Duncan sighed at the loss of the probe, but was glad he hadn’t sent anything more essential across the border.  Speaking of which, there seemed to be something akin to a radar sweep emerging from the customs facility just across the border.  Duncan blinked himself away just before it painted him, and it latched on to his departure point for longer than he liked.  He found a low spot in the terrain and ducked out of line of sight to wait until the sweeps stopped.

While he was waiting, he pinged Gwen.  “Any luck with Mr. Hawke?  I’m fairly sure my family has been kidnapped by Disney.”  Duncan chuckled briefly.  “I hope they at least let the kids tour the place.  The trail looked tangled once it entered the park, so that seems possible.”

“I got in touch with him,” replied Gwen.  “He’s still not in the loop.  However, his boss is still interested in talking with you.  Directly.  I was asked to pass along your phone number.  Are you okay with that?”

Duncan sighed.  “May as well.  I’m at the border now, maybe we can talk here.  There’s some kind of magical tripwire at the border, I’d rather not cross it... but I guess we could stand on either side and talk.”

“That could work.  Which means it probably won’t.”

“Pessimist.”

Gwen chuckled.  “The way things are going, I’d say we’re beyond ‘coincidence’ and into ‘enemy action’.  Be careful.  We have no idea what they’re capable of.”

“Don’t really care.  They have my family.  They’d better be wary about what I’m capable of.”

“Calm down.  Getting angry is just going to make things worse.  Now go check out that tripwire to see how far into the ocean it goes.  It’ll give you something to do while you wait.”

Duncan grumped a little but went ahead and did so.  He crafted a drone with sensor that let it follow along outside the tripwire.  While examining the border spell to tune the drone’s sensor, he noticed that there was a gap in it... right in front of the US Customs facility, where twenty lanes of cars were lined up to cross the border.  The active sweep had stopped looking for him, and was instead scanning across the waiting cars.  So that option was out.

The probe went almost due west for 40-odd kilometers, then turned north.  Duncan set a watcher process once it turned, but otherwise ignored it after that.  If he was going to cross, it would be here, closest to his goal.

His phone rang, with an unfamiliar number.  He accepted the call.  “Duncan speaking.”

“Ah, good to talk to you at last Mr. Faulkner.”

“And you are?”

“The master of the tower.”

Duncan snorted.  “You can’t seriously expect me to call you that.”

“Mr. Disney will suffice.”

“One of Walt’s grandkids?”

“His son and heir.  Less so on the mundane side than the... other.”

“I see.  So what, exactly, do you want that was so important you had to kidnap my family?”

“They are unharmed.”

“They are also prisoners.  That’s going to be a problem,” growled Duncan.

“I just want to talk.  Face to face.”

“Then come down here and meet me.  I’ll stay on this side of the border sp... er, barrier.  You can talk to me from the other side.”

“Crossing the border won’t harm you.”

“Something associated with the border did a number on a probe I sent to have a look at your place.  I don’t trust you.”

“That will make this difficult.  I cannot meet you at the border, for reasons I cannot explain to you on an open line.”

“You’re the one making this difficult.  What do you expect me to do?”

“Meet me here, as I asked.  Politely, at first, you might recall.”

Duncan clenched his teeth.  “Then escalated to kidnapping.  I don’t suppose there’s anything I can say that gets them freed?”

“Your help is required.  They’ll have run of the park until you see reason.”

Duncan ended the call before he could say anything that would make matters even worse.

“Calm down,” reassured Gwen via crystal.

“You heard all that?”

“I can hear your teeth grinding, too.  Mackie’s pushing his contacts as hard as he can.  And Bunhill just called.  The Prime Minister will be sending a strongly worded letter tomorrow.”

Duncan rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, that’ll help.”

“It’ll make the issue public.  So far, it’s not being covered by US media, though there’s a fun and completely bollocks story in the Guardian.”

“That’s something, I guess.   Duncan sighed softly.  “I’d have preferred to stay out of the public eye.”

“Oh, hon, I don’t think that was ever going to be possible in the long run.”

“So what should I do now?”

“Nothing too drastic.  They’re safe, there’s time to see what diplomacy can achieve, okay?”

Duncan kicked a rock in annoyance, sending it flying for yards.  He winced when he heard it crash to the ground.  “Okay, I’ll go to ground here.  Walking up to the front door probably isn’t the best idea.  Still might do it.”

