Recon

by Tarah Benner

  “What would you like me to tell them, sir?” I ask, fitting as much contempt into the last syllable as I dare. I’m starting to sound like Harper, I realize, and the thought makes me want to smile.

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something that fits within the publicized duties of Recon operatives.”

  “I could tell them an air quality gauge exploded . . . and burned my arm.”

  Remy smiles humorlessly. “Do whatever works. Just make it convincing.”

  He stands to leave but turns back to me before reaching the door. “And, Lieutenant, it’s in your best interest to keep whatever you think happened under wraps. If anyone should start asking questions, I’ll be back to continue this conversation. But it won’t be as friendly, and it won’t end well for you.”

  “Understood, sir,” I growl.

  He leaves, and I can finally breathe again. He’s gone for less than five seconds before Sawyer flies in, looking harried.

  “I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “I couldn’t get in here to up your pain meds until he cleared you. They were worried you might regain consciousness and start talking before you were debriefed.”

  “It’s okay.”

  I watch her fumbling with the plastic box by the bed and notice how stressed out she seems.

  “You’re Harper’s friend . . . Sawyer, right?”

  Sawyer bobs her head. “She was here, you know.” A small smile works its way across her face. “She saw them bring you in. She tried to come see you, but they weren’t letting non-medical personnel in.”

  Something warm and wonderful spreads through my chest when I hear that Harper wanted to see me. “Where is she now?”

  Sawyer grins, and I see a spark of mischief that makes me understand why she and Harper are friends.

  “She’s hanging out in my compartment. I said I’d message her when you could have visitors. I didn’t think she should be walking around the compound alone right now . . . especially in the lower levels.”

  This remark, combined with Sawyer’s jumpiness, strikes me as odd. “Why?”

  “There’s been a riot. Recon operatives have gone AWOL, and people think they’re breaking off from the compound.”

  I stare at the ceiling, trying to process this information. I leave for one day, and everything goes to hell.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. One of your cadets got banged up pretty bad. Harper was here with him when she saw you.”

  I let out a frustrated groan and bang the back of my head on my flat, uncomfortable pillow. “If Harper came with him, that means she was probably involved, too.”

  Sawyer nods, and I can tell that nothing about Harper would surprise her. They must have been good friends before Bid Day.

  Sawyer leaves to message her, and I lie back to rest my eyes. I’m surprised how tired I am.

  I doze off for a minute, and when I wake up, I can feel someone sitting on the bed by my knees. I almost don’t want to open my eyes and have my hopes shattered, but I peel them open anyway.

  Harper materializes in front of me like a dream. Her uniform is wrinkled, her knuckles are cracked and bloody, and pieces of hair are falling out of her disheveled ponytail. She looks exhausted.

  In my foggy state, I smile before I can stop myself, and her face relaxes in relief. She smiles back, but it’s strained.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “I saw them bring you in. I had to see if you were all right.”

  Her voice sounds anxious and oddly distant. Even though she’s sitting right beside me, she’s almost leaning away. I push that thought aside. “I’m fine. Miles brought me back.”

  “Is he okay?”

  I sigh. “I think so. I haven’t seen him, though. They just finished debriefing me.”

  “Who?” Her sharp, panicked tone surprises me, and I wonder if I dare tell her. It will only throw fuel on the Harper conspiracy fire, but I decide not telling her just means she’ll find out herself.

  “Remy Chaplin, Undersecretary of Reconnaissance,” I say in a low voice.

  She nods as if she isn’t surprised at all. Then she glances around to make sure we aren’t being watched and scoots closer on the bed. I’m distracted by the feeling of her leg pressing against mine through the blanket, but I know she’s not even paying attention. “Eli . . . what happened out there?”

  “We were ambushed,” I say. “By about a dozen drifters with explosives. They were waiting for us.”

  Her eyes widen. She understands the significance of this. If gangs of drifters are mobilizing, it’s only a matter of time before they breach the cleared zone.

