The Secretary walks in behind them. He smiles. “So much more convenient for you to come to me instead of me having to hunt you down. I suspected my daughter hadn’t cut off communications with you. Now, if you’ll come out quietly from behind that desk and take a seat.” He motions to the guards who take another step toward us.
Raine grabs my arm, trying to stop me. “It’s okay,” I say. I look at her, trying to convey how deadly our situation is. This is no longer just her father who might discipline her for acting out. He’s a cunning and desperate man who will not lose eighty billion duros at any cost. “Just stay here,” I tell her. “Trust me, please.”
I walk to the other side of the desk. The guard raises his weapon, showing he’s ready to use it. I take a seat as I’m told. The Secretary walks over to his rightful place behind his desk, just inches from Raine. He touches her chin, and she flinches away. “He’s filled you with lies already, hasn’t he? Who to believe?” He pushes Raine down into his chair.
He explains he doesn’t have time to waste. He knows I’m not who I say I am, that every record and document submitted to the Collective turned out to be fake. “But who are you? No question that you’re part of some resurging Resistance faction trying to acquire the same thing I am. But as you well know, time is running out. I don’t have days on end to interrogate you until you break. Whatever is in your head, I need it now.”
He looks back at LeGru and raises his brows.
I feel a stab in my neck, and a flash of heat pulses out to my fingertips. Almost instantly I lose focus. The room spins and my vision doubles, triples, my limbs going numb, garbled voices surrounding me. I can’t even be sure I’m still sitting in the chair, but then something strange happens. As quickly as the disorienting wave hits me, it begins to subside. I know what’s happening. I feel it happening. Whatever they injected me with, my BioPerfect is attacking it, disabling it, like a virus that’s invaded my system. Just as BioPerfect repairs cuts and gashes on the outside, it works for survival on the inside too. Survival is its prime objective. The dizzy wave dissolves, my focus returning with heightened clarity, and I listen to the Secretary drone on with his smug explanation.
“And as it turns out, this also gives us an auspicious opportunity to try some new technology out on you. Unfortunately for you, the scan is quite painful, but well worth the—”
LeGru abruptly walks over to the Secretary, interrupting him and showing him a device in his hand. “Something’s wrong,” he says. “It’s not working. The nanobots are all … disappearing.”
LeGru slowly looks from the device in his hand to me, his lip pulling up in a disgusted sneer.
“Am I making your skin crawl, LeGru?” I ask, knowing he’s figured it out. “The same way you made my skin crawl from the moment I met you?”
The guard standing behind me knocks the back of my head with the butt of his gun.
LeGru shakes his head, his sneer widening as he turns to the Secretary. “His body’s not even—”
I recognize my chance and won’t wait for a second one. I jump to the side, grabbing the smaller unarmed guard, swinging his body to deflect the armed guard who is already coming at me. The smaller guard flies across the room, smashing into the wall, and falls unconscious to the floor.
The armed guard regains his footing, but before he can come at me again I lunge, both of us wrestling for control of his weapon, flailing through the room, overturning tables and smashing into the Secretary’s precious artifacts. When we tumble into a chair, the guard breaks free, aims the weapon at me, and fires, but not before my leg swings up, knocking him back, and his aim is thrown upward, blowing a hole through the ceiling.
Plaster rains down around us. I lunge again, trying to grab the weapon from him, but his grip on it remains secure, which helps me when I swing him around and send him flying through the air—straight toward the window. He crashes through it, disappearing along with his gun, the shatter of glass blending with his scream as he falls nine stories. I catch my breath, wiping blood from my mouth where the gun hit my lip, and I spin, ready to take on LeGru and the Secretary next, but the Secretary already has me beat.
He holds Raine, his arm crooked tightly around her neck, so tight that a sudden jerk could snap it.
I put my hands up, showing him I’m backing off. “Don’t—”
“Shut up! Sit down in the chair. Now.”