Gwen chuckled warmly.  “Patience, love.  It’ll work out in the end.”

Duncan decided that patience would be easier in comfortable surroundings, so he located a nice hotel well back from the border and out of line of sight of the US Customs complex and settled in to wait.  While he was there, the probe checking the continuity of the US seaward border reported in from Victoria.  No gaps..  Duncan sighed, and sent it to his house, parking it in the silver-protected rooftop bay with other crystal craft.

Eventually, Mackie called.  Duncan pounced on the phone, eager for news.  The good news was that Mackie had had a “productive” discussion with his counterpart.  The bad news was that his counterpart was still holding back information.

“All he could tell me was that the grounding of your family’s plan had stirred up a hornet’s nest.  It wasn’t done through the chain of command, and nobody seems to know where the orders came from.  More concerningly, two other squadrons had also been moving toward that aircraft, also on orders that their commanding officers claim not to have given.”

“Great.  So if Disney didn’t yoink them, someone else might have?  Not that that excuses him, but...”

“Him?”

Duncan filled Mackie in on his discussion with the “master of the tower”.

“I suppose the arrogance fits with what we saw before,” mused Mackie.  “You’re going to need a soft touch dealing with him.  Maybe have Donna do it?”

“She’s more pissed than I am.  He has our family, Mackie.  If the full Moon was up right now, Disneyland would be a smoking crater.”

“How would that serve to save your family?”

“I’ve taken precautions.  They’d survive.”

“And a lot of others wouldn’t,” cautioned Mackie.  “Duncan, you can’t just go in guns blazing.  Think about it.”

“My original concern with going there was they’ve had time to prepare the ground.  Possibly a very long time.  I don’t suppose your friend knows anything about Disney’s capabilities?”

“I asked.  He admitted Walt had been working with Project M since the beginning.  Practically founded it back in the 1960s.  He was... less open about what Walt has been up to lately.”

“Lately?  He’s still alive?”

“Officially, yes.  Unofficially, he hasn’t been seen for a few years.”

Duncan’s eyes narrowed in thought.  “I don’t like the sound of that.  How closely does his disappearance match the incident in Detroit?”

“That’s what we’re thinking, too.”

Duncan cursed.  “What a mess.  If the son wanted help with ghouls, there would be easier ways to ask.”

“I’ve discussed that point with James several times.  In the east, the ghoul problem largely took care of itself a couple decades back.  The big ‘mob warfare’ episode was a territorial fight between the remaining ones.  If there are any left, they’re being very quiet.”

“That’s probably not a good thing.  It just means they’re being subtler than Wilhem.”

“Most likely.  Worse, if they know about your activities in Canada they will consider you a threat.”

“Lovely.  That might explain one of the other fighter squadrons.  Assuming a worst-case scenario, who sent the third?”

“There are many people taking an interest in you.  You’ve moved up on several most wanted lists, including the FBI’s.”

“But you’ve been talking to them about me!” protested Duncan.  “Hasn’t that helped?”

“Do you think what they learned made them more worried or less worried?”

Duncan winced.  “I see.  And none of that serves to intimidate them into freeing my family?”

“Perhaps you aren’t threatening enough.”

“Yet.”

“Duncan...  Don’t do anything rash.”

Duncan agreed reluctantly, and ended the call.

Eventually, he slept.

The next day produced no great revelations.  Shortly after moonrise, Duncan sent another probe up over the wire, to see if he could trace more information about his family.  Blinking it across the border still produced a ping.  While that produced grudging respect for the designer of the tripwire, it also proved inconvenient, because it did not last long in Disney airspace.

Still, he could see that his family had moved about the park during the day, though judging by the trail they’d been very recently sent back into the dorm building for safekeeping.  He sent another probe across, with different sensors to determine what it could about that building, and how it was shielded.  He didn’t learn much from the probe’s brief existence, but it seemed like passive shielding, likely silver.  Enough silver to line the walls seemed excessive, so it was probably thin.  Which meant that punching a few holes in the wall would probably suffice.

Gwen suggested sending a communication crystal to the master of the tower.  After various circumlocutions Mr. Hawke was persuaded to make the attempt, and got permission to cross the border to meet in person.

