Because she already knew the children after spending the last several months undercover with them, Camilla, reluctantly, agreed to stay behind and watch over the remaining Scion children. Putting our heads together, Nate, Laurel, Gunnar and I got the process moving to protect young Brendan Gair and facilitate his formal adoption by Laurel and prevent his being returned to his abusive former foster family. I mostly worked the legal angles, getting to know the librarian at the UC Berkely Law Library very well, and chatting up law students on the finer aspects of California family law.
Time was of the essence though...the computer files confirmed that we needed to head for Death Valley, specifically to the Furnace Creek Inn, a place with the highest recorded temperature ever measured in the USA and last known place of employment of one Mr. Tim Pavertos, suspected enemy Scion, now deceased. After reviewing the computer files, Nate and Jack grumbled about Laurel and Gunnar's trigger-happy ways. As for me, I had no complaints, just wish for this last one Gunnar had been less talky and more shooty.
Anyway, it being only March, the weather this time of year was going to be comparatively mild. At least there was that.
To my surprise, Laurel returned from the trip to Los Angeles with an industrial size deep freeze, in which she had already placed the recovered body of Bridgitte.
Laurel installed the freezer in the garage and told the kids to stay out of it.
We geared up and headed out. It was one very long, 8 hour road trip. When we pulled into the parking lot in Nate's Reno Sheriff's Department SUV, we all noticed a white van of the same make & model of the cultists who had stormed the hotel...the raid where I nearly died. Nate and Gunnar wanted to take a closer look. I decided to accompany Laurel into the hotel.
The woman behind the desk greeted Laurel and took her information, booked her 2 adjoining rooms in a small suite on the first floor. Her expression went from cheerful to malevolent in a flash...words were exchanged and I didn't hear everything, but something to the effect of "see how you like it!"; my hand slipped down semi-consciously to touch the butt of my Sig Sauer P226 inside my jacket but by the time my hand made contact the woman had mysteriously vanished. Jack, who had been waiting in the lobby, had jumped up from his chair at the same time I reached for my pistol, and only seconds later Nate burst in the front sliding doors running, followed closely by Gunnar. Jack asked pointblank "WHAT was that about?" but Laurel just shook her head; nevertheless, the haunted look in her eyes said "I am SO fucked..."
"Fine," said Jack. "...but before long, we...you need to talk about this."
"I concur.", I said, coming up next to Laurel. Laurel wiped away a tear and just gave us a quick nod.
A rather confused hotel manager in a suit approached us, asking if he could help us or if we would be interested in a room.
Laurel put on a cheerful face and said "Yes, could you please confirm our reservation is still valid", handing him the paperwork and room key cards.
"Certainly", said the manager, pulling up the reservation. He went pale when he noticed the time the reservation was made (a few minutes ago) and who the computer said had made it (him!). "Now that...is most odd..."
Laurel interrupted "So do we have rooms for tonight or not?"
"Yes, yes, of course, of course, madam. The reservation is there, here are your keys back. It's just...I'm baffled by the fact that the computer says I made the reservation just a few minutes ago, when in fact I was concluding a meeting with the cleaning staff and...well, never mind. Have a delightful evening. Dinner is served at 6pm, black tie required. Dinner jackets are available for rent if the gentlemen need them."
We did need them and should have known, this being a five-star hotel.
I went along with Jack, Nate and Gunnar to pick up my Dinner jacket. It had been a long trip and we were all tired and hungry. Against our better judgment, we sat down to eat in the hotel restaurant. It was a fine meal, but as we ate, I noticed Gunnar's facial expression change as we ate. There was something about this food not to his liking. "Trust me guys, there's something not right about the way this food tastes", he stated. Wish he'd spoken sooner. I definitely felt dumber for having eaten this meal. It was a foolish tactical mistake, and now we'd been drugged.
There was a drunken disruption nearby and a belligerent gentleman was arguing with a steward, only to be approached by a well-but-provocatively dressed woman wearing a white dress that left little to the imagination. She took him by the arm and lead him away from the dining room, his mood considerably lightened, as if he now had not a care in the world. I unscrewed the cap to my hip flask and told Aisling in Gaelic to follow the pair as closely as she could but not to get caught and not to push her luck. She agreed and flew off, her long silvery white hair trailing a bit behind her. She kept below table-top level, flying unseen by the other guests, who were enjoying their meal and the ambient atmosphere of the restaurant. After several minutes she returned and gave me a full report of what she'd seen. She started to say it in Gaelic, but I urged her to go ahead and tell us all in English, to save me the trouble of translating for her.
Aisling blushed as she described as factually as possible the den of excess she'd borne witness to, however briefly. I gathered from her description that the remainder of The Order's SWAT wannabees were probably in no condition to harm us or anyone by this point. Probably drugged many times worse than us by now.
