When Cassie arrived at the Federal Building near LAX twenty minutes later, a C.I.A. agent named Shawna Eason was waiting for her in the underground garage.
Eason whisked Cassie through every security checkpoint without even stopping and up to the holding floor with its interrogation rooms.
While his features hadn’t changed, Anatoly Argentov had aged considerably since the Paris summit. His hair had receded but he still had his long rat nose and cunning eyes.
The K.G.B. spy wore an orange prison jumpsuit, ankle cuffs and handcuffs. These were linked through ringbolts on a table which itself was screwed to the floor.
Cassie sat opposite him.
It was just the two of them in the bland cinderblock room, but Cassie knew there were people watching through the two-way mirror.
Argentov grinned, revealing sickly yellow teeth. ‘The fabled natural daughter of Cobalt. The one who hid.’
‘You said you could help me,’ Cassie said simply.
Argentov nodded. ‘It was wise to hide. The others, your half-siblings, living so publicly, he knew all about them long ago. The Army poster boy. The policeman in Chicago. The troubled genius. The funny gay one. But not you. You are a mystery. We don’t even know what powers you have.’
‘Get to the point.’
‘He hated your mother. Hated her with a passion. Fate threw them together in the Arctic. In no other circumstances would they have ever met. She was everything he was not. American. Educated. Articulate. Poised. And she had money.’
‘Not a lot. She was a scientist.’
‘He grew up in poverty. Not American poverty, Russian poverty. Bitter cold, starvation. He barely had an eighth-grade education. Then the Russian Army, even more bitter. His name is no idle propaganda. He is anger. He is rage. He is fury.’
‘You got ten seconds to say what this has to do with me?’
‘After they were infected, he felt a kinship with your mother. Two people with identical powers, alone in the world. He propositioned her at the summit and she rebuffed him.’
‘I know. She told me,’ Cassie said.
‘It made him hate her even more.’
‘He asked her to mate with him. At least my dad bought her dinner first—’
‘That she was married to a studious little man only enraged him more. He is literally the most powerful man on Earth and she chooses a bespectacled nerd over him.’
‘My father was a wonderful man. My mother loved him till the day he died.’
‘You know, in Russia, we also have a clever one.’
‘What?’
‘Like your Cobalt Black. A Russian child who got a superbrain.’
‘So?’ Cassie said.
‘Our genius analysed the Fury. His mind. His motivations . . .’ Argentov leaned forward, again showing his ugly yellow canines. ‘The Fury now considers you to be her.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you are natural-born. The others came from test tubes, from the seeds of men selected by your government for their strength, their fighting skills or their IQs. Seeds that were inserted into eggs donated by your mother. But not you.’
‘The Fury wants you. Like he wanted her. His pathology runs deep, born from the miserable life he lived until the day he acquired his powers. The poor Russian sergeant wants to own the brilliant American woman. Your half-siblings, he will kill them without a moment’s thought. But you face a fate far worse. He wants to make you his bride, his sex slave, his leashed pet in front of the world. My point is: since he could not do this with your mother, he wants to do it with you.’
Cassie leaned back, horrified.
‘Why are you telling me this?’ she said.
At that, Argentov threw his head back and cackled crazily.
‘Little girl. I just wanted to see the look on your face when you found out.’
His cackling grew in intensity . . . and mania. Cassie got up and left the room.
The sound of his laughter followed her down the corridor.
Trey was waiting for her in a cubicle farm at the end of the hallway. ‘Well?’ he asked.
‘You don’t want to know,’ Cassie said.
‘I’m your husband.’
‘That’s why you don’t want to know.’
The C.I.A. lady, Eason, came up to them. ‘The Fury just attacked Witness Protection headquarters in Denver. Grabbed Walters. She didn’t talk so he killed her.’
Cassie gasped. ‘Connie-Anne? Holy shit.’
‘But then he found a computer guy, Emmett something. Tortured the poor kid till he pulled up your file. The Fury knows everything about you, what you look like, where you work, who you married, and your home address here in L.A.’
‘Jesus,’ Trey said.
‘He knows where we live . . .’ Cassie said. She began to hyperventilate. And he’d murdered Connie-Anne. Gruff yet kind, the U.S. Marshal had stayed loyal to Cassie to the end, till he killed her.
