Copyright 1999, Zelda. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reposted in part or in full without written permission.
Disclaimer: Earth: Final Conflict and all its characters are the property of Tribune Entertainment and are used without permission. Jarod is the property of the Centre, aka NBC Television, and is also used without permission. However, I do promise to put everyone neatly away when I am done playing with them. "Beautiful Stranger" is by Madonna.
Rating: PG-13
Help Wanted
an Earth: Final Conflict story
By: Zelda
Note: This story does involve a cross-over with the NBC series The Pretender (now unfortunately canceled). You don't need to have watched the show to understand the action; the characters I've borrowed are here for cameos, except for Jarod, and I think he explains himself pretty well when he gets the chance. This story is set just after "Crossfire," the second season finale of E:FC. The first three chapters were originally published on
***
"But I am even more disturbed to find out that my own father, Jonathan Doors, instigated the entire plot…"
Emma Weston stood, shock-still, in the middle of the sidewalk. While normally on Fifth Avenue her immobility would have guaranteed a problem, currently the whole city of New York was frozen in place, mesmerized by the drama that was unfolding on vid screens everywhere. A few astonished whispers were passing through the crowd but it wasn't until the broadcast ended that the crowd's volume level rose sharply. Though Emma wasn't paying real attention to what they were saying, the words sunk in nonetheless…
"How could he have done that?"
It didn't really seem to matter whose side you were on; the question was equally valid. And it suited Emma precisely. How could he have done that, she wailed to herself, and not told me! She dug her global out of her purse, forcefully dialed the number, and waited for the connection. The screen shifted to her carrier's default. "We're sorry," the pleasant recording stated, "but this number is not in service." Emma slammed the global shut. Now she was starting to get angry. He knew I wouldn't approve, that jerk. Well, if he thinks being in a another city with no global means he won't get a piece of my mind… Emma turned. She had to get to the portal station and catch the next 'flight' to Washington.
Because if Joshua Doors thought that he could exclude her from something this big…he had another think coming.
***
Several hours later, Emma emerged from the portal station in Washington, D.C. In the end, she'd had to bully the New York portal staff into letting her travel to Washington, flashing her press pass and dropping as many important names as she could illegitimately lay claim to. She saw, in the faces of those around her, the same dismay and fear that she herself was feeling. President Thompson's declaration of martial law wasn't just unexpected, it was…unthinkable. Although apparently not to the President, she mused wryly. In Washington, the Taelon presence was even more visible than in New York. Through the wall of glass that made up one side of the portal station, she could see several well-organized groups of people in Volunteer uniforms run by. As she exited the station, one of them spotted her and trotted over.
"Could I see some identification please?" The question, while phrased courteously, was obviously a demand.
Emma regarded the young man blankly. The Volunteer suppressed a sigh. Everyone was responding this way to him. He could only hope that Lieutenant Jessop was correct, and shortly people would realize that Taelon rule was definitely the best thing for the planet. "Your identification?" he reminded the blonde woman standing in front of him.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Emma made the appearance of being jolted out of deep thought. How dare this juvenile pimply-faced heavily armed thug…oh yeah, that was how…weaponry. "Here you go, Sir," and she smiled winningly at the Volunteer. He ostentatiously checked her driver's license and press pass.
"You live in town, ma'am?' Emma nodded. "Then I'd suggest getting home as quickly as possible. These streets aren't safe for civilians." She rolled her eyes as he returned to his squad.
"Come on, Lavell, get a move on," yelled one of the Volunteers. "We've got a bead on some Resistance scum! Do you wanna miss all the fun?" The young man shook his head and redoubled his pace. For a brief moment, Emma's desire to confront Joshua warred with her reporter's instinct to follow a story, but, as always, the story won. She took after the squad of Volunteers, maintaining a discreet distance.
Ten blocks later, the group came to a halt outside a tall apartment tower. Emma sidled closer. Overhead, a helicopter made a slow descent, its spotlight casting back and forth across the apartment windows. The new arrivals dispersed around the building and prepared to enter. Without warning, the guns on the helicopter came alive and the glass high above rained down on the street. The Volunteers charged into the building, guns at the ready. Emma moved out of the shadows. As she stepped into the light, someone ran past her towards the building, grabbing her arm and dragging her along with him.
"Hey!" she exclaimed, hauling back on her arm to free herself.
"Emma, I don't have much time. I need your help. Come on," said the stranger, and she realized that it was no stranger at all.
