It worked. A collective sigh interspersed with a few chuckles rose from the onlookers. Ian's perfectly understandable tantrum was dissolved, as was most of the tension among those present. Most, not all. I, for one, simmered about a few things I'd seen in Gyrich's mind.
"Nicholas Graves, one of the brains behind the Commission on…" I trailed off, noticing his suddenly ashen countenance and the feeling that I now had all the control over the situation I needed.
"Yes," I continued telepathically, pretty sure I wouldn't regret this silent threat. "I know your real purpose, but you can trust me for now. I'm one of the good guys. Your conscience will tell you when you need to worry, and I do suggest you listen. You know what we're capable of if you pull any more funny business."
"You wouldn't dare," he thought recklessly, "not where we're taking you. Not with the lives of thousands at stake and your husband at ground zero."
"Ben? Ben, what's happening? Ben?!" This time, the trouble Belle had on the phone with Ben seemed to come from his end.
"Then don't tempt us any more than you already have," I added.
"All right, kids," I said, gathering up the little ones and ushering them into the back of what looked to me like a real enough ambulance. "We're going for a ride."
"Belle?" I thought.
"Wha-?!" she nearly dropped her phone.
"Yep. If I show up in your head like this instead of at the Bayou by six, notify every authority and news source you can, and pack your bags for a long road trip. And we'll need to reschedule dinner."
"We're riding with those bad guys?" Ian whispered.
"You're not," said Graves. "You'll have to stay with your friend."
Ian looked up at Graves with the sad eyes and quivering lip. "But I want Mommy."
Graves looked at me, conflicted. I reinforce Ian's expression with a glare of my own. "My terms, remember?" I thought.
"All right," Graves relented. "Just to show I'm not one of the bad guys, I'll arrange clearance for one more visitor."
He cringed, hands clapping instinctively over his ears as Grace opened her mouth. But she only said, excitedly, but still at normal volume, "Clearance? We're going to The Site? Can you show me how to use a Geiger counter? And I'd like to see some spent fuel rods. Hey, you think I could do my next science fair project on radioactive bacteria?"
"Sure, why not?" Graves gave her a big toothy grin, as we began speeding away. "Of course you'd like those green glowsticks."
Grace rolled her eyes in scorn. "They're blue. I saw that on the internet."
Graves stifled a patronizing chuckle as all three of us glared at him.
"You know," said Ian, as the town's scenery quickly gave way to the scrubby high desert landscape zipping by the windows, "you're just like those guys in the comic books who think they're good, but don't treat people like people."
"In other words," said Grace, "we still think you're bad."
"And how," I added. I had to give him credit for keeping his thought about cute little girls using big words to himself… more or less anyway. "Still," I whispered to the kids, "there was a little good left even in Darth Vader, remember? If that's not the case with Mr. Graves and his people, we can still handle them."
I most certainly did not want my own misgivings to carry over to Ian, but I couldn't help but mentally reach out to check on Ben. Such anxiety should have made him easy to spot, and I figured he could use some assurance.
I couldn't reach him.