"I believe that some of their reaction may be because the general consensus of the Australian people is that you're both heroes," Peter said as he slid another brownie my way.

"How so?" I asked with my mouth only sort of full.

"Since discovering what happened, I've had everyone in the Zoo monitoring. From what they tell me, the majority of the Aussies think you and Jeff are fantastic. Your popularity scores are going through the roof."

"Wait, so why is everyone freaking out?"

"Your popularity is high," Evalyne said, as "Sins of My Youth" by the Neon Trees came on. "But Prime Minister Costello's is not, and this is feeding the very vocal const.i.tuency that doesn't like him."

"Meaning, you made him look bad and his people loved it, so he's even more p.i.s.sed," Phoebe translated.

"Ah. So, politically, we're great if Jeff and I wanted to run for office in Australia, but we've made our ally look bad and because his people loved it, he wants to make a point."

"Pretty much," Vander said. "It's fixable, Kitty. It always is."

"So you guys always say." Figured this was a safe bet. Everyone's grins indicated I'd guessed right. Go me. I was batting a thousand. Did not expect this winning streak to last.

"So, what are our thoughts?" Singh asked. "Obviously we need to craft a very good apology, but we also need to give them some kind of gift."

The others started brainstorming presents, some grandiose, some small, all expensive. But as the Psych Fur's "House" came on, I ignored them and thought back. We were talking about people I knew well, and it was wounded pride that was giving special interests a wedge in they were capitalizing on.

If we wanted Tony back on our side, we needed Margie to come around first. And Margie wasn't going to come around based on some lavish gift. She'd want something personal and meaningful, not something that was showing off.

So what could we get a couple who had pretty much everything? Thought about what was in their home. No, that wasn't right. Matching wasn't the key.

As "The Ballad of Mona Lisa" from Panic! At The Disco came on, I thought farther back. When we'd first hit Australia we'd run into Lulu, their eldest daughter. She was younger than us, but we'd hit it off and hung out, met her friends, and their friends, and had found ourselves within a group where we fit.

When we'd found out I was pregnant, both my mother and Chuckie's were far away. Lulu had introduced us to her parents then, and Margie, the mother of three, had taken me under her wing. She'd become our "Australian mother" even though she was a little too young to be our mother. But she filled that role happily and willingly, and we loved her for it.

And, to thank her for that, I'd given her a gift on Mother's Day. It was a gift she treasured, and I knew this because it hung with the things her own daughters had given her over the years. And every year, when we exchanged gifts, she still told me that this first Mother's Day gift from me was her favorite.

Touched Singh's hand and leaned toward him. He leaned in to me, so I could speak softly. "Do we have a way to see if there's something specific in the PM couple's home? Without their knowing, I mean."

"Yes. Why?"

"Because I think I know what will work, but first, I have to make sure they don't have one already."

"If you can describe what they're looking for, I can have their house searched in the next fifteen minutes." He grinned at my expression. "Yes, we're really that fast. And yes, they'll never know because we're that fast."

He got me a pad of paper and a pencil and I scribbled a description and even did a serviceable drawing. "It's made of crystal, and if it's there, it should be hanging up."

"I'll have them search everything in case it's packed somewhere." Singh took the paper and walked off, presumably to make the call.

As he left, "Sugar, We're Goin Down" by Fall Out Boy hit the airwaves, and Malcolm came in. "Hi, where have you been?"

"Around." He looked at the others. "Can I steal Missus Chief away for a minute?"

"Sure, everyone else is handling the brainstorming." I got up and we also left the kitchen. Singh was nowhere around. "Where did Raj go?"

"His office," Malcolm pointed to a nearby door. He walked us down the hall toward the bas.e.m.e.nt.

"Uh, why are we going here?"

"I need to talk to you, and I don't want anyone else hearing us."

"Okay. Why?"

"Because I saw how you looked at one of the people in the room today."

"How could you? You weren't there."

"No, I wasn't. However, I was watching."

"Why?"

"It's my job. Watching over you and your daughter is my mission. Period. I generously include your husband, both of them," he added with a grin. "But only because they matter to you."

"Well, that's nice. You know, do I know you? In my world, I mean. You seem . . . familiar. Beyond having met and interacted today, I mean." We headed downstairs to the dark and creepy bas.e.m.e.nt.

"You probably do. Like I told you, your mother recruited me out of college. She a.s.signed me to watch Missus Chief and Baby Chief when you all came to Washington. But if you were married to our resident genius as young as you say and were living half the time in D.C., I'd bet Angela a.s.signed me to watch over you then. So you may have noticed me, off and on, but we'd never have actually interacted unless I had to physically get you out of danger."