"Jarod?" she asked in disbelief.
The tall, dark-haired man holding her arm looked at her with exasperation. "Emma. Help. Now." He pulled her into the building. Emma's decision was instantaneous. This had to be large, if Jarod were here. They were in a stairwell, lit only by emergency lighting. No Volunteers were in sight, but Emma could hear them, a few floors above, and then -- weapons fire? Jarod's head lifted at the sound, and he charged up the stairs, pulling a gun out of his coat pocket. Emma followed. As they rounded the fourth-floor landing, Jarod aimed, fired and green light brought down three Volunteers in quick succession. "Come on, this way," he gestured down the stairs to the three men huddled on the landing just above them.
"Jarod, man, am I glad to see you!" said the dark-skinned member of the trio. "But we've got casualties here."
Jarod leaned forward and grasped the speaker's hand. "It's good to see you too, Augur. Emma, come on, this is what I need your help for." Emma helped Jarod lift the injured man, slipping her arm around his shoulders. His head tilted back and she nearly dropped him as she recognized Jonathan Doors.
Augur offered his arm to the last member of the threesome. "Liam?" he asked gently. Emma nearly dropped Doors a second time as she realized that Major Liam Kincaid, Companion Protector to Da'an, was the third member of the group. Kincaid seemed dazed, though uninjured. Jarod quickly directed Augur to help Emma with Doors, while he supported Kincaid. "Down," he commanded.
They rattled down the stairs as quickly as they could manage, down past where Jarod and Emma had come in, down into the sub-basement of the building. Jarod looked around for a moment, then seemed to find what he was searching for. The building shook over their heads as the Volunteers continued their search. Jarod propped the Major up against a convenient post and kicked open a door. Emma couldn't see anything beyond but blackness. Jarod gestured, "In we go."
Augur moved forward; Emma had no choice but to keep up with him. The five entered the darkness. Jarod again propped the dazed Kincaid up against a wall a few feet inside the tunnel.
"Can you hold him for a minute?" Augur asked Emma. Without waiting for an answer, he dropped Doors's arm and went over to Kincaid. Jarod, back at the doorway, pulled his gun, surveyed the basement room's roof clinically and fired. With a tremendous roar, the ceiling collapsed. They stood in total darkness.
"Where are we?" asked Emma, determined to regain some control of her life. Jarod's voice was somewhat distracted as he answered her.
"We're in a service -- there you are -- a service tunnel that accesses the sewer system." A light came on and illuminated Jarod's face. He glanced back at the doorway, playing the flashlight across the now-blocked entrance. "That ought to hold them," he said with evident satisfaction. Augur finished his quiet conversation with Liam and returned to carry his portion of the Doors burden.
"But why are we in the sewers?" Emma persisted, as Jarod continued to search out the emergency lighting controls.
"It's a very good place to hide. And it's the fastest way to Augur's place. Besides, I like tunnels." A huge grin spread across Jarod's face. Emma simply shook her head. She knew that expression of old. The grin faded, however, as Doors groaned and shifted in her arms. Within seconds, Jarod was probing the old man's injuries.
"We were caught in that blast. He got the worst of it," Augur offered. "There's equipment back at my place, but I don't know how we're going to get a doctor down there to treat him."
"You won't need to get anyone down there," Emma stated. "You've got a perfectly good doctor right here." Augur looked at her in surprise. "Not me. Him." She gestured impatiently towards Jarod with her free arm.
"He's a doctor?"
"I am today, apparently," answered Jarod with just a hint of frustration. "He's got broken ribs, and there's probably internal bleeding. I'd prefer not to move him, but that guarantees he'll be dead. I need to bandage his chest, to stabilize the broken ribs." Jarod assessed the little group. "Emma?"
"Mmm?"
"I need your shirt."
"But, but, it's silk!"
"I need bandages, Emma, and you have a jacket and your coat to keep you warm after that."
Emma sighed. He was right, but she hated to lose her new silk turtleneck. Unceremoniously dumping the injured man's arm, she pulled the turtleneck out of her waistband, then slid her arms out of the shirt's arms, promptly reinserting each one back into the warm suit jacket and light coat. Buttoning up the jacket, and silently praising the Gods of Fashion for this year's higher necklines, she then pulled the shirt over her head and gave it to Jarod. He quickly ripped it to pieces, two of which he passed to her. "Kincaid's hands are burned," he explained.
