said to me.”

 

            “What happened next?”  Marcus asked.

 

            “I drove over to his sister’s house, where we waited till she came home – and she took him inside.  I decided I needed to get away, so I asked if I could stay at one of Angie’s cottages in the Kawartha’s for a few weeks, and she said sure.  She even lent me a car so I wouldn’t have to come back here.   You can check with her about all this if you like.”

 

            “Thank you, Miss Vallan, I will.  Do you know what happened to Eric after that?  And was there a black-haired woman with him?”

 

            “Yes, and yes.  Her name is Maeve, and I think she’s a friend he met on the streets somewhere.  I think she’s from Kingston, originally.  He seemed to know her.  She was trying to help keep him safe.”

 

            “Is the Angie that you speak of Angela van Helstrome, Eric’s sister?”

 

            “Yeah – we went to school together in Ryerson.  We’re still good friends.”

 

            “So what happened after you left Eric at his sisters?”

 

            “I went up to the cottage and hung out there for a few weeks.  I came back Friday and actually met Eric and Maeve and a few friends of theirs, and we went and did some shopping, then came back here for pizza and chicken to celebrate.  They stayed for a few days and left.  Eric apparently went to a private clinic while I was in cottage country and got sexual reassignment surgery and a few other things done – she’s going by Erica now, and she looks great.”

 

            Marcus raised an eyebrow at that bombshell, and he could tell Saul was too.  “So, were you sure the woman claiming to be Eric was the same person you knew six weeks ago?”

 

            “Totally.  She looked different, but she acted like Eric, and she knew all the stuff he knew.  I talked to Angie later and she confirmed it all.  We even went and visited, and Angie and I caught up.”

 

            “I see.”  This sounds like bullshit - it smells.  “Is he… excuse me, I mean is she still here?”  

 

            “No, sorry.  She and her friends went on a road trip together.  I don’t know where they were planning on going – but they probably won’t be back for a while.  Erica did say she’d try and come back when they were done their trip, though, if that helps any.”

 

            “Some, I think.  Thank you.”  Marcus wondered where exactly Erica and her pals were heading and what they would be doing.  It doesn’t smell right, does it Marcus?  He asked himself.  Of course not…  He couldn’t help but notice Christine was cool as a cucumber, and politely answering his questions without many questions of her own.  Has she been coached?  I wonder.

 

            “Do you feel safe, now that you’re back home, Ms. Vallan?” 

 

            “Yes, for the most part.  It’s really, really good to be home.  That cottage was a bit of an ordeal, in retrospect.”

 

            “Did you know that your office reported you missing, and that you’ve probably lost your job?”

 

            “No, but I assumed I was fired.  Did I do something illegal, Detective Inspector?  I had a lot of time to think while I was away, and I’ve decided to take up a new career – I’m going into holistic foods and herbs.  Natural stuff, I think.  No more social work – it’s too stressful.”

 

            Marcus gritted his teeth.  “No, ma’am, I don’t believe you’ve done anything illegal, but there are a lot of questions I still need answers to.  Would you mind going back to where we began, when you met Erica for the first time, after she got back from her trip to Europe…”

 

            Christine sighed.  “Not at all, detective.  I had just returned home – a friend of Angie’s dropped me off and took the car back to Angie’s – and was unpacking when Erica and her friends arrived.”

 

            “Does this friend of Angie’s have a name?”  Marcus asked.

 

            “Harlan.  Harlan Branscombe.  He was an employee at Angela’s company – I think he worked with Anders van Helstrome before he passed away.”

 

            Marcus took note of the name, and nodded.  “Please continue, Ms. Vallan.”

 

            Marcus wrinkled his nose as Christine Vallan rattled off their itinerary, and couldn’t help but have the feeling that this was all some big show and game for his benefit, and that Ms. Vallan was concealing something she didn’t want him to know.  She’s been coached too – I’m sure of it.  By someone good.

He looked over at Saul Hancock, who looked just as frustrated as he did.  This was going to be a long afternoon…  I just hope James is having more luck than I am.

 

*           *           *

 

            James Cameron wasn’t feeling particularly lucky at that exact moment…  The security office at the Eaton’s center wasn’t exactly huge – and although it was late September, September in Ontario could still be quite warm.  Today was uncomfortably warm, and the office’s air conditioning unit was on the fritz.  The things I go through for my job, James thought.  He’d been at this about an hour already, and seen three women and two men enter some stores and buy some clothes.  One matched Christine Vallan’s description, and one the black-haired woman seen fleeing the scene at the Neilson clinic – but there was no sign of Eric van Helstrome, nor any idea who the two other men travelling with them were.  They know how to fight, too, he thought.  James spent many a weekend studying and learning martial arts, and had gained a brown belt in Jiu-jitsu, and was only a few weeks away from being tested for his black belt.  He knew what the fighters looked like when they walked – and these folks had the look of fighters.