They agreed to meet at an open-air cafe that Mr. Hawke was familiar with.  Duncan arrived early, and nursed a hot chocolate as he waited.  When Thomas arrived, Duncan waved to him.  “Good to see you again.”

Thomas smiled.  “So this is you, hm?  Last time we met you looked a bit different.”

Duncan chuckled and nodded to acknowledge the point.  “Just a bit.”  He rose to shake Thomas’ hand, pressing a small metal case into it as he did so.

They sat for a time and talked obliquely about the current situation.  Thomas had, indeed, seen the Faulkner family, and reassured Duncan that they were all well, and that the kids had been delighted by the chance to see behind the scenes at Disneyland.  “They’ve been treated royally.”

Duncan sighed.  “That’s good.  Still more than a little pissed about all this cloak and dagger crap.”

“I hear you.  And I have far less idea of what’s going on, I’m afraid.  I’m just a messenger.”

Duncan was no longer listening.  Two black SUVs had just pulled up outside the cafe, and men in unmarked uniforms bailed out.  “Yours?” he asked mildly.

Thomas shook his head.  “Afraid not.  Boss really does want to talk, this would be stupid.”

“Go quietly, deal with it later?”

“They have very large guns.”

Duncan slowly stood to face the men who were moving toward them.  “Can I help you gentlemen?”

The lead soldier said nothing, but gestured toward the SUV.  Duncan followed along quietly.  He did see that Thomas was taken to the other SUV.  He also noticed that there were two squad cars of local police watching and doing nothing.

So he made no fuss, and waited to see what would happen.  The bag over his head was both melodramatic and pointless, so he chuckled.

“Something funny?” barked one of the soldiers.

“Not yet.”

“Shut it, then.”

The ride that followed had a variety of twists and turns, but Duncan could sense the border and the customs house, so he could tell that he was in the end brought to a building not far from either.  They hustled him into the building, through it to a room in the back.  The back wall of the room backed onto the border.

When the bag over Duncan’s head was removed, he glanced around the room.  The chair he’d been dumped in and cuffed to, a table, and another chair.  Bright lights in the ceiling focussed primarily on him.  The walls had anechoic padding.  One door, of the solid metal variety.  One “mirror” that was blatantly obviously two-way glass.

“Well.  Now that you have me, what do you want to know?”

The soldier in the room with him shook his head, then headed out the door and it shut with a clang and the grating sound of a heavy bolt sliding home.

Duncan waited patiently.  Moonrise was only a few hours off, and then things would get interesting...

He was pleased to note that the crystal he’d given Mr. Hawke left the building and headed toward the border crossing.  Hopefully something useful would come of that.

An hour later a man in a plain grey suit entered the room, and sat at the table across from Duncan.  Both men studied each other.  Duncan figured his counterpart was about his age, and had a good poker face.

“Is it even worth asking why?”

“I ask the questions here.”

“You had specific intel on me.  Who sent you?”

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

Duncan shrugged.  “Do I look intimidated?”

The grey-suited man’s eyes narrowed.  “You will be.”

“I’m in a black site in Mexico, run by ... let’s go with the CIA until I hear otherwise.  You don’t know what you’re dealing with, so you’re not high enough in the food chain to know what’s really going on.  Who does?”

“I’m asking the questions here.”

“You’re not doing a very good job of it.  What do you want to know?”

The man lifted his briefcase onto the table, and opened it on an array of sharp tools.  Duncan snorted derisively.  The man raised one eyebrow briefly, then selected a gleaming knife and set it on the table.

Duncan waited.  Eventually the man pulled an apple out of his case, and sliced off a piece with the knife.  He ate the slice, then proceeded to work his way through the rest of the apple.

“Congratulations,” said Duncan after a time.  “You can use a sharp knife and not cut yourself.”

If there was a frown at that, it was slight and brief.  The methodical slices continued.

While they were doing so, Duncan focussed on his crystal link with Gwen.  At his prompting, she called Mr. Hawke, and found that he had been released after a quick check of his ID.  She called Mackie next, to see if his contacts could find out who was running black ops sites in Tijuana.  The answer that came back was not comforting.  “Who isn’t?”

When the man was finished, he left the core standing on the table, cleaned the knife, and put it away.

“Tick tock.  I won’t be here forever.”

“You’ll be here long enough to make the core appealing.”