Emma opened her mouth to retaliate that she was not a nurse, but thought better of it. "Is there any ointment?" Jarod shook his head, and continued wrapping the remains of her turtleneck around Jonathan Doors. She went over to Kincaid. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing raggedly. "Major?" she asked. There was no response. "Major Kincaid?" Still nothing. "Liam?" Slowly, green eyes drifted open and focused on her. "Emma. Emma Weston. What are you doing here?"
"Your hands, they're…" Emma's voice trailed off as Liam raised his hands as if just remembering that they even existed. Both palms were horribly burnt, the deepest burn in the center of the palm. "I have bandages." She took his hand and began wrapping the scrap of turtleneck around it.
"I tried to stop the fire." Emma glanced up from her wrapping. Liam was looking at his free hand. "I tried but it was too much. I couldn't hold it back," he continued in a dreamy voice. "And when we got out, I had to stop them from catching us." Emma knotted the bandage on the first hand and gently took the other one. It was obvious that Kincaid was in shock from his injury. "But I don't have control yet. How can anyone understand his own soul?"
Emma tied the last knot in the second bandage, to find Jarod looking over her shoulder. "Good work," he commented. "Let's move out."
***
They had been moving through the tunnels for what seemed like hours, as far as Emma's arms were concerned. And despite her near-perfect memory, she couldn't have retraced their steps any further than the last few turnings. It's that awful smell, she decided. Although I think the worst thing is that I don't even really smell it anymore… She glanced at Augur, across Doors' dangling head. He too seemed beaten down.
"Do you know how much further?" she asked him. Augur exhaled sharply.
"I wish I did, but I don't usually travel through the sewers. I prefer more commodious methods of transportation, thank you." Augur looked ahead to check on Jarod and Liam. He was starting to worry about his friend; the longer they were in the tunnels, the weaker Liam was becoming. On the other hand, the faster they got home, the sooner Liam could be checked out. "So," began Augur, "how do you know our friend Jarod here?"
"Jarod?" repeated Emma, wondering how best to distill her relationship with Jarod. "Well, we first met, I guess it was five years ago, in New York. I'd just started at the Post, and Jarod was assigned as my editor. He'd come to find out the truth behind one particular article; I'd done some of the research for the story. I think he suspected me at first, but then he realized I didn't know what he needed. In the end, I helped him get what he wanted. We've been trading favours ever since." Emma finished nonchalantly. "Now you."
"Me? We've…done business."
"That's not what I meant." Emma's curiosity could restrain itself no longer. "What the hell is going on here? Last I heard, Jonathan Doors was official public enemy number one, but here we are carrying him through the scenic subterranean sewers of Washington along with Da'an's protector. I can't imagine that Jarod's thinking of giving Doors to the Taelons, so why are we bringing a Companion Protector along for the ride? Is he supposed to be some kind of hostage? And what happened to his hands?"
"Slow down!" Augur held up his free hand. "That's too many questions to answer all at once." How long can I stall her? he wondered, flashing back to that instant in the apartment when all three of them had believed it was, finally, over. Liam was pleading with Lili over the global, Doors was calmly sipping a whiskey, when blinding light stabbed into their hiding place. "We have trouble," he'd shouted. Lame ass. Liam had turned towards the window, Doors was rising out of his chair as the window shattered, forced inward by the billowing explosion behind. He'd been prepared to die, and shocked to find that it wasn't happening, and when he opened his eyes…Liam, gritting his teeth with the strain, was holding back the entire blast with his shaqarava. "Augur, I can't," he'd gasped, and the fire came at them, overwhelming his friend. He'd shoved the other two into the hallway where they'd found the Volunteers waiting. How many of them had fallen in the first flash from Liam's palms, he couldn't even say.
But he would never forget the sound of Liam's screams as the shaqarava flared again and again, seemingly beyond his control.
"Liam isn't a hostage, Emma," stated Jarod from ahead. "He's the leader of the Resistance. Please don't drop Mr. Doors, Augur, Emma. Those bandages didn't tie themselves."
***
Emma collapsed with relief on the plush sofa, sighed deeply and took her first real look around Augur's place. She knew they were somewhere under the city, but it could as easily have been another planet. The main cavern had been sectioned into rooms by steel and Plexiglas dividers; in one of those rooms, Jarod was examining Doors's injuries more closely, with the aid of some device Emma knew she had no hope of recognizing. Liam had been placed in another room, and would be next in line for Jarod's medical attention. She took a second look at one of the many paintings hung around the cavern. "Oh my…Is that…?" she said without thinking.
