I inhaled a slow, shallow breath, feeling a sharp ache in my side as I did so. Looking around, I saw a woman sitting in the corner of the room, looking at some papers. I licked my lips, feeling inordinately dry again, and stared at her.
“Wa—” I tried to say, but my voice came out raw, practically silent. I tried to gather some saliva in my mouth, but there was practically none. Looking over at the woman, I coughed. She looked up, her blue eyes growing wide. “Water,” I breathed, and she immediately stood, moving over to the tray beside me.
I watched as she poured water out of a yellow pitcher into a cup, and then kept a steady eye on the cup as it traveled from the tray to my mouth. I greedily drank, trails of it sluicing from the corners of my mouth.
I panted when it was finished. The woman lowered her hand, her brows drawing together in an inquisitive stare. I nodded, watching as she poured me another cup and held it to my lips.
I flexed my hands while I drank, and realized I could move my arms, if I moved slowly. My arms and legs felt heavy and weak at the same time, a languidness that could only be explained by lack of use. I slowly reached up and claimed the cup from her, and she gave me an encouraging smile and a nod.
“I’m glad to see you’re recuperating so quickly, Mr. Croft,” she said cheerily.
I pulled the cup away from my lips, gauging the saliva ratio in my mouth. “Who are you? Where is Violet? What do you want?”
The woman smiled and stood up. “I’m Dr. Elizabeth Tierney. Violet is downstairs. As for what I want… well… if you could just keep drinking water, then that’d be a great start.”
I frowned as she poured more water into my cup. “Not who are you,” I said after a long sip. “I don’t care about your name. Who are you with? Am I a prisoner? I need to see Violet. Get her now.”
Dr. Tierney took a step back. “Okay. I’ll send a runner down to Desmond’s office to let them know you’re all right.”
I watched her as she crossed over to the door and opened it, speaking with someone on the other side in a hushed voice. I was suspicious by nature, and looked around for anything I could use as a weapon if need be.
I toyed with the idea of pretending to go back to sleep. That way, if someone other than Violet walked in, I would know without raising any alarms. Dr. Tierney had closed the door and returned to her chair, burying her head in files and avoiding my gaze. I watched her for several minutes, still toying with the idea of faking sleep, when a whirlwind of arms, legs, dark hair, and a delightful set of gray eyes burst into the room.
I felt my face break into a smile against my own volition. Violet gave a little cry and launched herself at me. I flinched, but she pulled back short and then slowly slid her hands over my shoulders. I could feel the heat of them through the thin cotton hospital gown they had given me.
“Vi—” I said, my voice cracking.
She smiled, her eyes brimming with tears. She leaned close, bringing her forehead to mine. “Saved your life,” she breathed across my face.
A smile bloomed on my lips at her quip, and I reached for her head, sliding my palm against her soft cheek. “I missed you,” I whispered, dismissing the trembling in my arms.
She gave me a small, sweet smile, one that made my heart ache, and pressed her lips to the palm of my hand. “I missed you too,” she croaked.
I pulled her head closer and claimed her lips in a kiss. I had no idea how long I had been in this hospital bed. I didn’t know if I or my breath stank, and I didn’t even know if they had shaved me.
Yet none of that mattered as soon as my lips pressed to hers. I felt her soft surrender as she leaned into me, and I kissed her like she was the air I needed to breathe.
She gave a low moan, and I slid my tongue between her lips, caressing hers with my own. If I had died right there, it would have been worth it. To feel her fingers sliding through my hair, as if she couldn’t believe I was finally back in her arms.
I groaned, wanting to feel her more fully against me, remembering the scent of her skin from when she had first kissed me, but as I tugged at her, she resisted.
Slowly, tenderly, she broke the kiss, pressing smaller kisses against my lips, my jaw, and my cheeks, before resting her forehead against my own again.
“What happened?” I asked.
Violet settled a hip on the bed beside me. “Well, how much do you remember?” she asked.
I licked my lips, which had become parched yet again. Violet noticed, and immediately filled the empty cup that Dr. Tierney had left on the tray next to the bed. I reached for it, my hands shaking.
I felt Violet’s eyes as they drifted to my hands. She gently used her free hand to push them away, and then leaned forward, pressing the rim of the cup to my lips. I frowned, irritated that I was as weak as a newborn kitten. I considered turning away from the cup, but I refrained because my need to drink was overpowering, and it wasn’t Violet’s fault I was so weak. She was just trying to help me.
I took several long pulls from the cup, nearly draining it, and then leaned back in the pillow, considering her question.
“I… was shot,” I said slowly, untangling my hazy and confused recollection of what happened in the lab with the twin princesses.
Violet nodded, setting the cup back on the table with a hollow click. She peeled back the right side of my hospital gown over my shoulder, and I stared at the puckered, half-healed pink scar sitting just next to my shoulder socket, under the collarbone. An inch to the left, and it would’ve nicked an artery. Two inches, and it would have torn through my lungs.
Still… the wound was doing remarkably well, considering how long…
My thoughts faltered as I realized I had no idea how long I had been unconscious. Judging by the wound, much longer than I thought. I gave Violet a probing look as she pulled the fabric back up, covering the scar.
