CHAPTER 13


   There was a part of Carol that was actually relieved to be back in New York. No matter what her pedigree, no matter what her passport said, this had been her real home for some time. She had a hard time thinking of it as enemy territory even if she had absolutely no problem considering the Americans anything but. Of course, in her mind, New Yorkers were not exactly Americans but, nothing was perfect and, after dealing with elves for so long, things being not what they seemed, was a standard affair. Her current residence was a good case in point. She could not stay at her actual home since the Americans had forced to her to blow out four floors when they attacked it. The renovations had not even started but, at least the Americans were making good on their promise and returning her property. That was how Carol found herself staying in a hotel that was quietly owned by the Feyland Embassy to the United Nations or, at least, so the CIA thought. The truth was that the building belonged to the Camelonian Government and always had. Carol had managed the property, for years, at the end of a string of fake companies. Now that the elves were known to the world, it was just easier to let them hold the lease.
It still made her angry though. As she got dressed she looked out the window and down at the city below. It was the nicest room in the place and the view was spectacular. For what a normal guest would pay it had better be but, it was not her view. She looked from the window over to the bed and sighed. It was as empty as the view seemed, Carol realized, as she felt the absence of John. Amanda was not here either. Carol was supposed to be rich and powerful. Why was it she could not have the only two things in the world that she really wanted?
The tone of the voice from outside her door sounded almost as if it were begging forgiveness, “Lady Carol?” Carol finished with her earrings and cracked her bedroom door. Jennifer, the personal assistant that was loaned to her by the Feyland Embassy, was on the other side. The girl looked every bit as nervous as she sounded and Carol assured her that she was almost ready to leave. Jennifer corrected her, “no ma’am. The, um, gentleman is here to see you.”
“What?” Carol looked over the girls shoulder at the room full of ‘people’ that allegedly acted as her temporary staff. She saw one face that did not belong and, Carol could guess who he might be. She dismissed Jennifer and finished getting ready before confronting the man in the living room, “an American. I’m guessing CIA. You might should check your memo’s. This property is technically the sovereign soil of the Feyland Empire.”
The man looked amused. He actually mumbled something to himself first. Carol could have sworn it was, “then they’d actually be following the law for a change.” She could have been wrong and what did it matter anyway. The guy put his hand out for a shake and he acted friendly enough, ignoring the rebuke, “Cutter. Agent Josh Cutter, Treasury Department.”
Carol hesitated before shaking the man’s hand. She did it deliberately to set a tone and then she inquisitively asked, “Homeland Security? Forgive me if I am having a hard time believing you Agent Cutter but, unless I miss my guess, you’re a part of a protective detail? I have my own and, besides, if you people were going to provide something like this it would be the DSS, from the State Department?”
The guy smirked and then nodded, “it would. If my team and I were actually here to protect you.”
That told Carol a great deal and not the least of which was that this man was far from alone. The fact that he was willing to admit as much suggested he was above board. The rest of it told her who was waiting for her over at the UN building. That had not been on the schedule but, given recent events, she did not find it entirely surprising either. It almost seemed like Devon were sending her a warning but, then again, Carol doubted that the man even knew this Secret Service Agent was here.
Carol decided to turn on the charm. She smiled warmly at the man and then called for her assistant and head of security, “make sure that Agent Cutter receives all the cooperation he requires.” Her Security Chief was a former SAS man by the name of Alton Botsworth. He had lead the detail that defended their building against the FBI raid. Alton had been one of the few who got out alive. He lost friends in the explosion and, as a result, was not that happy with the current situation. Carol made sure he understood her orders and had little doubt Botsworth would follow them. At the end of the day the man was a thorough professional.
If there were any problems, Carol did not hear. She was not even entirely sure what the Secret Service thought they might be doing. She could not tell from personal observations either. Carol never saw the first one as her small motorcade traveled to forty-second street. She doubted if anyone else would notice either. She had an Elf escort, mostly on motorcycles, and they belonged to Ambassador Noceauni’s personal guard. As practical security they were near worthless but, they were only here to protect her from one thing, the Americans. The Fey had an interest in protecting the Camelonians in America and knew that Washington would not wish to risk an incident if they were involved. It was an added measure of security until a formal, and public, treaty could be hammered out.
