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here.
The man has a tense way of speaking and dark circles under his watery
blue eyes, one of which is slightly lazy and floats off somewhere to the left
of her. He starts walking her and Couch toward a long mahogany dining
table covered with radio equipment, clipboards, Styrofoam coffee cups,
and two notebook computers with Ivy on their screens, talking directly
into the webcam. Sitting at the computers are two men in dark blue jack-
ets, the arms of which bear the yellow block letters FBI, and below those,
the smaller letters VTU, printed in shimmering bondi blue.
 Your sister has four homemade bombs, Dellaqua goes on.  They re
small and crude, but more than enough for her to blow herself up.
Ursula looks around the loft, a knot of helplessness rising in her throat.
She remembers his sinuous smile, the seduction in his voice: The point is,
you don t know what I m capable of.
 Four? she asks, her voice breaking.  Chas put four bombs in my sis-
ter s room?
Dellaqua blinks, looking from her to Couch and back.
 Not Chas, Couch tells her.  Sonja.
Couch motions with his head toward the kitchen area, where still more
men lean against counters and appliances, looking grimly down at Sonja
Niellsen, who sits in a wooden chair with her hands cuffed behind her.
She wears an army jacket with three black and white feathers pinned to
each shoulder, a long black dress, and combat boots. Her head is angled
downward, her face obscured by a curtain of straight black hair.
 James, she whispers,  how can they think Sonja did this? It was obvi-
ously Chas. Look at the poor girl. They ve got her handcuffed.
 Any information you have on Chas Lacouture s involvement in all of
this will be appreciated, Dellaqua says.  But we re certain Miss Niellsen
was the one who bought the materials and assembled the bombs. We ve
got eyewitnesses, receipts, and her own confession.
 That s crazy. How could Sonja make explosives?
Dellaqua bridles at the word  crazy, retracting his chin into his neck
and staring at Ursula coldly.  Those bombs have two ingredients. One is
248 Al ex Shakar
sugar, and the other is something you can pick up at Home Depot. The
recipe is available on several thousand websites.
 But why? Ursula says.  Why would she do it? She peers into the
kitchen area, trying to get a glimpse of Sonja s face.
 Because Ivy asked her to, Dellaqua snaps.  And because she wanted
their names to be linked for all time. That s what Miss Niellsen says any-
way. It was a suicide pact. She was planning to be there when Ivy set them
off, but we picked her up when she left the building to buy breakfast.
Couch sighs.  I told you Sonja was ga-ga for Ivy. He chuckles ner-
vously.
 It s possible Ivy brainwashed her, Dellaqua goes on.  She shows
some of the classic symptoms, but our experts need some time with her to
be sure.
 You think Ivy brainwashed her? Ursula erupts.
Sonja looks up and sees Ursula, causing the other heads in the kitchen
to turn toward her as well. Her little mouth is set in a firm line. Her eyes
are steady and clear and unyielding. She actually looks less brainwashed to
Ursula than she ever has before. The  kidnapped look is entirely gone;
and in its place Ursula finds what can be described only as the look of a
full-fledged savage girl.
Sonja looks back down at the floor. Agent Dellaqua starts talking again,
scratching his head and looking around anxiously.
 Ivy s objectives, on the other hand, aren t so innocent. Definitely politi-
cal.
Ursula stares at Dellaqua, her focus oscillating between the serene lazi-
ness of his right eye and the utter turmoil of the rest of his face.
 How do you mean, political?
 Destruction of currency is a serious crime. Your sister is attempting to
undermine the economy.
 Oh, come on.
Dellaqua fixes his good eye on her.  Money is the lifeblood of our soci-
ety, he says.  Even purely symbolic attacks on it can lead to copycat crimes,
crises of confidence, chain reactions we can t even begin to anticipate. Is
Ivy involved with any groups or organizations, to your knowledge?
 You mean like, is she a Communist?
 Who are these people called the Trendspotters, anyway?
 We are, she shouts.  Me, James, Chas. We re not political. We re
businesspeople. Agent Dellaqua, please, she s just a schizophrenic. She s
not a terrorist.
The Savage Gi r l 249
 I m not denying your sister s mental condition. But you have to realize
that these days terrorism is everywhere. It s in the air. People can be terror-
ists without even knowing it.
 Can you please get her out of there and talk politics later?
 I m trying, he says, his face pained and exasperated.  I spent the whole [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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