  “How long will you be in here?” she asks. Her voice is hollow again.

  I shrug. “Probably a week. It’s how long they usually give us to recoup before resuming our normal duties. They have to treat me for possible radiation poisoning, but I wasn’t even in an orange zone.”

  This seems to distress her more than anything, and I can tell that there’s something else going on besides the riots.

  “Don’t worry,” I say lightly. “I’ll still be able to kick your ass when I get back to training.”

  “That’s not what I was worried about. Anyway, I’m not sure you could. Seamus said my ground defense looks good, so . . .”

  “What?” I snap, taken aback.

  “He passed me on to the next level. I’ll get to spar with some of the privates who are out of training and —”

  “Harper, no.” I pull my hand down over my face and squeeze the bridge of my nose, completely failing to hide how worried I am. She has no clue what this means, and it’s my fault that it happened. I knew Seamus, the Recon kiss-ass, was taking over their training. I should have warned her.

  “What?” she asks finally. There’s anger burning low in her voice, and I can tell I’ve unleashed something bigger. “Shouldn’t you be happy for me? You’re the one who taught me everything.”

  “No,” I growl. “Harper, you should have passed that test last week, and you would have with any other instructor. Your ground defense was fine.”

  “So, what? You didn’t pass me even though I was good?”

  I glance out into the tunnel to make sure we don’t have an audience. “Yes, okay.”

  For a moment, Harper looks furious, then confused. “Why?”

  “As soon as you pass that test, you’re considered trained in the bare necessities of combat. You’ve had basic weapons training, instruction on Recon strategy, and hand-to-hand combat. As soon as you pass to the next level, Jayden can legally deploy you.”

  She looks stunned. “What? I haven’t even been here three months. I get a full year before —”

  “Not in times of crisis. If the board determines there is a real threat, they can deploy more Recon units. We’re stretched thin as it is after the last two recruit classes. They were also sent out ahead of their deploy date. You’re going to be next.”

  Harper’s face drains of color. For the first time since I’ve known her, she’s completely speechless.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I should have told you to mess up on purpose until I got back. Why do you think I’ve been keeping Jayden at arm’s length? She’s been sniffing around, but she was so preoccupied by how bad everyone else was that she ignored you.”

  Harper takes a shaky breath. “Jayden hasn’t been ignoring me.” She glances around quickly. “She called me to her office this morning. Eli . . . she’s part of Constance.”

  “What?”

  Harper rolls on, not pausing for breath. “She showed me the recording of us . . . in your room.” Her voice gets so quiet I have to lean in to hear. “Constance is watching me now, too.”

  I slam my head back, trying not to think about Jayden watching and re-watching me kissing Harper. That evening fills me with shame. I lost control. I took advantage of Harper’s plan and savored every second of it.

  But if Jayden is part of Constance, we’re in more danger than I thought.

&nbs
p; “Why have they been watching?” I ask. “They didn’t believe your alibi?”

  She shakes her head slowly, and I realize it has to be worse than that. “I started asking too many questions, and they tried to frame me for Taylor’s death to get me out of the way. And since you gave me an alibi, they think you know, too. Jayden knew you were walking into an ambush. They’re trying to get rid of you . . . and me.”

  None of what Harper is saying makes sense. My brain is working in fits and starts, trying to comprehend what she’s telling me. “Jayden is in Constance?”

  “Yes,” she breathes in exasperation.

  “Constance . . . wait, Constance was behind the bombing?”

  Harper swallows and nods.

  “They killed Taylor just to get rid of you?”

  Harper shakes her head. “She said he was feeling guilty about recruiting more Recon when the cadets kept dying. And he was against Constance subsidizing bids. They put the sixty thousand in Recon’s account so Jayden could make sure I ended up in Recon. Taylor was going to make a scene. He had to go.”

  I don’t believe it. My brain is running through everything that happened the night of the bombing. There were just too many variables for Harper to have been purposely placed in the line of fire.