Augur dropped onto the sofa beside her. "It certainly is," he replied with pride. "So, do you want to tell me the truth about Jarod?"
"Do you want to tell me the truth about Major Kincaid?" she responded.
"Touché," Augur bared his teeth in what might have passed for a smile among tigers. "Why don't you show me yours, and I'll show you mine."
Emma dropped her eyes, considering. "Jarod's story isn't mine to tell."
"That's too bad, cause I'm betting it's very interesting." Augur looked intently at Emma.
"So, is he or isn't he?" she pressed.
"What? The leader of the Resistance? You didn't show me yours." Emma focused her best glare on Augur, with little apparent effect.
"It would explain this whole mess," she realized. "Of course he'd have to come and rescue Doors. But the way that Joshua described it, Doors never really left the Resistance, so why would they need a new leader?"
"Joshua!" snorted Augur. "Don't get me started on Joshua Doors. He set us up -- planting information about a Taelon plot to kill his father, then turning around and selling out the same Resistance team he'd begged for help. And then he goes on national television, claiming his own father was responsible."
Emma got up, shaking her head. "No. I don't believe you. That's impossible. Joshua's not like that. He wouldn't."
"He did. Bragged about it to his old man, even. He said it was payback." Augur's voice was edged with anger.
"Then Doors is lying. I know Joshua -- I've known him since college. He just wouldn't do that."
"He would and he did," snapped Augur. "And I have a lot of friends who are suffering right now because of him." With that, he sprung off the couch and stalked over to the central computer console.
Emma shook her head one last time. What was she doing here? Damn you, Jarod, she thought, and reflected ruefully that this was not the first time she'd had that thought. I don't even like Jonathan Doors? the way he treated Joshua! A line from an old song drifted through her head. 'If I was smart then I'd run away/But I'm not so I guess I'll stay/Haven't you heard?/I fell in love with a beautiful stranger…' Could Joshua have brought down his father, and along with him, the entire American republic? She shivered with reaction as the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place -- the growing distance between them over the past months, his bitter hatred for his father, the utter ridiculousness of Doors attempting to kill his runner-up -- and her contribution, the scheme Jarod had created for her that resulted in the humiliation and exposure of the man responsible for her own brother's death in the SI War. She was ready to sink back into the sofa again when Jarod called her name.
"Emma? I need to talk to Augur for a minute. Could you keep an eye on Liam for me?"
"Sure," she answered, and took her fearful realizations with her for further consideration.
Jarod turned back to Augur. "I think it's time you told me everything." He loomed over the hacker, his brown eyes glowering from underneath dark brows.
"I don't know what you mean, my friend," prevaricated Augur, as he continued to program the computer. "Search all frequencies for Lili's signal."
"These readings," Jarod gestured towards the screen, "are not correct. Either your extremely sophisticated computer is misprogrammed, or your friend in there is more than he seems."
"Why don't you tell me?" Augur answered snidely. "You seem to have figured out everything else about us."
Jarod leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest. He could no longer count how many times he had come to this crossroads, this pivotal moment from which everything followed. He understood its nuances so well, had studied how to project his own trustworthiness, no matter what crap he was making up, had learned how to judge the other person's acceptance. But this time, there would be no going back. It was time to tell the truth -- the real truth.
"Augur, listen to me. I'm a Pretender, someone who can be anyone he wants to be. And when I was a very young child, I was stolen from my family, and raised and trained by a group of people who are so much like the Taelons it scares me. I won't let that happen again, to anyone. I want to help you, and the Resistance, but I need you to trust me."
The younger man finally looked up from his computer monitor, his troubled eyes meeting Jarod's.
***
How can anyone understand what's in their soul?
The anguished voice drifted through his consciousness. He didn't even know whose voice it was anymore. There were so many voices pushing against him. And the lights. Pushing him. Pushing him around. Pressing closer. NO! he thought, trying again to push them back. But they just kept coming. Why wouldn't they leave him alone? Pushing, pushing…He would be overwhelmed.
They would overrun him.
There would be no more him.
He would not be pushed.
NO MORE!
***
Emma had only glanced at Liam when she entered the room where the semi-conscious Protector lay. Her thoughts were still circling madly around the realization that Joshua Doors, her closest friend since college, was responsible for…
For what, Emma? The destruction of the American way of life, of who knows how many innocent lives?