Duncan shrugged.  “You left half the apple.  Looked like a nice enough one not to waste that much.  Pink Lady?”

That got another slight furrow of annoyance.  “Name?”

“Duncan Faulkner.  Which you should hopefully know, or this is going to be very dull.”

“Occupation?”

“DSP Engineer.  By day.  Nights get more interesting.”

The next few questions were equally dull ones about his background and schooling.

“Is this an interview?” asked Duncan after they’d finished with Waterloo.  “Because it’s the oddest one I’ve ever run across.”

“Of a sort.”

When the questions turned to friends and associates, Duncan stopped answering.  “Figure that out for yourself.”

“Free with your own information, but not that about others?  Commendable.  It won’t help.  We will learn what we want to know.”

Duncan shrugged.  “Then ask a useful question.  You’ve got time for... hmm, about two, I think.”

“Are you a threat to the security of the United States?”

“Yes.”

That, at last, got a reaction, a look of surprise that was not immediately schooled away.  “Most people don’t admit such things so candidly.”

“I’m not your average engineer.  Last question.”

“Why?”

Duncan smiled as he felt the Moon rise, and the stored power he was holding come alive.  “Because you have my family.  Until they are safe, none of you are.  My turn.”

A flicker of power slipped hardened air under the band of the man’s watch, blocking the silvering on the back of the watch from touching his skin.  Another touched his mind, studying the very subtle spell sitting there.  Just a basic loyalty enhancer... or so it seemed on the surface. Subtly woven into it was something a little more...comprehensive.  Duncan touched it just so, and it flowered into something that could turn the man into little more than a robot.  Another flick of power dispelled it, an replaced it with a simple inhibition blocker.

“Tell me your name,” said Duncan.

“Winston Carroll.”

“Who do you work for?”

“Blackstone Consulting.”

Duncan chuckled softly.  “And they’re a contractor for which US agency?”

“The CIA, as you surmised.”

The door to the room slammed open, and a man wearing a somewhat nicer grey suit burst in.  “What the hell are you up to, Winston?”

Duncan turned to face him.  “Ah, perhaps you have the answers I need.”  The door slammed shut, and more bits of air blocked the silver protecting the new man.  Watch, wristband, and something cleverly worked into his ankle holster.

This one had no loyalty spell, which made Duncan smile.  “High enough in the food chain not to be subjugated.  Curious.  Who does your work?  He’s quite good.”

“None of your business.”

Duncan studied the mental image.  “Hm.  Nobody I know, yet.  Might have to fix that.  Why is the CIA after me?”

“That’s above my pay-grade.  You’re number three on our list, and we got a tip as to where you’d be.”

“And you have no idea why I’m on the list?  Or what I’m capable of?”

“No.  I appear to have been badly under-informed, if you can turn my agents so easily.”

Duncan snapped his fingers.  “Sorry, shouldn’t leave messes behind.  He’s free.  Of the loyalty spell, too.  You should look into that, it’s dangerous.  There’s a control spell buried deep inside it.”

“And I’m supposed to take your word on that?”

“You have a forensic caster somewhere.  Get them to have a look.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because someone used something like that spell to intercept my family while flying over the US.  If such spells are prevalent, the entire command structure of your government is rotten to the core.”

That got a wry chuckle.  “You don’t know the half of it.  I don’t care what you think you’re capable of, that is an Augean Stable past the power of any Hercules.”

“I just want my family safe.  The rest is your problem.”

“Not my agency’s purview.”

Duncan’s eyes narrowed.  “If you want a home to go back to, you might want to make it your problem.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Yes.  I will go through anything that gets in my way.”

“If that’s the case, why are you still here?”

Duncan stood up, and tossed his cuffs onto the table.  “Curiosity.  One last question.  Who would know why the CIA is interested?”

“Nobody here.”

“Then where?  Never mind.  Washington.”

“Exactly.  What should I tell them?”

“That they’ve sorely underestimated me.  Goodbye.”

Duncan walked to the door, and it unlocked and opened at his touch.  To his surprise, the guards made no effort to stop him on the way out, and he simply walked out of the building and into the bright sun of the day.  He continued walking back in to town, quite aware that a man in a grey suit was following at a discreet distance.

“Hey Gwen, I finished playing with the CIA.  Can you get Mackie to keep an eye on those wanted lists?  I suspect my position’s about to change.”