by A. M. Pierre
Teeth grinned. “Got a little feistiness there, don’t you? Not that it matters what we call you, really. This will all be over before you know it.”
Kaia’s stomach flipped. No, calm down. He was talking about the mission. Nothing else. It’s going to be simple. Ms. Smith promised. In, out, go home. No big. It was poor word choice, that’s all. Nothing else.
Nothing else.
Kaia sat on a somewhat comfy chair in a sparsely furnished living room in another of The Company’s safe houses. She knew they had flown into England, but she honestly had no idea where she was. The airport where they had landed seemed fairly big, but a car had picked them up right at the door of their private jet, so she didn’t get a proper look at it. She guessed they had driven for about two hours to get to the safe house, but with no watch and no other clock she could see (the one in the car was broken), a guess was all she had.
Streaks came in from the kitchen, glass bottle in hand, and took a seat on a broken-down couch which sagged against one of the walls.
Her nervousness refused to fade. What if Connor was right? What if The Company planted that bomb? What if Dice wasn’t the only person they were after? What if the only reason they sent me here with these two guys was . . . ?
I can’t think like that. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open, but I’ll do my job. Lives depend on it. “So,” Kaia said, in a tone she hoped sounded nonchalant, “what exactly will I be doing? I know it involves a drug ring, but no one’s really given me the details.”
Streaks chuckled. “Oh, this one’s a really cushy gig. It’s a drug manufacturing plant, only a mile or two from here, but we don’t even have to go into the place.” Kaia could tell he was British, but his accent sounded nothing like Connor’s. “Some of our local boys already did the hard part. See, they planted a device in there to destroy the operation, but in a real surgical way, like. Equipment destroyed, but the building stays up, see?”
Kaia frowned. “So why didn’t the guys who planted it set it off themselves?”
Streaks clucked his tongue. “And risk hurting the people who work there during the day? I know they’re drug dealers, but we still don’t want to be going around killing people, now do we?” His words and his tone sounded completely different—fake somehow. “Scanners would have caught a radio signal, so it has to be set off manually. Unfortunately, security after hours is amped way up, with a fully tricked-out alarm system that would take us far too long to bypass. Which is why we have you. There’s a glass pin in the device keeping it from going off—we drive by, and you pull the pin. You won’t even have to get out of the car, so no worries about your foot or your wrist. Piece of cake.”
Streaks spread his arms out and rested them on the back of the couch. There was a slight glint . . . Kaia coughed to cover her shock.
A gun. He had a gun under his jacket in a shoulder holster. It’s fine. All Company agents probably wear those. He said he was supposed to be protecting me. Why can’t that be the truth?
“You look nervous, love.” Love. Kaia was surprised at how angry the simple word made her. Only Connor calls me that. “Don’t worry your pretty little head,” Streaks added, still grinning. “We’re gonna take care of everything.”
The sunlight was fading as they drove into the quiet neighborhood and stopped in front of an ordinary-looking house. “It’s here?” Kaia asked. “It seems too . . . nice.”
Streaks chuckled. “It’s actually around the corner a ways, but any closer, and we run the risk of being seen. We don’t want that now, do we?” He pulled out a small piece of richly colored blue glass in the shape of a doughnut with a peg coming out of its side. “This is an exact copy of the pin—we were told it would help you.”
Kaia closed her eyes and listened. The blue piece definitely had its own sound—mellow and brassy, like a French horn playing a solo. She listened for the same sound somewhere in the surrounding blocks. “Found it.” She cracked one eye open. “Are you sure everyone’s out?”
Streaks cackled. “Absolutely. Pull the pin and we’re done.”
Kaia stared at him for a moment, then closed her eyes again. Here goes nothing . . .
The explosion was louder than she had expected, but with a loud whoomph instead of a sharp cracking bang. It sounded so much different than when . . . Can’t think about that. Work now, cry later.