It was why Carol was not entirely surprised by, yet another unannounced visitor. He was lying low in the offices of the Feyland Empire, naturally, and it made Carol wonder how long the man had been in New York. Of course, she avoided that subject as she walked into Noceauni’s office, and directly for some alcohol. Her question, about the American president, drew a laugh from her uncle. Arthur waived it off, “you know very well why the man is here.”
Carol remained as defiant as ever when she asked, “so the rumors from Coven Hill are true?”
Arthur seemed almost unconcerned as he replied, “if anything, for once, they’re falling short on just how serious the situation is there.”
The Elf ambassador looked away form his window. He had been watching the protesters gathering down at the street corner. He looked to Carol and told her, “we can’t reach home. We believe the Dell is buried.”
This confirmation made Carol wonder why it was that these two men seemed so unconcerned over the matter. She asked the obvious question, “you assume that they’ll dig it out?”
Arthur confirmed that, “what else could happen?”
“Uncle,” Carol replied with alarm and some bite, “that’s not even the right question. How did it get buried? That is, of course, assuming that you weren’t behind it in the first place.”
Arthur waived the notion off, “why would I do such a thing?”
Noceauni remained his usual calm self. Carol knew the elf ran their security services in North America. He had been their station chief at the embassy in Washington but, a shift in factions left him running the UN detail here in New York. Carol suspected that, just like his title in DC, being Ambassador here was only his day job. As such, his failure to get upset meant very little because, as with most such men, human and elf alike, very little rattled them.
When the elf said, “evidence would point to the Orc being responsible.”
Carol quickly thought of the angles and said, “are the Americans going to believe that?”
Arthur laughed and then took a swing of his drink before saying, “who do you think informed us, my dear niece.”
Noceauni continued in his flat and calm demeanor, “their people were engaged in a fight at the temple when we lost communications.”
“My god,” Carol felt a shiver run up her spine, “how did that happen? Is that even possible?”
“Sooner or later,” Arthur pointed out, “that situation will resolve itself.”
That led the Elf to agreeing, “it is not like this situation is unusual. You Camelonian’s have grown accustomed to having the ability to open the Dell. For ages we have operated without that. We will simply do so again, until, as we all know, and Sir Arthur pointed out, the situation resolves itself.”
Carol remained alarmed, “the Americans won’t see it that way.”
“I am aware,” Noceauni replied, “that even for humans, the Americans can be quite reactionary. This does not alter the situation.”
Carol huffed and looked to her uncle, “they still have their Marines sitting off the Welsh coast. Now they have the excuse they were looking for. Uncle Arthur, they risked a nuclear war to take Coven Hill. What’s stopping them now?”
Again, Arthur seemed less than concerned, “I am dealing with that but, this is why we brought you here, first. You need to be briefed.”
Carol put her hands on her hips and told her Uncle, “I think I can handle Devon. I think I understand the implications well enough. Given your current attitude, I am questioning if I’m the only one here that does.”
The elf stated bluntly, “President Devon is still in Washington. I was updated on his activities, only an hour ago.”
That did take Carol by surprise. She looked to Noceauni with scorn, “then your spies are wrong. Why else did I have the Secret Service knocking at my door?” When the elf told her it left Carol a little confused and wondered if she should be laughing, “you’re joking, right?” There was no real answer coming and what did it matter? Carol could put the pieces together anyway. She had them get on with their briefing and, as it turned out, both Arthur and the elf had people ready with packets of material, in a nearby conference room. Most of what they had to say, Carol thought, was completely useless. Many times, she quietly wondered why she got up before the sun, just to listen to this drivel.
