“Something will need to be done about that,” John interjects. His voice is cool and authoritative.
“Agreed. Although humanitarian abuses by other governments will have to be back-burnered,” Lawson replies. “Frankly, we should consider ourselves lucky that only the Russians have kowtowed to the hostiles. We’ve been able to communicate with most of our international allies and are encouraging them to evacuate the cities threatened by warships while covertly organizing counterstrike forces in the event we can crack the Mogadorian shields. However, if Setrákus Ra executes his promised attacks—and they’re on the level of New York or Beijing—I’m not sure if these other countries will have the ability to stay the course. I think we can all agree that we’re up against a ticking clock. It’s not if Setrákus Ra makes good on his threats, but when.”
At the mention of New York, Daniela loudly clears her throat. John glances at her, then looks back at Lawson.
“What’s the situation in New York?” he asks.
“Same,” Lawson replies. “Mogadorian ground troops hold Manhattan, with our forces working triage and evacuation in the outer boroughs. Also not a priority at the moment, unless the warship returns.”
Daniela doesn’t react much to the news. At Lawson’s assessment, her lips bend in a tight frown, and she drums her fingers on the table in front of her, like she needs to get some aggression out. I wonder if she lost family back in the city. I wonder if they’re still trapped there.
“Are you tracking the Anubis?” John asks.
“We are. After attacking your people in Mexico, the Mogadorian flagship did not return to New York. Our recon shows it holding in West Virginia over a mountain in Hawks Nest State Park. Some MogPro agents who we’ve interrogated indicate this place is—”
“Yeah, yeah,” interrupts Nine, clearly bored. “Most of us have had the shit luck to be stuck in the place once or twice. It’s their big base.”
When Nine is done speaking, Lawson lets the ensuing silence linger. Behind him, the twins bristle at this breach of decorum. Lawson stares at Nine like he might an out-of-line cadet, but Nine doesn’t even notice. He’s right back to doodling explosions on a piece of US Army stationery.
“We’re aware of the base,” John says diplomatically. Or maybe just without any emotion. “We infiltrated it once before, but we’ve never had the resources to properly attack it until now.”
Lawson nods at that and seems about to respond. Before he can, I lean forward to look at Ella. Maybe she knows why he’s parked himself in West Virginia and hasn’t made good on any of his threats.
“Ella, why has Setrákus Ra stopped the Anubis there? What is . . . what is he waiting for?”
All eyes turn to Ella, although a lot of the military people look uncomfortable to be gathering intelligence from a preteen girl sparking with otherworldly energy. Ella looks equally uncomfortable with all the attention, and she emits a harmless flare of Loric energy when she opens her mouth to respond.
“Do you want . . . ?” She hesitates. “Do you want me to make contact with him?”
“Whoa, hold on—,” I say.
“Can you do it without him knowing?” John asks Ella. “Without putting yourself in danger?”
“I think so. If I’m quick,” Ella says, and then before anyone can protest, she closes her eyes. The glow emanating from her skin intensifies once again.
Everyone in the room goes silent, watching Ella warily. It’s a little bit like being at a séance.
“She’s a telepath,” Sam explains lamely, looking around at the baffled faces.
With a gasp, Ella opens her eyes. A whole lot of people jump, myself included. I can’t help it. Ella’s a little creepy.
“You okay?” John asks her.
She nods, taking a deep breath. “He almost sensed me,” she says, a note of pride in her voice. “His mind is busy. He was hurt badly.” Here Ella glances at me, and my stomach tightens. “His trueborn aides placed him in the vats to accelerate the healing process.”
“They use the vats to grow their soldiers—,” John begins to explain to Lawson.
“We already know about the vats,” he says, waving this off. “Do you have any idea when he’ll be done with . . . whatever he’s doing? When the attacks will resume?”
Ella shakes her head. “His wounds were almost fatal,” she says. “They would’ve killed someone without his augmentations.”