She also warned them that she thought the freak storm during Christine's wedding may have been caused by a paranormal. Liberty Island should be checked out. 

Marjorie asked Eleanor, the Hudson Hawsk AI,  to take another crack at PRIMUS computers. She might try it during the press conference when many of the big shots will be away from the base.  She might be able to find a back door. She was looking for more information to take down PRIMUS on what they did to those little kids. Any additional info on the kids, the experiment of the personality machine would be helpful. She also continued to push the PRIMUS PR people for an interview with the Sentinels. If she could get close to them, she might have a better idea who their personalities were copied from. If Armstrong's personality was copied into one of the Sentinels, that particular super hero, might be more receptive to believing what PRIMUS did to him. Maybe any of the Sentinels whose personalities came from Avengers who left the program would be good to talk too. 

Catching the commuter down to D.C. was a bitch given the freak storms that kept cropping up. It seemed like seventy mile winds at take off, and that was no joke in an aircraft that small. Jim slept through the whole thing, but rumor had it that he slept through the shelling of Sarajevo while a certain older female newscaster clung to him. That was just the rumor, though. That older female newscaster had a reputation of not putting men to sleep, after all! 

The weather was clear in Washington, though, Marjorie noted as she descended. She'd almost finished the story about the paranormal encounter in front of the Holocaust museum (Neo-Nazi mutants vs. PRIMUS Iron Guard) by the time the plane landed. 

Marjorie rented the car, got the luggage and drove to the Renaissance, which wasn't too far from the airport. After checking in, it was almost time for the doors to open for camera set up at PRIMUS HQ. 

Not too bad: Marjorie got stuck in two construction sites before finally finding a parking place, but she was still there before Steve Gunarson from CNN showed up (Marjorie had always hated him. No one could have teeth quite so white. She'd always wondered if they were real.) So handsome to be obnoxious, Gunarson was the new favorite at CNN. 

The press room filled up quickly, and was soon approaching 98% relative humidity. No press room was well designed, but PRIMUS's was tiny. There was a podium set up in front of several plush Queen Anne chairs (interesting in and of themselves -- who bought those, Marjorie wondered), but the folding chairs they'd left for the lot of journalists were straight out of church potluck. Finally they principals arrived. 

General Hawkins hadn't changed since Saturday, nor had the Golden Avenger (although he did look tired.) Marjorie spotted some Silver Avengers, including Sherrie Peters, who was the Washington D.C. SA. She recognized Colonel Peter Glenn. He was in his Army uniform, replete with row after row of medals. He had thick, short, graying hair and eyes which could be gray or blue. He smiled at something the General whispered to him, and nodded. That's when she saw them. 

Now, she'd seen pictures of the Sentinels before. She even met Titan, the hulking flying brick who'd "helped" the Hawks against Mechanon. But, all clich's aside, they were larger than life in a group. When the six of them walked into the room, that's when the taking stopped. They were all wearing the same costume, essentially, to what the Avengers wear, except where the Golden Avenger had gold, and the Silver Avengers had silver, the Sentinels had red. It was not, Marjorie realized, an unpleasant combination. They didn't look alike. They don't look anything like any of the Silver Avengers, either. Which didn't really support or reject the information she'd obtained, but she thought it anyway. And certainly, they didn't look like twelve year olds. 

With a minimum of ceremony, Sherrie Peters handed the podium to General Hawkins, whose speech was a fond recognition of those who had helped to make his vision of PRIMUS a reality. He then took questions. 

When it came around to Marjorie's turn, she asked, "Where does the future of PRIMUS lie, in the hands of the Avengers or the Sentinels?" 

Every paranormal in the room turned and looked at her, and then at Hawkins. She couldn't tell if the Golden Avenger ws smirking or not, though Robert Webster coughed. Apparently a topic of conversation recently, then. 

Hawkins frowned slightly, but he didn't delay in answering. "The future of PRIMUS is in both the Avenger corps and in the Sentinels, for they fulfill different roles within the organization. Perhaps the best way of looking at it is to imagine the Avengers as military coordinators, and the Sentinels as, well, Green Berets." He then gestured at the reporter to her right. 

She knew she'd seen the Golden Avenger smirk that time, though she was pretty sure that he was out of almost every camera's range where he was standing. The Sentinels didn't look too pleased, though. 

Peter Glenn's speech was short as well. Marjorie wasn't surprised: in all of the information on the man she had heard, "curt" was the definingword. He merely talked of the honor which was afforded him by this appointment, how he would continue the dream of General Hawkins, etc. She thought she saw Robert Webster, master of the ice cubes, fidget. 

She got frosty stares from the Avengers at her question, "Will the Sentinels replace the Avengers as PRIMUS's primary action team in dealing with paranormal villains given the recent embarrassing defections of several high-ranking Avengers?" Well, she rationalized, it needed to be asked. So what if she was not going to be invited to the Golden Avenger's birthday party. "Oh, dear," she thought she heard Jim mutter, hopefully not loud enough to be picked up. The main mike was up there with the colonel, after all. Colonel Glenn took a breath and begins. 