I look at Raine. He’s holding her so tightly she can’t speak, but I see her eyes, angry, telling me in a million ways not to do as he says. But I have to. I can read his face even more clearly than hers. I slowly move to the chair and sit and he instructs LeGru to get the body cuff from the guard who lies unconscious on the floor. LeGru grabs it from the guard’s belt and places it over me and the cuff contracts, snugly pinning me to the chair. Once I’m secure, the Secretary loosens his hold on Raine and pushes her back in his chair. “So, my daughter got mixed up with some sort of lab beast, or at best, a cyborg.”
“Fully human,” I say. “More so than you.”
“Who do you work for? You couldn’t have pulled this off on your own.”
Raine jumps forward. “Don’t tell him anything, Locke!”
The Secretary spins, hitting Raine’s face with the back of his hand, sending her sprawling back into the chair. I strain against the cuff but it holds me tight. Blood dribbles from the corner of her mouth. She wipes it away. “Don’t tell him,” she says, glaring at him, daring him to hit her again.
He turns back to me. “Sadly, it looks like you’ve infected her with your lies, but worse for you and her, you may have told her what it is I need to know. Our experimental scan may have failed on you, but it won’t fail on Raine. Are you going to force me to use it on her?”
“I haven’t told her anything.”
He turns to LeGru and tells him to inject her. LeGru prepares another injection and walks toward Raine.
“Wait!” I say. “I have what you want.”
The Secretary turns, raising his eyebrows. “And just what is that?” he asks. “Don’t stall. I won’t give you a second chance.”
I have no doubt that this once, he’s a man of his word. I look at my pack lying on the floor, the knife—his golden fleece—only inches from his feet. But it’s not nearly as valuable to me as Raine is. I look at her sitting in the chair just behind him. Once I give him what he wants, I’m dead, but he’d have no more reason to harm her.
“I have the missing numbers.”
I watch his face transform, like now he’s the one who has been injected.
“They’re at your feet,” I tell him.
“Don’t play with me, boy. I know games and lies when I see them. I warned you—”
“In my pack. On the floor. There’s an old knife that had belonged to Karden. The only thing of his that you didn’t burn in the fire. The missing numbers are engraved on the smallest blade.”
He glances down at the pack, sixteen years of greed and hunger spreading across his face. “For your sake, I hope you’re telling the truth.” He reaches down and grabs it, but like lightning, Raine is moving, snatching, spinning, and before he even straightens back up, the tip of a sword is at his throat. He looks with horror at the empty display behind his desk, his prized silver sword now firmly in Raine’s hand.
“Don’t move,” she says. “You know I could sever your jugular and be out of this room before your body even hits the floor.”
He swallows carefully. “But, Raine, I’m your father.”
She presses the tip of the sword harder against the tender skin at the base of his throat. I watch her struggle, but only briefly, the mere flutter of an eyelash, as the hatred, betrayal, and trained devotion are overtaken by the calculated control she learned from him. “And that’s why I haven’t already killed you.” She motions with her head to me. “Release him,” she says to LeGru.
LeGru looks at the Secretary for confirmation. He carefully nods, obviously seeing Raine teeters on the edge of slashing his th
roat anyway. “Hurry,” he whispers.
LeGru loosens the cuff and pulls it off me. I get out of the chair, pushing him down where I was sitting, and I back another chair up to his. “Your turn,” I tell the Secretary. Raine carefully walks him over, the sword never leaving his throat. He sits and I place the cuff over both of them, securing them back to back.
“It won’t do you any good,” he says. “You’ve dispatched two Security Officers. It will be only seconds before more are swarming all over this building.”
I grab my pack from the floor. “Then we’d better go.” We head for the door.
“Raine!” the Secretary screams, raised veins furious at his temples. “Don’t you dare leave me like this! You’ll be sorry if you walk out that door! You’ll become a hunted criminal just like him! I’m giving you one last chance—”
Raine spins, thirsty rage in her eyes, her chest heaving, the sword cutting the air and then balancing in her hands like she’s testing it, eager to plunge it right through his heart. “You’re giving me a last chance?” She steps closer until the sword is dead center between his eyes.
“Raine,” I whisper.