“Twenty-one days,” she said, guessing the question that must be running through my mind.
I let out a slow breath, my mind trying to comprehend. “I… I don’t understand,” I whispered. Her face was sympathetic as she reached out to take my hand. “How could a gunshot…”
“It wasn’t the gunshot, you idiot,” she admonished, a small smile playing on her lips. “It was the mega dose of adrenaline. You… you caused a tear in your heart.”
“Several,” chimed in Dr. Tierney from behind us.
Violet pushed a lock of hair out of her face, and gave an exaggerated eye roll that only I could see. I knew she was trying to be funny, but it wasn’t funny. I stared up at her, and the humor bled from her expression. Her gaze drifted down to the blanket.
“Sorry,” she said.
I frowned and took a deep breath, trying to sort through the tremulous emotions I was experiencing. “What happened exactly?” I asked after a few seconds.
“They had to put you into a medical coma, to keep your heart rate low. It prevented the muscles from giving out or tearing more, and bought us some time to fetch a surgical instrument we needed to repair the tears.”
My hand drifted up to touch my chest, as if reassuring myself that my heart was still beating, just inches under the skin and muscles. Violet’s hand came up and settled gently over mine. I gripped a few of her fingers tightly, meeting her eyes.
“Who’s they?” I asked.
Violet bit her lower lip, and had opened her mouth to respond when three things happened at once—the lights flickered and then dimmed. A red pulsating light activated over the door, and a loud klaxon poured through a speaker located in the ceiling of the room.
“Attention, attention,” a robotic voice boomed. “Failure to input classified code within timeframe. Protocol three dash seven enacted. Personnel have ten minutes to comply.”
I blinked and barely had time to look at Violet in confusion as the door behind her swung open and a blond-haired man I didn’t recognize poked his head in.
“Violet, Desmond is on the radio—she needs you and me to report to her now.”
; Violet turned to the man. “Go, I’ll catch up.”
The man nodded back and then disappeared. The siren filled the silence between us as she swung back to me.
“Who was that?” I demanded. “What’s going on?”
“That was Owen. And I’m not sure what’s going on yet, but I’ll go find –”
I had already started moving, pulling the blanket off my body. My legs were stiff and ached as I swung them over to the side of the bed. I was shocked at how damn weak I felt. As I placed my feet on the floor, Dr. Tierney appeared next to me, a firm hand on my chest.
“Mr. Croft, no,” she said, taking a step closer to me as she noted my weakness, making it more difficult for me to stand up. I batted her hand to the side. Or rather, I attempted to—I was barely able to move her arm an inch.
“Mr. Croft,” she said primly, her lips a thin line. “I spent a rather tedious six hours sealing all of those holes in your heart. Six. So, I expect you to lie down and relax, not get up too soon and destroy my hard work within minutes.”
I looked at Violet, and she crossed her arms, radiating her own displeasure.
Sensing my inevitable defeat, I let out an irritated growl, swung my legs back in the bed, and flopped back on the pillows. Dr. Tierney gave me a nod and then moved back to her desk, mumbling something under her breath. I caught the word arrogant, and sighed, swiveling my head toward Violet.
Her face had softened slightly, and she had relaxed her shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Viggo,” she said, closing the gap between us. She pressed her thumb to the lines across my forehead, massaging them. I blew out and tried to relax. The alarm bells had stopped as I had been trying to get up.
Violet gazed at me earnestly, and I mustered a smile for her. “Go,” I muttered. “I’ll…uh, be here when you get back.”
She leaned down and kissed my lips. “Thank you. Don’t worry—I’ll be back soon and I promise I’ll fill you in on everything.”
I watched her back away, keeping her eyes on me, before she whirled around and hurried out of the door.
I heaved a sigh and looked at Dr. Tierney.
“So, how long do I have to rest?” I asked, dreading the answer.
18
Violet
I burst into Desmond’s office, my breathing coming in rasps. Desmond was on her handheld, talking to a blurry image. I heard a voice piping through it, but it took me a moment to register that it was Thomas.
“It’s bad, Des. It looks like the Matrians rigged the support beams on the bottom level with enough explosive to collapse all the levels. This is why they haven’t come—they haven’t needed to.”
Desmond’s frown intensified. “How were they able to activate it? You told me this place didn’t share a direct line with them.”
“They didn’t need to have a direct line—apparently there’s a code that needs to be input monthly. No code was ever entered, so it triggered the protocol.”
Cursing, Desmond lowered the handheld, her other hand clenched. She exhaled, then took a deep breath in, relaxing the tight muscles in her face. She slowly raised the handheld back up to her mouth and spoke with deliberate words.
“Tell me you have a way to stop this,” she said.
“Plug me into the network there.”
Desmond hurried over to the computer and I stepped over to where Owen was standing. His mouth was turned downward in a pensive frown.
“What’s going on?” I whispered. “I feel like I missed the first part of this. The place is rigged to blow?”
Owen bobbed his head up and down a few times. “We kept asking that same question you were asking in The Green that one night: Why hasn’t anyone come to do something with the base? Now we know why—they were just letting the clock on it run out.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“I’m reading the code here, and it’s bad,” Thomas said. “Once the window to input the code is missed, the computer stops receiving any messages from the mainframe. There are also messages set to be sent when the detonator activates, so that they know when it went off.”