Streaks was still laughing. “Good job, girlie. Slick as a whistle. Now that you’ve done your part, what say we do ours?”
Kaia froze. She was stuck in this car between two huge guys who could physically overpower her in a heartbeat. The car’s windows were made of glass, sure, but the tone she heard from it sounded odd, almost warped. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she tried to use it. “What do you mean?”
“I mean it’s our job to take care of you on the way home. So many bad things can happen to a young girl out by herself, don’t you know?” Streaks raised his arm up. Kaia’s muscles tensed. His hand brushed the back of her neck. She slapped it away like she’d been stung and shoved him back as hard as she could in the confined space, then recoiled when she realized her back was now up against Teeth. “Whoa, girlie,” Streaks said. “I was just stretching. What’s got into you?”
Kaia’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two men, looking for the first indication they were about to make a move. “I . . . I don’t like being touched.”
Streaks and Teeth exchanged a smirking glance. “Whatever you say, love.”
The car turned down a side street lined with trees. Kaia’s eyes narrowed. This wasn’t the way they had come. A break showed in the trees, and beyond it . . . Kaia’s breath caught in her throat. It looked like a park, and in the middle of it was a lake. A seemingly deserted, surrounded-by-trees, no-one-to-see-them, lake. They could shoot her. They could drown her. They could shoot her then drown her. And the quiet little lake would make a perfect place to hide the evidence. They could tie some rocks to her feet to keep her from float—
Rocks. She had moved rocks before. Were there any rocks out there she could use? Any sand? She slowly slid her hand down and pressed the release button for her seatbelt. She might be able to climb over Teeth and open the door quickly enough that they couldn’t catch her. If only Teeth wasn’t so big . . .
“Sorry about the detour,” their driver said from the front seat. “The sat nav showed an accident had shut down our previous route, but it shouldn’t add too much time to our trip.”
A reasonable explanation, but what way was there to verify it? Kaia only had his word—the word of someone she’d never laid eyes on before today.
Streaks grinned. “No worries, mate, I’m sure Little Miss Personal Space here won’t mind a few more minutes in our company. Will you, love?”
I swear, if you call me that one more time . . . Kaia managed to shake her head. “It’s fine. I trust you.” As if.
The car turned onto a residential street lined with old brick houses, lights shining through drawn curtains. If I really had to, I could make a run for it. Pound on a door, maybe someone nice will come. We’re going slow enough now. I probably wouldn’t get hurt too bad if I jumped out. But how dumb would I look if it’s all in my head?
And if it’s not?
Streaks must’ve felt her muscles tense. Kaia saw him nod out of the corner of her eye, felt him press into her left side as Teeth did the same on the right. Streaks’ hand grabbed onto her arm, firmly, but not too firm—more like, firm with a bit of deniability. “Whoa, this is a rough road through here, girlie. These cobblestones will toss you right out of your seat without your seat belt on. I’m guessing you just forgot to put it back on after that excitement at the drug house, didn’t you?”
Kaia forced herself to stare him dead in the eyes, but there was nothing there to read. “I guess I did.”
“Here, I’ll help you.” He smirked. “Not that it really matters much. We’re almost there.”
>
Kaia felt the butterflies in her stomach coalesce into one solid, hard knot. “Almost where?”
“Where you’ll be safe.”
The car came to a halt. Kaia held Streaks’ gaze a moment longer, then shifted to look out the window. They were back at the safe house.
“Told you,” he said, with a smug look on his face.
Teeth slid out of the car first, and Kaia slid along the seat toward the same door. She was standing up out of the car when something bumped her from behind. She spun around, reflexively taking a swing at what had touched her. Streaks caught her fist easily. “Cool it, girlie, no need for that. I just didn’t want to get out on the side with all the traffic.”
It doesn’t look like there’s a lot of traffic to me. Kaia held his gaze but let her hand drop. Streaks grinned. “Follow my friend there. This isn’t the best neighborhood, so I’ll make sure no one grabs you from behind.”