She stares at him, her gaze frigid and her hand brutally steady. “The only thing I’ll be sorry for is if I don’t walk out that door right now.” She lifts the sword. “And you, Secretary Branson, will never make me sorry for another thing as long as I live.”
We hear sirens, then doors slamming, and we run.
Betrayal
“The roof,” Raine says. “They’ll be coming up the elevator and stairs.”
We race to the roof and look over. Dozens of Security vans have converged on the two streets below. We tie down the rope ladder and throw it over the narrow alley walkway on the other side. Raine goes over first, the sword still in her hand. “Leave it behind,” I say, afraid she’ll lose her grip.
“Not a chance,” she answers, and begins her descent. I tell her I’ll follow once she reaches the ground, worried that Hap’s handiwork won’t hold us both at the same time. She balks, saying there isn’t time and she won’t continue unless I come along right now. I do, praying with each rung that the carefully woven twine will hold, and relieved when the last few rungs are finally in sight. We jump the last few feet to the ground just as Security Officers round the corner and spot us. They yell for us to stop and aim their weapons, the red target lights already centered on our chests. We freeze, both of us lifting our hands into the air, but then someone else rounds the corner behind them.
Hap.
He silently reaches out, grabbing both by the necks, lifting them off the ground. We hear them scream but we don’t wait to see what else happens. Hap has given us our chance to run and we do, because we know more officers will be right behind them in pursuit. We turn down alleys, duck between buildings, and take cover in stairwells.
I hear Raine’s ragged breaths but she never lags, pulling me into shadows and crevices I didn’t know existed, more familiar with these alleyways than I am. We pull flat against a wall as a Security van races past hunting for us, and we stop breathing when forces on foot run down nearby passageways, guns in hand.
When it’s safe, we escape from one dark corner to another, trying to gain some distance between us and them. After a full minute passes with no sight of them, we make a break for the Commons across the street, running low through cars that slam on brakes to avoid us, and we don’t stop running until we reach the public gardens and the hidden entrance to Arlington station. We go halfway down the steps and finally stop, taking a moment to catch our breath.
“I’ve got to go in to get him now,” I say. “It won’t be long before the Secretary’s free and he figures out where we’re headed.” I look down the steps trying to see into the cavern. “Someone was supposed to meet me here. He must still be on his way. Wait here. It’s not safe for you to go farther.”
Raine grabs a fistful of my sleeve, stopping me. “Hold on just a minute,” she says sarcastically. “You’re not going anywhere without me.”
“Raine, you don’t understand. It’s dark down there and—”
“And I’m pretty damn good with this sword. I seem to recall you telling me there’s safety in numbers and it doesn’t hurt to have someone who cares about you covering your back. Your pearls of wisdom don’t work both ways?”
“But—” I look at her face. She’s an easy read right now, the obstinate tilt of her chin, her eyes wide, resolute, and unblinking, and I know it’s useless. There’s no arguing with her. I’ve more than met my match. I bend down and kiss her. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
We make our way down the rest of the steps and as we go I explain to Raine where the four light panels are but that I don’t know if those four are enough to get us all the way to where Karden is. The files started closing before I pinpointed them all. “Stick close,” I say.
“Right on your back,” she answers.
I find the first light panel, which is deftly camouflaged in the streaked concrete near the entrance, and I press it. The distant red light and the hum radiate the prescribed distance, but then I hear another noise behind me. Raine and I both spin. Carver steps out of the shadows.
I straighten from my crouched position where I was ready to spring. “You shouldn’t sneak up like that. I almost—” I look around. “Where’s Xavier?”
“On his way. You said you had the knife.” He puts his hand out, waiting for it.
“We’re going in for Karden now. There isn’t a lot of time.”
“You’re taking her?”
Raine doesn’t know Carver from Adam and bristles at his tone. “I’m his daughter. Why not?”
Carver shakes his head. “Do whatever you want,” he says, like he’s suddenly stopped caring about details, as though he’s forgotten how hard we’ve all worked toward the goal of saving Karden. He stretches his hand out farther. “But give me the knife,” he says again, this time with urgency. His coolness is gone. The hunger, the need, the sharp pinpoints of his eyes—it all has new meaning.