 

            Interesting, he thought.  Who are these people, and where do they come from?  He thought a moment, and called over to a security guard.  “Does the mall have exterior cameras – you know, of the entrances?”

 

            “Yes sir.”  The guard responded.  “We’ve got cameras at each entrance.” 

 

            “Get me the footage of the entrance closest to the north entrance.”  James said.

 

            “No problem sir.”  The guard pulled up the video footage, and displayed it on the police detective’s monitor. 

 

            They bought clothes around 4pm or so on Friday… so they must have arrived at least an hour in advance of that, he thought as he queued up the video.  Let’s see where they came from… Maybe I can get a license plate or something, if I’m lucky?

 

            Detective Cameron watched the video, panning across its field of vision, until he finally saw it – and what he saw he couldn’t believe.  What the fucking hell?!  They just appeared there – like one second not there, and one second they were.  How in the hell did that happen?  “Hey,” he called out to the guard on duty.  “Have these files been tampered with?”

 

            “Um… not as far as I know, sir.  No one bothers even looking as long as there isn’t a problem.  I’d have to ask my supervisor.”

 

            “Then get him down here and ask, right now.”  James said, beginning to sound excited.  It’s just like I heard about on the internet… They beamed down like star trek!  He thought.  It’s like they just came down from … from somewhere!  Holy Crap!  There have to be other cameras that caught this – there are box stores across the street.  I’ll have to cover all the bases here if the Detective Inspector isn’t going to laugh me out of the precinct.  What the hell have I stumbled into?  It could be a prank, but why would someone do it?  No one could have known the police would pull these tapes today.  What the hell is going on?   James rewound the video and played it again…  It happened in slow motion – an empty sidewalk outside the Eaton’s center – suddenly filled by five people appearing from nowhere.  Even the people nearby didn’t seem to notice their abrupt arrival… I have no idea how something like this is even possible, but I intend to find out.

 

            “Can I get a copy of this file?”  he asked. 

 

            “Yeah, no problem.”  The security guard said.  “My supervisor will be here in like five minutes.”

 

            “Good.  Thanks, pal.”  If this isn’t doctored, I don’t really know what I’ve found – but I know it’s Important.  I’d better pull the camera data from any other stores in the area to see if they can corroborate it too.  Odd, he thought as he watched the video.  The two women are trying to comfort the two men and the one woman that looks like Marcus’ hostage.  Are they having a panic attack?  Miss Vallan seems to be in charge, or maybe the cute red-head is?  Hard to tell.  They calm the other three, then lead them inside.  What on earth was going on?   Maybe that was the problem, James thought.  Maybe the problem isn’t on earth at all?  Hell – what if they’re aliens?  It’s gonna be a long day, he thought.  Might as well get to it.

 

*           *           *

 

Erica and the others stretched as they climbed out of the SUV.  The Royal Ontario Museum was only a block or so away.  The parking lot they had found was pricey, but the closest one they could find.  It was shortly after noon, and the weather was making a good impression of still thinking it was summer. 

 

It’s probably only a sconch below thirty degrees.  Erica thought.  Could be worse.  She looked at her friends – and could see they were worried.  I suppose they should be…  Vargas already knows where he needs to go and we’re playing catch up.  Damn.

 

“We don’t have far to go, everyone.  The museum can be huge inside, so stick close to me, okay?”  Erica called out.  “We’re looking for a doctor Kurt Wellesley.  Assuming he’s still alive, we should be able to find out what we need.”

 

“Unfortunately, that is the million-silver question, isn’t it?”  Maeve said.  “Thanks for the translation amulet back, by the way, Sir Andred.  I’d like to be able to understand the doctor when we speak to him.”

 

“No worries, Maeve.”  He said laughing.  “That is what they say here, right?”

 

“Yes, Sir Andred…  They do say that here.”  Erica said laughing.  “If you think it would help, maybe Kai could loan you his amulet – you know more about religion in some ways.”

 

“Aye.”  Sir Andred said.  “But at the same time, I can see much just by watching.  You and Maeve have the gift of gab.  I’ll leave you ladies to it.  Kai, keep the amulet or not as you wish.”  Kai nodded in acknowledgement, and Sir Andred went on.  “I believe I’ll instead try and see if he’s been influenced by evil magic, to see if he may be misleading us, in case Vargas manipulated him.”

