by A. M. Pierre
With ear-piercing shrieks of rending metal and the deafening cracks of full-size timber snapping in two, the entire roof lifted off of their wing of the hospital and soared into the sky. Kaia found herself looking at it with somewhat detached interest. Oh, dear. He’s broken the hospital. I do hope he sets that down in the woods instead of on a highway or something.
She tried to stand up as the storm subsided, but her knees were wobbling, ready to give way. Maybe it’s the shock . . . Then gray spots appeared before her eyes, and she knew. The oxygen. Connor had blown it all away. She took a few shaky steps toward him as her vision dimmed. “Connor,” she managed to gasp, “help me.” She started to fall, and the last thing she saw was the stunned look on his face as he reached out to catch her.
“Kaia! Kaia, please. Please don’t be . . . Not you, too.”
Kaia slowly focused on Connor’s face. Fresh tears streamed down his cheeks. His red-rimmed eyes crinkled slightly. “Thank goodness. For a second I thought . . . that you were . . .” He blinked a couple of times and took one long, shuddering breath. “We have to get out of here. I think—I think I really screwed up. The cops haven’t shown up yet, but we need to be gone before they get here. Can you walk?”
She nodded, but yelped involuntarily as she took her first step. She looked down and saw blood on the floor. Connor quickly pulled over a chair, practically pushed her into it, then yanked off her boot and sock so he could look at her foot. “. . .You’ve got a really bad cut in your arch. It may have been a piece of shrapnel flying around or even a, um, a scalpel. I’m sure there’s other people here, too, who I . . . who I . . .” His hand lightly rubbed the top of her foot. “I’m so sorry, Kaia. I . . . I didn’t mean . . . Dice is . . . he’s . . .” He looked up at her, and the pain she saw in his eyes made her heart ache. “Kaia, what do I do?”
Don’t ask me that. I never know the right thing to do. I never know the right thing to say. And I’ve never wished for those skills more than I’m wishing for them right now. “Okay. First, you help me get out of here. Don’t worry about anything else for now.” She tried to smile and hoped it didn’t look too grotesque. “I want to go home. Can you help me get there?”
His eyes were getting that vacant, distant look again, but he nodded. “Yeah. Home.” He picked her up in his arms with one swift motion. “Hang on,” he said, and started making his way through the rubble his typhoon had left behind.
“That’s . . . that’s all the information we have for now.” Kaia was proud her voice wasn’t cracking any more than it was.
On the other end of the video connection, Ezio’s face looked like it had been carved from stone. “I understand. Thank you for the update. We will see you both here soon.”
Kaia nodded and pushed the button to end the call. She snuck a glance at Connor. Ever since they’d returned to the safe house, he’d been sitting in one of the living room chairs, staring blankly at the far wall, not moving a muscle. He seemed to have completely shut down. Was it shock and grief or some kind of mental breakdown?
I can’t deal with that now—I have to figure out how to get us out of here first. If they wanted to fly out, they would need different identities (since their old ones would be connected to the decapitation of a local hospital), but how would they even make it to an airport? Connor had “borrowed” a car to get them most of the way here, but he had already ditched it and sent a message telling the cops where to find it (assuming someone in their station could read English).
Kaia wanted to smack her head as the solution occurred to her. Of course. Why should she wrack her brains trying to figure it all out when she could call Ms. Smith? A few button presses later, and Ms. Smith’s face filled her computer screen. “You rang?”
“YOU!” Connor appeared at Kaia’s side as if by magic. “You set us up! Dice is dead because of YOU!”
“You honestly believe that, Mr. Rhys? What possible reason could I have?”
Connor flinched. “I don’t know—yet. But mark my words, I will find out.”