That’s when all my nagging thoughts tumble into order. The note window that Carver gave me on the first night we met; the aged piece of paper in the Secretary’s desk; the address of the house that burned down that was oddly familiar even though I had never been there before; the numbers I recognized though they were new to me. Almost. All handwritten. Notes written years apart. But all with the exact same handwriting. Lesson two: You may never know precisely who the enemy is.
I step closer to him. “You’re going to burn in hell, Carver.”
He looks at me like I’m crazy, but just as quickly I see him grow tired of the game. Feigning denial is too much work and apparently not necessary anymore now that he thinks he has what he wants. He pulls a gun from his pocket and aims it at me. “Hand it over.”
“It was you all along. You’re the one who turned him in.”
“It was the heist of the century. It was going to change the face of the Resistance. Karden wasn’t fit to lead it. I had to get him out of the way.”
“And get complete control of the money.”
“He knew nothing about compromise. He was little more than a focused brute.”
“But a brilliant one. The only one who could pull off something like this.”
He shrugs. “He was good at some strategies. That was it.”
I step in front of Raine. “While you weren’t good at any. You thought he had already sent you the whole account number when you delivered his address to the Secretary.”
“I admit, it was a premature move.”
I laugh. “Premature? That’s a slight understatement.”
Watching the frustration rise in his face, I continue to mock him, comparing his stupid actions to Karden’s brilliant ones. He loses patience, waving the gun. “Give me the knife!” he yells. His voice echoes through the station. I talk right over his demands, belittling his intelligence, enraging him further.
“Give me the knife, you filthy lab mutt!
You worthless glorified Bot! Give it to me!”
As he screams I lean close to Raine and whisper, “Go to the red light in the tunnel behind us. Don’t stop until you reach the second panel. Press it. I’ll catch up. Go.”
Raine moves away and Carver hardly notices. He’s only focused on me and my pack, which contains the knife. He stops screaming and holds the gun straight out, like he’s ready to fire.
“If you shoot me, you’ll never get Karden back.”
“A justified casualty for a bigger cause. Money is what this whole world’s about, and I’m tired of not having it.”
I try to stall for time, knowing I need only a few more seconds. “Money makes things happen,” I answer. “No denying it. But it’s not the biggest thing. Not by a long shot. It’s people that make the difference.”
“Not in my world,” he says. “Last warning. Toss me the knife.”
Lesson one: Never give the enemy a warning.
I pull the knife from my pack, smile, and act like I’m going to toss it to him, then stop. “Not a chance, asshole.” I begin stepping back into the tunnel, the dim red light closing in around me. “Come and get it.”
Even if he gets a lucky shot in and kills me on the first try, he’s still going to have to venture to where I am in the tunnel to retrieve it—a tunnel that will plunge back into darkness again in just another second or two. I know he’s too much of a coward to do that. He shoots, grazing my arm, the hot sting of the bullet slicing my skin. The timed light turns off, cloaking me in blackness. “Be gone when I come back,” I tell him. “Run as far and as fast as you can.”
I turn and run deeper into the tunnel, shots ringing out around me, Carver screaming for me to come back, promising to split the money with me.
* * *
Without the protection of the hum from the first panel, I’m fair game for the half-humans. I run as fast as I can through the darkness, and thankfully I make it to the next panel and Raine. She’s already pressed the second light and I know it will turn off in seconds too so I grab her hand and we head for the third panel. We hear distant screeches, like the packs of half-humans are alert to our presence. I hope they’re retreating to deeper tunnels away from the sound of the high-pitched hum. We reach the third panel and press it, moving on to the fourth, now so deep in this labyrinth of tunnels it’s a wonder that anyone or anything has ever found its way out again. With the dim red glow, I can see scattered sticks along the abandoned tracks and I finally realize they aren’t sticks but bones. We’re moving so fast, I hope Raine doesn’t notice them.