 

“Good idea, Andred.”  Maeve said.  “We should go.”

 

The walk was short, but refreshing after being stuck in the car for twenty plus minutes in traffic.  It was obvious that Kai and the others were beginning to adjust to the chaos and noise of Erica’s home world and one of its busiest cities – but it was equally obvious they didn’t *like* it.   Soon they reached the entrance of the museum and went inside.   Erica went over to a customer service desk, and saw a plain young man manning the counter.  “Hello… I have an appointment with Dr. Wellesley at 1pm.”

 

The young man, who was wearing a name tag that said “Terrence” perked up immediately.  “Hello ma’am.  May I get your name?” 

 

“Erica van Helstrome and guests.”

 

“Yeah… I see you’re on the list.  Thank you, miss Helstrome.  I’ll give Dr. Wellesley a call – I’m sure he’ll send someone right down to fetch you.  Great weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

 

“Ummm… thanks. And yes, it is pretty nice for September.”  Erica answered.

 

“Yeah – I can’t bear to see summer leave.  Winter is so miserable downtown, don’t you think?”

 

“Yeah – it can get pretty cold and gloomy.  It was nice meeting you.”  Erica said, a bit bemused.  Normal people never used to talk to me this way before.  Then again, I looked homeless and crazy before so go figure?  This being a pretty girl is going to take a lot of getting used to.   She walked back over to the others to wait.

 

“New friend?”  Maeve asked, smirking.

 

“Let’s just say I’m still not used to how people react to my new body and be done with it, shall we?”  Erica responded.

 

“Fair enough.”

 

A few moments later, a middle-aged man approached the kiosk where Terrence was stationed, and was quickly directed over to Erica and the others.   He was short – perhaps five foot seven, with a bald spot on top of his head, and a neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard.  He wore casual office attire, and looked relaxed and cheerful.

 

“Excuse me,” he asked.  “Is one of you Miss Erica van Helstrome?”

 

Erica smiled.  “Yes, sir – that would be me.  I take it you are Kurt Wellesley?”

 

“I am.  Your sister was most generous to the museum, Miss van Helstrome.  It will be our pleasure to help you in any way we can.  Please, follow me to my office.”

 

            The troupe followed the doctor through the museum, through galleries and halls of ancient artifacts.  Erica tried to focus on the task at hand, but she’d never actually been in the Royal Museum before, and she was hard pressed to keep her eyes on Dr. Wellesley.  Kai and Sir Andred had a similar problem.  It was Maeve who kept them on point, and in step with the doctor, and a short while later, they arrived at his office.

 

            Once everyone had gone inside and found seats, Mr. Wellesley began.  “I understand you need some advice or information on an ancient deity.  Could you tell me which one?  My specialty is in Babylonian and Sumerian history – which is why I believe the museum called on me to meet with you.  I have to admit I am rather curious how someone could have a ‘historical emergency’ that needed my expertise right away.”

 

            Erica laughed a bit.  “My sister is a bit exuberant about these things.  My friends and I are hobbyists, and extremely interested in an ancient goddess known as Tiamat.  We’d like to know what you can tell us about her – especially places that would be sacred to her, and places of power that belonged to her.”

 

            Mr. Wellesley looked a bit confused, but it was obvious that Erica and her sister were paying the Museum’s bills in this matter, so he began.  “Tiamat was an ancient deity of primordial chaos – a water spirit that was sometimes said to be the mother of monsters.  She was so ancient she was considered old in the times of Babylon and Sumeria – and she was the mother of most of the Babylonian and Sumerian pantheon, in conjunction with another god of primordial chaos, Apsu, another deity that often took the form of a serpent.”

 

            He paused a moment, and continued.  “If I had to pick the three likeliest places on Earth that would be sacred to her, I’d say the Tigris or the Euphrates river, which were said to spring from her body, or the Dead Sea, which is a salt sea.  You see,” he said.  “Tiamat was a goddess of creation, but was aspected towards salt water.  Her husband Apsu was aspected towards fresh water – so her power as a creatrix would be most powerful where fresh water – such as the mouth of a freshwater river meets a salt lake or salt flat.”

 

            Erica smiled, and Mr. Wellesley looked encouraged.  “Is this helping, Miss van Helstrome?”