  “How would Constance know you were going to break into Taylor’s office?”

  “Jayden said she knew I would eventually. She said something that day in training to provoke me. They were tracking my interface, and she tipped off Paxton Dellwood so I’d be caught.

  “But then you gave me an alibi, and Celdon said I didn’t do it. Constance can only operate outside the law if no one gets suspicious.”

  “Why would Jayden tell you all of this?”

  “She wanted to scare me . . . show me what happens to people who try to fight Constance.” Harper takes a short, distressed little breath. “She threatened to kill Celdon to keep me quiet.”

  All my muscles tighten under the blankets. I want to throttle Jayden for threatening Harper.

  When Harper’s eyes widen, I realize I’m wearing the face of a killer.

  “Say something,” she whispers.

  “I can’t believe Jayden’s been playing me all these years,” I say finally.

  Then her gray eyes turn stormy — not the reaction I expected. “Yeah, I know the feeling,” she says sharply.

  After everything she just told me, I can’t believe she’s angry that I purposely held her back in training.

  “Harper —”

  “Jayden told me everything, Eli,” she snaps. “You lied to me.”

  My stomach clenches, and she scoffs at my expression.

  “Don’t act like you don’t know.” Harper looks up at the ceiling. “She told me you were the one who pursued me for Recon.”

  I close my eyes, and I hear Harper drag in a shaky breath, as though my reaction confirmed everything she hoped wasn’t true.

  “Harper, I didn’t know you,” I say slowly. “If I had —”

  “What? You wouldn’t have recruited me?”

  When I open my eyes, I’m startled to see that hers are glistening with tears. I’ve never seen Harper cry — not even in training. Part of me thought I’d never see it. It’s like catching a comet that only comes around once in a lifetime.

  I unstick my throat with some effort, wondering how much I dare say to her.

  My thoughts are loud. No, I wouldn’t have. I would never choose this life for you, and I hate myself for it.

  But I know telling her those things won’t make deployment any easier. And now that Jayden has Harper in her crosshairs, part of me thinks it would be better if she had someone to hate — some angry inertia to keep her going.

  But my mouth is moving of its own accord, completely abandoning my brain.

  “Harper, if I knew you the way I do now, I would have never pursued you for Recon.” I take a deep breath. “Not that it would have done any good.”

  She nods and tries to pull herself together. “I know. I probably would have ended up here anyway.”

  By her tone, I can tell that rationalizing it doesn’t make what I did any less despicable. I nod slowly, unsure if agreeing with her will make things better or worse. “If Constance wanted you in Recon, there would have been no fighting it. I don’t know what they’re up to, but clearly you are part of their plan.”

  She draws in another breath, and I can tell that whatever she’s going to say next is costing her everything. “I just wish you wouldn’t have lied to me . . . I trusted you.”

  Those last three words are like a knife in my chest.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. My apology feels so inadequate. She’ll probably never trust me again.

  But then she surprises me. “I’m sorry, too,” she sighs. “It’s my fault she deployed you early. She was hoping you’d be killed.”

  “It’s not your fault. Jayden decided to punish me the second I lied to her.”

  We both fall silent, and I wonder how much damage has been done. She did come to visit me, but that doesn’t mean she cares about me. Maybe she just feels guilty. There’s a lot of that going around.

  “Hey,” I whisper. “Whatever happens next, promise me you’ll be careful.”

  She lets out a watery laugh. “You mean don’t go snooping around sealed Bid Day records? I think that ship has sailed.”

  “No. You’re smarter than they are. You’ll be all right.”

  She nods, but the distant look in her eyes tells me she doesn’t believe it. Hell, I don’t even believe it. What a mess we’ve made.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “For everything.”

  She nods, and I’m actually taken aback by how calm she seems.

  “I swear . . . that’s the only lie I ever told you. You can trust me.”

