Part 45 (1/2)

”-or if they were in some way tipped off. Because the coverage was so widespread, it's taxing our resources to try to pin that down.”

I said something like ”Hmm.”

She glanced at me. ”What?”

”Mother Night seems pretty savvy herself, and she's clearly using the media as a weapon. But at the same time we have to consider whether she knows how the investigative system works. If she's the computer genius she appears to be-”

”She is,” said Bug.

”-then she might have counted on investigative agencies targeting the media for deep background checks and thereby allocating resources that might otherwise be useful in hunting her.”

”What else could we do, though?” asked Rudy. ”Don't we have to make those background searches?”

”Absolutely,” I agreed. ”I'm not saying we're making a wrong move. What I'm saying is that she may have played a good card and we have to accept it.”

Church nodded. ”In light of her other moves, I think that's a fair a.s.sumption.” He nodded to Circe to continue.

”I don't think Mother Night's ultimate goal is terrorism,” she said, and held up a silencing hand as we all started to speak. ”Hear me out. Rudy and I have been wrangling with this all day. Most of you have heard this already.” She recounted what Rudy had said to me before the meeting regarding the elements of anarchy. ”If she was using bombs in order to create chaos then her picks were clumsy and moderately ineffectual. A law library and a martial arts sporting event? Don't get me wrong, those bombs were devastating and there was terrible loss of life, but this is Labor Day weekend. There are parades, ma.s.s gatherings, ball games, concerts. If she'd wanted to rack up a body count to create genuine chaos, she could have picked a thousand more useful targets.”

”So what was the point?” asked Aunt Sallie. ”To get the media's attention? She already had that.”

”No,” said Circe, ”I think we can call the hacking phase one, with the goal being to energize the media. Phase two was the bombings, and that effectively brought every law enforcement agency to point. Bombings will do that in post-9/11 America. The way the media covers it and the pervasive buzz of social media only serve to reinforce that conditioning. It's very Pavlovian.”

”And phase three is the subway?” asked Aunt Sallie.

Circe nodded. ”Sure. Phases one and two nicely set up phase three so that the false message conveyed by the altered soundtrack-that the government is using illegal force on ordinary citizens-was something the media helped sell to a willing audience. It's really very smart. Get the media and everyone in the country watching, then bring all emergency response teams to a state of high alert so that armed cops and soldiers are in the streets in certain places. It doesn't matter that they're not in every street, but the sensitized, ratings-hungry media will make it seem that way. Prior to the subway the media rolled footage of SWAT teams, cops, and other emergency responders as part of the message that 'America is responding to terrorism'; but once that video went out, the message automatically changed to 'America responds to a threat by using lethal force against its own people.'”

”The logic doesn't hold,” said Hu.

”It doesn't have to hold. It has to be big. In media terms it has to dominate the conversation, and right now that is the only conversation.”

I said, ”I can see it, Circe, but then I hit a wall at high speed. What's Mother Night want from all of this? Now that she has everyone's attention, what's she selling?”

”Ah,” said Circe, ”that's where I hit a wall, too.”

Rudy said, ”If, as we agree, the logic does not hold, then we have to wonder if that is a known variable. In other words, does it need to hold? Mother Night would have to know that this would eventually be picked apart and, to some degree, defused. That would suggest that this is a plot of limited duration, yes?”

We all nodded.

”Then,” concluded Rudy, ”if we can predict the time it would take for the story to crumble, then wouldn't that give us an idea of the timetable for whatever Mother Night's larger plan is?”

In the thoughtful silence that followed, everyone began nodding, first to themselves as they worked it through according to their own insights, and then to the group.

”That's very good, doctor,” said Church. ”Circe ... public perception and reaction is your field. Can you project a timetable?”

She chewed her lip. ”With the prevalence of social media everything is faster. Action and reaction. Ballpark guess? I think whatever Mother Night is doing-providing she needs the social and media disruption she's created as a cover-then I think we have twelve to twenty-four hours to figure it out and stop her. And maybe not even that long.”

That was not good news. It took the clock that was ticking in my mind and bolted it to the wall in front of us. Twelve hours to make sense of the senseless, to solve a puzzle whose shape and meaning was completely unknown to us.

Swell.

Right around the time I wondered if we were doing any d.a.m.n good at all, like maybe we should turn jurisdiction of this case over to a more competent group-say, the Cub Scouts or a group of mimes-Bug interrupted with a news update.

”What do you have?” asked Church.

”Nothing good.”

”Can I go home?” I asked. Church ignored me.

Bug said, ”Our field lab in Virginia finished their preliminary examination of the mercenaries Shockwave ran into this morning. There's absolutely no doubt about it ... they're Berserkers.”

We'd all been expecting that. Absolutely sucked, though.

”But here's the kicker,” continued Bug, ”we had a molecular biologist and two pathologists examine the bodies, and our field investigators did a load of interviews with family and known a.s.sociates of the dead Berserkers. And ... these guys are new to the whole mutant supersoldier job description. They were all normal eight to ten months ago, but there's no way they were part of the Berserker team at the Dragon Factory. We're running background checks on them, and so far we've proven that three of them were in the military on overseas deployment during the raid on Dogfish Cay. So ... bottom line? Someone's making new Berserkers.”

Chapter Seventy-one.

Grand Hyatt Hotel 109 East Forty-second Street New York City Sunday, August 31, 4:17 p.m.

Violin had accompanied Junie back to the hotel and followed the DMS agents from room to room, making sure that everything was secure. Then, when they were positioned out in the hallway, Violin checked the suite again, this time scanning it with a small electronic device she produced from her bag. Once she determined that the room was truly secure, she and Junie sat on the couch and watched the news. They had some food sent up, which Violin again checked using a small chemical a.n.a.lyzer. They drank wine. They watched horrors on TV. They did not hear from Joe Ledger.

Finally, Violin stood up and reached for her bag, removed her cell phone, went into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and called her mother.

”What is it?” That was how her mother usually answered the phone. Lilith was not known for social graces.

”You are aware of what is happening in America?”

”Of course I am, girl,” snapped Lilith. ”Do you think I've gone blind?”

Violin let that pa.s.s. ”The Deacon's people are being stretched dangerously thin.”

”So?”

”So, I would like to offer them our help.”

”Our help or your help?”

”Mine, if we have no one else here in the States.”

Lilith paused. ”It is my understanding that Captain Ledger is in love with another woman.”

”Yes,” said Violin.

”Make sure that your motives are quite clear, girl.”