"And with just two days until Cyril's deadline," Smith muttered. "Unless he was just blowing smoke."

"Yeah." Reaching across his desk, Powell snagged his phone. "Keep working the phone angle," he instructed the other. "And run another check to see if anyone's been using Tommy's credit cards. I'm going to give the Gang Task Force's cage another rattle."

He grimaced. "And after that, I think I'll give the S.W.A.T. duty officer a heads-up. Just in case he wasn't blowing smoke."

Roger punched off the phone. "He's not exactly thrilled about getting dragged out at this time of night," he told the others. "But he says he'll be right over."

"What do you mean, this time of night?" Jonah scoffed. "It's not even seven-thirty."

"I get the feeling Velovsky's day ends when the streetlights come on," Roger told him. "The fact he's willing to come out now shows how much Melantha means to him."

"How much the Greens mean to him, you mean," Ron said sourly. "I still don't think it's a good idea for us to be here when he arrives. Velovsky doesn't think very highly of Grays."

"Then it's time he broadened his horizons," Zenas said firmly.

Roger pursed his lips. Privately, he had his own doubts about dropping all this on Velovsky at once.

But Zenas had suggested it, and Laurel and Fierenzo had concurred, and so for better or worse they were going to give it a try. "Well, we're not very far from his place, so he should be here in a few minutes."

"Hopefully without a bunch of Green Warriors in tow," Jonah muttered. "I was thinking I might go up on the roof for a couple of minutes and check things out."

"Halfdan's still looking for you," Stephanie warned him.

"I'll be careful." Jonah looked at Fierenzo, lifted his eyebrows questioningly.

"I don't think it's necessary," the detective said. "But it probably won't hurt, either. If you want, go ahead."

Nodding, Jonah got to his feet and stepped to the door. "Keep an ear peeled, Roger," he added.

Opening the door, he checked the hallway and slipped out.

"This isn't nearly as nice a place as the Marriott," Roger commented.

"Not nearly as expensive, either," Ron countered dryly. "It was our ancestors who mined the mountains for gems, you know, not us personally."

"I have a question," Fierenzo said. "I know Elymas led the Greens here to Manhattan. But who exactly was in charge of the Gray contingent?"

"Torvald and Halfdan's father," Ron said. "He was—"

"Their father?" Roger cut in. "Those two are brothers?"

"Yes," Ron said, frowning. "Didn't you know?"

"How could I?" Roger said, feeling a little sandbagged. "I thought they were rivals for control of the Grays."

"As much as Grays are under anyone's control," Zenas murmured.

"And may our freedom forever reign," Ron countered solemnly. "At any rate, their father Ulric had been a major clan leader back in the Great Valley. He was the one who organized our refugee group."

"We obviously don't have the same strict societal cohesion as the Greens," Stephanie said. "But Ulric was probably the closest thing we had to a leader everyone would listen to. That was certainly the case by the time we arrived here."

"And he did a terrific job of nursing us through the transition from old world to new," Ron said. "He got us through customs, set us up in homes and jobs, and pushed hard to make sure we all learned English as quickly as possible so we could fit into Human society and not simply withdraw into our own little ethnic knot."

"What happened to him?" Fierenzo asked.

"The same thing that happens to all of us," Ron said, his voice almost wistful. "He died a few years after we got here."

"Of course he was already pretty old," Stephanie added. "From what I've heard, people were surprised he held on as long as he did."

"After that we mostly went on with our individual lives," Ron said. "Basically ignoring anyone's authority except when someone stepped over the line and had to be dealt with." He looked over at Zenas and Laurel. "It was only when the Green crisis exploded onto the scene that there was any real need for us to get organized, at which point Torvald and Halfdan each made a bid for authority."

Roger's left hand tingled, and he lifted it to his cheek. "Yes?"

"Velovsky's entering the hotel," Jonah's voice came in his ear. "No sign of any Greens, either with him or hanging around in the shrubbery. I'm coming back in."

"Right." Roger lowered his hand. "Velovsky's on his way."

"Good," Fierenzo said. "So when you say 'the Grays,' you're really talking about a fairly amorphous mass of individuals."

"That's us, all right," Ron agreed.

"Actually, that's one of the reasons we're so terrified of fighting them," Laurel said. "There's so little central control anywhere that you never know what exactly they're going to do."

"And of course, no central control means no individual to focus on whose loss would make the army fall apart," Zenas said.

"Zenas," Laurel said warningly.

Zenas looked at Ron and Stephanie. "Sorry," he said, a little shamefacedly. "I didn't mean it to sound that way."

"That's all right," Stephanie assured him. "We know you realize we're not the enemy, just as we know you aren't."

"At least, not yet," Zenas countered grimly. "But what are you going to do if war does break out?

Are you going to be able to sit out the fighting when your friends and cousins are being killed?"

"And what about us?" Laurel added. "Zenas and I aren't Warriors, but we can certainly be ordered into support service. What are you going to do then?"

There as a knock on the door. "Let's focus on trying to make those decisions moot, shall we?"

Fierenzo said, getting to his feet. Crossing to the door, he pulled it open. "Come in, Mr. Velovsky."

The lines in Velovsky's face deepened at the sight of the stranger in front of him. "Do I know you?" he asked.

"He's a friend of mine," Roger spoke up, taking a step toward him. "Please come in."

Still frowning, Velovsky eased past Fierenzo and stepped into the room. "I assumed this was going to be a private—"

He broke off, his body twitching violently as he spotted Ron and Stephanie. "What the—?"

"It's all right," Roger hastened to assure him. "They're friends, too."

"Friends of whom?" Velovsky countered harshly, taking a quick step backward. Too late; Fierenzo had already closed the door and was standing in front of it.

"Friends of ours," Laurel spoke up.

Velovsky's body twitched again as he seemed to suddenly notice the two Greens. He looked at the Grays, then back at the Greens, then over at Roger. "What in the name of hell is going on here?"

"Have a seat, Mr. Velovsky," Fierenzo invited, moving his own chair into the circle and assisting Velovsky into it. "We have a story I think you should hear."

Velovsky sat in stony silence as they took turns recapping the events of the past few days, his arms crossed, his eyes mostly alternating between Ron, Stephanie, and Jordan. Jonah quietly rejoined them midway through, and got his own slot in Velovsky's glaring rotation.

The recitation ended, and for a long minute no one spoke. Finally, Velovsky stirred. "You actually expect me to believe this?"

"Why would we lie?" Roger asked.

"Why would Grays lie?" Velovsky asked pointedly. "Why would enemies of the Greens lie?"

"We're here, too," Laurel reminded him. "Do you think we would betray our own people?"

Velovsky's eyes darted to her, turned reluctantly away. "I don't know," he muttered. "Maybe I don't know as much about Greens as I thought."

"Look, all of us in this room want the same thing," Roger said. "We all want to find Melantha."

"Only for very different reasons," Velovsky countered. "We want her alive."

"So do we," Stephanie said.