How could she have been so ignorant, so willfully ignorant? She'd always known that Joshua had a ruthless streak; they'd even joked about it -- it would get him elected President, just like mine is supposed to get me a Pulitzer. And how much of what had happened was she herself responsible for? Liam's incoherent mumbling distracted her for only a moment.I am his friend,
she thought. I should have realized something was wrong… Liam's voice grew louder, and she turned to him, taking a cloth from the table beside the bed and wringing it out. She passed the cloth over his forehead, but it seemed to give him little relief. Morbid curiosity prompted her to check on Liam's palms. She picked his hand up by the wrist, surprised to see that Jarod had not yet redressed the burns. They really were bad, so bad, in fact, that she could see a shiny white liquid gathering in the center, where the burn was deepest. And then she realized that it wasn't liquid at all. The white glow expanded out of Liam's palms, rapidly brightening to a glare."Jarod!" yelled Emma, dropping Liam's hand and stepping back from the bed. The glare spread to cover Liam's entire body as he shouted something incomprehensible. Jarod and Augur pelted into the room and all three were blinded by the sudden flash. As their vision cleared, they could see Liam, sitting upright on the bed, examining the front and back of his now-healed hands. "That feels much better," he said.
"Liam!" cried Augur exultantly, rushing to his friend. "You had us worried! You remember Jarod, don't you? I kind of had to tell him our little secret," Augur dropped his voice on the last. Liam flicked a startled look at Augur. Jarod stepped forward, hand extended. Liam took the hand, but couldn't quite meet Jarod's eyes. "It's an honor," said the Pretender sincerely. Liam's sheepish gaze finally meandered its way to Jarod's face. Biting his lip and letting go of Jarod's hand, he slid off the bed and stood up.
It was then that he realized there was a fourth person in the little room.
Emma was still trying to manufacture some rational explanation for what she had witnessed. Apparently, Liam Kincaid was more than just the leader of the Resistance. And it was quite obvious now that she had allowed Jarod to drag her into something very large.
"This is my friend, Emma Weston," offered Jarod.
"We've met."
"Major," acknowledged Emma coolly.
Liam braced himself. As if Abby Franklin weren't bad enough, now there was another reporter with a shaqarava story to tell. And since this one knew about the Resistance hideout, he was betting the price of her silence would be more than just a kiss. "There's a perfectly rational explanation for this," he gestured around the room.
"I'm sure there is. But I'd rather hear the truth." She crossed her arms and waited.
"I wish I could tell you," began Liam. Jarod noted with professional approval that the boy was projecting sincerity at just the right level. "But I can't. This…"
"Forget it," interrupted Emma, holding up her hand as if to physically stop Liam's explanation from proceeding any further. "I just spent three hours dragging a man I despise through the sewers, only to discover that his son, whom I have known and respected for the past decade, is the planet's biggest freaking moronic low-life traitor, and you, you…" Emma waved her arms helplessly. If she couldn't get a grip in the next few moments, she knew she would lose it completely. Taking a deep breath, she said, "I guess that what you were up to between the end of the SI War and becoming Da'an's protector isn't your biggest mystery."
Liam shifted uncomfortably under Emma's level gaze. He could see the strain of the past hours beginning to express itself around her eyes and mouth. She had looked the same when he had first met her, at the first Embassy reception he'd attended as Da'an's protector. Come to think of it, hadn't she been there with Joshua Doors? No, there was definitely no way that he could entrust the secret of his Kimera heritage to Emma Weston.
Jarod closed his eyes in despair, but when he opened them the tableau remained: the tall young man radiating stubbornness, and the equally determined woman standing opposite him. The Pretender could tell that Emma's emotions were being held sternly in check, and he really hated what he was going to have to do next. It was, however, the only logical step.
"You're right, Emma," he said. "Kincaid's whereabouts aren't the biggest mystery. It's the shaqarava." Liam turned his glare on Jarod.
"Shaqarava?" echoed Emma.
"A legacy from his alien father, Ha'gel."
Liam clenched his jaw and his fists. He could show this so-called friend of Augur's a thing or two about shaqarava, if he chose. Behind them, Augur was practically dancing with frustration over this betrayal of confidence, but Jarod remained focused on Emma.