"If you're referring to the actions of the villain Armstrong and of Darin Falswell, it's really unfathomable what must have pushed them over the edge. Certainly their records were exemplary before. But in the twelve years of the program, the Avengers have been the primary line of defense the public has had against paranormal threats. This isn't going to change. In fact, the combined experience of the Avengers has become so valuable that we've been able to gain more of an insight into villain activities. PRIMUS paranormal villain profiles have led to the capture of thousands of villains. The Sentinel team was designated because the Avenger program was very costly to initiate and maintain, not to replace the Avengers themselves. The Sentinels are, rather, meant to act where the Avengers can't, because they already have taken on so many other projects." 

Colonel Glenn moved onto the next question, and she relaxed into the metal chair to the best of her ability. Steve Gunarson, who'd asked about costume changes as a result of the changeover, was giving her a look of awe. Light glinted off his teeth, and she thought one blonde hair might have even strayed from his coif. 

Just then, her pager began to vibrate. Thank God she didn't have it set to beep. No telling how many dirty looks she would have gotten, then. She didn't recognize the number, but there was a 911 following it. Standing, she managed to squeeze past her colleagues on the way out. 

Following the ropes of cable out the door and into the lobby of the PRIMUS building (ah, government gray, lovely d'cor), she almost reached a quiet spot when she heard a "Hey, wait!" She turned, expecting some PRIMUS person. It was Steve Gunarson! 

He was a little out of breath from running after you, and his tie flipped over. Repressing the urge to straighten it, she impatiently answered, "What?" She thought she wasn't snarling at him, but she can't be sure. He didn't appear to notice, though. 

He rans a hand through the perfect blonde hair. "Um, I just wanted to say that that was a good question you asked." 

Trying to be gracious, she answered, "Oh, um, thanks." Gesturing to the phones, she continued, "I need to answer this page. I'll talk to you in a minute." 

"Oh, right!" he responded. "I'll wait." 

She was aware that it was only a delaying tactic, but she walked over to the pay phone. It was a local number. Dialing, she recognized Ronan's voice when he answered. Why did he have such bad timing, she wondered. But still, the sound of his voice was incredible. He must sing in the shower, she speculated, before he said, "Marjorie? Are you still there?" 

"Yes, I'm here. What is it?" 

"That was a lovely question you asked. But if you really want a chance to find out what PRIMUS is doing, be waiting outside the building in ten minutes. Bring the cameraman. I have to go now, Marjorie. Can you make it?" Ronan asked. 

At some point in every great news story there was a point where the journalist needed to make a snap decision. Stay or go? Sometimes the best thing was to stay. CNN's Peter Arnett stayed in Baghdad and told the story of a lifetime as the first missiles of the Persian Gulf were launched. Sometimes the best thing is to go. Peter Jennings went to Berlin instead of covering the US-Soviet summit and witnessed the Berlin Wall coming down. 

Marjorie would have liked to think that it was some reporter's intuition that led her to accept Ronan's offer, but that wouldn't be honest. She had face it: this press conference wasn't going anywhere fast. If she heard one more question about the new uniforms, she thought she would puke. Even if this didn't pan out, at least she got to see Ronan. 

"I'll be there," she said. "Any special instructions?" 

Once she got off the phone, she hurried back past Steve Gunarson. 

"I'd really like to talk Steve, but that's my friend Susan" good name, pretty common. "She's having her baby and I told her I'd be there. It's her third and she decided to have this one at home with the help of a midwife. I've gotta go. Maybe we can have lunch sometime. Here's my card." 

She got this out as fast as she could, leaving him no opportunity to get a word in edgewise. All the while, dhe was walking back to the press conference room. She handed him one of my business cards with her beeper number on it and waved a jaunty goodbye. 

Once back into that oppressive room, she eased back up to Jim. Thank God the camera guys are in the back of the room. Getting out of here shouldn't be too much of a problem. 

Tugging on his sleeve, she pulled him back toward the wall slightly, making absolutely sure they were out of earshot of the other cameramen and microphones. 

"Hot tip," she said in a low voice. "Pack up the equipment and meet me outside. We're meeting someone in less than 10 minutes." 

With that, She grabbed the the camera bag with its additional battery back-up and eased quietly back out of the conference room. She left Jim to bring the camera -- hey, it was really heavy. 

Once they were outside and away from any prying eyes and ears she told Jim what was up. 

"Look, a friend of mine says he has a lead on a story and we should met him outside the building here. I trust him. Besides it can't hurt. That press conference was getting boring. Can you believe Morry Stafford asked if the Sentinels were worried about being mistaken for that new grunge rock group from Seattle also called the Sentinels? Yeah, like Titan could be mistaken as a rock star. Maybe a rock, but not a rock star." 

Jim was more than a little surprised. Actually, the look he gave Marjorie indicated that he thought she wa quite mad. "Um, okay," he stammered, pulling on the bill of his Braves ball cap. Thankfully, as the two of them started to pack up the last question was answered, and they were able to make their retreat in the relative security of numbers. Everyone else was climbing into the vans which PRIMUS had garnered for the express purpose of ferrying reporters and crews. As soon as they stepped onto the curb, however, a burgundy mini van pulled up and the sliding door opened for them. "Come, come," a deep voice with a German accent commanded. Hesitating momentarily -- she don't see Ronan anywhere -- Marjorie climbed in and Jim followed.