“I understand you’re upset, Mr. Rhys, but you are getting hysterical. You need to calm down. Think about it—all the people after those rebels. All the enemies we’ve made through the years. All the possible culprits behind Mr. Yamamoto’s death, and yet you immediately assume it’s me—the person who spent countless hours training you, countless dollars caring for you, and countless sleepless nights worrying about you—who is responsible for killing him. Yes, it all makes perfect sense.” Ms. Smith waved Connor away with a flick of her hand. “Go back over to your corner and have a seat, Mr. Rhys. Arrangements need to be made quickly if we’re going to get you both out of the country alive, and you seem to be in no condition to make them.”
Connor stood there for a minute weighing his options, then slowly turned to walk away—although Kaia did notice he kept his eyes on the computer screen the entire time.
“Now, Ms. Davis, our operatives in the area told me what happened, and I already have your exit strategy planned and your flight booked. Your new UNID cards are also ready—you are now tourists returning home after visiting a mutual friend.”
Connor had been muttering under his breath while Ms. Smith had been talking, but now he spoke up where they both could hear him. “I’m not going back. Not before we figure out exactly what happened. We won’t be able to get back in later. Dice’s UNID card said he was the son of some important official. If something strange is going on—no matter whose fault it is—you know the locals are going to cover it up quick so they don’t have a scandal on their hands. Besides that, how are we going to get Dice’s,” he choked slightly, “body back home to give him a decent burial? If we go running for the hills, we won’t even be able to do that, let alone find out what really happened.”
Ms. Smith’s eyes tightened almost imperceptibly. “Ms. Davis, I’d like to speak with you privately. There should be a headset for this computer somewhere. Please find it. I’m sorry, Mr. Rhys, but you’re a bit too emotional to be involved in the plans for your departure.”
“I don’t care what you plan, you cold-hearted witch, I’m not leaving without Dice and that’s final.” Connor turned and marched from the room.
Kaia found the headset by the side of the computer and hesitantly plugged it in. Ms. Smith’s voice immediately sounded in her ear. “I’m sorry about that, my dear—I certainly don’t want to make him angry at you, too—but this is a situation where cooler heads are needed, and you seem to be holding it together quite nicely.”
“Th-Thank you.”
“I understand why he’s so upset. It’s never easy to lose someone we care about. Unfortunately, Mr. Rhys’ judgment is severely impaired right now. Don’t worry, neither of you will have the unpleasant task of relaying this sad news to your friends back at Mark’s Place. I will handle all of that.”
“There’s no need, ma’am. I’ve already taken care of it.”
Ms. Smith’s expression froze. “What do you mean?”
“I already spoke with Ezio and told him everything that happened.”
“That isn’t protocol, my dear. You were supposed to call me first.”
Kaia heard the rebuke in her voice, but she didn’t care. She looked the older woman straight in the eyes. “I wasn’t familiar with your protocols since this was Dice’s job. Sorry.”
There was a hesitation, a moment of possible decision, and then Ms. Smith continued as if nothing had happened. “I have reason to believe the explosion which injured Mr. Yamamoto was aimed at the rebels in that house, not you three, but I can’t be completely certain—”
“Refugees,” Kaia said softly.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Dice said they were refugees, not rebels.”
Ms. Smith smiled slightly. “Are you sure you didn’t mishear him? In any event, we do not have the luxury of time. If you and Mr. Rhys are going to leave this country sa
fely, it will have to be now.”
“Let me talk to Connor, ma’am. I think I can reason with him.”
Ms. Smith’s look was pure sympathy. “Ms. Davis, we are racing the clock. There could very well be people in the vicinity who want you dead. Also, consider this: some of the surveillance equipment at the hospital may be intact, connecting the two of you to the disaster. At the very least, the survivors will be giving descriptions to the police, and, the last time I checked, there aren’t many people with you or Mr. Rhys’ skin color in this part of Asia. I only want the two of you home safe. As far as talking to him goes . . .” Her voice became softer, more maternal. “Connor’s being irrational. I know what he did at the hospital. How he injured you.”