"Ha'gel." Her tone was flat. "The same Ha'gel who killed Will?" The tautness that Jarod had noticed in her face now characterized her entire body. Oh, how he regretted causing her pain, but it was necessary.
"My father did not kill William Boone!" stated Liam emphatically, only realizing his mistake after the words left his mouth. Augur gave up trying to attract Jarod's attention and smacked his palm against his forehead.
"Really?" sneered Emma. "The Taelon medical records indicated quite clearly that Will's injuries were extensive and life-threatening."
"Where did you get access to Taelon medical records?" Liam flung the question defensively.
"I stole them. You nearly caught me -- that reception in the embassy? I told you I'd gotten lost on the way to the washroom." She tossed her hair back. Truthfully, he'd stopped her from running right into Sandoval, in which case there would have been no records to discuss, but that was not the issue.
"Ha'gel did not kill Boone," repeated Liam. "It was Zo'or." Emma's disdainful expression remained. He longed to wipe it off her face -- and he knew just what to tell her. "He did it so that he could steal Will's consciousness and implant it in others. He suppressed everything that was human and augmented the qualities that made him a great soldier. He was trying to create the perfect army to throw in the path of the Taelons' enemies, the Jaridians. Zo'or called him Lazarus. And when the experiment backfired and Lazarus began to recall Boone's memories, Zo'or let him be killed again."
Emma took an involuntary step backward. Jarod moved to stand beside her; he could see she was nearly done in by this last revelation. "It's true," confirmed Augur gently. "I saw him, on the Taelon Mothership." Emma simply looked at him, her blue eyes bright with tears. There was nowhere left for her to turn; she was going to have her breakdown here and now. She couldn't deny the force of truth in Liam's story.
"Why?" she whispered. "Why would he hate Will so?"
Liam stepped forward. "It's not just Boone, Emma. Zo'or hates all of humanity. He believes we're a lower form of life than he is."
"You think I haven't seen that?" she cried wildly. Her throat constricting around a sob, she fled the room.
Jarod held out an arm to stop Liam from going after her. "Give her a minute," he suggested. Green eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Just who the hell do you think you are?" he demanded. "You had no right to repeat what Augur told you in confidence, especially not to someone like her."
Jarod dropped his arm, suddenly sick to death of all the games. "Do you want to stop Zo'or?" he asked.
"Of course, but I'm telling you that we don't need…"
"And I'm telling you that she's the key to accomplishing that goal!" the Pretender roared. "You are the leader of no one, Liam. The Resistance is destroyed, captured or in hiding. Da'an has not been heard from since this crisis began. You've lost contact with your operatives aboard the Mothership. I have a plan to get all that back, if you're willing to follow it."
"Really?" queried Liam, his eyebrows curving upward to emphasize the sarcasm in his tone.
Augur looked from one to the other. The moment of silence stretched out, and was broken by the chirp of a global. The three dashed out into the main cavern. "Onscreen," Augur sang out. "It's got to be Lili!" he crowed as he elbowed Liam.
"There's no signal," replied the holo-program, declining to make an appearance. The chirp was repeated. "Over there," pointed Liam, towards Augur's 'living room.' Sitting on the coffee table was a leather bag. The chirp came again, from inside.
"Excuse me," said Emma, as she forced her way over to her purse. "Do you mind?" She reached into the bag and pulled out her global. Placing her back to the wall, she popped open the screen. Her spine straightened and her face became expressionless as she spoke. "Joshua," she answered.
The face of her one-time friend was animated, and almost relaxed. "Emma!" he exclaimed with relief. "I've been trying to get you for hours, but the connections were down."
She wasted no time. "What the hell do you think you're up to?"
"I wanted to tell you but…well, you know how things get. I'm sorry. I should have let you know. It would have been nice to have someone else on my side. But, Emma, I've got great news." She quirked an eyebrow at the global. "How would you like a position at the White House, in the new administration?"
"Thompson is a pawn, Joshua. I want to be where the action is. I want Zo'or." Emma's tone was cold.
"Ems, I don't know…"
"Don't play games with me, Joshua Doors. Your…credentials…should be adequate for the task."
Joshua sighed. "I should have known you would want the best. I'll call you back with the arrangements."
She snapped the global shut and threw it on the sofa. "Rat-fink bastard butt-smelling salmonella-spreading three-D loser," she muttered.
"Emma, what are you doing?" asked Liam.
"You need someone on the inside," she stated as calmly as she could manage. "I'm volunteering."
TO BE CONTINUED