‘Cassie, you okay—?’ Trey said.
Cassie was breathing faster and faster. ‘I can’t—I need—I’ve got to go somewhere I can—’
She was losing it.
Trey took her firmly by the arm and looked her squarely in the eye.
‘Hey,’ he said. ‘I got you.’
Cassie blinked uncomprehendingly.
Trey added, ‘I may not have any superpowers, but I got your back. Come with me.’
He said it with such calm assurance, she settled down a bit. He guided her gently down the hallway toward the elevators.
As they walked, Cassie regathered herself and threw a sideways look at her young husband.
‘You do have a superpower, by the way,’ she said.
‘What’s that?’
‘Bravery.’
‘Yeah? When was I brave?’ Trey asked.
‘When you met my mother the first time,’ Cassie said.
TREY
DILLON, MONTANA
FOUR YEARS AGO
Every couple has to do it and every couple dreads it: meeting the parents.
What few couples have to negotiate, however, is the situation where one of the parents is a living national treasure and possesses superpowers.
Thus it was that Cassie and Trey came to the small town of Dillon, Montana, the site of her parents’ new ranch house, with its many miles of empty surrounding land.
In addition to his glasses, Trey was wearing his Sunday best: a sports coat, shirt and tie.
As they entered the ranch house, Cassie’s dad was waiting for them, in his wheelchair. Cobalt was nowhere to be seen.
‘So this is him, huh?’ Arnold Cobalt said, rolling over and extending his hand. ‘Arnold Cobalt.’
‘Trey Cassowitz, sir.’
‘Please, call me Arnie. Usually boyfriends are afraid of meeting a girl’s father, but I’m under no illusions here. It’s Mom who’s the scary one. Wanna beer?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘Mind if I have one?’
‘Not at all.’
Arnie turned to Cassie. ‘I like him already! Sit, sit. Yeah, I imagine it’s hard to “meet the parents” when one of them can literally break you in half. Cassie’s mom is out back in the study. Just got a call from the Joint Chiefs about something or other.’
Cassie and Trey sat on the couch facing her dad.
‘Okay . . .’ Trey said.
Arnie added, ‘Did I mention she could break you in half?’
‘Dad!’ Cassie said.
Arnie Cobalt laughed. He was loving this. ‘Cassie says you’re an engineer at SpaceX.’
‘I am,’ Trey said. ‘In rocket propellant. Cassie and I met during a J.P.L.–SpaceX collaboration. I’d see this mysterious female engineer finishing the night shift. Took me a month to work up the courage to ask her on a date—’
At that moment, Christine Cobalt entered the living room in her full white-and-sky-blue superhero uniform.
She had always been tall, but the uniform made her seem taller, made her dominate a room, any room.
Gentleman that he was, Trey stood up instantly.
‘So this is him?’ the great hero said, her voice booming. ‘Trey, right? Trey Cassowitz.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Please, call me Chris.’
‘Sure . . . Chris.’
Cobalt stepped around and behind her husband’s wheelchair. ‘Trey. Cassie here is my only natural child—’
She cut herself off, turned to Arnie.
‘Did you tell him about how I could break him in half?’
‘Of course,’ Arnie said gleefully.
‘Well, there’s not much I can add,’ Christine Cobalt said. ‘Break her heart and I break you, Trey.’
Cassie squirmed like every girl in history who had brought a guy home to meet her parents.
But Trey wasn’t squirming. His eyes stayed level. He was still standing.
‘Ma’am,’ he said. ‘I thought your daughter was super long before she told me she was your daughter. I love her, so it’s infinitely more likely she’ll break my heart first.’
Cassie assessed the looks on her parents’ faces.
Her dad was a sweetheart. She knew he’d like Trey.
But her mom was a different story. Years of being a superhero and mingling with presidents, politicians and generals had made her jaded, untrusting.
But this answer from Trey, delivered so calmly, had landed.
Christine and Arnie Cobalt exchanged looks, then they both burst out laughing.
‘Good answer, Trey Cassowitz,’ the great Cobalt said. ‘Sit down, son. I like the cut of your jib.’