  Harper purses her lips together. “I’m not really sure I trust anyone anymore. But I’m okay.” Her eyes focus on mine, and they’re dead serious. “They aren’t going to get me.”

  That knocks me on my ass. Suddenly I understand the real reason I was so drawn to Harper before I even knew her: She reminds me of me, but she’s all the things I wish I could be.

  She’s brave and honest. She doesn’t take any shit from people. She doesn’t just accept the system. Hell, Harper thinks she can do anything.

  I like her a lot, but I can’t think about that right now. There’s a gun pointed at both our heads. Constance is going to do everything to make sure we die when we step out into the Fringe.

  Once Harper leaves, exhaustion sets in. Whatever pain medication they gave me seems to be doing the trick, and I let myself relax until the burning in my arm ebbs away.

  My last thought is part nightmare. I’m standing out on the Fringe. The oppressive heat hangs over me like a wool blanket. The miles of nothing press in from every direction, sucking the energy right out of me.

  Then the heat haze clears, and I see a dozen drifters looming in the distance. There’s an explosion too close, and the wave of heat knocks me backward.

  I wait for the searing pain, but when I open my eyes, I’m all in one piece — conscious, alert, and unharmed.

  Where Miles should be lying, I see a fan of dark hair spreading over the cracked earth like spilled oil. Instead of me, Harper has caught the brunt of the explosion. She’s lying in the dirt, cradling her arm to her chest. She’s crying in agony, her arm and stomach covered in angry red burns.

  Then the suffocating wave of panic hits me. Harper is going to die.

  twenty-eight

  Harper

  The next few days of training are a complete blur. I was right in thinking that Seamus would be pissed when we returned. He was mad that we ditched the rest of the day’s training, but he was even angrier that we’d all been involved in the riot.

  I really don’t care. Seamus knew what he was doing when he passed me on to the next level. He could have held out like Eli, but he doesn’t care enough to fight the system. It gives me a whole new appreciation for Eli’s hardba
ll training tactics.

  Seamus’s nice-guy persona is permanently tarnished after the riots. The tides shifting against Recon in the compound have made him short-tempered and irritable, and I realize his encouragement and smiles only hold out when everything is fine.

  When things go to shit, he gets a temper, whereas Eli seems to thrive on things going to shit. If anything, he was calmer in the medical ward with third-degree burns on his arm and chest, knowing that the drifters were encroaching on the compound and that Constance was trying to have him killed.

  To escape Seamus, I ask him if I can spend more time in the shooting range. He doesn’t put up a fight.

  I don’t want to admit it, but I’m counting down the days until Eli returns to normal duty. I’d planned to have it out with him when he woke up, but seeing him in that hospital bed made it impossible to keep my emotions in check. When he returns at full strength, I’m going to confront him about his lie.

  Plus, angry or not, I know I would feel more at ease with him around. Ever since my talk with Jayden, I’ve barely slept. When I do, I have nightmares about Eli being sent out into the Fringe or Constance ambushing me in the lower tunnels. Then they shove me into a cage and let me starve.

  After six days, my anxiety has reached its peak. I want to go work off my aggression in the training center, but my shoulder is sore after spending the entire day on the simulation course. I overdid it trying to hit every target, and I know I’ll have a rifle-shaped bruise on my shoulder from the kickback.

  Around twenty-one hundred, there’s an urgent knock at my door. My body tenses automatically.

  I jump to my feet, heart pounding. For once, I’m not thinking about Constance. Eli should have been discharged today, and it might be him coming to visit.

  I peer through the peephole, and my heart sinks. It’s Celdon.

  Yanking the door open, my jaw drops as I meet his gaze.

  Celdon doesn’t look like Celdon.

  He’s pale and sweaty with a huge purple shiner on his left eye, and his hair is matted on one side. His white jacket is dirty and disheveled, as though it hasn’t been cleaned in days. He’s hunched to one side, clutching his ribs, but it’s his shell-shocked expression that makes my blood run cold.