Rook

phrase “do you understand?”
    “Well, frankly, sir,” she fumbled. “Today is Saturday, and although we have many people working over the weekend, we may not have enough.”
Yes, that makes complete sense,
she thought, and tried to interpret Ingrid’s expression.
    “What have you done, that you need more people to get him?” came the suspicious question. Myfanwy’s head had begun pounding again, and since the tender ministrations of Dr. Wills and Dr. Engel had turned out not to be so tender, her own tender bits were aching. She took a sip of reclaimed coffee and winced.
Diplomacy isn’t working. Good manners aren’t working. Hell, even sanity isn’t working,
she thought.
I’m just going to have to talk plainly with this thing.
She took a deep breath.
    “Think back to last night. I know it may be lost somewhere in the centuries of accumulated material in the filing cabinet of your brain,but it
was
just last night. You were floating around in a fish tank of sewage, and I was there looking like I was going to throw up. You were shrieking unintelligibly, and you might remember that I said that we…
Did. Not. Have. Him.
Now, we will do our best to help you, but if you’ve misplaced one of your men, then you have only one person to blame, and it’s not me.” Myfanwy looked up and saw that Ingrid and the bodyguards were staring at her incredulously.
Maybe that was a little too plain,
she thought guiltily. “Plus, as you may know, I am the most junior member of the Court. There are other people you may wish to speak to regarding your endeavor.”
    “What endeavor?” came the suspicious question.
    “The whole, I don’t know, ‘We exist, and we’re sneaking agents into England and America’ thing.”
    “Not only will I not speak to other members of your Court about this, but you will not do so either,” said de Leeuwen flatly.
    “I beg your pardon?” said Myfanwy.
    “You have been contacted because Ernst sent something to you, the general of our greatest enemy. If I did not think you knew where he was, you would be flayed, your sister would be dead, and I would be watching troops vat-grown in Mechelen rape your Prime Minister in Trafalgar Square on a pyramid of Cockney skulls.” Myfanwy felt ice water bleed into her veins.
    “What?” she whispered.
    “That is right,” the Belgian confirmed in a tone of deep satisfaction. “So, I suggest you drop this little pretense that you do not have him because now you understand exactly how serious this is.”
    “You said they would not be touched or investigated,” she said in horror.
    “Do not be naive” came the reply.
    “You motherfucker. Where do you get off threatening my family?” Myfanwy shouted into the phone. “You make one single move toward Bronwyn and I will have your country carpet bombed. I will track you down and seize control of your body, and you will tear your own guts out of your
arse
. You fucking corpse!”
    “You do not talk to me like that!” the Belgian shrieked. Therewas the sound of splashing in the background, and she realized that he was still in his tank.
    “I’ll have one of my large bodyguards shit in that tank of yours, and you’ll rub it into your flesh like it came from the Body Shop,” Myfanwy continued. “All those little modifications of yours? Well, you’ll pick those out with your fingernails, you reject carcass from a butcher-shop window.” Over the speakerphone came the sound of someone having a fit of apoplexy in a swimming pool.
    “Now, Mr. Graaf Gerd de Leeuwen, call me in three days and we shall see what the situation is. If my sister feels even the slightest bit of discomfort before then, you’ll be receiving your partner in the form of a set of matched luggage. Good-bye,” Myfanwy said, then she disconnected the phone with shaking hands. She turned to Ingrid, who had entered the room again. “Hi.”
    “So, in addition to telecommunications, you’re also not much of an expert on diplomacy, hm?” said Ingrid weakly.
    “I need a drink,” said Myfanwy.
    “I think we both do,” said Ingrid, swinging open a portrait that concealed a well-stocked bar. She poured each of them a shot of something amber while Myfanwy shook the coffee off her new mobile phone.
    “That guy’s not stable,” said Myfanwy. “It was bad enough when we thought the Grafters were planning an invasion, but I assumed that at least they were sane.”
    “Yes,” said Ingrid. “Rook Thomas, you have a