 

            “Yes, very much.”  Erica said.  “Now if we had to limit ourselves to the continent of North America, is there any place that would have a symbolical link to those places – one connected to fresh and salt water?  One with a bit of religious significance?”

 

            “I’m not sure why you’re asking this, but if I had to guess, I’d say somewhere near a salt flat – like Salt Lake City in Utah.  There are freshwater rivers running into the lake – and if that doesn’t work, the Bonneville salt flats aren’t far away.  There may be another choice as well…  The Tigris and Euphrates rivers are the lifesblood of the region in the middle east.  The Mississippi river might qualify if we’re talking the United States of America – especially when it meets the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico.  That area would be a significant confluence of salt and fresh water as well.”

 

            Erica beamed.  “Thank you, so much, Dr. Wellesley.   Could I have a moment with my colleagues?”

 

            “Of course, miss.  I’ll fetch a coffee – I’ll be right back.”   The curator was obviously a little confused as he left the office.  That and curious.

 

            Once he was gone, Maeve didn’t waste any time getting down to brass tacks.  “I think we have what we need.  Can Harlan scout these areas and see if Vargas is there?” 

 

            “Probably.”  Erica answered.  “But we can’t arouse too much suspicion, and the questions we’re asking are pretty odd.  I think I have an idea to explain ourselves – so roll with it.  You too Kai.”

 

            “Huh? Why me?”  Kai asked, looking surprised.

 

            “Cause I might sound a little crazy for a bit – just play along.”

 

            Kai nodded, as did Maeve. 

 

Meanwhile, Sir Andred was watching the many artifacts and objects in the room avidly.  “I think the doctor is a good man.”  He said in Valdan.  “Nothing in the office reeks of evil nor magic.”

 

“That’s comforting.”  Maeve said.  “What do you have in mind, Erica?”

 

“Not sure – probably a long-shot.”  She said.  “But I might as well ask while we’re here.”

 

            Dr. Wellesley returned with his cup of coffee, and coughed to let everyone know he was back.  “Do you and your friends need more time, ma’am?”

 

            “No – I think we’re good doctor.  Can I ask you a few more questions?”  Erica said sweetly.

 

            “Of course.”  He said.  “Where would you like to begin?” 

 

            “Do you have any images of Tiamat, or of what her symbols and holy places would look like?”

 

            “There are some of course, but they’re very old.”  He reached for an old text, and riffled through it.   “Aha!  Here are some images historians have cobbled together of her.  As you can see, she is alternately depicted as a shining woman, a sea-serpent or a dragon.  Here she holds the Tablet of Destinies – a mythical relic that basically declares whomsoever holds it is the ruler of heaven.  The tablet was supposedly taken from her when she was slain by one of her children, Marduk, god of the city, although Marduk could be interchangeable with the deity Enki or Enlil, depending on the region and culture.  They may even be different aspects of the same god.”

 

            “I see.  I guess the history is so old and ancient, no one really knows the details anymore, do they?”  Erica asked.

 

            “Sadly, not really.  We can piece together bits from here and there – but we don’t have everything we want to know.  I suppose until someone invents a time machine, we won’t be able to either.” he said, joking.  “May I ask why you are so interested in this topic?”

 

            Here goes nothing, Erica thought.  “Well, you may know that many people these days follow alternative religions, like goddess worship.  I’m interested in visiting some holy places, and perhaps meditating upon the past and her ancient glory in places she would have found appealing, where her attention might turn if she still existed.  That’s why I asked about symbols and holy places within North America.  A young woman like myself travelling in the middle-east without bodyguards would be putting herself at immense risk.  That, and my sister would totally freak out if I tried to go over there.”  It was amazing how easily the lie came off her tongue, she thought.

 

            “Ah – so you’re a neo-pagan?”

 

            “You might say that I follow the Mother-Goddess, yes.  She and I have developed what I’d like to think as a close personal connection.”  Erica smiled sweetly.  She almost heard as much as felt some laughter that wasn’t hers from within…

 

            Kai sputtered and choked.  “Sorry – I swallowed wrong.  I’ll be fine.”   Maeve smirked, and slapped Kai upside the head.

 

            “Well I don’t know what to say.  You do realize that a lot of that neo-pagan stuff was cobbled together by a bunch of occultists who wanted to make a quick buck – who dumped a dozen or more goddesses and gods from a dozen or more cultures together into one basket and called her a single goddess.  It’s more a hodge-podge of a dozen different faiths rather than one coherent one.  It seems a bit silly to go to the expense you did for this little bit of information, Miss van Helstrome.”

