Moto shot back, growing visibly upset before catching himself and regaining his composure. “There is still a chance I'll be able to resume control when I get back.”
“I don't see how,” Felicity protested, nervously wringing her hands. “Franco's gonna know the score when you turn up with Xander for sure, that is if John hasn't already told Franco his story. He's probably got half the military out looking for both of you right now, scouring the woods near the entrance for any sign of us.”
“Maybe,” Moto said. “But I doubt it. Remember he can't risk tipping his hand…not yet anyway. Not until he has enough supporters to keep the rest of the enlisted men in line. Sure, now he realizes I know about his part in the plans, he knows that I'm on to him and am part of the conspiracy to stop him, but he won't be able to do anything about it for the time being.”
“How long will it take him to have you killed in an accident just like he did with General Conrad?” Felicity demanded.
“I'll have my team assembled long before then,” Moto assured her. “Franco and his Blackshirts will all be under arrest awaiting trial for treason. There is already a plan in place to take them by force if necessary.”
“So you're really just gonna hand yourself over to him?” Sonya said in disbelief. “I don't know which part of your plan is crazier; the fact that you want to put yourself in mortal danger for no reason at all, or the fact that you expect me to just sit here and wait for word you've been killed at the hands of a petty tyrant.”
“I'm still the ranking officer on base,” Moto said confidently. “I have a responsibility to my men and to my country. I don't take that lightly. We've talked about this before. You're going to have to learn to trust me.”
“It's not you I don't trust,” Sonya hissed, her eyes flashing in anger as she balled up her fists.
He reached out and put his hand on her shoulders, but she furiously shook it off. She stormed out of Apache's shelter without another word. Moto chased after her, leaving us standing there in shock. Apache clapped his hands together.
“Time for dinner I guess,” he said warmly, glossing over the obvious tension still in the room. “Who's hungry?”
“Xander,” Felicity whispered, using her small voice as she took my hand. “Please tell me you're not going on this suicide mission with Moto, that you'll help us talk him out of it? Please, baby? For me.”
I looked at her, then around to see Sam and Apache trying not to stare at us.
“Can we talk about it after dinner when we've had some time alone?” I asked, feeling embarrassed and darting looks around the room again.
“Sure,” she said at once, letting go of my hand. The tension began to seep slightly from the room. “I trust you, baby.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling better about it right away. “Now that you mention it, I am pretty hungry. What's on the menu?”
“I thought you'd never ask,” Apache said, coming back across the room and stepping between Felicity and me. Taking us in his arms, he guided us back outside.
Apache began at once to tell us about the village and how things operated. He explained that everyone in Xanadu was trained in a particular skill, but that they all took turns doing unpleasant jobs, like making sure the sewage pipe was properly removing waste, or helping prep and cook. He explained that he was the last of a council of Elders, but that he had turned decisions about their future over to a group vote. He showed us people patching thatched roofs, while others were making pottery and necklaces, and some taking out bundles of trash to the compost piles out by the crops. There was so much happening in the bustling village that it was hard to keep up. Sam followed along like an eager puppy adding comments that, for the most part, fell on deaf ears – a fact that his excitement did not allow him to notice, as far as I could see.
“This is