Malcolm flipped a switch and there was light. Which didn't make the bas.e.m.e.nt any better but at least it was a lot less creepy now. Also noted that I couldn't hear the music down here, which was disappointing.

"Ah. Okay. And no, not that I can recall. So, why are we here?"

Malcolm sighed. "Because I don't just think the Mastermind is a human-I know he is. In fact, I'm pretty sure I know who he is. And while both of your husbands think this situation with Australia is top priority, I don't. Stopping the person responsible for every action against Centaurion Division and, by extension, the P.T.C.U. and other organizations is the most important priority we have."

"How do you know that if the others don't? And if you know, why haven't you told them?"

"I know because I look at people, things, and situations very differently from the rest of the people involved. And I'm willing to believe the word of a parrot."

CHAPTER 33.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, it's your fault if Jamie has autism?"

Chuckie shook his head and didn't answer. Thought about all the various conspiracies he'd told me about over the years, especially those about the C.I.A.

"You think the C.I.A. gave you some drug, don't you?"

"I do." The words sounded dragged out of him, and his voice was very low. Got the distinct impression he hadn't shared these thoughts with Reader. It was clear he'd never shared them with Other Me. I could tell by how he was acting.

"Did my mother approve that? Is it something you remember happening?"

"No to both, but there's no other explanation that makes sense." He sounded desperate, and desperately scared. I wasn't used to Chuckie being this emotional-he was normally laid-back and cool. Intense in bed, yes, and in a good way, but otherwise, he'd learned to keep his cool before I'd ever met him.

Considered my reply carefully therefore. "Autism could be caused by someone slipping you some LSD or something you don't remember, sure. But there are so many other factors." Extremely high intelligence, for example. Figured that wasn't going to be a comforting alternate, so kept it to myself. "Besides, I realize that your Jamie is a lot quieter than mine, but she doesn't seem off."

"Really? Have you seen her room?"

"Yeah. The mirror is a little . . . odd, I'll give you that. But she's clearly functioning at a high level."

"She's not a normal kid, and not in the way Charlie and Max aren't normal. Her interactions with us are limited-she'd rather stare at that mirror all day and night than leave the house, let alone interact with any of us. It's like she's addicted to TV or video games, but at least with those there would be something we could deal with in a straightforward way. When we try to limit her mirror time she gets . . . difficult."

"You mean she throws a temper tantrum."

He nodded. "Of epic proportions. And it's not just that. She's listless and uninterested most of the time unless she's in front of her mirrors. The few times she really communicates she comes out with these proclamations of doom. Never of anything good, and certainly not all the time. Usually she's wrong. But there are times she's been right. Charlie told me that Jamie said you were all going upside down today, in the car, before they left the garage. She wanted everyone to stay home. And, she was right. It was a dangerous situation."

"Yeah. One I realize Other Me wouldn't have survived. Okay, we'll deal with that as we can, but I want you to look at me, right in my eyeb.a.l.l.s." He did. "You are not responsible for this, any more than Other Me is. If your Jamie really is autistic, this is not a 'fault' situation. This is a 'pull together and figure it out' situation, but you aren't to blame. And I can guarantee Other Me would feel the same way. If, you know, you actually told her."

"I can't," he muttered, as he dropped his eyes again. "She'd never forgive me."

I snorted. "Dude, seriously. She's going to have the same 'what the h.e.l.l?' reaction I did when the truth comes out, but that's all. I'll tell you what she's going to be mad about-you lying to her about what you and James do and Mom did. That's going to be something you need to apologize for. I'm sure she'll understand-I did, when I found out. But at the same time, that's the betrayal. Not this."

"She thinks I'm cheating on her, when we're on missions I can't tell her about." He sounded ready to break down. This was not good.

"Dude, stop doing this to yourself. And to her. Tell her the d.a.m.n truth. Sure, she'll worry, but she worries now. Let her worry about the reality, not the lie. I mean, unless you are cheating on her."

He looked up and his eyes flashed. "Kitty, you've been the only woman I've ever loved in my life. No, I'm not cheating on you. Her. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do." Heaved a sigh. "It took the you in my world a long time to get over me, so I can easily believe this. What I can't believe is that you haven't worked together to fix your Jamie. And you haven't by the way you're acting, and by the way everyone else is acting. Use the word. Own the word. Find out if the word is right. But stop hiding from the word. Not saying the word doesn't change the reality. Only doing something positive, or negative, can change the reality."

He nodded and gave me a weak smile. "I suppose you're right."

"You said you thought Marling was a quack. Why?"