 

            “Well I suppose that may be, in your mind.  I realize many of the weaknesses of my own faith, and that many of the people claiming to know the truth are simply charlatans – but as far as I can see, faith requires you to find your own truth and cleave to it.  I’ll treat what you said about pagans with a grain of salt, if you don’t mind.  I think we have everything we need, Doctor Wellesley.  Thank you.”

 

            “You’re welcome of course, Miss van Helstrome.  I understand your sister will be making an endowment to the museum in return for our little discussion?”

 

            “Yes – and I believe it will probably be a significant one, since you’ve been more than helpful.  Thank you Doctor.” 

 

            “Thank you, Miss van Helstrome.”

 

            With that, Erica and her friends excused themselves, and headed back to the car park. 

 

            “A close, personal connection with the Mother-Goddess?  Really?”  Kai asked as they got outside.  “I thought you wanted to keep a low profile?”

 

            “Yeah, I do Kai – but there was no way on earth he was going to assume I meant literally – he probably thought I was some neo-pagan fluff-head who has more money than brains and is going cross country wasting her sisters money in occult shops and pagan festivals… which is exactly what we wanted him to think.  Think about it.  If we ask weird questions, and he starts asking questions, he could bring us to the attention of the police, and we don’t want that.”

 

            Kai nodded, a little mollified.  “Yeah, you’re right.  Sorry – I just couldn’t help it.”

 

            Maeve smiled too.  “You’re starting to sound like a saint, a bit, Erica.  You should have heard her Sir Andred…  She was all like ‘those with faith have to find their own truth, and cleave to it.’  You would have been proud.”

 

            Sir Andred smiled back, and put a hand on Erica’s shoulder to relax her.  “You misunderstand, Maeve. I am already proud. With every trial she surpasses she justifies my belief in her all the more.  Erica is full of surprises.”

 

            Maeve nodded thoughtfully.  “I suppose you’re right there, Sir Andred.”

 

            Erica sighed, exasperated.  “If we’re all done with the kudos and the commentary, how about we get back to the car and pursue Vargas and his cronies?  He must have at least a half a day head start on us or more – and it’s at least three hours to the nearest border crossing, and it will take us at least a half-hour to get out of the city itself.”

 

            The others nodded.  It was time to get going. 

 

*           *           *

           

            “Thank you for your time, Miss Vallan.  We’ll be in touch if we have any more questions.”

 

            Christine nodded, and saw the two detectives to the door, where they put on their shoes, and headed out to their car.  She closed her door and went inside.

 

Marcus got into his car, and stared at the steering wheel.  His partner Saul was climbing in the passenger door, as was just as annoyed and frazzled as he was.  Son of a bitch, she was coached well, he thought.  We don’t know anything more now that we did when we got here, except that I’d bet 90% of her story is bullshit.  I guess we’ll have to follow up with Eric’s sister, among other things to make sure.  I hope James has had a better day than I have.

 

Saul turned to Marcus and snorted.  “Did you believe all that in there?  I mean, it sounded good – but most people get worried, get nervous.  She did a little, but not like she should have.  Something was going on there.”

 

“Yeah, tell me about it.”  Marcus said, nodding.  It was almost enough to make him want to take up smoking again.  She knew something.  She knew something big, and wasn’t telling it and he wanted to know what it was.  I’ll talk to Angela van Helstrome and see if her story checks out.  Like I said as we left, ‘we’ll definitely be in touch, Miss Vallan.’

 

            As he pulled into traffic, his cell phone rang – and a few moments later it was on Bluetooth speaker.  It was James.  “What do you have for me James?”  He asked.

 

            “Not sure – it’s something, definitely boss.  You might want to check some of the security footage I got of the five of them – Miss Vallan included.  There’s something I want you to see.”

 

            “Well, spill it, James.”

 

            “Well I would, sir, but it kinda freaks me out – I’ll show you when you get back to the office.”

 

            “What?  Nothing freaks you out, James.”  Marcus said, curiously.

 

            “Not usually, sir, No.  I’ll see you when you get back.”

 

            “That was a weird phone call.”  Saul said.  “He usually that odd on the phone?”

 

            Marcus thought about it.  James Cameron was weird all the time – he often thought so far outside the box he forgot there was a box in the first place – but in the years Marcus had worked with him, he’d never heard him scared… or was it scared and excited at the same time?  Either way, it was weird. 

 

            “Yeah, that’s for sure.  Hell if I know.”  Marcus turned the car towards the office and headed back – whatever James had to show him, he definitely wanted to see.