It was as she left the conference room that she got the first piece of intelligence that she considered relevant. It was nothing on a thumb drive and it was most certainly nothing that the self appointed experts had to tell her. It was not even some bit of data but, rather a person. He had just left the Ambassador’s office and it took Carol a moment to put the face with a name. He had been quite irrelevant for some time and, even at the peak of his power, he was little more than an errand boy. Knowing who owned the bucket he was carrying could be important though. Just the fact that he was leaving the very office, with Arthur in it, told Carol she needed to talk to the man.
Carol intercepted him at the elevators. She had her small staff with her but, this man was alone. He seemed to recognize her but, played dumb anyway. When Clancy Oldham shook her hand he said, “you have me at a loss, even if I’m flattered you remember me. I only did one term in congress.”
“Carol Somerset,” she replied graciously, “and I’m in the news business or, I was. It was my job to know little details.”
“Ah,” he replied with a laugh, “I’m a little detail.” The man was mixing excuses with humor as he replied, “I guess that describes my tenure in congress well enough. So you were a reporter?”
“No,” Carol replied with at twinkle, “I run a public relations firm. I suppose, that since you’re no longer in congress, you must work for the State Department if you’re here right now.”
“Oh hell no,” Oldham replied. “I don’t work for Devon. Since you’re about to be an ambassador, lets just say that we both coordinate with parties who have mutual interests.”
So, he was willing to admit that he knew who she was. Even more important, he let her know that he was very aware of the current situation involving Camelonian interests. That made sense given who he was just talking too. The fact as to why  he was willing to admit it was the real question. Carol left it at that, as the elevator door opened. Oldham graciously let her have this one, seeing as how her entire party would take up all of it’s space. That was good because when the doors closed, Carol quietly told Alton Botsworth, “find out where that funny little man goes.”
Carol did not expect to hear much on that matter, anytime soon. She was in one of the many meeting rooms, listening to diplomats argue, when Alton quietly approached her from behind. He whispered in her ear and she was a little surprised by what he told her but, of course, right now it was of little consequence. Carol was more concerned about the person representing the Americans. It was not who she was expecting. It was their Secretary of State, Rose Atwater. The woman was getting grilled by China, and Carol was trying to follow the French translations on her headset. It was taking a while to get them because the Chinese ambassador was quite an emotional creature and had a bad habit of speaking in a rapid fire manner. Fortunately, like a lot of Chinese, he also kept repeating himself when he got like that.
After a few minutes, it was of little consequence anyway. His position was clear enough. He was accusing the Americans of engineering this entire situation so they could take control of the Dell. It was of no great surprise that the Americans denied this. Atwater calmly told the man, “we are trying to build a coalition here. You do understand that it is our entire world that faces a threat.”
The Chinese were not happy with that either. Carol knew that their Ambassador spoke impeccable English but, he waited for the translations before he replied, “so you say. Our people in the international zone have not confirmed any of this. We find it quite convenient that America would just happen to have forces off the coast of Britain, that are capable of handling this so called emergency.”
Carol decided to inject into the argument, “we can confirm that the Dell is closed. No matter who puts ground forces at Coven Hill, it will not matter since we are the exclusive power that controls building thirteen and it’s relevant support facilities.”
This time the Chinese did not bother waiting for a translation. Their ambassador looked to Carol and said in very good English, “and who the hell are you?”
Ambassador Noceauni graciously replied, also in English, “she is a representative of The Board Of The Sovereign Entity, of the Camelonian People. This is a nation that is duly recognized by the Feyland Empire and has stood with us as friends and allies, for centuries. We are sponsoring their application to the United Nations.” Noceauni nodded to Atwater and stated, “this government is also recognized by the United States of America. Your respective embassies have been notified.”
Sir Parker Lovett, who was the deputy ambassador for Great Britain, did not hesitate in blurting out, “they are not recognized by the United Kingdom. We consider the Camelonians a terrorist organization and political separatists. Great Britain will file a protest that they are even included in this meeting.”
Carol was waiting for that shoe to drop and had expected it. She also knew that the British were the least of her concerns right now. As long as Camelonia had the protection of the Fey, it would remain so. She had gotten what she wanted here, it was now on the table, and the real players here could no longer ignore her if, for no other reason than, her people were the only ones in two universes who understood the Dell.