Could you say that just a little bit creepier? Kaia took a deep breath. It’s over. We’re here. No need to worry. So why does every step feel like my last? She followed Teeth up the narrow stairway toward the entrance, while Streaks crowded in behind her.
Teeth paused at the door for a moment. A loooong moment. Adrenaline surged through Kaia’s body. Was this the plan all along? Get me out in the open, at night, exposed, completely defenseless, with all avenues of escape cut off by guard rails to the left and right and two mountainous men front and behind, while someone else, a sniper maybe, takes me out? Is that it?!
Metal clinked against metal, and Kaia jumped. Teeth held his hand up. A set of keys dangled from his thumb.
“Close one, mate. I thought you’d lost them there for a minute. We would’ve been stuck out here all alone in this nasty part of town—who knows what could’ve happened?” Kaia could hear the grin in Streaks’ voice.
It’s all right. We’re going inside. Inside the safe house . . . where I’ll be all alone with two men who might want to kill me. STOP IT! That doesn’t make sense. I’m just seeing things that aren’t there.
Am I?
The two men went into the kitchen, but Kaia chose to return to the living room and the chair she had been sitting in before. A few minutes passed before Streaks came back, carrying two glasses with him. “Want some Coke? I actually think you could use a real drink, but you’re a bit young for that, aren’t you?” He carefully set the glass from his left hand on the end table next to her. He flopped back down on the couch and raised his own glass up. “To a job well done.”
He didn’t bring me anything to drink the last time we were here. Why now? And a toast? It’s like he really wants me to take a drink—right now. Why? Did he drug it? Poison it? Or maybe he’s being nice and I’m freaking out over a Coke. “Thanks, but I don’t drink much soda.”
“We have other stuff in the kitchen. Juice? Milk?”
“I’m not thirsty.”
Streaks shrugged. “Suit yourself. We’ll be leaving for the airport after I tie up a few loose ends.” He set his drink down on the coffee table with a thud and reached under his jacket.
Kaia hurriedly took stock of the room they were in. No windows. Just the two drinking glasses. Maybe she could mentally smash one of them against the wall, then hold one of the shards against his throat like she had done on her first mission. Assuming she could do all that before he pulled the trigger, then what? She’d have to do something about Teeth, too, as well as the driver outside. How would she get back home? Plane tickets to Paris weren’t free. Besides, they wouldn’t let someone her age get on if she didn’t have any adults with her. First things first—she stretched out with her senses and got a good grip on his glass. Maybe if she distracted him by splashing the soda on him first . . .
His hand was coming out. No more time for considering possibilities. No more time to be afraid. His hand cleared the edge of his jacket. She could see the object in his hand. It was . . . It was . . .
He held his hand out to her. “Gum?”
The trip back was completely uneventful. They took the same two-hour road trip, with the same private jet waiting for them. By the time Kaia walked back through the door to Mark’s Place, she felt like a complete idiot. To get so worked up—seeing danger in every corner . . . I’m like a kid afraid of the dark.
Her stomach was rumbling. Everyone was probably in bed by now, but maybe she could sneak into the kitchen and make herself a snack. Surely they wouldn’t mind . . .
She heard voices coming from down the hall. It was the television, but it didn’t sound like one of Vladimir’s romantic comedies. It was in French—a newscast? She plodded into the rec room. Everyone but Connor was gathered around the TV. “Hey, guys, what’s going on?”
They didn’t even look at her. Alizée waved in a “quiet down” gesture. Not even a “welcome back”? That’s kinda rude . . .
Kaia froze. The words on the newscast had finally made their way into her travel-dulled skull. «Initial reports coming in . . . Explosion near Surrey, England . . . Awaiting final casualty reports . . . Cause unknown at this time.»
It’s a coincidence. It has to be. That wasn’t me.
«We have amateur video footage of the event from one man’s recording of a local football match.» The explosion echoed over the sounds of the game on the shaky phone footage. It was kind of odd for an explosion, though. More of a loud whoomph instead of a sharp cracking bang. Kaia’s heart sank.