“But that was—”
“I know it was an accident, Ms. Davis. I certainly wouldn’t accuse Mr. Rhys of doing such a thing deliberately. My point is, he’s not in control, and I don’t want you getting hurt any more than you already have been. I need you to help me bring Connor home safely. He won’t leave on his own, but, if he stays, he’ll be in danger. At the very least, he’ll be arrested and imprisoned for what he did at the hospital. You have to save him. Can you do that for me?”
“. . . yes, ma’am.”
Ms. Smith smiled broadly. “Good girl. Do you know where the med kits are stored?”
“Yes.”
“Then this is what you do . . .”
Kaia hobbled into one of the safe house’s spare bedrooms to find Connor lying on the bed. He sat up and looked sheepishly down at her foot. “How is it?”
“It’s all right. The bandage you put on is helping.” She walked forward slowly, her hands clasped behind her back.
“What did the evil queen have to say?”
“She’s giving us a little more time, but we still have to leave soon. She says it’s not safe.” Kaia sat down on the bed.
He rolled his eyes. “Like she’s worried about us. You, maybe, but not me.”
Kaia slid a little closer. “I’m worried about you.”
Connor’s tone was bitter. “Worried you’ll get assigned to be my new partner, you mean.”
“No, I’m not worried about that at all.” She twisted slightly so she was facing him, then leaned in closer, tilting her head slightly to one side. His eyes opened wide, a look of surprise and disbelief, and a tiny smile tugged ever so slightly at the corner of his mouth. An instant later, and the smile melted into an expression of shock, betrayal, and sadness, all of which faded just as quickly as the sedative Kaia had injected into his arm took effect. “Why you little . . .” He didn’t sound angry, somehow. It was more like he was about to cry. Kaia caught him as he passed out and gently eased him backwards onto the bed. She stared at him for a good minute before going back to the computer. Somehow, she felt as numb as she had back in Dice’s hospital room.
Kaia dialed Ms. Smith’s number again. “I did it.”
“Well done, Ms. Davis. I’ve modified your cover story, given recent events. You are still listed as two students, but one of you has fallen very ill and is returning for advanced medical treatment in your home country of France. An ambulance will be there shortly to pick you up. The paramedics and driver will be friends. They will take you to the airport, where I’ve arranged for a private jet to bring you home.”
“What about Connor?” Despite her numbness, her mouth was still working somehow.
“He’ll be fine. The paramedics will strap him to a gurney, set him up on an IV drip, and roll him onto the plane. He’ll be out cold until you get home. Wouldn’t want him creating a disturbance in mid-air, would we?”
Kaia’s words came out barely above a whisper. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Pardon? The connection can be a bit bad sometimes, you’ll have to speak up, dear.”
“I said, that’s not what I meant. Do you think he’ll be all right?”
“I understood he wasn’t injured,” Ms. Smith said. “Was I mistaken?”
“No.” A tiny spark of anger forced its way through the deadness inside her. “I meant mentally. After—” she gestured around her, words being completely inadequate, “—all this.”
“Oh, I see what you mean. Of course, he will, dear. Children your age bounce. Sadly, Daisuke wasn’t the first operative we’ve lost, and I’m afraid he won’t be the last. It’s all a part of growing up—sometimes bad things happen and there isn’t anything we can do about it.” She glanced down, perhaps at a cell phone. “Anyways, I’ve received notice your ride is arriving, so I’d better leave you to it. I’ll see you back in Paris.”
The screen blanked out. Kaia didn’t move. She couldn’t. If she didn’t move, it wasn’t real. You can’t move in dreams sometimes, right? A bug landed on her arm, and she unconsciously flicked it away. That was real . . . Kaia could feel the tears welling up. “Dice . . . Connor . . .” The dam burst, and she slid out of her chair onto her knees, sobbing in great wracking waves as the truth of all that had happened, and of what she’d just done, flooded her mind and came crashing down onto her soul.
“Shut up! All of you, shut up! You don’t know a bloomin’ thing!”
“Really, Mr. Rhys. You need to calm down.”
“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down! You didn’t even try to bring Dice home, and now I can’t go back in and get him!”
“So you’re saying your little hospital stunt had nothing to do with those particular ‘entrance restrictions’ being placed against you?”