When the bill came at the end of the meal, Nate noticed that the amount was way below what it should have been for this many people for such a multi-course meal.
The plate captain explained that we'd been given a special discount on the house. Gunnar showed him the late Tim Pavertos's business card and said he came here specifically because of Tim's suggestion and that he would like to thank him for such a gracious meal. We were informed that Mr. Pavertos's father had actually authorized the discount for our party. Gunnar expressed a desire to thank him personally. The plate captain looked nervous and stated that Mr. Pavertos's father is a very busy man but he would be happy to relay the message of gratitude. Gunnar handed him his own PI business card with cellphone number and said fine, when the gentleman had time, his secretary or whomever could call for him then to arrange a meeting. The plate captain agreed and took the card obediently.
Jack mentioned something about "seeing about getting a job here; I'm headin' to the kitchen..."; Nate said "wait up!" and they were both out the door. I announced I'd like to take a walk to digest my meal and went outside. Gunnar and Laurel indicated they were heading back to the room. I felt a brief flash of jealousy but ignored it.
I'm coming to terms with my emotions for Laurel, recognizing the crush for what it is. A reaction to PTSD. Laurel and Gunnar have a history and I've got no right at all at t'all to blunder into the middle of that. I'm increasingly able to transform the crush into a blander, more general fondness for Laurel, which has improved Aisling's mood as well.
Feeling a bit lighter on my feet, I remembered what Ogma had said in my dream, and rounding the corner of the building, I looked around me to make sure nobody was watching and began to slowly levitate into the air, onto the roof.
For a two story building, this place had insane amounts of security...like, INTERPOL HQ levels of security. I'm sure at least one camera caught my upward ascent on film. I only hoped it was only a mere mortal watching it who might doubt his own eyes and not a Scion or God or Titan who knew better.
I landed on the roof. Nevermore flew up to me and asked what I was doing.
"Nothing much, just checking out the security on this place. You seen anything suspicious in the surrounding area?"
"Nope." said Laurel's dark winged sentinel.
"Well, I'm headed back inside. Aisling, if you could help me with the locked door here..."
"Certainly...do you need some light? I think I can get this door open without it, but if you need to see better let me know...", Aisling said.
"No, conserve your power. Just open the lock and that'll be grand."
"Done." said Aisling, opening the locked door with amazing speed.
I ducked inside, climbed downstairs to the main hallway on the 2nd floor, found an elevator and headed down to the first floor, heading back to our room.
When I entered, Gunnar was busy turning the room upside down looking for bugging devices, traps, whatever he might find. Laurel was resting in an easy chair, looking very lost in her own thoughts.
I updated them about all the pure savage levels of security this place had, stuff that even INTERPOL would be jealous of. Gunnar seemed duly impressed. Nate and Jack came up not long after, relating their adventures in cooking and that Jack had landed a job, starting in the morning!? Gunnar had also let us know earlier that the van in the parking lot was definitely of the same type owned by The Order, he'd even found (empty) weapons racks inside. I updated Jack and Nate on the hotel security arrangements I'd discovered after dinner.
All of us thought about the last time we were gathered in one hotel room together like this, and nobody felt up to getting any shut-eye. I transformed Gae Bolga to its full form and laid it up against a wall and sat down to read an eBook on my Smart Phone...J.P. Donleavy's The Ginger Man, to be specific.
Unexpectedly, there was a knock on the door at 2am. "Who is it?" said Gunnar, bracing against the door, guns drawn.
"maid service?" said a female voice uncertainly.
We had hung out the "do not disturb" sign, so this was very doubtful.
Gunnar opened the door a crack and said "I don't believe you. Who are you and what do you want."
Gunnar evidently detected there was no threat, for he opened the door wider for the rest of us to see. Standing in the doorway was another beautiful young woman, this one with olive skin even darker than Laurel's, with long, dark, curly hair and a beautiful but low cut, revealing white dress...
"I apologize for the deception. The Master will see you now." she said simply.
"This isn't what I had in mind when I handed over my business card." Gunnar started to protest.
"Yes, well, be that as it may, the Master is ready to see you now. You will come, please?" she demanded more than asked, despite the rising intonation. English was probably not her first language, I surmised.
"Give us a moment to, uh, straighten ourselves up." said Gunnar.
"Certainly" she said.
Gunnar closed the door, grabbed 2 of our M-16A2 assault rifles (which I'd modified to M-4 carbine size) and managed--somehow--to hide them both inside his overcoat. My Mossberg 500 pistol-grip shotgun was hidden securely under my GARDA duty jacket, my Sig Sauer P226 in its concealment holster. I returned the Bolga to compact form and put it back on my belt.
"Let's move out..." said Gunnar, opening the door.
The woman bowed to us and beckoned us to follow her...
There were voices down the corridor, I thought I heard them say...
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