She saw the fire burning. She saw the emergency vehicles surrounding it. And she saw the paramedics carrying someone into an ambulance. Someone small.
Kaia wasn’t hungry anymore. In fact, she felt like she was going to throw up. The camera cut to a sign on the side of the ruined building, and Kaia pressed her hands to her mouth to hold in the scream that was waiting there.
Her target hadn’t been some drug dealer’s factory.
It had been a school.
A primary school in South London, to be exact.
Connor didn’t notice what was on the TV when he first burst into the rec room. He didn’t notice much of anything, other than the fact that his ears had not deceived him. “Kaia!” He started to give in to his first impulse and run up to her but decided better of it midway and skidded to a stop about five feet away. He also held himself back from his second impulse, which was to grab her in his arms and swing her around the room. “Thank goodness you’re okay! I was so worried—I tried to track you online using some of Dice’s programs, but I’m not that good yet . . .” He finally registered the expression on her face. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”
* * *
Kaia heard Connor the second he came in. She started to give in to her first impulse and run up to him, but she couldn’t let herself do it. He sounded so happy to see her, but look at what she had done. What were they all going to think of her once they knew? What would he think of her? She didn’t think she could bear to see the scorn on his face. The disgust. She kept her eyes fixed on the TV. On her shame.
* * *
Connor followed her line of sight to the TV. It looked like there had been another terrorist attack. He sighed. It had been so long since the last one, he had secretly hoped the UNID system had done what it was supposed to. What Dice had designed it to. The newscast kept going . . . A school? The blighters actually hit a school? Connor felt ill. “What kind of sick lowlifes would do something like that? I wonder if they’re connected to the terrorist group you guys stopped last week.”
* * *
Kaia cringed as he spoke. She couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know. “No, it wasn’t them. It was . . .” She couldn’t get the last word out. She didn’t even have the courage to say that one little word. She tried to lift a hand up, to point at herself, but only made it half way. I’m such a coward.
His eyes widened. She wanted to turn, to run, to get as far away from all of this as possible.
&nbs
p; Don’t. Please. Don’t tell me I’m a terrible person. Don’t tell me what I already know. I’m not even worth the words. She closed her eyes. She couldn’t stand to see the expression she knew would be on his face. Such a coward.
* * *
Connor saw her gesture. He knew exactly what she meant, even though he didn’t know how that was remotely possible. He also knew that right now, at this moment, it didn’t matter in the slightest. He crossed the last few feet separating them and wrapped his arms around her, holding onto her as tightly as he could. She wound her arms around his waist in turn, holding on as if her life depended on it, nearly squeezing the breath out of him as she cried into his shoulder.
* * *
He knows. Connor knows. And he’s holding me anyway.
He bent over so his cheek rested against hers, and even as she cried Kaia felt better somehow. She didn’t know how they were going to get out of all this or if they even could, but right now, at this moment, it didn’t matter. Connor was with her. They could do anything.
Her crying must’ve been loud enough to get everyone’s attention, because they all started talking at once.
“Is Kaia being all right?” Vlad asked. “Was she having an accident on her mission—
“I am sorry I did not hear you come in,” Ezio said. “Is there something we can do—”
“Is she okay?” Gabriela asked. “I mean, that story’s sad, it’s definitely sad, but it doesn’t seem like she’s ‘I saw something sad on the news’ sad, it seems more like ‘I saw something sad on the news about someone I know’ sad. But that doesn’t make sense—”
They all stopped at once. Connor must have given them a look. Kaia didn’t open her eyes to see. She didn’t want to move. She was perfectly content to stand here as long as possible, especially now that Connor was rubbing her back. Of course, there was also the knowledge that the instant she let go, they would have to start dealing with this whole mess. From the sound of his voice, Connor knew it, too. “Guys,” he said, “we need to talk.”