“This is not about what I’ve done wrong—it’s about you. I actually had my doubts before, did you know that? I knew you were no good, of course—it’s not exactly hard to see. But I wasn’t completely certain you were behind this particular evil until I woke up back here. Where are they?”
“How, pray tell, am I supposed to know what ‘they’ you are referring to, Mr. Rhys?”
“My mobile phone and the memory drive Dice gave me. They were in my pocket before Kaia there knocked me out. I wake up here—same clothes, no mobile or drive. Where. Are. They?”
“We took the memory drive to be analyzed. It was the point of your mission, after all. As for this phone you say you had, are you certain it didn’t get blown away during your little ‘power malfunction’?”
“Yeah, I’m certain, you lying harpy. You took them both—the only two things that could prove to everyone you were behind it all. I bet you somehow made the epi-whatever medicine Dice needed conveniently disappear, too. Wait . . . of course. I can be completely thick sometimes, you know? Don’t answer that, Alley Cat. They scanned Dice’s UNID card for his allergies and still gave him something wrong. But they were being insanely careful because they thought Dice was some V.I.P.—conclusion? His UNID card had the wrong information. And the only person besides Dice who had access to his ‘un-hackable, un-crackable’ UNID info . . . was you.”
“That’s your evidence, Mr. Rhys? Your big ‘proof’? Did it ever occur to you Mr. Yamamoto might have simply made a mistake? Or that he had an allergy he was unaware of?”
“No.”
“Such unshakeable faith. It’s almost admirable. Naïve, but admirable. I’m sure you’re aware of Mr. Yamamoto’s erratic sleep patterns, especially in the days surrounding a mission.”
“I . . . am.”
“Many times, despite my warnings, he would embark on missions after 24 hours without sleep. In some cases, as much as 48. Mr. Yamamoto was a genius, I’m not arguing that. But sleep deprivation can dull even the sharpest of wits.”
“I am thinking Ms. Smith is speaking right, Connor. Is possible Dice didn’t—”
“Shut up, Vlad. No, it isn’t possible. I’m done with this. I don’t care if none of you believe me. I’ll find a way to prove it. I will.”
* * *
Breakfast had been fairly quiet after Connor stormed out. Vladimir and Mikaël had left, too, but in a
less dramatic fashion. Gabriela had never come in the first place. Which left Kaia, Ezio, and Alizée, sitting silently around a table full of half-eaten dishes and trying not to make eye contact as they chewed.
When all was said and done, Kaia had been the last one to leave. After finally tiring of forcing herself to eat, she walked back to her room. “Walked” was being a bit generous, actually. It wasn’t the injury to her foot messing her up—the ladies in the infirmary had made her a really cool bandage/shoe to take care of that—it was more like her feet were moving without any direction from her brain. Instead of “walking,” it was “unintended sequential motion” which somehow brought her to her room. She hadn’t actually been in it since she’d returned. Between sleeping outside the infirmary waiting to make sure Connor was okay, visiting the infirmary herself to get her foot properly treated and her wrist checked, giving the final details of their mission to Ms. Smith, and diligently avoiding having an actual conversation with anyone, she just hadn’t had the time.
Her room looked different, somehow. It was an artifact from another life. Someone else had slept here before. Not her. Not the girl who’d watched one friend die before betraying the other. It had been another girl. A better girl.
Newly-cleaned clothes lay folded on the bed. She knew them, but they weren’t hers. They, like the room, belonged to someone else. Someone who had thought she had finally found some real friends. Maybe even a family. Her fingers traced lightly over the Japanese characters printed on the folded workout clothes. Dice had told her what they meant. What was it . . . ?
Bright Future.
She had to get out of this room, now, right now, it was crushing her, pushing her heart so hard it was going to stop beating. She had to talk to someone, vent this pressure, this pain, or it was going to kill her, break her, pound her flat. She knew who she wanted to talk to, more than anything. To say she was sorry. To share. To cry.