This little incident was also the first and last time Carol would get to speak at this meeting. The bickering went on and Carol had to really wonder what it was all for. They all knew what had to be done. In the end it would be exactly what happened. Why did diplomats spend so much time pretending that reality was not real? Maybe because it was for reasons like what Carol knew? As much as she held a grudge against the Americans, right now, she also found herself sympathizing with Atwater. The Americans might be big bullies but they also happened to be right about this. If the Orc really did take out the Temple then, the next time it opened, it might be them who came pouring out of it.
The sun had not risen when Carol had arrived at the UN headquarters and, it had already set when she met her motorcade. A red flag went up when she saw the extra security and, if for no other reason than, that security was American. Agent Cutter was there and he even opened the car door for Carol. She was not surprised to see who was waiting in the back of the limo. Carol put her things away as she told her guest, “nice to see you again Alicia. I would ask why you never called but, I know you’ve been busy since the election.”
Alicia Devon returned the smile and with a snarky tone, she replied, “I guess now I should be thanking the Camelonian government for your generous campaign support.”
Carol almost wanted to laugh as the motorcade left the garage, “perhaps you should. I wager that Fox News would be interested in that story. They’re only down in midtown, shall we drive down there and tell them together?”
Alicia snickered defiantly, “good luck with that.” She glanced out of the shaded car window and noted the crowds gathered on the sidewalks around the UN, “it’s getting dark and they’re still at it.”
“The protesters?” Carol waived the notion off, “I thought they were yours, Alicia. It’s your party that’s notorious for that kind of thing.”
Alicia’s smile turned sour when she looked Carol in the eye, “we have a leak Carol. My father extended your people a favor which…” Alicia put her hands up and became frustrated, “I can’t even get over that whole ‘your people’ thing. How long have we known each other? How long have you been lying to me?”
It was not something Carol was even going to deny, “you mean like I’ve had to do my entire life? Alicia, you of all people should know what it’s like to be born into a life that comes with some big duty attached. I have had no control over any of it, just like you.” A dirty little smile appeared on Carol’s lips, “just like when you made friends with, what was his name? You know? That Naval officer that had to follow your…”
Alicia cut her off with a small slice of anger, “if you want to cross the line between personal and professional, I can play dirty too.”
Carol remained agreeable, “I know you can dear. You also know that I would not do that to you, personally, and I can only suspect that is why your father sent you instead of that ugly little woman, Mary.”
“I heard about that,” Alicia replied. “I’m sorry that happened but…”
The window next to Carol cracked into a spider web looking pattern as the vehicle landed on it’s side. She was ever so thankful that it held up. Carol landed on it and she could feel and see pavement scraping by beneath her. She realized she should have been frightened but the ringing in her ears penetrated all the way to her brain. It made conscious thought almost impossible and, by the time her wits began to come back, she realized the vehicle must have slid to a stop sometime before she even realized it. It took an effort to put her sensations into focus and, Carol was not even sure that she had when she felt hands grabbing her.
There was gunfire. along with the awful smell that went with it. It was mixing with the aroma of burning petrol and was quite sickening. Carol could barely focus her eyes and she was not even sure if it was because of the blood, the ringing, a hit to her head, or maybe even the fact that she was being rushed by someone. She found it odd that her thoughts drifted back to John. Was this what he put up with all of the time? How could anyone do that? It was a fleeting thought that was completely forgotten when self preservation took over. Who had grabbed her? When Carol saw Jennifer’s face, she felt a wave of relief. She coughed and asked, “what’s going on?”
Jennifer sighed in anguish as she replied with, “sorry Lady Carol. I really did like you.”
That answer made no sense to Carol. It made even less sense when she saw Jennifer raise the butt of a rifle like she was going to crack Carol’s skull open. All Carol could say was, “oh my god.” Carol closed her eyes just as she heard the world sound as if it were ripping apart.