Rook

Thomas, mine is the only phone that has Chevalier Eckhart’s number, and that’s the one you’re talking into,” said Ingrid.
    “
Fine.
Carruthers, call your new boy Alan,” said Myfanwy testily before tossing the phone over to Ingrid. “Get Eckhart now.” A phone rang, and Alan handed it to her. “Carruthers, tell me the address. Wait a second, is it ringing?” she asked Ingrid. Her assistant nodded. “Give it to me. Carruthers, give the address to Ingrid.” She passed one mobile over and held the other to her ear.
    “Eckhart residence” came a female voice.
    Shit, what is his wife called?
wondered Myfanwy. She remembered Thomas writing about that Christmas party, but couldn’t remember the name.
    “Oh, hi, Mrs. Eckhart. It’s Myfanwy Thomas.”
    “Myfanwy! Darling, it’s lovely to hear from you. Joshua’s asleep after all those dreadful medical tests. Did you have to do them too?”
    “Early this morning,” said Myfanwy, flustered. “Um, there’s an emergency—can you wake Joshua up, please?”
    “Of course, I’ll get him right away!” There was a pause, and Myfanwy looked over at Ingrid, who had finished taking the address from Carruthers.
    “Is he still on the line?”
    “Yes, Rook Thomas.”
    “Great, keep him there. Alan,” she said, looking around at the Pawn, “get hold of the watch office in the Rookery. I want the status of the Barghests that aren’t in Reading. Now!”
    “Rook Thomas, Mrs. Woodhouse has my phone,” said the Li’l Pawn.
    “Use mine,” said Emily hastily, shoving it into his hands. Myfanwy nodded her approval. There was sound coming from the other phone, and she put it back to her ear.
    “Thomas, what’s the situation?” came Eckhart’s voice. She had to give it to the man: he’d only just woken up, but he sounded ready to go into action.
    “Eckhart, it’s the Grafters,” she said, ignoring the sudden squeak from Emily. “One of the leaders is in England, and he faxed me a threat. We’ve traced it, and the source is in London. I’m stuck in Reading, so you’ll need to oversee the strike team.”
    “Very well,” he said. “Have you activated them?”
    “Just a second,” she said. “Ingrid, let me talk to Carruthers.” The assistant passed over the phone. “Carruthers, there’s no reason we can’t strike at the source of the fax now, right? This isn’t going to turn out to be the basement of a boarding school or the Belgian embassy, is it?”
    “No, it’s a private residence, Rook Thomas” came the reply. Myfanwy looked at Li’l Pawn Alan, who had called the Rookery. The Pawn nodded and held out the phone.
    “This is Rook Thomas. What’s the ready status of the London Barghests?” she asked.
    “Team two is still mopping up in Reading; team one is on standby here at the Rookery” came the answer.
    “Activate team one. They’ll be working under Chevalier Eckhart. We’ll need to be discreet—we’re staging an attack in a residential area. Carruthers in the comms department will contact you with the address in a moment.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    She hung up.
    “Eckhart, the strike team is ready. I figure that even if any members of the Barghests are traitors, they won’t be able to take you. Call me if you need anything further.”
    “Nicely done, Myfanwy” came the reply. “I’m impressed.”
    “Thank you, Joshua. One more thing: not a word to any other member of the Court. Only you and I have been cleared of Grafterimplants. I have reason to believe that at least one more member is a traitor and we can’t afford to have the Grafters tipped off about this strike.”
    “Agreed. But won’t any mention of the Grafters have been communicated automatically to the Bishops and the Lord and Lady?”
    “Only you and the people with me now know that the strike is against the Grafters.”
    “Then I’ll keep you abreast of any developments,” said Eckhart. “Good-bye.”
    “Good luck.” Myfanwy closed the phone and sat back with a sigh.
I’m a general,
she thought to herself.
I have to send others into battle.
Then she thought of something else.
    “Ingrid, we canceled the summons for Harp Callahan, right?”
    “Yes, Rook Thomas, right after you melted the cube,” said Ingrid. “He was able to return to his cricket match.”
    “Oh, well, that
is
good.”
I suppose. Now, just one more thing.
“Emily,” she said to the bodyguard. “Of course I don’t need to tell you that everything you hear is to be kept