Desmond placed both fists on the desk. “Thomas, I have over a thousand people here whom I cannot evacuate and a little over five minutes for you to find another solution. We are here—is there anything we can physically do to stop it?”
“I’m way ahead of you, Des—I pulled up the blueprints and schematics, and I have been isolating the electrical lines. There’s a way we can stop the explosion, while simultaneously letting the detonator go off, so the powers that be will think the building has been destroyed, but it’s tricky.”
“Tell us what to do, Thomas,” Owen said. “We’ll get it done.”
“You need to get to the main electrical station that’s under the lowest level. There’s a stairwell that leads down to it from—”
I was already moving. I snatched one of the radios from the desk and clicked it over to three as I headed toward the door. I held up three fingers as I went by, and watched as Owen grabbed another radio and followed.
I ran, knowing that there wasn’t enough time to walk. I remembered the room that Thomas was describing well, although I hadn’t known it was an electrical station then. But it was the only room that sat somewhere under the pit, so therefore, it was the only logical place to go. I trusted Desmond to get the details of what we needed to do, and Owen would help me to execute them.
I ran fast, only pausing long enough to open the doors. Owen quickly caught up with me, and together we entered the lowest level, our rapid footsteps clattering down the catwalk. I kept an eye on the numbers, and then took a left when I spotted the correct row.
Ahead of us, the catwalk extended to the wall where a gray door stood, barely lit by a yellow light.
I slowed as I reached the door and pulled it open. Owen darted past me down the stairwell, his boots clomping loudly. I clamored down after him. We likely had around two minutes left. We had to hope that Thomas’ instructions were simple.
We made it down to the lowest landing, and Owen didn’t hesitate. He threw open the door and rushed inside. Winded, we were both sweating profusely.
I held up the radio to my mouth and clicked the button. “Desmond, we’re here. What do we do?”
Her response was immediate. “Find the main console—lots of buttons and levers—go around to the back and pry it open.”
Owen scrambled behind the giant rectangular control box, and I heard the sound of metal bending and flexing. I staggered behind him and stared in horror at the multitude of hanging wires.
“Got it—but there are a lot of wires in here.”
“Ignore them, pull out the back panel. There should be three electrical cords running through it. You need to cut the middle one, at the same time that Owen disconnects the circuit… one-seventy-one through one-seventy-eight. It’s on the opposite wall.”
I looked at Owen who was already pulling the panel out, pushing the bundle of dangling wires to one side. I moved over to the opposite wall and opened the gunmetal gray cover, looking at the circuit breakers. My mouth moved as I sought out the numbers.
“Got it,” I called, my voice hoarse, but loud.
Owen grunted, and then shouted back, “Got mine. On one, okay?”
“Okay,” I replied, wiping my sweaty hands on my pants before lifting them to the row. I assumed all seven circuits needed to be flipped at once, so I shoved the radio between my knees, allowing me use of both hands.
“Three… two… ONE!” Owen shouted. I slammed the switches down at the same time I heard the pop of electricity, followed by Owen’s curse. I snatched the radio from between my legs and held it up to my mouth.
“We did it,” I radioed. “Desmond—are we good?”
There was a long pause, followed by Desmond’s voice, relief evident in it. “We’re good. Close, though—we were thirty-six seconds from detonation… Good job.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding and allowed myself to sag. I sat dow
n hard on the floor, my legs, which had been rock solid moments ago, turning into twin columns of pure jelly. Owen grunted and slid out from the panel, his hair sticking up slightly.
I stared at him and laughter involuntarily bubbled up out of my chest. Owen gaped at me as I laughed, and then broke out into similar laughter, his eyes twinkling in the shared unexpected joy of still being alive.
We stayed there like that for a while, until we felt confident that our legs would support our long climb back to Desmond’s office.
Half an hour later, Desmond’s firm grip was on my hand. “Thank you, Violet,” she breathed, pumping my hand an extra time.
I bit my tongue and returned her hand shake.
Since we had returned from Patrus, I had been trying to get some face to face time with Desmond to ask her why she had lied to me regarding Mr. Jenks’ pills that she had promised to destroy. I knew that Owen had given her the low down, and I had sent Desmond numerous requests to talk, but they’d all been denied.
Now that I was in her office with her, I wasn’t leaving until she answered my damn questions.
Desmond had relinquished her hold on my hand and turned to Owen to shake his. He smiled broadly as she pulled him in for a hug, whispering a thank you in his ear. Then Desmond leaned back against her desk, relaxing.
I watched her curiously as she picked up her handheld and held it up to her face. “Thomas, I’ve got Violet and Owen here,” she said after he came online.
“Good job, you two. That was close!” Thomas said, relief thick in his voice.
Owen replied for us. “Thanks Thomas, especially on the clear instructions. How did you know what to—”
“Electronics are my specialty—besides, they didn’t build it that well. I guess when they built it to explode, they never considered people might be inside who would want to stop it.”
The Gender Lie Page 11