"Jamie doesn't seem to like music, even though Kitty and the boys do. He said that she's listening to a different soundtrack in her head, and once we can find that frequency, then we can really get through to her."

"Yeah, I can actually understand that-both why you think it's crazy and why I think it could make sense. Though, honestly, there hasn't been one thing I've said to her or done with her today that she's hasn't fully comprehended and been involved with."

Chuckie eyed me for a long couple of seconds. "Yeah. She's responding to you much more than she does her real mother."

"Yeah, and I think that-unlike Charlie, who thought I was Other Me, or Max, who was sure I wasn't-Jamie knew from the get-go that I was someone else, but she wanted me here."

Chuckie rubbed the back of his neck. "It's getting more complicated, the more we talk about it, not less."

"True, but when you switch universes, some complication needs to be expected. We need to stop powwowing, by the way. James has been blocking us from Julio and Bernie, and Malcolm seems to be indicating that the other two are conscious, so we need to decide what we do with them."

"We'll have the Agency pick them up."

"That sounds good, but I have another question for Julio before we go that route." Chuckie's concerns had brought up something I needed to check.

Trotted back to Lopez and Bernie. She was glaring at me, he looked worried. Showing he was smarter than he looked. "Julio, have a question for you. Bernie, I've tortured stuff out of him while you were unconscious. I don't want to have to do that again. So, your choice-I knock you out, which I am all for, or you don't blame Julio for wanting to not have to drop trou again."

"Fine," she snarled. "It doesn't matter what he tells you-I'll get you for murdering my husband."

"Oh, blah, blah, blah. I hear that a lot. Don't care. And, trust me, it's taking everything I have to not just break your neck right now. I'd shut the h.e.l.l up if I were you." Bernie subsided and I turned back to Lopez. "So, Julio, the people we were discussing, the ones running the Corporation, where in the government do they work, do you know?"

"No idea. Really."

Saw Bernie smirk out of the corner of my eye. So she knew. "Bernie, I have a proposition for you. You give me something I want, I give you something you want."

"What's that?" she sneered. "To let me live?"

"Actually, no. To let Raul live."

"You killed him already," she snapped.

Showing he was paying attention, Buchanan dragged a body with a black bag over its head in front of Bernie. He pulled the bag up, showing Raul, alive if not overwhelmingly well. Bernie and Lopez both gasped. Nice to know they really thought we'd killed him. Told me that these were probably enemies it wasn't going to be wise to show mercy toward. Worked for me.

Buchanan put the bag back over Raul's head, pulled a gun, and put it against the bag. "Tell her what she wants to know, or I get rid of this piece of trash for real."

"There aren't real bullets in your gun," Bernie sneered.

Buchanan turned the gun on her and shot her in the thigh in less than a second. Apparently Buchanan was on the "show no mercy" mindset already.

I managed not to let my jaw drop while Bernie screamed. Didn't look to see if Chuckie and Reader approved of this-because if I showed weakness now, Buchanan was going to actually have to kill these people. And while I was willing to do it, I didn't want us to have to.

"It's a clean shot," he said. "You can get patched up and be fine. If you tell us what we want to know. Otherwise, I shoot him in the head with the rest of the very real bullets in my very real gun."

"They work for the C.I.A.," Bernie said through gritted teeth. "Somewhere in there, we don't know where. But when Reid was in charge, he always indicated that his right hand was hidden in the C.I.A., and from all that he's done since taking over, it sounds right."

"What are their names?" I asked. "Papa Patrn and Seora de Muerte. What are their real names?"

She shook her head. "I don't know." But her eyes flicked to Raul.

"Raul knows," I told Buchanan. He pulled off the bag and ripped off the duct tape covering Raul's mouth. "I know you've heard everything. Tell us the names, or my friend here gets to shoot your wife wherever he wants."

"You claim to be better than us, but you're not," Raul growled.

"No, see, we are better than you. We don't have your little kids here and we aren't trying to kill them. We also didn't attack you without warning-you attacked us. These are simple distinctions. You're just bitter that we were able to stop you and turn the tables, so to speak. Now, answer my question or watch what happens to your wife."

Buchanan pointed his gun at Bernie's other thigh. "Hard to walk if you're shot up in both legs," he said conversationally.

"The woman, no one knows her real name," Raul said quickly. "They call each other by their Corporation aliases at all times and she didn't show up until Seor Reid was killed. The man, though, I've heard different names for him. But they're all aliases, too, I can guarantee it."

"Give them to me."

"Seor Reid called him Michael Corleone, I heard him introduced as Faralln Tipobueno to a few businessmen, but mostly it was Menor Patrn, Junior Boss, until he took over."

"Why does he wear a mask?"